The Guardianship
Part Three
by Jack Lennox* * * * * * *
3
Sundays were for sleeping in. It was almost 10 AM, and at the kitchen table, Dan sat across from her reading the Sports pages. Nina had finished her cup of coffee and was feeling fresh and wide awake. The night's emotional journey had been rough, but when she opened her eyes that morning, sunlight was pouring through her window, infusing the room with both optimism and clarity. All of her senses seemed heightened. With pencil in hand, the day's crossword puzzle was spread out before her, but she was too distracted to find it of real interest. She was engaged by a different puzzle, and under the circumstances, one that was far more difficult than she thought it should be. How does a girl around here earn herself a spanking?
Nina thought it a delicious kind of hell - a temptation wrapped in a threat - hanging over her each day - at home, at work, at play - an intoxicating potential - a guarded secret that could make her blush when she thought of it. In very fundamental ways, she was a teenager again. A little crazy. It was as if she had gone back in time to get a second chance at it, but it was becoming increasingly frustrating to have to be the good girl all of the time.
She watched Dan put his paper down, get up, go to the refrigerator and pour himself some orange juice. She had already noticed earlier that he was wearing shorts ...tan muscular legs that could form the perfect lap?
"Juice?" he asked, holding out the pitcher.
She said no, thinking yes. It was an irony. The threat that was supposed to compel her to behave was also her desire; her desire was still a fear. In spite of any fear she may have had, though, the real reason that she was a good girl was tied to her desire to please Dan, her Guardian ...her forbidden flame.
The discipline he imposed had benefited her greatly. She needed the regimentation. She needed the incentive to take care of herself, and his philosophy of "all good things in moderation" was an attainable compromise for her. The bedtimes meant she was getting enough sleep, getting to work on time and able to function at her best. Her curfews kept her social-drinking in check and limited her time with her wild "bar-friends" downtown. He had taught her a few things about nutrition, and she was eating more balanced meals without all the junk food bingeing. He had insisted she see a doctor, and she would continue with regular visits and all necessary examinations. Having found her cholesterol to be moderately high, they incorporated her doctor's suggestions into rules for her diet. Of course, there were the brisk walks. She figured she was doing over 20 miles a week now, and it felt good, gave her a new energy. Dan had told her not to be concerned about her weight; if she was healthy, her body would settle at its natural comfortable level. She admitted to herself that it had already returned to a more slender shape resembling her youth ...certainly not sexy enough to attract a guy like him.
"Sure? A little extra Vitamin-C?" he offered, still holding the pitcher of juice. They had finished a light breakfast. He did all the cooking.
"No, thanks, I'm fine," she smiled and winked at him, thinking he made a very cute mother hen. Frustrating, or not, Nina loved the way he seemed to always be thinking of her welfare. She didn't completely understand it, but it still made her feel good.
She thought their relationship was certainly different -- defined, specified, and agreed to in writing. It made him her legal guardian. They both understood that the contract was symbolic, and that it was a personal agreement, not legally binding. That did not make it any less real, practically speaking. His rules were law. If broken, he would be judge, jury, and executioner. Nina could live with such conditions because a trust had been built through several months of correspondence. Her fantasies had often involved her being stripped of control, her will broken, another's imposed, but they had found what they considered a healthier expression for those desires. She accepted that he did not want to control her for his benefit. His rules were based on her own ambitions. Punishments were his design, but based on the intimate knowledge he possessed about his 28-year-old charge.
The problem: it wasn't enough. If she could rewrite the contract, she would add another clause -- the "Just Because..." clause. As in, "Just because it's Sunday". She needed a "Just-because-she-has-nothing-on-under-her-jeans-and-top" spanking.
He was seated across from her again and looked up from his paper he had started reading. She had been tapping her pencil on her crossword, mind elsewhere.
"Tough one today?"
"Oh...yes. I hate the Sunday ones." She smiled self-consciously. He gave her a grin ...or, how about a just because he has beautiful eyes spanking?
She was still stumped. She thought about "bratting", a kind of game she had learned about online. She could, perhaps, tease, torment, and defy him. Maybe, for breakfast, she would just have a king-size Three Musketeers bar and, with the chocolate still on her lips, tell him she would be having another one for lunch. What if, before he got up this morning, she had just accidentally put his Sports section in the dishwasher and run it through a quick rinse cycle? The fun was seeing how far it could go before its inevitable dramatic ending - a spoiled brat getting her so richly deserved comeuppance. Yes, she had to admit it excited her, but it just wouldn't work. It didn't fit the nature of their relationship.
She crossed and uncrossed her legs...accidentally kicked his shin...apologized. She got another grin ...a strong, masculine face, his paper held with long fingers. She thought of that electric April night ...those hands. She crossed and uncrossed her legs again and imagined ...under the table, up his leg, bare foot in his lap ...pressing the issue. A boyfriend from her Fort Collins days: he told her she had the prettiest feet. She would get him off ...soft soles on his hard cock...perfect round toes, teasing...squeezing... and if her Guardian didn't like it, if he thought she was being too forward...too naughty...then, certainly, he was one man who knew exactly what to do about it.
Not going to happen. He simply wasn't interested. She knew he had moved to Denver from New York over two years ago after his drop-dead gorgeous fiancé had left him ...get over it, guy; time to move on. It was in the contract and made perfectly clear from their first emails: There would be no sexual relationship. She had found that acceptable...was not certain she was ready for that kind of involvement.
Dan folded his paper and started to gather up table items to take to the sink. She followed him over with her cup in hand.
"I'll clean up, Nina... I have to run down to Colorado Springs this afternoon." Thought I heard the phone ring this morning. "Sandi can't make it. There's a truckload of furniture coming for the new office, and I need to open and lock up after."
The Springs were about an hour's drive. He told her he'd probably not be back until late afternoon. She was a little disappointed, but figured she would be at her computer all afternoon, anyway. Making her way into the living room, she stretched out on the couch. Head propped up against the thickly upholstered arm, she mused. She was thinking of writing a new story - a real-life account. She had never intentionally tried to earn a spanking, but she had come by one honestly ...not so long ago, relived so many times...
* * * * * * *
It had been a surprisingly warm evening in April. Before heading home from work, she decided to stop at an upscale little pub along the 16th Street Mall downtown. Jackson's Tavern was her favorite hangout and only a few blocks from the office. It had been a hot day for that date, and Nina didn't even need a sweater. She enjoyed the stroll down the pretty tree-lined thoroughfare that blocked access to the ubiquitous automobile. The many-colored lights from street lamps and neon were already replacing the light of day and bedecking the long stretch of shops, restaurants, art galleries, clubs, and all things that might attract tourists to opulent commerce or the Denver night life. The street that runs the length of the outdoor mall is a median normally active with pedestrians and with free shuttle buses running busy and efficient to help move the cash flow. It was the middle of the week, and the crowds were thin.
Sue Mitchell was already seated at the bar sipping at a Grasshopper. It was comfortable seeing her friend from work, though Nina already spotted a few other familiar faces, as well.
"Ooh, I want one of those," Nina exclaimed in the charmingly understated voice that all of her co-workers would have recognized.
Sue's face lit up. "Only one?" She rose and the two girls hugged. They had been drinking buddies since they met. "I'm already on number two," Sue announced.
She really didn't know what a tavern was supposed to look like, but she appreciated the fact that Jackson's, with its high ceilings and ample lighting, felt open and friendly, but not intimate. It was polished yet unpretentious. She didn't like dark little bars where you were suffocated by your fellow drinkers, but preferred a diffuse setting where friends and acquaintances could mingle casually and strangers could be avoided if necessary.
She really did intend to have just one. She nursed her drink slowly as the regular gang came and went, sharing heartfelt greetings, gossip, and the latest jokes you'd never tell Mom. As the alcohol level rose, the flirting became more overt, and Rick I-forget-his-last-name began to ply her with more aggressive advances. She loved the attention but gave him no concrete encouragement.
She heard a cheer. The baseball season was just getting under way and the game was being shown on several monitors. One cannot make a habit of the bar scene in Denver and not become a fan of local sports. Nina rooted for the Colorado Rockies baseball team, and she and Dan had just caught a game at Coors Field. The hated Dodgers were in town the next week and the two already had their tickets.
She checked her watch. It was a little after nine. If she got to the Metro-Link by ten, she could easily make it home by eleven, her weekday curfew.
"I've noticed you don't hang around much anymore." Rick had noticed her checking the time.
"Yeah, us working girls need our beauty sleep."
"So, that explains why you're so beautiful," his hand on her knee.
Nina giggled. Please ...guys will say anything, she thought, but said, "You're so sweet," and gave him her genuine demure smile. "Really, though, I can't afford to be late for work anymore."
"She's been such a good girl lately," Sue slurred, holding a mostly downed Screwdriver. "I think she wants to be president of the fucking company."
"Yeah," Nina snorted, "and my first order of business will be to fire your sorry ass."
Rick and Sue looked momentarily startled, saw the grin on Nina's innocent face, then broke out laughing. She realized they had never heard anything quite so acerbic coming from shy, soft-spoken Nina, even with a little vodka loosening her tongue.
She decided that one more drink couldn't hurt. She was taking the train home, anyway. The house on Clairmont was only two miles from the station, and she often parked her car and rode the Light Rail to work and back. The Ten-thirty would still get her back by eleven.
By the time she had nursed the second drink, Rick had pulled a stool up very close, and his hands had touched Nina almost everywhere that might hold up in court. She had started to consider revealing some overt approval. He is kind of a sweet-talker. She had not been with a man in longer than she cared to admit. He was playing with the little drawstring under her chin that closed the bodice of her dress when she noticed the watch on his wrist. She grabbed his arm, twisted it, and had a watery feeling. It was 10:54 PM.
The Light Rail station was over a block away. She walked at a brisk pace. I'm not going to run, damn it! She ran the last half block. She saw the train pulling out, heading west before it would turn south.
Shit! She looked at her watch. She'd have to wait thirty minutes for the next train. The idea of calling a taxi occurred to her, but she wasn't sure that would be any faster. She reached into her purse for her cell phone, then stopped. No... She still held on to a hope that would be dashed if Dan answered the phone. He often worked late in his office at home. There was always the chance that he would not have noticed the time. If she could sneak in the house, into her room, she would look just like the innocent angel she was. If he caught her... well, she was toast. She had come home twenty minutes late last week without even noticing it. There had been a conversation at the breakfast table the next morning about getting into old bad habits ...blah, blah, blah. She had assured him that it was just an aberration.
She found a place to sit and sighed with a faraway look in her eyes. The slatted bench was hard, her attention drawn to the thin material of the dress she had worn to work that day. She played with her hands, shifted her weight, looked at her watch, and folded her arms. She let out a nervous little laugh.
Nina, what are you putting yourself through here? Look at me. I'm a grown woman ...no, you've been bad, and when you get home you're gonna get it good.
She played with her hands, shifted her weight, looked at her watch, and folded her arms. The air was still comfortable, but this time she hugged herself a little tighter. She didn't know if she was ready for this. Emailing fantasies is not the same as being faced with it. Since she had moved in with Dan in March, she had followed his rules, too aware of possible consequences to dare a lapse. While the idea of a spanking from Dan was almost unbearably exciting, she didn't have the courage. Aside from the nervousness about how much it might hurt, she had serious second thoughts about whether she really wanted to expose that degree of vulnerability to him. She needed to be that little girl, but she also wanted to be a woman in his eyes. She knew she was crazy to think it, but she recognized her desire was to be everything to him. Could he spank her and still respect her? It was all new to her.
A man walked by and, to her relief, sat on another bench several yards beyond. As she waited the tension continued to build within her. Time crawled, and each minute she was tempted to just give in, call Dan, apologize profusely, tell him she would be home as fast as possible, and then just pray he left it at that. Her stomach was in knots, and she cursed the city for not providing more public transportation. Several other commuters had gathered around her when she finally heard the sound for which she had been waiting so desperately. The next train pulled in a few minutes early. She jumped up from the bench feeling a discharge of stress that was almost sexual. Hallelujah. Sweet Jesus. Now get this fucker moving. She was going to be at least an hour late.
The train would take her through older areas on the west side of the city as it made its way south. Out her window to her right, Nina looked for distraction ...no use getting all worked up about this. As the train left the newly renovated downtown area, she noticed the contrast between cheery-but-understated facades of economic stimulus and bleak industrial parks exposed by their stark yellow floodlights. Headed south, rundown housing tracts came into view -- dark neighborhoods separated by darker shadows. She had taken the train plenty of times before, but she'd never really noticed how the city seemed to get darker the further south you went ...okay, not such a good omen.
The train made a quick stop, then once again continued on its way, toiling under its repetitive persistent task to move people from the suburbs to the city or vice versa. She almost jumped out of her skin. A freight train was passing going north. There were stretches where the Light Rail paralleled old railroad tracks that were laid down long ago when Denver was a little mining town. The sudden loud rush of sound had startled her. Just what I needed. Another maddening stop and her mouth felt dry. Absent-mindedly, she began to tap her knee with her fingers, then checked her watch.
On her right the old Santa Fe business district came into view where most people no longer did much business. A sparse lineup of cheap bars and strip clubs flashed by ignominiously, and she recognized the adult books & video store that looked big enough to supply every flesh-fantasy connoisseur in the entire western United States. Wonder if they have any good spanking videos? Her attention was again drawn to the south -- where she sat, and where she was headed. The end of the line was near.
As soon as her train came to a stop, Nina was out of her seat and rushing to her car. She had fished her keys out of her purse several minutes ago, an indication that the Grasshoppers at least were not dulling her thinking. In fact, she was as sober as a saint. She made the short drive, forcing herself to stick reasonably close to the speed limits posted. She turned onto Clairmont Avenue. Shutting her engine off before she had even come to a complete stop, she rolled into a spot along the curb that was actually closer to the house next door. Little Nina, full of stealth.
She figured that by turning the key to the front door very slowly, and by tiny increments, she would make no noise. It worked well enough, so she tried a similar tactic to open the door. Again, acceptable. She peeked in to a dark foyer, then made her way towards her bedroom, deciding she could hold her breath until she was safely in her bed. She couldn't stop the ponderous thud in her chest or the shiver up her spine. "Nina?"
She yelped and spun around. They stood facing each other for several moments. He had his arms crossed. She recognized a no-nonsense look on his face. She felt faint and shivered again.
"Did you have a nice evening?" He sounded calm and not menacing. It didn't stop her quivering.
"I know, I really messed up." She felt the flush on her face.
"I think we have some business to attend to." He didn't sound like he had any doubts about it.
"Yes, Sir," she croaked softly, expelling what little air she had. "I'm sorry," her voice sweet and high. She had already entered "child space". Her Guardian would now take care of everything. He was holding her hand, leading... an angel would, indeed, be going directly to her bedroom. She found herself in the middle of a real-life spanking. It would be administered with a cool formality, her Guardian as composed as she was distressed. Seated on the edge of her bed, he had pulled Nina across his lap and she lay submissively, her face still flushed, breathing more audible. She had been bad, and now was going to be punished - the simple drama that intrigued her complex mind. She felt utterly helpless and at the mercy of her disciplinarian, eyes misting with nervous emotion but not the only place where she was dampening. A potent mix of embarrassment and anticipation raged through her like a fever. He spanked her bottom with the hard palm of his large hand, and her tight little dress provided her virtually no protection, only acted to trap some of the heat. He created a lot of heat...and precisely where she had needed it for a very long time. The measured slaps imposed on her upturned behind felt like punishment, making her twist, squirm, and finally kick, but she was certain that, if it had lasted much longer, she would have had the most sublime release right there on his lap.
When it was over she sat on his knee and they talked. As she indicated her agreements and offered her promises, she studied his deep brown eyes, and watched the movement of his beautiful mouth. She appreciated the fact that he aimed to discuss and explain and not to shame her further, but sitting on her arousing little furnace, she needed something more than talk. If he was through with her, she would just as soon he go in another room for awhile so she could be alone.
* * * * * * *
It was not the ending that she would have written, but she thought her nerve-wracking experience might make an interesting story. She got up from the couch and went to her room. She turned her computer on knowing she spent too much time in front of it at the expense of important responsibilities and possible opportunities. Her new life was better, for sure; the sickness in her heart was in remission, but her newfound enthusiasm lacked direction. As she opened her web browser, somehow she knew; she was setting herself up for a fall.