Read Online Body Politics by Cara Bristol - Free Book Online

and especially to Liz.”
    She already regretted her behavior with Elizabeth. Chalk it up to the potency of the Bottom Burner, the stress of dealing with Bethany’s passive-aggressive shenanigans, and the shock of finding out the truth about Mark— she’d overreacted. But she wasn’t going to admit that to him. Not now.
    “I was blindsided,” she said.
    “I understand why you see it that way, but the fact is, I deliberately made an effort to be very open and honest with you from the start. I brought you to Rod and Cane so you would know the kind of man I am and what I expect. That’s why I’m going to be very blunt right now. Our relationship will be a domestic discipline one.”
    Stephanie snorted. “It astounds me that you would assume we would have any relationship, let alone a domestic discipline one!”
    “Denial doesn’t make it any less so. We’ve gone out twice. And you came back to my condo with me. We’ve started something, Stephanie. And because the beginning sets the precedent for the rest of the relationship, I’m asking for your permission to spank you tonight.”
    His audacity, his unrepentant sexism caused her jaw to drop, while quivery, almost sexual warmth kindled down low and spread. She pictured herself laid out over his lap as he smacked her bottom, and her knees started to shake. Something crazy deep inside whispered for her to submit. It was akin to staring down a precipice and wondering what it would be like to jump. She tried to pull away from him, but he maintained his hold. “Spank me, my ass!” she whipped out.
    Amusement lent a slight curve to his lips. “Generally that’s how it occurs, although on occasion I may administer a few smacks to your pussy.”
    A strong spasm shuddered through the body part he’d mentioned. “The hell you will.” She yanked hard and freed her hand, but her victory was hollow. She suspected she’d gotten away only because he’d allowed it.
    “You should know that swearing will get you spanked—unless, of course, what you’re yelling is, ‘Fuck me, harder.’”
    She wondered how he felt about a face slap. No, she didn’t. She knew. Her butt muscles tightened.
    “You’re entitled to your emotions and should express your feelings, but I expect respect.”
    She ignored the wetness between her legs, the tightness of her beaded nipples. “You’re insane.” She was insane. Why was her body reacting to his outrageous pronouncement with arousal instead of anger? She should be charging out of his condo like a cat with its tail on fire. She clapped a hand over her mouth to smother a choke of laughter. That was what he wanted to do to her: set her tail on fire.
    “Are you afraid you can’t tolerate a spanking?”
    “I can handle anything you mete out.” She glared at him. “I just don’t believe you.”
    “What don’t you believe?”
    “Your absurd assumption that I would go along with this. What gives you the idea a feminist would allow a man to spank her?”
    “I don’t assume anything,” he said. “That’s why we’re discussing this. As for why you would allow it, well, whether you like it or not, you’re a natural submissive. I see it in your eyes, in the way you carry yourself, in your body’s responses to me.”
    Her hard nipples ached. She resisted the urge to glance at her chest. The vest was wool, thank goodness. “You don’t see anything!” she said, hoping it was true. He did turn her on, but it was in spite of his domineering ways, not because of them. Wasn’t it?
    “You protest like being submissive is a bad thing. It’s neither good nor bad; it’s neutral—like being introverted or extroverted, gregarious or serious. Masculine or feminine. But fighting against your nature requires you swim against the current. How long can you maintain that before you deplete your energy?”
    Was that why she was so tired all the time? Why some days she felt like the world demanded more than she had to give? Ridiculous. She