Her eyes lit up with understanding. Her jaw worked, as if she tried to form words but couldn’t. At last, she spoke. “By punishing you, I proved that I cared about you.”
Well. The sex afterward was nice. “Yeah.”
“So, by not spanking you myself, you thought I rejected you?”
The words sounded even more ridiculous than I’d thought they would. Here I sat, flown in first-class seats to a vacation destination, all expenses paid. I had everything I wanted, but it wasn’t enough. No wonder Gemma called me an ungrateful brat. “It sounds stupid.”
“No.” Raven smiled. “You’re mine. Not Gemma’s.”
You’re mine. I wished she would say it every day. Multiple times a day. My throbbing bottom regretted my next words, but I said them. “You spank me, not her.”
Raven nodded. “I do. But ask yourself this. If I had spanked you tonight and not Gemma, would you have responded in the same way? Would you have actually understood where you went wrong, or would I have gotten the same tantrums and resistance?”
At that, I fell silent. She continued.
“You’re embarrassed. You’re upset, ashamed, and vulnerable. We could have gone back and forth for a few more months, making a few inches of progress before you snapped back into self-defenses. Or I could step aside and let someone who knew you take the short cut.”
I wanted to argue, but honesty wouldn’t let me. “But I wanted you,” I said at last.
“You’ve got me.” Raven held out her hand. I stared at it without moving. “And be careful what you wish for, because you’re getting that spanking you wanted from me.”
No! I hurt too much already! But I took her hand and followed her to the couch. She positioned me over her knees and tugged down the thin yoga pants I’d worn for Gemma’s spanking.
“You.”
Raven didn’t smack hard, but Gemma’s earlier attentions made that unnecessary. I gasped. “Ow!”
“Are.” Smack. “Mine.”
“Ow! Okay!” I sniffled, fighting to hold still. “I believe you!”
Swat! “For the next five minutes. Then you’ll start doubting, and we’ll have to go through this all over again. I don’t know how to prove myself to you, but we’ll figure it out.”
Unlike Gemma, who inflicted emotional and physical pain as efficiently as possible, Raven paused to stroke my aching bottom.
“Okay.”
She patted a cheek. “Gemma’s still going to spank you each day.”
“What? No!” I bolted upright, but Raven waited calmly and patted her lap. “But you said…”
“That you are mine. And you will do as I say.” Raven slid an arm around my waist. “We’re here. I’d trust her with your life, or mine if necessary. Do you want your only memories of this trip to be me spanking you twice a day? Or would you like Gemma to do it half the time, so I can cuddle you afterward?”
Well. “Depends on what you mean by cuddle.” I gave a tiny laugh, and she reciprocated.
“Naughty.” Raven landed a crisp swat, but this time I gave a moan of pleasure instead of pain. “Are you trying to get out of punishment with sex?”
“Yes, please!” I answered without thinking, and Raven gave a snort before disguising it with a cough.
She gave a light slap this time. “So, you’re using me. Trying to get yourself spanked so you can have mind-blowing sex afterward.”
I hid a grin. “I’m not sure it was that good. You could use a few pointers.”
A solid swat connected with the undercurve of my right cheek, and I yelped. “And you wonder why Gemma will stop by each morning to paddle your sassy derrière.”
“I’m yours.” It was the first time to say it out loud.
“Yes.” Slap! “And if you didn’t approve of my technique last time, Dr. Ruth, you won’t want my arm like spaghetti after thrashing you.” The gentle spank belied her words.
“Moist?”
“You’ll pay for that,” Raven murmured, and my heart sang.
“Better call Gemma.”
“Why?”
I grinned, wincing in anticipation of her retaliatory blow. “You probably need her help for that, too.”
Raven obliged, I yelped, and I wriggled with enthusiasm. “Take a demerit for making me laugh while punishing you.”
“Shall I report that to Gemma, too? Ow!”
“Brat.” Raven spread my legs and spanked the insides of my thighs. “Yes, you may. What an excellent idea, my dear.”
I rocked back and forth across her lap, trying to gyrate myself into some relief. “Yeowch!” The swats came maddeningly close but not close enough. “Cuddling sounds good now, don’t you think?”
Raven laughed. “Such an indecisive miss. Spank me. Stop spanking me. Cuddle. Don’t cuddle.”
I groaned, grinding in a lewd manner. “Please! Whatever you want!”
Raven stopped and squeezed my hand. She dropped a kiss onto the back of my neck. “I want your trust and happiness.”
For the first time since we began this odd role of business mixed with pleasure, I believed her.
Chapter Eighteen
Dear Gemma,
Thank you for your endless generosity last night. The chili is amazing! I understand why your church friends insist on you cooking it for each gathering. If I give you a thank you note for your friend Milly, would you be willing to deliver it for me?
Everything in the house is perfect. Alena and I slept as snug as bugs in the proverbial rug, and she’s woken up a changed woman. She’s got a spring in her step and a lilt to her voice, as if the weight of the world has been lifted from her. She adores you, and there is no one else I could have trusted. My friend Midnight offered to step in if necessary, but Alena doesn’t know her yet and would have been afraid. How lucky Alena is to have a friend like you. Celine is one fortunate girl!
She and I had a lovely conversation last night about your courtship, although I’m afraid she was rather anxious about you disciplining Alena. I fear she may need some reassurance from you as she seems to be struggling with a little jealousy. I must apologize for taking up so much of your time, and I hope Celine will understand.
I hope that, someday, you and Celine will allow us the honor of hosting you up north. Perhaps in August when the heat down here is oppressive?
I can’t thank you enough for your warmth, wisdom, and generosity.
Sincerely,
Raven
My dear, sweet girl,
I am so proud of you. Words cannot express my surprise and delight at your change in attitude. I knew you had it in you. I knew you could do it.
Yes, you will continue your daily sessions with Gemma. You may feel that they’re no longer necessary, but trust me. The stubbornness won’t go away as quickly as you think it will. Would you really want to return to your old ways? You needed someone you could trust, who understood you, and wasn’t afraid to be as severe as you required.
Think of these sessions afterward as the remaining portion of your antibiotic. You may feel better, but discontinuing too soon will only half-cure the false pride and self-doubt that’s plagued you all along. Take your medicine, or we’ll both regret it later.
Think of the good side, my dear. With Gemma to administer discipline, your time with me has become much more pleasant.
If you are a good girl, the wonderful and sweet girl I know you can be, perhaps we will visit a certain big-eared mouse this weekend. Wouldn’t you love to see how a mistress rewards good behavior?
As for today, pay attention to your notifications and follow them to the letter. I’d hate to have to punish you on top of your nightly maintenance. Two spankings a day should be enough for anyone, don’t you think?
Today’s lesson will be finding pleasure in obedience. Every time you obey without arguing or sassing, I’ll find a new way to give you pleasure.
“Moist,” indeed!
For this morning’s assignment after Gemma’s spanking, I expect you to reflect on last nigh
t’s events. Take time to process everything, and let me know how you’re doing.
We’re not out of the woods yet, sweetie, but we’ll get there. Trust me.
Trust yourself.
We can do this together.
Love,
The woman who spanks you and sends you to bed
Chapter Nineteen
Dear Raven,
It’s early in the morning, and you’re not awake yet. You didn’t tell me to write in the diary, but there’s too much jumbled inside of me. If I were at home, I’d curl up in my recliner and leaf through a good book or two. Or go online and find new auctions for Margaret Bloom. I’m still surprised you haven’t heard of her.
Gemma said you can’t listen to what I don’t say. You said you want honesty. I’m still confused.
Don’t get me wrong. Last night was great, or at least last night after all the fuss. But I have the nagging feeling that everything got swept aside for a romantic moment or two. What’s changed? Where do we go from here?
I’ve asked all along how you feel about me and vice versa. We’re good together, but what does “together” mean? What does “we” mean? In some ways, I think we’re moving too fast. I haven’t had these sorts of conversations with any of my past girlfriends. In others, everything seems far too slow.
I think that, all along, you’ve been waiting for me to take action or say something. I’m not sure what. Do you want my permission for something? Or are you watching to see when I’m ready? On the one hand, we have an arrangement where you can do whatever you want and I’m not allowed to say no. On the other hand, it’s almost as if you’re afraid of me.
I think that’s it. Why would you call in Gemma, even as my friend, if you weren’t afraid? What did I do that was so wrong? I’m not saying I loved it when you went off the deep end about bedtime, but you dealt with it and things were over. It’s like you’re holding back all the time, and I don’t get it.
You spend so much money on a trip for us. I must mean something to you.
At the same time, the second we arrived someone else stepped in.
If I’m yours, I want to be yours.
Good or bad.
Is that what you want? Or are you waiting to see whether I’m too much trouble, and you’ll want to find someone who’s easier to deal with? Is that what the tracking app is for? You’re going to see if you can trust me?
Alena
P.S. I don’t mean to insult you, but we’re a bit old for the mouse…don’t you think?
P.P.S. I’ve sent in an application for a writer-in-residence grant. How do you feel about visiting New Hampshire?
Chapter Twenty
Dear sweet girl of mine,
You asked, a long time ago, why you couldn’t have a safeword. It’s standard practice in D/s circles (although not necessarily for domestic discipline, which is closer to our dynamic), and the stipulation raised a warning flag for you.
Deservedly so.
When you are with me, you are my responsibility. Your life is in my hands. I can’t do submission by half measures. Either you are mine, or you’re not.
Does that sound like a contradiction when you’re still upset (if I read you correctly) about Gemma’s role in this? Gemma played an ancillary role and always will. She is your friend and an amazing woman, but in two weeks we will go home and our relationship will be strengthened. You and I, my dear. Not Gemma. I will always be grateful for the assistance she gave and the trust she earned, but she is not your domme and never will be.
Right or wrong, I thought we needed outside help. Intervention. It may be that my actions caused as many difficulties as benefits, but I see it this way. You’re talking to me now. Really talking, and not your silly games of before.
You ask if I am afraid. Perhaps, but am I the only one?
What is your fear?
I have two.
One, I will hurt you.
Two, I will lose you.
It’s wrong and unprofessional and everything under the sun, yes. This was supposed to be a business relationship with no complicated romance. I liked you, of course, but I didn’t intend to become attached. This relationship was supposed to be about you and not me. I wanted a stable, familiar scene partner I could trust. I’d seen enough of the drama and wanted to withdraw into the privacy of my home.
Eliminating a safeword accomplished two things. It weeded out those who were only after my money (and pretending interest in the lifestyle). It would also circumvent, I thought, the tiresome back-and-forth of someone new enough not to have bad habits but might not understand the commitment.
In short, I wanted instant commitment.
I was wrong. Commitment takes a long time to build. As to the money, please do not give it another thought. Unless you misuse the money I give you (spending it on eBar auctions, for example, instead of rent and utilities), money allows you to get your writing done and focus on our time together once a week. That’s all. I’m not keeping track of how much you owe me. I don’t expect you to be more obedient because you’re getting paid.
I expect you to obey because you trust me and have committed to this relationship. Money is simply a tool that allows me to clear some of your outside distractions in order for you to do so. Does that make sense? In fact, I hope your writer-in-residence grant application gets accepted. It will help you to be more self-sufficient, yes, but it will also boost your confidence. I can’t pretend New Hampshire is my favorite state, but I’d love to see you thriving.
I sense, though, that finances are the least of our worries. It’s not even about pride in taking money, is it? There’s something more. Do you think that, because I pay you, I can send you away? It goes both ways. You can choose to leave. Always.
As to the tracking application. It appears I explained that badly. Susan, Clara, and Peter all have work phones with the tracking application installed. By giving one to you, it meant that you are now part of my household. They may not turn theirs off, either. Any more conversation about that will have to wait until later.
When Gemma visits this morning, I expect perfect obedience. Do not think that the fun of last night has softened my resolve. After a sound spanking, you are at your most receptive to instruction. Follow all of her instructions, and I will introduce you to one of my favorite toys.
Displease Gemma (and therefore me), and you will receive a second punishment spanking before enduring a rigorous session of obedience training. Remember how much you disliked kneeling at attention? Imagine how much more discomfort you would experience if kneeling on hard peas!
The choice will be yours each morning we are here. Then, if you have made the right decision, we will enjoy our afternoons. Have you ever ridden in a biplane? Or seen a manatee in the wild? You might think you’re too old for theme parks, but I assure you that the thrills are much more exciting when trying to ride a tram after a spanking.
Behave yourself, my girl.
Love,
The woman you adore
Chapter Twenty-One
Dear Raven,
Ouch ouch ouch ouch OUCH! Can we pretty please tell Gemma her services are no longer needed? Ow! I thought obedience was supposed to have its benefits? I’m never going to sit again!
And I thought you spanked hard. Wow! Please tell me I don’t have to go through this every morning? Owww…my poor backside. Does this amazing vacation include a trip to the hospital for a broken tailbone?
Kidding. I know both you and Gemma are far too careful for that, but oh my gosh. Ow!!!! Isn’t this where you cuddle me and kiss me and say that everything will be all right? I sure hope the something nice you promised for obedience is really nice, because right now I’m almost regretting listening to the both of you.
OWWW!!!!!
“Receptive”…yeah, right! More like too sore to say much!
(Or maybe that’s what you mean.)
No bumpy plane rides, thanks. Or tram rides. Or anything except lying on my stomach and being fed chocolate, wine
, and imported candy.
I mean if it pleases you, ma’am, and all that. Of course.
Please come back quickly. It hurts too much to sit down, although thankfully Gemma’s chairs are a lot softer than yours.
I mean, whatever you think is best. Ma’am.
At least this time, finishing my entry doesn’t mean another spanking!
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dear impossible, sweet girl of mine,
Here’s a darling little apron and hat for you to wear while cooking dinner tonight. At least, that’s if we actually cook dinner. Wear only what’s laid on the table. Nothing else.
Oh, yes. When I was at the market, I picked up a few items besides your outfit.
Good cooks always need a sturdy wooden spoon for their sous chefs.
Right?
Love,
The Head Chef
A Letter from Ana
Submission.
Obedience.
Wait, what?
Raven’s Girl , the first of the Raven series, presents a modern-day fairy tale: What if a starving artist found a sugar mama who fulfilled her kinky desires?
Raven’s Diary , the second installment, asks the question common to all fairy tales: What happens next?
Wouldn’t an independent, strong-minded, and reasonably well-adjusted adult struggle to accept orders from someone else? It sounds like fun and games, but Alena learns it’s not.
What if Raven decides Alena needs more sleep?
What if Alena doesn’t feel like complying?
Since this is an Ana story, of course we expect spanking. We would be disappointed if our heroine got away with disobedience, but doesn’t disobedience make sense in this context?
After all, we have seen the negative effect of blind obedience. From the Milgram experiment, in which study participants thought they were inflicting pain simply because someone in authority told them to do so, to real-life counterparts, human nature insists on personal culpability.
Raven's Diary: Book Two Page 7