Body Politics (12 page)

“I said, I hope I didn’t cause trouble for you with the board.” Bethany was back on work again.

“It’s fine. A few members questioned the delay, but they’re the ones who raise issue with nearly everything.” Stephanie downplayed the board’s response. She had received flak, notably from the board president. She’d been able to expand WAN’s services beyond her wildest dreams, but sometimes she wondered if she’d bargained with the devil.

“It seems like it would be simpler without them sometimes,” Bethany mused.

“It would be simpler without them all the time,” Stephanie agreed. “A few of the members are involved with WAN for the wrong reasons.”

“Self-aggrandizement.”

“It seems that way.” It
was
that way. “But because those people seek power, that power can be used to our advantage. WAN would never receive the type of grants it does without the board and official nonprofit status.”

“Well, you nurse their egos better than I would,” Bethany said.

“Ego nursing is in my job description.” Stephanie chuckled. “Hey, listen, I’d better run.”

“Okay. See you Monday.”

“Have
fun
this weekend.”

“You too,” Bethany answered.

Stephanie hung up, checked her watch, and flinched. Yikes. She hoped Mark wasn’t
too
annoyed.

* * * *

Stephanie breezed out of his bathroom, and despite his irritation, her knockout sexiness claimed his complete attention. He liked the way she wore menswear to her advantage, but the dress? Holy fuck. Sewn from some slinky black fabric, it hugged her top curves and kissed her bottom ones, inviting him to do the same. A tight bodice defined her breasts and hinted at cleavage, then flared out to a full skirt that swirled around her long legs.

Her gaze was riveted on his face, so she didn’t notice the items on the bed beside the jacket he’d removed.

He scanned her body, and omnipresent desire unfurled. “You look hot,” he said. “Gorgeous. Worth waiting for.”

She beamed.

“But that doesn’t mean you
should
keep me waiting or that I’ll
allow
you to keep me waiting.”

“I’m sorry. Bethany called about WAN and”—she lifted her shoulders—“time got away from me.”

The casual, unconcerned shrug eliminated all residual doubts about his intentions. “I know you have business to take care of, but I’m pretty sure you could have wrapped it up quicker, and the last I heard, you were talking about dulcimers and movies.”

She opened her mouth as if to disagree, then snapped it shut.

“We don’t have time for me to discipline you the way you deserve, but when we come home this evening, I’m going to spank you.”

Stephanie’s shoulders slumped, revealing her confidence had been bravado. She’d known she was wrong and had expected consequences. Mark figured she probably hoped to use the evening to wheedle out of punishment altogether.
Won’t work, kitten
. He picked up the heavy stainless steel anal plug he’d set next to his jacket.

Her eyes rounded to a diameter nearly as large as the plug. “And what do you think you’re going to do with that?”

“I’m going to insert it in your ass, and you’re going to wear it all evening as a reminder to show respect.”

She stepped backward and shook her head. “I’m not going to agree to that.”

“Then I’ll spank you twice. Late or not, I’ll paddle you right now for refusing to obey and again this evening for disregarding the time. Trust me, Stephanie, a paddling on a freshly spanked ass hurts a lot more than the first one.”

She folded her arms. “You have no right.”

“You gave me the right. I was honest with you that our relationship would be a domestic discipline one.”

“You also told me nobody—not even you—could take away my right to say no.”

He set the plug on the bed and approached her. “Is that what you’re saying? Are you crying ‘ostrich’ without even trying it? Your trust is conditional?”

“It’s not about trust.” A pleading light shone in her eyes. “What if I don’t like it?”

“You
won’t
like it. I specifically chose a medium-size plug for discipline purposes. Because you’ve never been penetrated anally, the insertion will be a little painful. But after it’s in, it won’t hurt, although you will be uncomfortable.”

“Gee, you sure know how to sell it.” She turned to the side and rubbed her arms, then shot a glance at him. “It’s not fair!”

He refused to argue. It
was
equitable. What was unfair was she’d made them both late.

“What if it gets lost in there and I have to go to the emergency room? Or it falls out on the floor and everybody sees? I’d die of humiliation.”

“It’s designed to fit securely. The flange—the wide base—keeps it in place. The weight and bulb shape keep it from falling out.” He omitted to mention it was a Rod and Cane–recommended personal discipline product. Didn’t think she cared to know.

She gulped. “All right.”

He grasped her arm and led her to the bed. He placed a pillow on the top step of the platform. “Kneel on this, and bend over. Remove your underwear first.”

With her eyes she shot another plea, but she wiggled out of a lacy black thong. She sank onto the pillow and rested her torso on the mattress. He lifted the skirt of her dress, then opened the tube of lube and squirted a dollop on his finger. “Spread your cheeks,” he ordered in a quiet voice. It was important she participate in her discipline to emphasize it was consensual.

“Mark…”

He waited.

She separated her rounded globes to reveal the tight, puckered ring. “This is so embarrassing.”

Within him desire kindled, stirred by her trust, the awareness that where her body went, her heart would follow. With his finger he worked the thick gel into her snug passage, tightened by tension, then smeared the lubricant on the metal plug.

“If you bear down as I insert it, it will go easier. Relax as much as you can. It will feel cold at first.”

She jerked when the metal met her entrance. He applied gentle but increasing pressure, overcoming resistance with insistence, until her muscles surrendered and accepted an inch of penetration. She released her cheeks and grabbed for the bedclothes. He paused to permit her body to adjust to the intrusion, then pushed the plug in deeper. When the widest part stretched her sphincter, she mewled and twisted the bedspread in her fists. He seated it, and her sphincter closed around the thin neck, leaving only the flange visible.

“Don’t move.” He strode into the bathroom, washed, and returned to the bedroom to wipe the excess lube from her skin. He lowered her skirt, assisted her to her feet, then helped her on with the scrap of nothing that served as underwear.

Consternation and confusion rioted across her face. He hugged her and kissed her ear. “I know all this is new to you, and I recognize the courage it requires for you to submit. Even when I must discipline you, your surrender pleases me.”

Chapter Ten

Gingerly Stephanie leaned over to examine a tall vase thrown and fired by the artist. “That’s beautiful,” she said, feeling as fragile as the ceramic urn. If she moved too quickly, she’d shatter into hundreds of pieces.

“Do you want it?” Mark asked. “Bid on it.”

“I think I will. We’re number one…?”

“One hundred seventy-five.” He held up the bid paddle he’d tucked under his arm.

As the silent auctions used bid sheets instead of callers, paddles weren’t necessary, but bidders received the functional implements in appreciation of their support. The vase already had several bids, and she upped it by fifty dollars and scribbled their number.

As Mark had feared, they’d arrived late, and several of the earlier auctions had already ended. Fortunately Liz and Otis had reserved seats for them at their table, although they had yet to see them. The crowd was thick; one could hardly get close to some of the items. The din of multiple ongoing conversations filled the room.

Keeping her spine straight, she eased one foot in front of the other to the next item. Mark cupped her elbow. Since they’d arrived, he’d maintained contact in a myriad of small ways: a light touch against her back, a brush against her shoulder, an arm around her waist. Senses on high alert, she registered each one acutely.

He guided her close. “How are you doing?” His low voice was both solicitous and commanding, and she couldn’t pretend to misunderstand. Her body tightened around the invasive metal.

Politely she smiled to a couple who squeezed by them. “Good evening.” She nodded. To Mark she said, “I’m doing…fine.”

If one defined fine as totally unsettled. The plug shouted its presence with every step, every turn, every twist. She found herself contracting and releasing, as if practicing anal toning exercises. She wanted to expel the unyielding object, and yet she clutched it like a secret treasure.

Her acceptance disconcerted her far more than the foreign invasion. The moment he’d inserted the plug, she had relaxed. Not her muscles—those had remained fully tense, contributing to the pain of penetration—but her core essence had lowered its shields, thrown down its weapons, and surrendered.

As naturally as she breathed, she’d submitted. As she’d lain on the bed, her ass and sex exposed, allowing him to impose his will, instead of humiliation or outrage, she’d felt connected, bonded, as if she belonged to him. In a world where uncertainty ruled, she found security in Mark’s possession. He would protect her. It was a curiously heady feeling. She hadn’t realized how much she’d carried her philosophical beliefs and dogma into her personal life until now. Mark had shown her that, and to some degree, so had Bethany. All work and very little play. How burdensome it had been to continually feel she had to prove how tough she was. What a relief to let it all go and relax into Mark’s control. For the first time that she could remember, she was free to just
be
. If that wasn’t liberation, she didn’t know what was.

She hadn’t needed to spend so much time on the phone with Bethany. But she was used to talking shop with her and hadn’t paid attention to the time. Mark’s irritation had been justified. But punishment?

Surprisingly that seemed justified too.

The object had no give, its weight and rigidity a continual reminder of his domination, her submission, of what they might have together. Her body hummed with awareness of the new paradigm, every nerve aroused with longing to surrender further.

I’m falling in love with him
. No, not falling. Had fallen.

She glanced at him, and the desire and tenderness in his dark eyes had her heart and ass contracting in sync.
Please be more than lust
. She tore her gaze away and scanned the perimeter of the room, where the auction items were on display.

A poster of little girls wearing tiaras and cotton-candy dresses caught her gaze. “Aw, how sweet.” She touched Mark’s arm and couldn’t help but curl her fingers around his bicep. “It’s a princess party.” As a child she had enjoyed playing dress-up before she’d gotten her growth spurt and everyone had assumed she was much older than she was.

“Do you want children?”

A vision of a small replica of Mark charged through an imaginary house littered with dirty sneakers and boy toys. A home filled with laughter, the blaring of TV ball games, and the frenzied barking of a shaggy dog that drooled all over the floor. She thought about baking cupcakes, driving carpool to soccer games, and picking Spider-Man jockey shorts off the floor. She wanted it all, but she and Mark hadn’t talked future yet. They’d known each other only a month. “Yes,” she said. “How about you?”

He nodded. “Yes.” He eyed the pink display. “I see giggling little girls having tea parties in their playhouse. Little girls with bright red pigtails and frilly pink dresses.”

Red pigtails
. She resisted the urge to touch her hair. “Girls?” she asked nonchalantly. “How many are you talking?”

He shrugged. “Four maybe.”

“
Four
?”

“It’s negotiable.”

“I would hope so. I was thinking two. Maybe a boy and girl.” She imagined carrying his baby, and Mark rubbing her feet, running to the store in the middle of the night to satisfy her food cravings, attending her birthing classes and doctor’s appointments, then rising with her to care for the baby, changing diapers, bouncing their
son
on his knee. He would be a very involved parent. A loving dad. A strict father. One who spanked his children when they misbehaved.

And his wife. She clenched around the plug, so solid, so insistent. Like the man who’d put it there. Could she cope with a domestic discipline marriage and all it would entail? She was still a feminist. She still believed women deserved to have a choice and not have one imposed upon them. But Mark hadn’t imposed anything she hadn’t agreed to. If domestic discipline gave her the sense of security and protection she felt tonight, she’d run toward it with open arms. But wasn’t she getting ahead of herself? It was too soon to think about a marriage and babies. Wasn’t it?

Red pigtails.

Her heart hammered, and she veered away from the topic altogether. “A lot of vacations are up for auction.” She gestured to colorful posters presenting weekend getaways, ski trips, short cruises, and a trip to Hawaii. “Here’s one for a weekend at a bed-and-breakfast in Carmel.” The beachside community in Northern California had some of the most beautiful coastline in the state. “Enjoy a romantic getaway for two in this quaint B&B located on one of the most stunning beaches in all of Carmel. Your four-day, three-night stay will include breakfast every morning, a fabulous dinner at a different local restaurant every night, and a relaxing couple’s massage,” she read off the item description. “The day we drove up the coast was wonderful,” she said.

“It was.” His gaze sizzled with heat.

Her pussy signaled with a pulse that it remembered too. She’d been so sore afterward, but it had been worth it.

“Would you like to do something like this?” Mark motioned toward the poster.

“I’d love to, but the bidding is already up to $1,500.”

He jotted down their number and a bid on the sheet.