by Kris Cook
Mia’s Spanking Diary
© 2012 Kris Cook
Published by Forbidden Passion Press at Smashwords
[email protected]
www.twitter.com/kris_cook
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www.kriscook.net
Mia is a graduate student working on a thesis about the sexual practices of people in the BDSM lifestyle. Lex, the owner of a very prominent local sex club, agrees to show her the ropes...literally, and a whole lot more. What begins as only a curious academic pursuit quickly becomes a brew of sizzling erotic pleasure for both Master Teacher and submissive student. As her lessons with him are about to come to an end, fun and games need to be put aside for something real--a chance for true love.
Copyright 2012 Kris Cook
Edited by Chloe Vale
Cover Art: Kendra Egret
Formatting: Chloe Vale
ePub ISBN: 978-1-937249-00-7
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to Chloe Vale, Kendra Egert, Melissa Schroeder, Shayla Black, and Lexi Blake for all the encouragement and help with this book. Thanks to my friends at Righteous Perverts.
Dedication
To Stephen
Table of Contents
Jan 1st
Jan 2nd
Jan 3rd
Jan 4th
Jan 5th
Jan 6th
Jan 7th
Booklist
About the Author
Ja
n 1st
Here’s my first entry.
What to say?
This is much harder than I thought. I haven’t written in one of these since I was thirteen when I had a crush on my eighth grade science teacher, Mr. Blackwell. That seems a hundred years ago, but it’s only been twelve, almost half my life.
Mmm.
Often times my thoughts get all jumbled up. I remember the last time I had to give a speech in a class. What a mess! Thankfully, I rarely have to speak publicly. It’s a bit of a phobia with me. I took out a butt load of student loans to avoid the road many grad students take – the dreaded prof’s aide.
God, I sound boring.
Keeping a diary seemed like such a good idea last night when I bought this. Now, I’m not so sure. Isn’t keeping a journal of your thoughts more of an adolescent activity than that of a college grad working on her master’s in sociology? Mostly true. But I need a distraction from all the dead-end research of my fucking thesis.
“Fucking?” LOL!
Why the hell did I choose the topic: “Principals and Practices of Participants of Bondage and Discipline, ‘Sadomasochism’ or Dominance and Submission (BDSM)?” One reason was to impress my adviser, the head of the department, Dr. Emily Vickers. What to say about Dr. Vickers? The day I gave the title of my thesis to the emotionless iceberg, her lips actually curled up just a bit. It didn’t shock her like I’d wanted. I have to admit I kind of wanted to watch the woman faint. Instead I’d felt something like satisfaction roll over her. Weird, but it was her first positive feedback about my work. I would’ve liked a little more from her, but the nonverbal reaction would have to suffice. Still, I decided to count that small smile as a victory.
Now, four months later with no real data to speak of, I think I may have painted myself into a corner.
I chose to write about sex. Smart, Mia. Really smart. I haven’t had that much experience with sex, but that’s not to say I’m totally naive about it.
I’ve had four boyfriends. The first one in ninth grade turned out to be gay. We’re still friends. The next two, not so much. The last one was really sweet, and I get a birthday card from him every year.
My first straight boyfriend was a virgin just like I was at the time. We fumbled our way through that first night together. He came. I didn’t. In fact, I never did reach orgasm the four more times we had sex. It was fun, though, and his kissing did improve over the year we were together. Unfortunately, his dad got transferred to Japan, and I never saw him again.
I met my next boyfriend the first week of my freshman year in college. He instantly came off as honest and sweet. Turned out that the prick was a liar and cheater. During the seven months we were together, he was with three other women. I did climax with him a few times, but my vibrator worked so much better to pleasure me than his dick ever did.
That’s not entirely true.
There was one time when he introduced me to spanking. I was soaked and had my one and only multiple-orgasm. He awoke something inside me that has lingered under my buttoned-up surface ever since. He’d pulled out a paddle that was flat and round. It had looked a little like an oversized version of a ping-pong paddle and had me mesmerized the instant I saw it. I’d just known that it would do something for me. Maybe that was why I’d bared my ass and knelt on all fours. Not for him in particular, but for that paddle and where I thought it might take me. Fuck, that experience was fantastic, and if I’d not found out what a motherfucker he was, I might’ve stayed with him longer just to feel his paddle on my ass every night.
My last boyfriend was really nice. But everything with him was so vanilla, including sex. There was quite a bit of it over the fourteen months we were together, but I never reached orgasm. God, I tried. It may sound crazy, but he was too sweet. I got flowers once a month, and he always let me pick which restaurant to go to. It was exhausting. Whenever I offered to help him with errands or whatever, he would tell me he had it covered. He didn’t understand why I broke it off with him, but I had to.
If I’m honest with myself, the real reason I chose BDSM as the topic for my thesis was to satisfy my own curiosity. You see, thinking about my ex-boyfriend spanking me gets me wet and dizzy. Even now, just writing about it is giving me tingles.
Shall I be totally honest? Why not? This is never going to be read by anyone.
The truth is that when I masturbate, I imagine getting spanked by a tall, muscular man. Sometimes this fantasy man is Mr. Blackwell, the aforementioned authoritative science teacher with dark hair and a voice like gravel mixed with honey. Other times he’s uniformed and so very serious. There are at least a dozen more mini-movies I run through my mind to get off. My favorite is the man who climbs in through the window while I’m sleeping. That last one never fails to send me to the moon.
Sick, sure. I’m probably a cautionary Lifetime movie waiting to happen, but I’m being brutally honest here.
That’s enough about my illicit fantasies. See what I mean about my mind wandering? Let me get back to where I’m at with my thesis.
Things haven’t turned out quite the way I thought they would for my paper. I must get real data from actual people if I have any chance of getting my thesis to a state that will earn me my master’s degree. I’ve tried to get interviews with people practicing BDSM. Trouble is that if you’re an outsider, they don’t want to talk to you. I’m what they affectionately call a tourist. Except without the affection. I even went to several exclusive clubs—the key word being “exclusive.” No luck. I couldn’t get past the front door.
I’ve shared my difficulties with Dr. Vickers, who couldn’t seem more disinterested if she tried. Her lackluster answer was to recommend I attend a lecture tomorrow night she’s hosting. Tomorrow night! Classes don’t start back up until Monday, January 12th. The woman hates me. With her as my adviser, I’m d
efinitely on my own, that’s for sure. A dull lecture is the last thing I need to finish my paper. I have half a mind to blow the boring lecture off. Maybe I’m not as much of a masochist as I thought, but she’s damn straight a sadist.
Knowing that it’s just you and me, diary, gives me courage to state my true feelings. For example: Dr. Vickers is a coldhearted bitch!
That felt so freeing. Expressing my intimate feelings here is going to be nice.
I guess I’ll go to the lecture just to keep Dr. Vickers off my back.
I think I’m going to enjoy this journaling.
That’s all for tonight.
Jan 2nd
Oh boy, diary.
God, I’m in my bed and still reeling from what just happened to me at the BDSM club.
Wait. Let me backtrack and get my thoughts in order, though the way I’m feeling, that might be hard to do. I can’t believe I actually jumped into this whole thing with my ass in the air—and for someone I just met.
Oh, God! I’ve never experienced anything like it.
Damn. His hand on my ass had me reeling from a million sensations.
I can’t do this right now.
I’ll be back.
****
Okay. Better. Thank you Dr. Feel Good. Oh, that’s what I named my vibrator.
Let me get back to the events of this amazing night.
It all started when I arrived at the lecture Dr. Vickers had told me to attend. I had thought about blowing it off. I’m so glad that I didn’t. I went to the lecture in the hopes of garnering an interview or at least some takeaways for my master’s thesis, but what I received was much more than I could’ve ever expected.
There were only fifteen people in attendance. Dr. Vickers passed around a sign-in sheet for the undergrads. Apparently, she was giving them some extra credit for attending. When my nemesis saw me enter, she pointed to the chair in the center of the front row, indicating that was where she expected me to sit. And though it pissed me off, I still complied. I don’t know what it is about me that I respond so easily to authority, even when I despise the person. A firm voice and a dismissive wave of a hand and I find myself unable to resist.
The rest of the attendees sat behind me from the third row to the last row. I sat alone with my hands in my lap like a little schoolgirl. Awkward. Sums up my life.
Then he walked in.
The speaker instantly had my heart pounding in my chest and my breath hitching in my lungs. He overflowed with confidence and power with each step, like a gladiator coming on the field to defeat anyone foolish enough to challenge him. In his early thirties, the man’s coal black hair was cut razor short, and his face, though not Hollywood handsome, had a ruggedness that made me squirm in the metal chair. His jaw was square, and he sported a five o’clock shadow. His eyes were so piercing blue I found myself unable to look away. In fact, every woman in the place was near drooling over his six-foot-five muscled frame. The speaker’s arrival instantly silenced the chatter among the other males in the room. Their combined testosterone would barely fill a thimble compared to his.
Dr. Vickers stepped up to the lectern and pounded on it with her fist. “Quiet students.”
Since no one was talking, I found her command odd. Oh, well. I knew I would never figure her out.
“Welcome. Tonight continues our series on Human Sexuality in the Modern Age. This is our fifth lecture. Our guest speaker is the owner of The Cell, located downtown, one of the most notable BDSM clubs in the country. He’s won several awards for his work with special effects. He’s written several bestselling books about the lifestyle including The Path of Dominance and Submission; The Master’s Rules; and The Guide to Creating Your Home Dungeon. He also hosts a weekly Q & A podcast for people deep in the life, just beginning, or only curious called “The Spanking Bench.”
I gasped aloud the instant Dr. Vickers mentioned the name of the speaker’s Internet show, but thankfully, no one seemed to notice.
“Students, welcome our guest, Master Lex Brogan.”
Clapping, I felt my temperature go up several degrees as his searing blue eyes seemed to fix on me.
“Thank you, Dr. Vickers for inviting me. Instead of giving a boring speech from a stale outline, I’m going to have you ask me questions, and I will answer them. Got it?”
“Yes, thank you,” I said, as if he and I were the only ones in the room.
“Good.” He paused. In a deep, commanding tone that startled me, he said, “Front Row, you go first.”
“Me?” I pointed to the center of my chest.
“Is there anyone else on the front row?”
“No.” My mouth was suddenly dry, and my mind turned to mush. “Umm. I am...working on...it’s a paper. I mean...I have this paper that I have to finish. It’s called ‘Principals and Practices of Participants of Bondage and Discipline, “Sadomasochism” or Dominance and Submission’ and it’s required to earn my master’s.” Every word I uttered made me sound more and more idiotic. Why did my mind always spin with a million conflicting thoughts, paralyzing me to act or to even speak coherently?
“I’m sure there’s a question in there somewhere.”
I shook my head. “Mr. Brogan—”
“It’s ‘Master.’”
“Right.” I kept looking down at my hands, which I was wringing together like a crazy woman. “What I’m trying to say is that...my paper isn’t really printed out. It’s on my computer, right now.”
“I understand the mechanics of a printer, young lady. Your question?”
“Yes, Sir.” Per my norm, I couldn’t seem to get out of my own head. “I’m working on my thesis for my master’s, Master Mister Brogan.”
“Really? Your thesis is on this topic and you don’t understand the very basic norms.” The irritation in his tone made me wince. “Just Master Lex.”
“Sorry. Got it.” I could’ve died from the shame I was feeling, but there were no rocks to get under, no trees to hide behind, and no escape route to run to. So, I took a deep breath, hoping to focus my thoughts on something sane and understandable. What to ask that would redeem me in his eyes? “Like I told you, Master Lex, the title of my paper is—”
“I’ve heard enough about your thesis already.” He narrowed his eyelids and tilted his head slightly forward, a clear message that his patience was thinning.
“Okay. I’m thinking.”
“And I’m waiting.”
I lost my head. He was demanding a question. I blurted the first thing that came to my mind. “How good are you at spanking?”
His eyebrows shot up and then immediately came down. The corners of his sexy mouth turned up ever so slightly. My cheeks burned and my eyes watered. I’d never been so embarrassed in all my life. The students behind me began giggling.
Master Lex’s lips thinned, and he glared at the other attendees. Instantly, the room was as still as a morgue.
Dr. Vickers smiled broadly, which stunned me. I didn’t know she had any humor in her. I wasn’t sure how I would ever face her again after my inappropriate outburst. Of all the things I could’ve asked the man, I chose to place both my feet directly into my gaping maw.
“Mister Bro...I mean Master Lex, I-I didn’t mean—”
“Quiet, Front Row.”
I snapped my mouth shut and felt a shiver shoot up and down my spine.
“Your question is valid.” He nodded. “Yes. I’m excellent at that activity. It’s one of my specialties. It is the reason I chose ‘The Spanking Bench’ as the name of my podcast.”
“T-Thank you,” I choked out.
“You’re welcome.” He chuckled, and then looked past me. “Next question.”
The room erupted in a slew of inquiries, but I couldn’t follow a single word. All that ran through my head was a little reenactment movie of what had just occurred.
What kind of woman asks this mountain of hotness if he was good at spanking?
Me, the blubbering idiot, of course.
As I rel
ived his answer, over and over, about spanking being one of his specialties, wild sensations sparked hot inside my body, arousing me to an uncomfortable state. Someone asked another question, but I really didn’t hear it. I was watching Master Lex’s hands. I tried to calm down, realizing that if I didn’t, my pussy would be dripping wet right in the middle of the lecture hall with Master Lex less than five feet in front of me.
I don’t know how long the session went on. More than an hour, I’m sure. As he continued answering much better phrased questions, I felt a whirlwind of thoughts blow through me. My first idea was to beeline for the exit the second the lecture ended, but then I decided against it. I wasn’t about to give Dr. Vickers the satisfaction of seeing me cower. She’d obviously invited me to this lecture expecting me to fail. But though I’d lost the battle at the beginning of Lex’s talk, I wasn’t about to lose the war. Besides, I needed to interview people who actually practiced BDSM, and Master Lex fit that bill perfectly. And he owned The Cell. If I got access, with Master Lex’s blessing, to his BDSM club, the members there might actually be receptive to answering some of my questions. Hell, some might even agree to fill out my survey. So, I stayed put in my chair on the front row after the talk was over, trying to muster the courage to approach him.
Several of the students came up to Master Lex after. When one of the long-legged co-eds touched his forearm, jealousy burst hot inside me, but I kept my reaction hidden by looking back at my hands in my lap.
As the last attendee left the room, I suddenly felt like I’d made a mistake by staying. Dr. Vickers, Master Lex, and I were the only ones left. When he turned his gaze back to me, I immediately knew I should’ve gone with my first thought of bolting from the room. Too late.