The Alexandra Series

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The Alexandra Series Page 20

by Lizbeth Dusseau


  “Why?” I asked.

  “Why?” he returned.

  “Why did you even agree to this knowing what I was hoping for?”

  He looked at me with surprising frailty, fleeting though it would be.

  “I suppose that there is part of me that keeps hoping I’ll break through my facades and find something deeper than the games.”

  I was tired and exhausted, and for lack of anything better to do, I sank back down on the mattress at his side.

  “But you never do?”

  “No, I don’t.” He shrugged. “You’re much braver than I am, Alex. I could never take a journey of the heart like you’ve taken with your sexuality.”

  “I don’t believe that. If I could create myself as I am, so could you create what you want,” I pleaded with him.

  “I gave up, Alex, I gave up trying to change long ago.”

  “And yet you haunt yourself with the possibility of tenderness and love?”

  “Only in moments like these. And I don’t let them happen very often. Just with the few like you.”

  For the first time, I was beginning to feel something real from him.

  “But, my dear, there’s always another Alexandra waiting. And while you’re off ‘happily ever after’, I’ll be doing what I do best and in some small way enjoying it.” There was that aristocratic triumph in his voice. That self-aware resignation, that acceptance of his fatal flaw. It almost resurrected the desires I’d once felt for him, but that would never really happen.

  His previous advice about wanting my sexual awakening as much as I wanted him came back to haunt me. I could be grateful now. He’d taken me everywhere I’d wanted to go and left me a woman of choice, not fear, a woman prepared to combine lust of the body with the lust of heart. I couldn’t be anything but grateful for that.

  Reggie helped me remove the garment of chains and slip into soft leggings and a billowy silk shirt. Before I dressed, I felt the ring that pierced me. I smiled at him as I felt it dangle against my clit.

  “The ring, it’s really for me, not you,” I acknowledged.

  “Yes it is,” he agreed.

  “But that was one fantasy I never told you about.”

  “You didn’t have to,” he snickered.

  “I didn’t have to tell you a lot of things,” I added.

  “What I lack in ability to love, I make up for in my ability to discern each woman’s private passion. And frankly, Alex, you were so easy because you desire so much. There was no way I could fail with you, at least in that regard.”

  There was something tender and genuine in him now, but it didn’t exist beyond his dramas, and I needed more. I gazed around the strange room. I didn’t want to forget anything about my weeks with Reggie. But I knew that my time with him was finally over.

  “I’m ready to leave,” I said.

  “I’m glad,” he replied. “If you stayed any longer, I just might have changed my mind.” He was laughing lightly.

  I was satisfied with his small admission. He wouldn’t forget me, that I knew.

  The cool breeze of the dying night greeted us as we left. It would be morning soon, and I’d once again begin a new adventure.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Walking up the apartment steps, I placed my key in the door and opened it. I hated most of what I saw. I’d tear the curtains down, recover the sofa, throw away the doilies and the hearts on the wall. They’d be replaced with bold colors, rich wood, and some decent art. I wasn’t the same sweet and gentle woman that had left so many weeks before. Maybe moving would be easier.

  And yet, something in the room caught my eye. Out of place. A bowl. A blown glass bowl filled with fresh fruit – I’d seen it before. Beside it a bottle of Merlot. And the apartment that should have suffered from lack of care was clean. In the refrigerator was fresh food, vegetables, fruit and pasta sauce.

  Will.

  I’d wondered all day about us, about what had really happened in our relationship and where it would go now that my obsession with Reggie was over. The apartment said it all.

  I was flying out the door, down the stairs and rapping on his door. “Will!” I shouted. I couldn’t wait to see him.

  Then his face appeared and he greeted me with the most amazing grin.

  “So, you’re back, huh?”

  I threw my arms around him, hugged tight, and felt his body melt into mine. Oh yes, this was where I belonged! What a crazy means to discover that fact. What an amazing man to allow me the time and freedom to discover the woman inside of me. Not the fantasy woman but the real one.

  I knew we’d be in bed together that night – or maybe we’d just roll around on the floor from my place to his, between a feast of spaghetti and wine and fruit and love. The possibilities had me giggling. We could create a million dramas and feast on lust forever. It was a moment of perfect bliss – though one I suspected would change over time. Nothing ever stays perfect, does it? But I had in Will what I needed most in a man. Thank god I’d finally come to my senses. He’d give me the darkness and the fire, but he’d also give me love. And all of that, I would willingly return.

  Alexandra’s Dilemma

  Chapter One

  “You had the man spank you!” Will charged at me with eyes flashing. He’d never been angry like this – at least not that I could recall.

  “I’m so sorry, honestly. I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Couldn’t help yourself? Really?” He shook his head in disbelief. “So, how the hell did you find this man? Pluck him off the street, and say ‘please spank my bottom?’”

  I bit my lip, knowing that this would never sound right to him, but I had to explain.

  “I saw his name in an online ad.” My face was hot and flushed, and likely beet red. How did I let myself get caught in this disaster? Foolish. Naïve. And totally stupid of me to come home looking so distraught. I’ve never been a good liar. But then, it never entered my mind that he would be there. He wasn’t supposed to be home in the first place. But once he saw me, I knew I was in trouble. He can read me as if I were an open book.

  “A personal ad?” He was astounded. “Where the hell did spanking get mentioned in a personal ad? And why would you be looking at on-line personals in the first place?”

  “It was on a spanking site I some sometimes go to – you know my fantasies.”

  “Oh yes, I know your fantasies,” he said with a sarcastic smirk. “So, you just order up any little fantasy you desire?”

  “It’s not really like that,” I said meekly.

  “So how many times have you been with this guy?” he continued.

  I gulped, my face twisted into a grimace. “Three.”

  “Three!”

  “Yeah,” I came back weakly. There was something about the whole thing, I couldn’t stay away.”

  “Like what, what couldn’t you stay away from?”

  Will was hurt, very hurt, even though it came out in the form of anger. I bit my lip again, blushing like a naughty kid. How could I tell him, how could I even begin?

  “I guess the desire has never really gone away.” I thought that should explain it all.

  “So you wanted to be punished?”

  “I guess so.”

  “And you didn’t come to me?”

  It had been over three years since I’d been ‘trained’ to follow my submissive inclinations. Will had taken me to his good friend and lifestyle dominant Reggie for the full treatment. My strange sexual predilections had only frustrated us both. As much as we loved each other, as great as the sex was, there was a darker side of me that I needed to explore. One day I’d say I wanted to indulge in some odd sexual kink, only to get freaked out and change my mind about it soon as Will got involved. We both got so frustrated I thought it would tear our relationship apart. Reggie became the answer we needed. He was not emotionally attached to me the way Will was, and he didn’t allow me to change my mind on a whim. Once I agreed to be submit to him, I had to give up control. It wa
s a tough struggle and it wasn’t an easy time for me. There were some fierce lessons to be learned, but it let me back to Will.

  I wonder now how I ended up in yet another sticky situation with the man I love.

  I know that when I left Reggie, I’d had enough of being controlled. I wasn’t ready to let Will punish me the way Reggie had. I wanted something softer and more intimate than Reggie’s cool domination – although I wasn’t exactly sure what it was. For months I wavered back and forth in a strange vacuum. But the one consistent thing, I ignored Will’s attempts to exert his control over me. I claimed I’d been ‘healed’ of my need for dominance/submission, and the two of us basked in the more easily acceptable aspects of our relationship. Will was fooled. He loved his newfound sexual siren who liked to dress in sexy clothes, who would tease him mercilessly, and would have sex with him almost any time he asked. My openness thrilled him even though submission was shoved conveniently under the rug.

  However, when I stumbled into a spanking website, I found myself drawn to stories and the testimonials, and eventually into the alluring advertisements. I wondered what it would be like to be submissively held in a man’s lap and be spanked. It would certainly be a different kind of submission than I experienced in Reggie’s hands.

  Choosing Keith’s ad, I had no idea what I was getting into, but I knew I had to go through with at least one spanking session. As much as I tried to push the thought from my mind, it soon became an obsession. Keith’s ad led me to believe that this dominant man was experienced, sensitive and interesting. What more could I ask? After all, it was just a spanking, nothing more. One measly little spanking – what could be wrong with that?

  I met Keith at a hotel restaurant on an evening three weeks ago. I was initially apprehensive, of course, thinking as I waited for him in the hotel bar, that I was being totally foolish for meeting a stranger like this. Yet our conversations over the phone had been delightful; the tingling rush hearing his stern voice reminded me how much I yearned for that kind of interaction with a man.

  On first glance, I found Keith reasonably attractive and yes, very stern. He was a professor at the University, telling me he taught medieval literature. I even verified his credentials at the University website, which he urged me to do. His interest in spanking was completely ‘recreational,’ a term I thought amusing, but perhaps apropos for the relationship we were contemplating. Purely platonic. I insisted on that.

  Keith bought me a drink which settled me down, and for nearly a half hour we talked about nothing in particular. My hands were sweating and my face was flushed the whole time, not to mention that my bottom tingled in anticipation.

  “So Alex, I think it’s time we got on with the correction,” Keith said looking at me in a very formal way.

  “Okay,” I replied.

  “Answer “yes sir,” to my instructions,” he corrected me gently, though his stern control was evident.

  “Yes sir,” I answered immediately.

  Keith led me upstairs to the room he’d reserved: a cold sterile hotel room that I remember only for its unremarkable appearance. To its credit however, it did have an armless straight back chair that became the focal point of the night, along with my bottom.

  Keith, being the no nonsense kind of man he is, pulled the chair out and sat down, motioning me to stand in front of him. I thought we were going rather fast, but then I hadn’t been spanked like this before.

  “You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” he scolded me. Shades of childhood reprimands rang in my ears, and I quaked in fear, like I might have when I was a kid.“Yes sir,” I replied meekly.

  “And you deserve a thorough paddling.”

  “Yes sir.” I lowered my eyes, allowing myself to get into the mood of the night, feeling as I had when I’d been submissive to a man before.

  It struck me for an instant, that this should be Will not Keith sitting in that chair. I should have made my apologies right then and left; but I was too excited to go so far and suddenly stop. I couldn’t. For all the screaming in my head, I couldn’t stop.

  “I’m afraid this will have to be a bare bottomed paddling, as naughty as you’ve been.”

  “Yes sir,” I agreed to his request. I suppose I wouldn’t want it otherwise.

  “I want to be sure you learn your lesson,” he advised me.

  “Yes sir.”

  The fact that my misdeeds were not clear to me, that this was in a sense a very “bogus” event didn’t seem to bother either one of us. Keith and I had an understanding, and were following through with this scene in order to meet our complimentary needs: his to punish; mine to be punished. It didn’t need to be anything more than that.

  When he mentioned bare bottomed I did hope he’d pull me over his lap before my skirt went up; and I was very relieved when he did. Once resting on his strong thighs, his left arm went around my waist to secure me tightly. With his right hand, Keith reached down and drew my skirt up over my thighs, pushing the wool garment to my waist. I’d worn a garter belt and stockings to make Keith’s job easier. For him to have my bottom bare, all he had to do was pull down my black cotton briefs.

  I trembled all the way to my toes when he lifted the waist band and drew them back. This was ‘naughty’ all by itself, draping myself over a stranger’s legs and allowing him free reign to punish me like a child. Yet, once the first smack struck, I wasn’t thinking anymore, sexually, submissively or otherwise.

  Keith wasn’t kidding; he had a very commanding way of laying on his hand. He literally pelted me with one sharp smack after another and my bottom was instantly hot. I suppose I suspected something easier, since I was a first time ‘spankee,’ but Keith saw otherwise.

  One after another I took the smacks, finding myself naturally wiggling in an effort to get away from the burning sting. After several minutes, he stopped.

  It seemed a little abrupt until I realized that he wasn’t finished.

  “Now for the real thing,” he announced.

  I had a feeling this would happen when I saw the hairbrush on the table. As much as he spanked my bottom with his hand, I didn’t think that I’d escape a few rounds with the brush.

  At first Keith ran the smooth wood over my hot bottom, the thing feeling rather cool in comparison to my well heated ass cheeks. It actually felt welcome for an instant, until abruptly he let the thing fly, and it was coming down hard and fast on my posterior, just the way he’d used his hand.

  “Stop! Please stop!” I insisted. I’d had enough.

  But my disciplinarian was not at all dissuaded by my pleas. That nasty brush just continued the treatment, each smack seeming harder than the last.

  After one harrowing round of smacks, at least a half dozen, I think, Keith paused for me to catch my breath, and then he resumed; very likely because I was foolish enough to wiggle on his lap as if I wanted even more.

  “Please stop now!” I wailed loudly.

  I would have thought he would comply with my wishes, but Keith seemed to think I could take much more, because he refused to stop. One punishing smack after another and I was ready to quit this stupid game and never ever try it again.

  Yet when Keith finally slowed down, I found myself again feeling aroused, my body beginning to churn erotically, my whole mind consumed again by the passions that so often haunt me. Desire leaped up at me and roared. I think I might have let Keith take me sexually on the spot, except that we’d agreed to keep this strictly disciplinary.

  When he set me on my feet again, my skirt instantly dropped around my legs, covering my backside, though my panties were still on the floor at my feet. I found myself snuffing. I’d been crying and there were tears to wipe away.

  “Hand me your panties,” Keith ordered.

  “My panties?”

  “Yes, Alex, your panties.” He was quite firm about this.

  “Yes sir.” I reached down and retrieved my underwear and handed them to him.

  “Now, go look at yourself in the mir
ror, then you can stand in the corner.”

  “In the corner?” I asked in a very timid voice. I didn’t want to upset him, but this seemed kind of silly.

  “I suggest you quit questioning me,” he replied sharply.

  I was forgetting myself. The additional treatment was solely for the purpose of humiliating me, and I was certainly feeling a heap load of shame.

  Gathering my skirt around me, I moved to the mirror and looked at my reddened bottom, surprised by the erratic blush across my white ass. And then looking back to Keith, I hoped he’d give me some reprieve, but by the look on his face, he was as determined as he’d been earlier. Retreating to the corner of the room, I stood there with my bottom bared, while Keith waited for it to do whatever he had in mind. It was likely not more than ten minutes when and he ordered me to his side again.

  “Here are your panties,” he said.

  “Thank you.” I was thanking him for not just my underwear but the spanking too.

  “I hope you’ll behave yourself until our next appointment,” he said. There was NO next appointment in my book, but the suggestion was now on the table.

  “Yes, sir,” I replied.

  With that he dismissed me and I was quickly out the door.

  My body was roaring, mad with sexual heat. The pain had turned into a sensuous warmth that spread throughout my ass. I played with myself all the way home from the hotel.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t come to you, Will, but I just didn’t know how to tell you,” I stammered. “And it was not at all what I thought it might be…in fact, it was awful.”

  He wasn’t buying it “Awful, really? If it was so awful, why did you go back twice more? Your story is a little flimsy, Alex.”

  “Well, it didn’t really start out awful,” I admitted. “That only happened later.”

  “So suppose you tell me what did happen? And don’t you dare lie to me.” He was absolutely livid – again.

  “Well,” I began, “I met Keith at his hotel.”

  “He doesn’t live in town?”

  “No.”

  “Go on.”

 

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