Secret Desires Ch. 01

He must have noticed while we were in the band room, preparing for the show. I was very nervous and very hyperactive, I had just had a Mountain Dew, and I could feel the caffeine coursing through my veins. I was twirling about the room, making myself dizzy and my pupils were dilated, the room was so bright and lively, everyone was eager for the show to start. I began to annoy some of my fellow choir members with my hyperactivity, and as I twirled up to him, he gave me a warning. "If you do not cease this foolishness, I promise you that you will pay for it later," he said in a hushed urgent tone. I smiled up at him and brushed off his warning.

"What are you going to do about it?" I challenged, the worst anyone had ever done before was twist my arm behind my back and the pain was not unwelcome.

"You've been warned," he said forebodingly. His threat sent shivers down my spine, they were a mixture of pleasure and fear, and I did what I always did, shook them off. I persisted in pestering people until it was time to warm up for the show. The show began and all was well, it was our greatest show yet and everyone continuously complimented me on my performance. I smiled politely and thanked them all. I had forgotten his threat until after everyone had gone and I was left to clean up the dressing room.

About half an hour after the last person had left, I was in the dressing room, cleaning up the make-up and muttering to myself about how messy the girls in my choir could be, when I heard the door creak open, I did not look up as I asked, "Did you forget something?"

"Not at all," came the low reply, "but I'll bet you have." My head snapped up as I recognized the voice. I saw his reflection in the mirror. He was robust, with gentle yet fierce features. His hair was a dark chestnut color, and it was cut short, but I suddenly had the urge to run my fingers through it. His eyes were a soft, yet stern honey color and I couldn't help but thinking that I could stare into them forever. I slowly turned around. He walked up to me. I began to tremble as I remembered his promise to me. He smiled, "I see that you remember now. Before you start to have second thoughts, let me explain how this is going to work."

He walked over to the couch that I had cleared of all outfits and costumes, and sat down. He motioned me forward, and I came up to him slowly. "First, I'm going to explain what we are about to do. I warned you that there would be consequences for what you were doing, and you continued, letting me know that this is what you wanted. I am new at this school, but do not be fooled, I know an answer when I see, hear or even sense one. Yours was the loudest of all. You want the attention; you want a strong relationship, with a boyfriend who is stern, yet gentle and knows what you want as well as what you need. You want someone who is devoted, loving, warm, and stronger than you, because, despite what everyone sees and believes, you are small and insecure. Your disobedience is a sign of this, you are loud and happy, because that is how you thrive, living a lie, and making others believe that you are just fine, when, really, you are bleeding on the inside, am I right so far?"

I had hung my head in shame, as he asked me this question, he gently placed a finger under my chin, and I winced as his eyes met mine and I tried to avert his steady gaze. He was prying into my true being, and I did not like it. He saw the things that others had not, and was slowly peeling away at the mask I had created, slowly crumbling the walls that I had so carefully built to keep everyone out. Tears sprang in to my eyes, I did not want to admit that he was right, but I knew it to be true.

"Your silence says it all you know," he spoke steadily, tenderly. "So, you tested me," he continued, "no doubt I am not the first, but, unlike the others, I understand and am willing to pass this test, this battle of wit and will. Do not think me vain," he added, as he noted my annoyance at his words, "I am simply trying to explain to you that, no matter what you think, I am intrigued by you. I have watched you from a distance until now, but I am ready to tell you that, no matter what, I am willing to give you what you want and need. Let me finish," he said, sternly this time, annoyed at the criticism in my eyes, "I am ready to be here for you, I know that you have no doubt heard this in the past and are critical of my rather, in your eyes, cliché phrase, but I am here tonight to prove to you that I am not all talk. Are you ready? Do you know what I am ready and willing to do for you?"

His tone was so sincere, his expression so tender, yet stern, that I had no choice but to believe that he was indeed going to do what I had been hoping and waiting for since I first realized and, back then, had pushed away shamefully, that I was indeed a masochist. He was promising to be my sadist that I had dreamed about ever since that dreadful day. He was kind, gentle, yet firm and willing, and, best of all, he cared.

I had been fearful that my first encounter with a sadist was going to be cold, devoid of tender, heartfelt, intimacy, but I was wrong. I was brought out of my reverie when he gently took my hand in his. I looked down at him, for I was taller when he was sitting on the couch, (he was about 5' 10"), and I nodded. "Now, do you want me to tell you exactly what is going to happen? Or do you prefer surprise?"

"Tell me," I said quietly, breathlessly. His eyes sparkled.

"I will walk you through it. First," he said, "I am going to take you over my knee and spank you with your skirt on. Then, I am going to set you up right and, while you put your hands on my shoulders, I am going to take off your skirt. I will then proceed to put you over my knee again and increase the speed and intensity. When I decide that you are well punished for disobeying me, I will stand you up, put your skirt back on, and sit you on my knee gently, for this is the first time in a long time, I presume by your attitude, that you have been spanked, and naturally, your bottom will be a little tender. I will hold you for as long as you like and whisper words of comfort in your ear as you cry, for you no doubt will. Your tears will be good and cleanse you of all guilt. Are you ready?" I was trembling with anticipation as I nodded. He led me to his right side and gently pulled me over his knees. He rested a reassuring hand on my back.

"Oh," he added as almost an after thought, "and should you try to put your hands back while I am punishing you, I will hold them at the small of your back, and I will continue with your punishment." With that, he placed his left hand on my bottom. It left only to return a short while later with a small smack. It did not hurt but it surprised me and I instinctively placed my hand back to shield my backside. He gently but firmly grabbed my hand and continued his assault on my bottom. He peppered me at least a dozen times. Everything he did was gentle but firm and I could feel my shame slowly surface in the form of tears. When I began sobbing, he let me up.

His eyes searched mine and I knew he was looking for signs that he was hurting me in a bad way, but my eyes sparkled from the tears and I made sure to show the love that I felt for him and what he was doing for me. He slowly began to unbutton my skirt and pulled down the zipper. He slowly, almost leisurely pulled my skirt down and asked me quietly to step out of it. I held on to his shoulders as I gingerly stepped out of my skirt. He looked at me again and I nodded my reassurances, for I did not want to taint this moment with words. He pulled me over his knees again and this time massaged my underwear-clad bottom before he began again. This time, he was more quick and stern, and I sobbed harder as he spanked me more soundly than the first time, as though reminding me that this was not supposed to be pleasurable, but God how I enjoyed it. After about ten minutes, I began to regret everything bad I had ever done, and as he lifted me up I threw my arms around his neck as I cried, letting the tears cascade down my face, but I was laughing.

He lightly removed my arms as he stood me up, and I continued to cry, even as he placed my hands on his shoulders and helped me back into my skirt. Then, he gathered me in his arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck again, curled up in his lap and cried into his chest. I was still laughing as I cried tears of joy, for I was replete. I eventually calmed down enough to talk to him. I explained all of my "sins" of the past few years and I thanked him over and over again for cleansing me of my guilt. I looked up at him, and he told me that he never saw a prettier face than that of my tear-stained one. I smiled, it was a true smile because, for the first time in a long time, I felt truly loved and complete.

It's been about a week since that "incident" and not much has happened since. I was in the band room, hyped up on another soda, and annoying people as usual, when he entered. I didn't see him immediately, but I heard Erik Josh say, "Please deal with your girlfriend," and out of the corner of my eye I saw Erik point to me. By this time, everyone knew we were going out. Now, as to whether it was because of the way he looked at me every time we made eye contact, the hand holding, or the subtle rumors I had "accidentally" let fly around the school, I could not be sure; but at some point or other, everyone found out, at least all of our friends anyway.

I heard a sigh and a minute later, I felt his strong arms go around me in an attempt to contain me. I would have none of it however, and I slipped out of his grasp and twirled around the room. He grew slightly angered by this, as he called it, "act of defiance" and he called sharply to me. When I pretended not to hear him, he came up behind me again and whispered threateningly in my ear. "If you continue to act like this, especially since it is your birthday, I will not only refuse to give you your present, but I will pull up a chair, pull you over my knee and teach you a lesson in front of all of our friends! You may think I care about not showing my true colors, but if it will get you to behave, I will not hesitate to do it!" As if to put emphasis to his words, he squeezed I disagree suggestively. I yelped, attracting attention and grew cowed as I sat down in a nearby chair and pouted. He smiled and nodded his approval. Much to my chagrin, everyone applauded. He bowed and I grew pissed off. I was turning 19 today and he was spoiling my fun.

I got through the day, and before I knew it, we were riding the bus home. He handed me his cell phone and told me to tell my mom that I was going to his house to get my birthday present. His eyes glinted. Trembling, I dialed my mother's work phone number and in a calm, cool, and collected voice I said, "Hey mom, I know you don't like short notices, but I just wanted to let you know that I'm going to my boyfriend's house for a while."

"Well, are his parents home?" she asked.

"Yes, his mom works at home," I answered calmly. He raised an eyebrow out of disapproval and warning. I knew I would pay for that lie later, and it sent shivers of pleasure coursing through my body.

"Do you have homework?"

"Yes, but he promised that if you let me go to his house he'd see to it that I got all of my homework done." She paused, as though thinking about it for a while, he had come over to the house for dinner one night, they were blown away by how proper, and respectful he was.

She had even joked, "Maybe you could teach our daughter to be as respectful as you are!" He didn't know that I disrespected my parents and I winced, they didn't notice, but he did.

"Oh really?" he had answered, placing a hand on my thigh and squeezing it promisingly, "Well, I bet I can change that!" They had all laughed; except for me because I knew that he meant what he said. Sure enough, the next day, we went to his house, met his parents, and he told them that he was going to "show me his room". They nodded they're consent and he took me up to his room.

The first thing I noticed was that the walls were thick. "They're sound proof," he answered the question in my eyes. He locked the door, pulled up a chair, pulled me across his knees, and spanked me resolutely, lecturing me on the importance of having respect for my parents.

"You don't even know what my situation is!" I wailed, struggling as he swiftly spanked me.

"I don't need to know, unless your parents are beating you, which I know that they are not, you have no right to disrespect them," he answered calmly, continuing his assault on my backside. I obeyed my parents all the time after that, and never questioned their authority.

"Did you hear me?" my mother brought me out of my reverie.

"Sorry, you were breaking up," I lied. He only stared intently out of the bus window.

"I said that's fine, but I want you home by dinner," she said.

"No problem mom," I said happily. We got off at his stop and it was all I could do but to hold his hand to keep me from running to his house. He gave me a small smile as I rushed to his door; he proceeded to "fumble" with his keys, as though he forgot which one opened the door to his house. He only had three keys, one for the mailbox, one for his parents' car, and a tie-dye colored one for his house. Finally, I tried to snatch the keys out of his hands. He yanked them out of reach and my only reward was a swift smack to I disagree. I yelped, but it didn't hurt, and we were both laughing when we got into the house.

"So," I asked in what I thought to be a casual tone, "when do your parents get home?" He was in the fridge and produced two cans of Coke, handing me one before he opened his and drank from it. He leaned back on the cherry wood countertop, resting his elbows on it. He looked at me, his eyes held that familiar sparkle.

"Why does it matter?" he asked just as casually. I frowned.

"It matters to me," I said.

"Why? I already told you that they do not disturb me while I am in my room and my door is closed...and locked," he added suggestively. I shivered knowingly.

"Just tell me, dammit!" I was glaring at him now. At my tone and my "vulgarity" as he called it, he frowned and folded his arms.

"Excuse you," he said sharply. I flinched, but didn't back down. I was enjoying every minute of this. Or so I thought. "You have ten seconds to sincerely apologize to me before I make you truly sorry, now apologize!" He stepped toward me and I winced and back away.

Now it was my turn to be mad. "f**k you," I growled. No sooner had the words escaped my lips, he grabbed me around the waist and planted three hard smacks on the seat of my jeans. It STUNG! I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

"Do you want to rephrase that?" he asked calmly.

"I'm sorry..." I mumbled.

He picked up a flat wooden spoon and said, "Where's the sincerity?" before he burned I disagree with a dozen blows from the spoon. I knew he was trying to teach me a lesson and get his point across, but it was PAINFUL! I tried to reach back to shield myself, but he smacked my hand with the spoon and landed a couple more on my backside. "Now," he said as he placed the spoon on the counter, "are you going to be good and sincere, or am I going to have to bare your butt?" He was strong, and I knew that I would be stuck in this position unless I straightened up. The tears were still streaming down my face as I tired to speak.

"I—I'm sorry," I croaked.

"Sorry for what?" he was treating me like a child, and I didn't like it. I struggled, but he had an iron grip around my waist. He sighed. "Is this not your birthday? How old are you? Four? You were supposed to come here to get your present, but instead I have to punish you for being a little brat. Just give me a full apology and we can move on. Your soda is getting warm," he added as though that would convince me.

"Fine, but you have to put me down first," I said, feigning defeated. He let go and I stood up. I looked him in the eye... turned on my heels and ran. He chased me around the house. I was laughing, and after awhile it became contagious and he started laughing as well. Finally he caught me around the waist as I tried to run upstairs. He twirled me around and looked into my eyes, smiling. I smiled back and said, "you know I'm sorry, right?"

As if in answer, he leaned over me, took my head in his hands, and passionately kissed me. At first, I was afraid and resisted slightly. There had been so many guys that had kissed me, and ruined our friendship because of it. He and I were involved, but he had never shown his affection in this manner before, and it surprised and frightened me a little. He, being ever clairvoyant, seemed to sense this. He stopped and lifted his head to look deeply into my eyes.

"Hey, you know I'd never do anything to hurt you, physically or emotionally, on purpose. You know that, don't you?" he gently stroked my cheek with his finger, wiping away the tears that had escaped from my eyes and made their way down my face. I nodded, but I think that a part of me still didn't believe him because of how many times I had been hurt by guys in the past. As he held me he said, "My parents aren't coming home, they are gone for the weekend," he added, lowering his voice suggestively. I smiled and felt the familiar shivers of fear and pleasure, caress my spine. He saw the sparkle in my eyes and gave me a sexy half smile. We stood and gazed into each others' eyes as the sun set on my back. Then, he said the words that I had been longing to hear. "Want to be my naughty little girl tonight?"

My breath caught in my throat, so much for my promise to my mother about dinner. He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my waist, and kissed me deeply. I put my hands on his chest and kissed him back. There's no tongue involved because he knows I'm not into that, yet. His hands moved slowly down to I disagree and he squeezes. My hands ball into fists against his chest and he smiles, feeling my heart beat faster. "I love you babe," he says.

"I love you too" I whisper as I rest my head on his shoulder, he picks me up and carries me up the stairs like a sleepy child, I wrap my arms around his neck.

"Let's take a bath," he said. It wasn't a suggestion, but I nod in agreement, resting my face in his neck. I was his little girl tonight. He took me into the bathroom; he gently unwraps my arms and places me on the lid of the toilet. He turns the bath water on and pours in the lavender rose perfume he bought just for special occasions like this. I suddenly felt mischievous and, glancing at him, attempt to sneak out. It was as though he read my mind because, without turning around he said, "Stay put." I hesitate, before making another attempt.He saw me out of the corner of his eye.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, turning around and an arching an eyebrow. I made a mad dash to the door, but he had me around the waist before I could take three steps. "Do you know what happens when naughty little girls are disobedient?" he asked in a low tone. My eyes grew wide as he carried me over to the toilet, sat down on the lid, stood me up in front of him, peeled off my clothes slowly, one by one, before taking me over his knee. I wondered how many times I had been punished today. He set my butt on fire and I was sobbing before he let me up.

"We can have fun on your birthday, or you can misbehave, I can have fun all myself," at this statement he gave me a sadistic smile. I winced, knowing that he meant it. I got into the tub, tilted my head back looking up at the ceiling, and closed my eyes. I wasn't sure why, but for some reason I didn't feel self-conscious around him, I sat in the tub almost as if I was alone. However, I didn't like the look of my body, so I refused to look at myself without clothes on. He had begun washing me, gently scrubbing in slow, lazy circles. As he reached the middle of my chest, he stopped. I froze and my chest tightened, knowing what was coming. "Open your eyes, see how beautiful you are," he said gently.