tagBDSMThe Disciplinarian Ch. 01

The Disciplinarian Ch. 01

byTruthAndLove©

My name is Soo May. My best friends are Angie and Jennie. I am 22 years old and of Chinese descent. Jennie, my apartment mate, is 24. Angie is 29 and married.

Angie is taller than average, thin, long-legged, with straight, brown hair that falls to the middle of her back. She was a model until she got married and she is still beautiful. One of her grandparents was from India and, as a result, she has a nicely tanned skin all year round. Angie is always cool and collected, to the point that some people consider her a bit haughty. And, as much as I love her, I have to admit she can seem pretty stuck up at times.

Jennie is a curvaceous, fun loving, blond with curly shoulder length hair. There's a spray of freckles across her face and she has a small upturned nose. She has always been popular with men, unlike me, and I have felt envious of her at times. Truth be told, she has sometimes subtly flaunted the fact that she is much more popular with men than I am; but she's a good roommate and we've grown to be great buddies.

I am small, in virtually every sense. I stand just 4 feet, 10 inches, tall. My hips are no wider than a boy's and I'm nearly flat-chested. So much so, that even a "Miracle Bra" doesn't help much. "There's just not enough there to work with" as the saleslady at the lingerie shop put it. I have a pretty face, but all my life I've been seen as "cute" by men, never as sexy or even womanly. I've slept with just three men in my life. There was a one night stand with a man who admitted the next morning that he just wanted to know what it would be like to fuck someone as small as me. A fellow student in college only wanted to take me from behind, doggy style, and he repeatedly tried to coax me into giving him anal sex, which I refused. Only a few weeks after he broke up with me, he came out of the closet as gay.

Before him, there was the boy I lost my virginity to, when I was a junior in college. He had been normal for the first few weeks of our affair, but one day he brought me a whole outfit of girl clothes, and I mean little girl clothes, like those a 10 year old might wear. When he asked that I wear them to bed that night, I agreed because I didn't want to lose the only man who'd ever shown any sexual interest in me. With my size and body shape, I could fit into the clothes and I really looked like a 10 year old in them. Before long he was buying more little girl clothes for me and, as a kind of foreplay, he would ask me to act out scenes in which I behaved like a child. Before long we never had sex any other way: I was always playing a little girl. I finally broke up with him when he asked me to shave my pubis each evening before coming to bed in little girl jammies. I'd been in denial a long time, but I finally admitted to myself what kind of man he was.

Like all Chinese, my hair is dark and straight. I wear it long to try to give some femininity to my appearance, but I always braid it or tie it in back so that it doesn't fall over my chest and cover what little I have in the way of breasts.

Wine and Fantasy

Besides the usual socializing, the three of us have what we call our Wine and Fantasy evenings every other Thursday. Angie's husband, Roger, goes off to an all night poker game and Jennie and I go over to Angie's house. Angie pours us each a glass and then we go online and take turns reading Literotica stories to each other. Sometimes we make up our own variations of the stories and look for pictures on porno sites that match the stories. We slowly get a bit tipsy and after a while we are all feeling fizzy. Most of the stories we pick are heterosexual, but we've read some stories about Lesbians and Bi-s, as well. The stories I like best are the ones involving punishment and submission. Nothing dangerous, but spanking or forced stripping is a turn on. I love to imagine that I am submitting to a dominant man who controls me and gives me loving discipline. Jennie and Angie seem to feel the same way because as time goes on, more and more of our stories are in the mild S&M genre.

I've never told the others, but I go home and masturbate after our Wine and Fantasy meetings. Angie has told us that, after we go and her husband returns from poker, they have great sex. Angie is the aggressor. He doesn't know what we do on our nights (and he doesn't know we call them "Wine and Fantasy"). He thinks it's his poker winnings that turn her on. Jennie, who is rarely without a boyfriend -- or two, will often go straight from Angie's house to visit a boyfriend for a few hours. They have teasingly asked me about what I do after one of our evenings, hinting, with smirks, that they think I play with myself. I have always denied it indignantly; but I don't know if they believe me.

Even my sister, Li, to whom I'm very close, doesn't know that I play with myself. It is the only secret I keep from her. A few weeks ago I was complaining on the telephone to her about my nearly non-existent love life, something I do often in our talks. This time, however, instead of just murmuring sympathetically to me, she told me she had recently discovered something that had helped her through a lonely time between boyfriends and she thought it would be just the thing for me.

"There's this ... uh ... guy that I saw; I mean, met with from time to time for a few months before I met Derek," she told me. Derek is her current beau.

"I didn't tell you about him before," she continued, "because, well ... it's a little embarrassing. But I've grew to trust him and I think you would get a lot out of his services. From what you've told me about your friends, Angie and Jennie, I think they might benefit from his services too."

"This Guy?" I asked, puzzled, "Met With? Services? Good God, Li, did you hire a gigolo? A male prostitute?"

"No, no!" she practically shouted. "It's not like that. It's not sex uh- ... well, not exactly ... and he doesn't charge money. He was referred to me by a friend and he just helped me get back on track when I felt lonely and was maybe drinking too much and too often. He gave me some ... uh ... well ... self-discipline."

She gave me a telephone number to write down, and then continued. "Call that number, Soo May, and meet with the guy. I think it might be just the thing for you. I've already asked him if it would be OK if I referred you to him, so he won't be surprised when you call. Do it, Soo May. I think it might change your life."

We said our 'goodbye's quickly and after staring at the number for nearly an hour, I finally worked up the nerve to call. The man who answered sounded business-like but not unpleasant. He warmed up when I mentioned my sister's name and that she had recommended him to me. We agreed to meet the next day at a coffee house.

All or Nothing

I was a bit late, so he was already waiting. He smiled and stood to greet me. If he minded my tardiness, he gave no sign of it. He told me I could call him Mr. Daniels and after some pleasantries about the weather, we got down to business.

"So, uhhh, what ... uh, what exactly do you do?" asked I nervously as I fingered the business card the man had slid across the coffee shop table to me.

"The Disciplinarian" was all it said on the front side. On the flipside was just the telephone number that Li had given me.

"Didn't your sister tell you? She's was a client of mine for a few months," he said.

He was in his early 40s, brown-haired with the first wisps of gray. He was square-jawed and good-looking, although not in an overwhelming, movie star way. I guessed that he was a bit over six feet tall and he looked sharp in a suit. He had a confident, commanding, air about him and he looked at me with an intensity that increased my nervousness; but his most striking features were his bright blue, icy, eyes and his slight easy smile. The smile reminded me of George Clooney.

"She was kind of vague," I replied. "She just said that she thought you could provide ... uh ... what I need, and ... what my friends need."

"Well, my regular job is ... well ... that's not relevant, but many weekends and evenings I have a second profession although I should really call it a hobby since I don't charge. I provide discipline -- punishment if you will -- for those who need it. Some of my clients are parents with wayward college daughters. Others are husbands with self-indulgent, spendthrift wives. But most of my clients, by far, are women such as your sister; women who have a need that is not being filled by the man in their life ... if there is a man in their life; women who need someone to take control of them, at least once in a while. Sometimes they can't tell their man about the need. Other times, the man won't or can't provide what they need. Some don't have a man. Many of those daughters and wives continue to see me on their own accord after their first session."

"How did you come to have this ... uh ... hobby?" I asked.

"It started when an old Army buddy asked me for help with his daughter," he explained. "She needed discipline but he couldn't bring himself to be tough with her. He thought I could provide it better than he could. Originally, the plan was that she would work for me in my business. Having a regular job was supposed to teach her responsibility, but she was an arrogant, lazy, chronically tardy lass. Docking her pay and threatening to fire her had no effect. One day I heard her being sarcastic to a client on the phone. I threw her over my lap and spanked the living daylights out of her. It's the only time I've ever spanked out anger. Since, then I make it a point to keep my cool to ensure that I don't go too far. Anyway, at first she kicked and fought, but after a while she became obedient and I sent her home, not expecting to see her ever again. She came back to work the next day right on time, thanked me spontaneously for the spanking, and became a much better employee. After that, each Friday, just after closing, I would discuss with her the quality of her work that week and she willingly allowed me to discipline her in proportion to her failings. She was sexually aroused by the spankings I should say in the interest of full disclosure, but they had a punitive effect anyway. She became a model employee and straightened up her life. Her career has taken her elsewhere, now.

"At any rate, my buddy was delighted and he referred me to someone else he knew with a similar problem. It has grown from there. I work only on referral. I don't advertise."

"I see." I replied. "So, if I were to engage you, could tell me in detail what you would do?"

"I won't tell you exactly what I'm going to do, partly because I don't plan out a session in detail, but also because much of the effect for you comes from the fact that I am in control and, thus, you won't know from minute to minute what's going to happen next. All I will give you now is a general picture. The discipline will include spanking, possibly with an instrument of my choosing. How hard and how long is something that I will decide. You won't suffer any injuries or permanent marks; but I can assure you that it will hurt. You will most likely find the whole process embarrassing. Humiliation is part of the discipline. You may or may not find it sexually arousing."

I blushed at these last words and looked away.

He continued, "But even if you do, you will still definitely feel punished. Also, I will always be fully clothed and no part of me will penetrate any part of you ... unless you decide you want that."

There was a pause while I nervously tried to think of something to say. Finally, I had a question.

"Is there a safe word? I mean, in case things get too intense."

"Yes, the safe word is simply 'stop'; but let's be clear about this: my services are offered on an 'all or nothing' basis. If you use the safe word, I'll stop what I'm doing, but the entire session ends and I'll leave. My discipline isn't a menu from which you can pick just what you want. If I allowed that, then it would really be you in control, not me. I can't work that way, and even more importantly, you won't get much out of the session if I'm not in control. Much of the value for you is precisely the fact that a man is in control of you. So, once the session begins, you will have to obey me. Disobeying means that your session ends instantly and I go. I recommend that you decide ahead of time whether you are willing to put yourself in my hands for whatever I think is best for you. If that's too scary, then we should drop the whole idea."

"I see," said I thoughtfully. "What you say makes sense. If I'm in control, then, well, that kind of defeats the whole purpose of it."

He said nothing but nodded and gave me his George Clooney smile.

"Well," I thought of another question, "suppose someone chickens out and uses the safe word. I know the session ends, but they can call you and try again, can't they? You know, schedule another session?"

"Actually, no," he replied, sounding regretful but firm, "I usually won't work with a client again if they have used the safe word, because if I did that would also put them in control."

"I see."

"It's not an absolute rule," he elaborated, "and I've made a couple of exceptions to it; but I'm very reluctant to. So, basically, if someone uses the safe word, then that's the last they'll see of me."

I reflected on this for a few seconds and then asked, "Do you only work one-on-one? You see, these friends that I mentioned, they ... I mean ... well, I told them I would be meeting you today and they were wondering --"

"Groups are fine," he interjected. "In fact, group sessions create lots of opportunities to enhance the embarrassment and make the discipline more effective."

"However," he suddenly became serious, "I only allow observers in special cases when I think it will be beneficial to the client. That would be premature in your case. So no one can simply be an audience. Everyone there will be disciplined, and they will be disciplined in the manner and degree that I think appropriate. Moreover, the 'all or nothing' rule applies to them, too. If anyone uses the safe word, their session ends instantly and they must leave. I'll continue with the others. If the host uses the safe word, she'll have to go out shopping or something until I'm finished with the others."

Arrivals and Plans

And, so, after a flurry of phone calls, Angie, Jennie, and I agreed, not without a lot of hesitation, to a session of discipline with him. I arranged it for Angie's home on our next Wine and Fantasy night.

Jennie and I arrived in early evening shortly after Roger, Angie's husband, had gone off to the poker wars. As the three of us waited nervously at Angie's kitchen table for the doorbell to ring, we discussed the 'all or nothing' rule.

"Maybe to avoid awkwardness," Angie suggested, "we should each write down what kind of punishment or action we won't accept. We can give the list to Mr. Daniels ahead of time. That way, he can make a point of not asking us to do anything we won't do, so none of us will have to use the safe word and end our session early."

That seemed like a good idea, so Angie got out a piece of paper.

"I won't let him see my bare bottom or my breasts," Angie said. "I'm going to insist on keeping my underwear on through the whole thing."

She wrote this down under her name on the paper and then reminded us of something that she had bragged about before, "When I was a model, I was offered nearly half-a-million dollars to pose nude, but I wouldn't do it."

She handed the paper to Jennie who quickly wrote her name and under it wrote "Bare hand only. No paddles! No switches!"

"He mentioned that we might be sexually aroused," I said when Jennie handed me the sheet. "I couldn't bear to have a climax in front of a stranger."

I wrote my name on the paper and under it wrote "I won't allow arousal to the point of orgasm."

The doorbell rang at that moment. Angie and I greeted Mr. Daniel at the door and I introduced everybody. He was carrying a black leather attaché which he set on the floor of hallway. Angie gave him a quick tour of her home and then we had a cup of tea and chatted about the weather. I could tell that Angie and Jennie were quite taken with his eyes and his smile.

"Oh, by the way," Angie said handing him the sheet of paper. "We wanted to show this so you'd know our boundaries right from the start."

Mr. Daniels seemed surprised and scanned the sheet quickly. He frowned and seemed about to say something, but instead, he folded the paper into his pocket and smilingly said, "Yes, yes, well, we shall see."

First session: Angie

There was more talk about nothing until, finally, Mr. Daniels stood up and said "Let's get started. Since you are all first-timers, I don't think I'll plunge you straight into public punishment. I'm going to give each of you a private session in the bedroom first."

With that, he turned on his heel and strode purposely down the hall toward the bedroom. As he did, he called back over his shoulder, "Angie, you are first. Come now, and bring my bag with you."

Momentarily startled at how he had taken control, we simply stood there staring down the hall, until Angie realized he was waiting. She grabbed his bag and hurried down the hall, already anxious to please him. A moment after she'd gone in, the bedroom door closed.

Jennie and I sat on the sofa and we agreed that we would rather have gone first. It was going to be nerve-wracking waiting for our turn. For a long time we heard nothing from the bedroom and we whispered speculations about what might be going on in there.

Suddenly, Jennie interrupted my latest whisper and said, "What was that? I heard something."

We listened intently, not even breathing. After a moment, there was another sound from the bedroom.

"There it is, again," Jennie said.

"I know. I heard it, too; but what is it?"

We heard it a third time and this time it was unmistakably a human voice.

"That's Angie's voice," I said, "but I can't tell what she's saying."

We continued to hear the sound every five or six seconds for another minute. Then it stopped. We debated whether to sneak down the hall and listen at the bedroom door; but before we could decide, it started up again, louder this time.

"She's saying 'thoo.' What does that mean?" Jennie asked.

"It sounds more like 'and do'," I replied.

Again, Angie's chant, if that's what it was, stopped after about a minute and a half. Again, we grew impatient and wondered if we should listen at the door. Suddenly, it started up again. It was much louder now, and there was no mistaking what Angie was saying.

"Thank you!" we heard her say clearly.

Jennie and I looked at each other, puzzled, and in a few seconds we heard her say it again.

"Thank you!"

When she said it a third time a few seconds later, I saw Jennie's mouth and eyes open wide and she got that "Oh, I get it!" look on her face. I must have had the same look on my face because I got it too. Memories of dozens of Literotica stories came flooding back to me and I realized what was happening:

Angie was being spanked and thanking him out loud for each spank.

The 'thank you's continued for another minute or two. They were so loud Angie must know that we could hear her. She must be mortified, I thought, and I felt myself dampen at the thought of it.

After a minute-long pause, the spanking and the thanking started up again. Before long, Jennie and I could hear Angie make other sounds in between the 'thank you's: sometimes it was a gasp, other times it was an "unh" sound halfway between a moan and a grunt.

The pattern continued for about another ten minutes with rest periods of a minute each alternating with spankings of about one to two minutes. Toward the end, Angie's gasps and grunts became louder and longer while her thanks became tearful and garbled.

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byTruthAndLove© 11 comments/ 111159 views/ 31 favorites

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