A Dirty Chill

**** This is an excerpt from my latest novel, Under Order *****

Heather Green is a young workaholic lawyer with no time for a relationship. Until she meets Mark. Mark's dominance, his commands, and his expectations soon lead Heather down a path she never dreamed possible. As Mark and Heather grow to know one another, Heather learns pieces of the lifestyle Mark is leading her towards. Will a BDSM intentional community make a slave free?

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The walk went quickly. Ralph's was just a block from my apartment. All of my work to disguise myself was for nothing; hardly anyone was outside.

Mark was dressed very casually in old blue jeans and a black t-shirt. Instead of his usual BMW, he had a brown, dented Honda. He kissed me when I arrived, then stood back to look at me.

"Didn't I tell you to wear the dress and nothing more?" he asked.

"I'm not wearing anything else," I said.

"Take off the sunglasses and the hat."

I took them off sheepishly, knowing I hadn't done as he had asked.

"Wait here," he said. He went into Ralph's and I waited impatiently. It was still very light outside and I was worried that I would see someone I knew.

Mark returned. "Follow me," he said. He led us around to the back of the store and unlocked the men's bathroom door. He pushed me inside and locked the door behind us.

"Bend over and put your hands on the sink, Heather."

I looked at him, then at the sink, then back to him. "Really?" I asked. The sink didn't appear to be very clean.

Without a word, Mark pushed me forcefully down to the sink. I used my hands to catch myself and he covered them with his. I felt his whole body around me, his strength and power so obvious. His hands were so much bigger than mine, holding me down.

"If you move these fucking hands before I'm done, you will be a very sorry little slave," he growled softly into my ear. I shuddered under him. I was scared.

"Did you think that I wanted you to wear a little disguise along with your outfit, Heather?" he asked, standing up and positioning himself behind me.

"No," I admitted.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice that you disobeyed?"

"I... I didn't know. I didn't know if you were serious," I said. I looked down at the sink and saw rings of mineral deposits. I decided I did not like men's bathrooms.

"Look back at me, Heather," he said. I looked at him and was relieved to see he had a small smile on his face. "You can rest assured, my dear, for any future commands that I give you, that I am always very serious."

He reached to his back pocket and produced a wooden spoon. "This," he said, "is something I usually carry when I'm going out with a slave or submissive girl. In public, it is very difficult to discretely give a naughty girl a proper punishment. But I can use this quite effectively without producing a lot of noise. As long as you keep quiet, Heather, your neighborhood shopkeeper won't be the wiser. You may face forward now."

I looked forward, a bit annoyed. I didn't want to be punished. It seemed so unfair that he would spank me for a simple misunderstanding.

Mark pulled my dress up over my ass, bunching it up at my waist. He wasted no time and used the spoon to pepper my butt with a series of spanks.

I bit my lip to keep myself from crying out. It was worse then his hand, and maybe even worse then the paddle Jasmine used to spank me. It stung. I clutched the sides of the sink as hard as I could, not knowing if I would be able to keep myself from using my hands to block the blows. Before long I was hopping from foot to foot, moving my ass around to try to avoid his spanks.

He stopped and I breathed a sigh of relief. His hands grazed my skin softly. "Do you think you've been punished enough, Heather?" he asked.

"Yes," I said quickly. Definitely.

"I disagree, but I prefer a change in venue. Wash your hands."

I washed my hands thoroughly. Mark pulled my dress down and led me back out to the parking lot.

"Get in. I'll return the bathroom key to Ralph," he said, unlocking the door to the car.

We drove for over a half hour. I realized he was taking us to one of the sketchy parts of town. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been to this area. He pulled into street parking and gestured to a restaurant across the road. It was a diner that desperately needed new siding. On the glass door entrance was a neon 'open' sign.

"Do you think a lot of your colleagues go to restaurants like this?"

"Um, no," I said.

"Or friends?"

"Nope."

"Or estranged Mormon relatives?" he said, looking at me and smiling.

"More likely scenario, but no. I don't think so."

"Good. Let's go."

"Like this? Here?" I asked nervously, looking down at my outfit. My dress barely covered my tits and my ass, and my boots and makeup just made the outfit over the top. In this part of town, I'd be assumed to be an actual prostitute wearing this kind of thing.

"Ah. Your hesitation reminds me that you still deserve a little more punishment. And I love embarrassing you. It's so easy. Come on, follow me. I have an idea."

I reluctantly followed Mark as he quickly walked across the street and into the restaurant. It was crowded, to my disappointment, and I felt the eyes of the customers on me as we entered. Mark signaled a waitress and asked to speak to the manager.

Seconds later, a man around 50 years old with a bit of a gut sauntered up to us.

"What do you want?" he grumbled, glaring at Mark and eying me with lust. He spoke with a bit of an accent that could only be described as 'rural'. I stepped behind Mark a little bit more, trying to hide from the man's gaze.

"Hello, sir," Mark began, reaching out to shake the man's hand. "Listen, I have an odd question for you. Do you have an office where we can speak privately?"

The man looked Mark up and down and asked, "Is you a cop?"

"No, sir."

"Fine, then. I'm Wayne. I don't got no personal office. You want private... we could talk in the refrigerator. It's a walk-in fridge, just got 'er installed last week."

"That would be perfect," said Mark. We followed Wayne back into the kitchen, which was surprisingly clean. He opened the large, steel door of the fridge and shouted out to the cooks, "HEY – WE'S GOT A PRIVATE DISCUSSION TO HAVE. STAY OUTTA HERE FOR A FEW MINUTES."

The three cooks murmured and nodded, not paying much attention to their boss. We all entered the refrigerator, and Wayne shut the door behind us and turned on the light. My nipples immediately hardened from the cold and I shivered in my skimpy dress. The light was florescent and bright. I wished Wayne had an office. A dimply lit office would befit him well.

"Do you wanna sit down on something? There's buckets under that shelf," he said.

"No, I don't think that's necessary," replied Mark.

"So what do you want?" Wayne asked, his voice slightly irritable. He was staring directly at me though speaking to Mark.

"Well, I've got a bit of a problem," Mark began. "This young lady is on a date with me. She's been a bit naughty. I want to give her a spanking, but I'm just too far from home to spank her in private. I know this is a really strange request, but would you mind if we spank her here?"

My jaw dropped open. I couldn't believe these words were flowing so easily out of Mark's mouth.

"Well I'll be goddamned," said Wayne. I looked at him, wondering if he would kick us out immediately. "You sure you ain't a cop?" he asked.

"I'm not a cop," said Mark.

"And her neither?" he asked, leering at me.

"She's a waitress."

"Yeah, figures," said Wayne. "I got half a mind to spank some of the waitresses here, spillin' every damned thing and takin' thirty minute cigarette breaks. Like they're queens or somethin', right?"

"That's exactly right," said Mark.

"Well, you wanna spank her in this here 'frigerator, well you can go right ahead. Only thing is I get to watch."

My stomach turned over and I looked at Mark, desperately wanting him to take me away from this terrible situation. He looked back at me and smiled slyly.

"Actually," Mark said, "if you don't mind, I think it would do her good to get a spanking from you."

Wayne looked at Mark, then at me, and back to Mark. A broad smile formed across his face. "Well I'll be goddamned," he said again. "This day sure is turnin' around. I had my best cook quit this mornin', and the wife's all angry at me about somethin' stupid or other. If it wouldn't suit me to spank your pretty little girlfriend, I dunno what would. Goddamn."

"All right then. Do you mind doing it here?" Mark asked.

"I don't mind one tiny lil' bit," said Wayne.

"Very good. Darling, please take your dress off and bend over. You can rest your hands on your knees."

In spite of the cool temperature of the refrigerator I could feel my cheeks burning with shame. I pulled my dress off and handed it to Mark. Then I turned towards the walls behind us and bent over. My mind was spinning with the humiliation of being so exposed to this stranger. The only comfort I felt was that I knew I'd never see this man again.

Wayne let out a long, low whistle. "Boy, does your girl have a nice ass."

"She does... but she definitely needs it reddened on occasion. It helps to keep her in line," Mark explained. "Have you spanked a girl before, Wayne?"

"Well not just like this, that's for sure. I's smacked my wife good and hard on the ass once in awhile, but only when I'm screwin' her," he said.

"OK. Go on and give this naughty girl a few spanks," Mark said. I cringed, dreading this man touching me more than the pain of the spanking to come. Two astonishingly light spanks fell on my ass, followed by a quick grope of both of my ass and then two more light spanks.

"Here," said Mark. I looked up to see him holding his hand cupped a little for Wayne, demonstrating. "Try it like this."

SMACK!

"Ow!" I cried as Mark spanked me hard.

Wayne let out another low whistle. "Well I'll be damned," he said.

"Just give her a few like that, and then rub her butt for awhile. Then a few more, and so on," Mark said helpfully. I shot a glare back at him and he grinned at me.

Wayne was a quick student and did just as Mark said, alternating firm smacks on my ass with copious amounts of rubbing and groping. I was cold and ashamed and wanted nothing more than for this punishment to be over. The heat of the spanking only relieved the cold feeling on my ass. I shivered from both the pain and the chill and I couldn't tell the difference between the two sensations.

"I think that's pretty good, Wayne," Mark finally said. I breathed deeply with a rush of relief. "Stand up and thank him, darling."

I stood up and turned around, debating whether I should cover my tits or my bare cunt from Wayne's creepy eyes. I tried to cover both, using my left hand and arm to conceal my breasts and my right hand to hide my pussy. I looked up at Mark and saw his eyebrows furrowing. He shook his head and I sighed, placing my hands at my sides. He wanted to show me off to this man.

"Thank you, Wayne, for spanking me," I said.

"You sure are welcome, girl," Wayne replied. "Hell, I'll spank you anytime."

"Here's your dress, put it on now," said Mark.

As fast as I could, I put on the dress and pulled it as far down over my butt as I could.

"We're going to grab a bite to eat here, Wayne. Anything on your menu that you recommend we try?" asked Mark.

Wayne opened the door and I nearly ran out to the kitchen. I was cold. All three of the people working in the kitchen looked up at us when we left the walk-in refrigerator. Had they heard anything? Had they heard everything?

I barely listened as Wayne droned on and on about the food. He led us back to a corner booth in the front of the restaurant and handed us both laminated menus. There were windows all around us, brightly lighting our table.

"Well it was sure nice meetin' you both. What did you say your names are?"

"I'm Steven," said Mark quickly. "And this is Kate."

"All right. You two enjoy your meal. Ya'lls welcome back, anytime." Wayne paused before leaving us, taking a few inappropriate seconds to look at me. I shrunk down into the booth.

*** The next chapter of the story details Mark and Heather's second BDSM negotiation scene where she explains her limits. Will she make a good slave? ***