Resolutions Inc, II By Fiona Wilde Copyright 2011 Blushing Books Publications and Fiona Wilde
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Resolutions Inc, II By Fiona Wilde Copyright 2011 Blushing Books Publications and Fiona Wilde
Copyright © 2011 by Blushing Books® and Fiona Wilde. All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Published by Blushing Books®, a subsidiary of ABCD Graphics and Design 977 Seminole Trail #233 Charlottesville, VA 22901 The trademark Blushing Books® is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office. Wilde, Fiona Resolutions, Inc. II eBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-442-6 Cover Design: ABCD Graphics
Blushing Publications thanks you whole-heartedly for your purchase with us! There are plenty more stories such as the one you’ve purchased from Blushing Books! Visit our online store to view our mighty selection! http://www.blushingbooks.com This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Ladies, are you sick of seeing your New Years Resolutions broken before January is even over? Are you desperate to stick to your plan to shed weight, curb excess shopping, stop procrastinating or quit smoking? If you can’t do it alone then let one of our Resolutions, Inc. team members help. Our professionals are dedicated, ready and willing to assist you in kicking those bad habits for good. Success guaranteed. For more information call 555-433-9762.
Chapter One Weed Killer “You know, if they piss test you then you’re going to lose your job.” Gretchen half giggled, half choked out the statement as she cracked the window behind the couch where she sat with Sadie, who was pulling hard on the pipe. The tightly packed wad of glowing Kush hissed and crinkled in the bowl as Sadie inhaled. She threw her head back and held her breath as long as she could before exhaling in a spurt of coughs. “Damn,” she said, handing the pipe to Gretchen. “That is good shit. As far as my job, I’m off today.” “It’ll show up in your pee for over a month, Sadie,” Gretchen reminded her. “Like I’m worried,” Sadie replied. “Jake’s never randomly tested us like he’s supposed to. I think it’s because he probably keeps his own stash at home.” “Not as good as Ice,” Gretchen said. “And if we’re lucky…” Sadie sat up, bleary eyes opening wide. “You mean Ace can get us some of that?” Gretchen smiled dreamily. “He thinks so!” “Oh, god, that stuff is killer,” Sadie said, remembering her first experience with what her friend had called the Champagne of Weed. She felt her stomach growl. Doritos; she needed Doritos. Hauling herself off the sofa, she went into the little kitchen and began to tear through the cabinet of snack food they kept on hand for just such occasions. Twinkies, Cheez-Its, Count Chocula cereal to be eaten directly from the box and in the back - there they were. Sadie ripped open the bag and helped herself as her friend scoffed from across the room. “You are a lucky bitch,” Gretchen said, stretching. “You get the munchies worse than anyone I know and yet you never gain an ounce.”
Sadie shrugged. “Lucky, I guess.” “Yeah,” Gretchen said, frowning at her well-padded thighs. “You can say that again.” “Lucky,” Sadie repeated and dissolved into fits of giggles over something that would have otherwise been merely annoying. But her friend was right. Sadie was blessed by the kind of metabolism that other women envied. She could eat anything she wanted and still keep a firm body. Her best asset, she’d been told, was a very enviable ass. Toned and unmistakably feminine from any angle, Sadie was one of the rare women who could pull off keeping her hair bobbed in a short cut without looking at all butch. Everyone flirted with her - males, females - and Gretchen teased that if she weren’t careful all the attention might go to her head. But the only thing that regularly went to her head - and the head of her roommate - was good old THC. Sadie had started out as a recreational pot user and still considered herself that, but in the mornings when she looked in the mirror she couldn’t help but admit the truth; she was becoming a stoner. And Sadie knew she was lucky to work for a young guy like Jake who looked just as baked as she was on some days. Although ChemCom required regular and random drug tests, Jake Wheatley had yet to subject them to even one in the two years he’d overseen their small regional office. “Want some soda?” Gretchen was up now, sifting through the contents of the fridge looking for a liquid sugar fix. Sadie was about to say ‘yes,’ when the phone rang. She debated answering it, knowing it was probably her mom. But when she looked on the caller ID and saw “Wheeler, K.” she picked it up. “Hi Karen!” she said. “Hey, Sadie.” Sadie knew from her co-worker’s voice that something was wrong. “Everything O.K?” “Are you sitting down?” Karen asked. Sadie walked to the sofa and flopped down. Usually if someone told you that you needed to be sitting down, it was best to sit down. And as dizzy as she was feeling the advice went double. “What?” she asked. “I’m sitting.” “Jake got arrested last night.” Sadie tried to let the words sink through the Kush-induced haze.
“Come again?” “Arrested.” It still didn’t register. Jake was the most happy-go-lucky guy she knew. The idea of him committing a crime… “For what?” “D.U.I. They caught him at a roadblock Friday night after Jerry’s New Year’s Eve party.” As the news floated in on slight delay, Sadie breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, is that all. God, you scared me. I thought he’d knocked over a convenience store or something. A D.U.I. sucks but it isn’t the end of the world.” “No,” Karen said, her voice flat. “But it is the end of Jake’s job. Remember, ChemCom has a no tolerance policy on drugs and alcohol. Martin told me this morning that someone from corporate has already called Jake and told him he’s out.” “Shit.” Sadie sat back on the couch. “I hate that. Jake is like….the coolest boss I’ve ever had.” “Yeah, he is…was,” Karen agreed. “And also the most lenient.” “Who are they bringing in to replace him?” “Dunno,” Karen replied. “But I’m sure it’s not anyone as cool as Jake.” She paused. “Look, I gotta go. I just wanted to call and warn you because, well, I know how you like to party. And we all know that Jake liked to party, too. That’s why he never tested us. But that’s probably going to change now, especially if they bring in some company man who’s all hot to climb the corporate ladder. He or she is going to be playing by the book and I don’t know about you but I need my job. So from here on out my partying days are behind me.” “Yeah, mine too,” Sadie agreed. “See you at work tomorrow,” Karen said, and hung up. “What’s wrong?” Gretchen was looking concerned. Her concerned look grew as Sadie filled her in. “Damn,” she said. “That sucks.”
“Yep.” Sadie put her head back on the couch. She was still too high to completely care so she put the whole thing out of her mind. There would be plenty of time to deal with it, but not as buzzed as she was. ******* When the alarm clock went off at six the next morning it felt like a jackhammer. Sadie rolled over, looked at the digital display and told herself this was the first day of a new life without pot. After she’d slowly come out of her previous night’s haze, she’d thought about her job. It had taken her months to land it; environmental studies and biology had been her double majors and she’d thought there’d be plenty of jobs to be had when she graduated, but they had been scarce. For eight months she’d pounded the pavement, feeling desolate and desperate until she found the tech position at ChemCom. She’d taken all the entry exams and had even passed the drug test. At the time that wasn’t hard because there had been no money for a beer, let alone weed. She’d never forgotten how depressed she’d felt when she’d been looking for work, nor how insecure. Sadie never wanted to feel that way again. She flipped on the television on the way to the bathroom on the other side of the living room. The morning jobless rates did nothing to lift her mood. “..and the average time it takes to find a new job is now thirty-four weeks,” an analyst was saying. Sadie turned on the bathroom light and blinked at her reflection in the mirror. She looked like a stoner, her red-eyes a clue to anyone around her that she was still slightly buzzed. Sadie knew no amount of Visine would fix this. She’d have to call in. That alone was upsetting; someone from corporate would be down to break the news about their new boss and she would not even be there to hear it. She went to the phone and dialed Jake’s number but realized he wouldn’t get the message. She’d have to wait until someone came in to answer his line. The next two hours crawled by. At five past eight she made the call. An unfamiliar voice answered. “ChemCom, Region Five branch. This is Derek speaking, may I help you?” She didn’t know a Derek and decided to play stupid. “I’m looking for Jake Patterson?” “I’m sorry; he’s no longer employed at this location. Can I help you?” “Um, this is Sadie Ashton. I’m a tech there. And, um, I was calling in to tell Jake I’d be out of work today…” “This is a bad day to be out of work, Miss.Ashton,” he said. “I don’t know if you’re aware yet, but Mr. Patterson is being replaced.”
“I..I kind of heard something about that,” Sadie said. “And I want to be there but I think I’m coming down with the flu or something.” There was an uncomfortable pause. “Well, these things happen,” the voice on the end of the line said. “How long do you think you’ll be out?” Sadie recalled her reflection. Her eyes had looked even redder than usual. “Couple of days and I think I’ll be better,” she lied. “My sister had the same thing and she was sick for two or three days.” “Well keep us posted,” he said. “Look forward to meeting you in person later this week.” Sadie hung up. Two days, three at the most if she could stretch it. Two or three days to find a way to clean herself up and she’d be OK. Unless, of course, they piss-tested everyone this week. Would they? She worried that they might, given Jake’s arrest. If that happened, it was game over. But until it did she needed to find a way to get clean. And fast. Gretchen would have to stop smoking in the apartment, period. Even secondhand pot smoke would show on a test. The smell of pot hung in their living room, clung to the fabric. It made Sadie want a joint; badly. For the first time, she admitted she just may have a problem. But even if she did, she didn’t want to enter any kind of treatment program. Crestwood was a small town. The only drug rehab facility was right on Dover Street, the town’s main drag. She couldn’t see driving to the next largest city; it was an hour away and besides, those things weren’t free and it’s not like she could file it on her insurance. The unread Sunday paper lay on the coffee table amid empty chip bags and Twinkie wrappers. Sadie picked it up and began to leaf through the ad section. Perhaps there was another treatment center close by she’d never heard of. None were listed, but in the middle of the section for services, an unusual ad caught her eye: Ladies, are you sick of seeing your New Years Resolutions broken before January is even over? Are you desperate to stick to your plan to shed weight, curb excess shopping, stop procrastinating or quit smoking? If you can’t do it alone then let one of our Resolutions, Inc. team members help. Our professionals are dedicated, ready and willing to assist you in kicking those bad habits for good. Success guaranteed. For more information call 555-433-9762. It sounded hokey, like a moneymaking scam. But the words “success guaranteed” stuck out to her. Sadie ran her finger over the number. It wouldn’t hurt to call, she thought. She considered herself pretty perceptive. If there was something sketchy about what this Resolutions, Inc. place was offering, she’d know.
She dialed the number, craning her neck around the corner as she did to make sure Gretchen was still sleeping. For some reason she could not fathom, Sadie felt ashamed. Perhaps it was because she had not wanted to admit that her pot smoking had gotten out of hand. Perhaps it was because she knew if she did she’d have to make some changes and some of her friends - even friends like Gretchen - would leave her. Sadie had never wanted to admit it, but aside from their love of grass, she and her roommate had little in common. Sadie was straight, Gretchen was a lesbian. Sadie liked rock, Gretchen liked emo music. Sadie had a career; Gretchen worked in a tattoo parlor. Sadie had found her through a posting on the community bulletin board at the local food co-op and while they’d never had an ill word, they weren’t exactly buddies either. Their entire social interaction involved smoking weed. How successful would Sadie be asking Gretchen to take her habit outside or somewhere else? And if Gretchen left, where would she find a roommate to help pay for a loft she could ill afford? These questions ran through her mind as the phone rang. She was about to hang up when she heard a male voice answer. “Resolutions, Inc. Ross Klein speaking.” She hesitated. The man’s voice was deep. She imagined a serious-looking guy in a suit and sunglasses for some reason. “H-hi,” she said. “I saw your ad and was wondering, um, how you guys worked.” “How we work?” he asked. “I assume you mean our methods?” “Yeah, exactly,” she said. “We don’t divulge our methods, Miss…” “Ashton,” she said. “My name’s Sadie Ashton.” “Well, we don’t divulge our methods until the program’s underway. We simply guarantee results and after three years in business we’ve never failed.” Sadie scowled. “How can you not discuss methods? I mean, you don’t even know which habit I want to break.” “Doesn’t matter,” the man replied. “Our methods work for whatever habit you’re trying to break. And if they don’t you get your money back.” “But you won’t tell me your methods?” she pressed. “No,” he said. “They are a trade secret.”
Sadie felt herself getting irritated. “It can’t be too much of a secret, right? I mean, if I really wanted to find out then I could just track down one of your former clients and…” “Wouldn’t do you any good”, he interrupted. “Oh really… And why not?” she insisted. “Because our clients sign a confidentiality waiver as soon as they walk in the door. Divulging our practices and methods will result in a big fat lawsuit. Women who come here seeking help with problems are usually smart enough to avoid future ones.” He sighed, sounding impatient. “But I’ve got more pressing things to do than argue with you, Ms. Ashton. So if you don’t mind…” “Wait!” Sadie’s voice sounded hasty, even to her. Part of her, the defiant part, wanted to hang up on this arrogant sounding man. But he sounded so sure of himself, so confident. And she could not risk going into rehab.” “What time can I come by and talk to you?” she asked. “Hold on,” he said. She heard tapping and assumed he was checking an online schedule. “Can you be here at two?” “Yes,” she said. “What’s the address?” “1634 Mulholland Drive,” he said. Sadie repeated the address to him as she scribbled it down. Then she hung up. She was tearing the address off the notepad when Gretchen walked into the room. “Hey, who was on the phone?” Her roommate ran her fingers through the tangled mop of hair on her head. “Just...work stuff,” Sadie lied. Gretchen went to the refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice. Sadie bit her tongue as she watched her roommate swig directly from the carton. She’d bought that orange juice; did it not ever occur to Gretchen that she didn’t want to share her germs? But then she thought of the countless times they’d shared the same bong and decided she was just being sensitive. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Gretchen suddenly asked. “I called in,” Sadie said. “There’s some new guy filling in for Jake until they find a replacement. I can’t go in looking like I’m still stoned.”
“Speaking of which….” Gretchen reached into a cookie jar on the counter and pulled out a Ziploc bag and the pipe. “I don’t have to go to work until noon and since you’re not going to work, how ‘bout a quick buzz?” Sadie looked at her, irritated. “Do you not understand my situation, Gretchen?” she asked. “I could do this kind of stuff with Jake. I can’t anymore. Not with some new supervisor coming in!” Gretchen stood there and Sadie watched as the full impact of the words sunk into her roommate. It was like Gretchen’s hearing and reason were on some time delay. Sadie wondered if she looked like that to other people. “You mean not at all?” Gretchen asked quietly. “No, not as long as I work at ChemCom.” “That’s bullshit!” Gretchen said. “They can’t tell you what to do. Just find another job!” “Find another…?” Sadie put her fingers to her temples, exasperated. “It’s not that easy, Gretchen, and I’ve worked too hard to just take some position in a….” “What? A music store like me? Well excuse me, Miss-I’ve-Got-A-Fancy-FuckingDegree. Not everyone was born with a silver spoon in their mouth!” “Well neither was I!” Sadie shot back, getting to her feet now. “I busted my ass to get through school with no help from my folks. I’ve all but been on my own since I was fourteen so don’t you dare act like I’m the one who’s out of touch here. I simply want to make something of my life and I’m not about to blow just so I can smoke weed.” Gretchen’s face grew hard. “Suit yourself, princess,” she said snarkily. “It’ll just leave more for me.” She began to tap out the dried, burnt-out remains of their last smoke.” “And another thing,” Sadie said, softening her tone. “Since I can get this stuff in my system by breathing it when others are smoking I’m going to have to ask you to take it outside.” Gretchen pushed some weed into the bowl and packed it down. Her gaze was defiant as she looked at Sadie. “Well fuck that,” she said. “If that’s how you feel then just move out,” Sadie said her voice cool despite the hurt and anger that raged in her heart and head. “Because you aren’t going to be able to afford your share of the rent and buy pot, too; and if you recall who’s bought it since we moved in it’s been me.”
Gretchen glared at Sadie over the pipe which was now in her mouth. Sadie watched as her roommate lit the lighter above the bowl and inhaled, sucking the flame downward. Sadie took advantage of the moment to snatch the bag of weed off the counter. “Enjoy it,” she said to Gretchen. “It’s your last free smoke.”
Chapter Two Sadie was not the type of person to cry. It had never done her a whole lot of good because no one around her had never really cared to comfort her. An absent father and completely self-absorbed mother had guaranteed a shorter-than-average childhood. Sadie had - in a lot of ways - been her own parent. She’d not been lying to Gretchen when she’d said she’d fought hard to make a better life for herself; she had. And Sadie couldn’t afford any setbacks. For all of Gretchen’s insults, she - at least - had family to fall back on, which she frequently did. Sadie had no one and as she stood in the shower she was forced to admit something else that it was that desire for family, for closeness, that had gotten her into pot in the first place. As independent as she was, Sadie wanted to fit in somewhere. She just didn’t know where. The stoner friends she’d met through Gretchen had been the first thing close to a family she’d had. Now that she was going to have to quit smoking pot, Sadie realized that she’d lose them just like she was losing Gretchen. She didn’t come out of the bathroom until she heard the front door open and close, signaling her roommate’s departure. It was nearly noon and Sadie spent the next hour and a half tidying up the place - something else Gretchen never bothered to do. By 1:30 she was out the door and on her way to Resolutions, Inc. Traffic was unusually bad for the middle of the afternoon. Sadie’s buzz had worn completely off and she felt herself growing tense and irritable as the cars in front of her lurched and honked. She craned her neck enough to see an accident up the road - nothing major, just a fender bender - but she knew it would make her late. She laid on the horn, hoping the wrecker would clear the road faster. Beside her, a man in a gray Volvo honked his horn and glared, obviously impatient with her impatience. She honked back and flipped him the bird. He frowned at her, his expression hard. He reminded her of Mr. Carroll, her middle school principal. Only he was a lot more handsome that Mr. Carroll. Sadie flipped him off again. If she wanted to be impatient, she’d be impatient. It wasn’t any stranger’s fucking business. The wrecker was clearing the road now and she weaved over without warning, cutting the Volvo driver off. She flipped him the bird once more for good measure, smirking at his disapproving expression in her rearview mirror. The traffic was moving at its normal pace as she headed towards Mulholland. Sadie took the slip of paper out of her hoodie and repeated the address to herself until she found the nondescript brick building that matched the street number. She pulled in. Hers was the only car. A plaque by the front door simply read, “Resolutions, Inc.” Sadie knocked on the door. When there was no answer she turned the knob. “Hello?” She didn’t see a secretary or desk, just a waiting room with a plaid sofa, a coffee table, a lamp and a bookshelf.
“Hello!” She called out again, her irritation coming back when she realized she may have come all the way across town for nothing. She felt tense and tight. God, she wanted a joint so bad. Sadie flopped down on the sofa and closed her eyes, imagining the burning sweetness of the smoke filling her lungs, the haze lifting her cares away, or at least obscuring them. Maybe Gretchen was right. Maybe she should find another job. She heard a car door slam and sat up. A moment later the front door opened. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I got a bit delayed in traffic on my way back to the office. You must be Sadie Ashton.” He extended his hand. Sadie’s eyes widened as she timidly accepted his handshake. Did this man really not recognize her? She recognized him immediately. It was the same man she’d cut off in traffic just moments earlier. “You’re Mr. Klein?” she asked. “Yes,” he said. “And given that I’m late let’s just go back into my office and talk about your situation, shall we?” Sadie allowed herself a sigh of relief. He must not have gotten a good look at her. She followed him down the narrow hallway and into a small office. It was very basic - a desk a chair in front of the desk for visitors. Behind the desk against the wall was a table holding a printer and a fax machine. There were diplomas above the table. Ross Klein had two degrees in psychology. “Are you a psychologist?” she asked. “Yes,” he said. “Why doesn’t it say that on the ad?” “Because my methods would be considered unorthodox by the professional community,” he said. “Too complex for them to understand?” Sadie asked sarcastically. “No,” Ross replied. “Too simple.” He sat down behind the desk and beckoned for her to take the chair across from him, which she did. “So what brings you here, Miss Ashton?” “I’m smoking too much pot,” she said. “I need to quit.”
He studied her. “Hmm… and you didn’t opt for a treatment center?” “It’s not that bad….well, it is that bad. But I can’t risk losing my job and I can’t risk having someone from my workplace seeing me going into the treatment center. I worked really hard to get my job. I don’t want to lose it.” “Hmm,” he said again. “So they don’t drug test where you work?” She sighed. “Well, we had a pretty lax supervisor but he just got fired for getting a DUI. They’re bringing someone else in and it’s just a matter of time…” “And you can’t stop on your own?” he asked. “This is a crucial question, Ms. Ashton. I want you to really think about it long and hard. Is this something you’re strong enough to kick without guidance?” Sadie looked down. She’d never wanted to admit this to herself, let alone anyone else. But if there was a program or a pill this man could offer her - even something new and experimental - if it would work she needed it. And fast. “No,” she said. “I can’t. That’s why I’m here. I just need to know how much this program costs.” “Nothing until it’s over,” he said. “Then you pay based on your income. Now that you’re a client…” “Wait a minute,” she said. “I didn’t agree to be a client.” “I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” he said and stood up. Sadie got an uncomfortable feeling as he came towards her chair “Hey! What are you…” she began, thinking he meant to grab her. But instead Ross snatched up the purse sitting in her lap. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she asked when he turned back to his desk. He rounded on her. “Miss Ashton, sit DOWN! NOW!” Sadie jumped, startled, and reflexively dropped back to her chair. Her heart pounded in her chest. What the hell had she gotten herself into? Was this guy crazy? She watched as he dumped the contents on the desk - wallet, pens, car keys, a Zip-Loc bag…. He picked it up and held it out. “I thought you were serious about quitting…” he said.
“Obviously,” she said. “Or else I wouldn’t…” “I thought you wanted to keep your job,” he interrupted. “Look, asshole,” she said, stepping forward. “Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking threeyear-old! If I wasn’t serious I wouldn’t have come here, now, would I? Although at this point it appears that I made a mistake since you’re acting like a complete jackass. So I’ll be leaving now.” She reached for the contents of her purse, but as she did Ross Klein grabbed her arm. “I’m sorry, Miss Ashton, but you’re not going anywhere,” he said. “The fuck if I’m not,” she said, pulling against him with all her strength. But Ross was far larger, and far stronger. As she resisted, he got to his feet and hauled her back to her chair. Sadie expected him to try and make her sit down again, so when he sat down she was surprised. Ross Klein kept his grip on Sadie while looking at her. “You are out of control, young lady,” he said. “I knew it when you flipped me off in traffic. You may not realize it, but you have a lot of anger and that can only mean one thing - you need boundaries, guidance and discipline. That’s what we provide here at Resolution, Inc. You wanted to find out about our methods? Well, you’re about to.” He threw her facedown over his lap. Sadie, her mind attempting to comprehend what was happening to her, began to struggle wildly. She kicked until he restrained her leg by trapping it with his own. She pounded his leg with her fists until he restrained her arms. She screamed, but realized when no one burst through the door that the Calvary was not coming to save her. When Ross’ hand descended hard on her bottom she shrieked like a steam whistle. Sadie had never been spanked in her life and her first experience was jarring. Ross’ hand was large and nearly covered the entire surface of her small bottom. A bloom of hot pain spread from the epicenter of the first blow, and before she could absorb it more came raining down in rapid, merciless succession. What started out as a string of threats and curses ensuing from Sadie’s indignant mouth soon dissolved into cries and sobs for mercy as Ross continue to dispense his own brand of therapy. “Are you going to stop cursing and listen to what I have to say?” he asked, his hand abandoning the stinging cheeks to work on the tops of her thighs. “I’ll listen! I’ll listen!” Sadie screamed, although in truth she’d have agreed to eat live frogs if it had meant an end to the punishment. For a young woman who’d never had so much as a toothache, a sudden dose of Real Pain was more than enough to earn some genuine compliance.
The spanking stopped and Ross tipped Sadie off his lap, steadying her as she wobbled on her feet. He reached behind her and yanked a tissue from the box on his desk. “Here,” he said. “Dry your eyes and blow your nose. And while you’re doing that keep your mouth shut and your ears open.” “Right now you’re probably thinking I’m a brute,” he said. “But the truth is the monster is right in here.” He tapped her chest. “You’ve got a problem, Miss Ashton, and since fear of losing your job isn’t enough I’m giving you something more tangible to be afraid of. I’m going to be watching you, and if I catch you even a little bit bleary eyed or suspect you’ve been smoking at all, I’m going to drag you right back here and spank you again. And I won’t go so easy on you next time.” “E-e-asy?” she asked, choking the word out through residual sobs. “Yes ma’am,” he said. “This time you got to keep your pants up.” “You’re crazy!” Sadie said, breaking into fresh sobs in spite of herself. “You’re crazy and you cannot be serious! You hit me!!” What the hell makes you think you can hit me?” His initial answer was a swat to her thigh. “No cursing,” he said. “And the answer is simple. You are my client and you are now in therapy.” “Oh yeah?” she asked. “Well guess where I’m going to be in about thirty minutes? The police station.” Ross sat back, folding his hands behind his head. He was infuriatingly calm. “Go ahead,” he said. “I happen to be on very good terms with some of the cops. In fact a couple of them are familiar with my methods and personally grateful that I was able to rehabilitate a certain young kleptomaniac a few months back.” He picked up the phone and handed it to her. “I’ll even dial 911 if you like. Of course, you’ll have to explain your little bag of pot there, and after I recommend they search your residence I have all ideas you’ll have a lot more to worry about than a sore backside…” Ross paused, allowing the words to sink in. Sadie fell silent and turned her back on him. She was shaking partly from shock and partly from anger. Was this really happening? She turned to him. “Why?” she asked. It was all she could think to say. “Because you need this, Miss Ashton; and deep down you know it. I can spot someone crying for limits a mile away. When I look at you I don’t see a stoner. I see a hardworking, decent person who’s been getting stoned. I see someone crying out for limits. And limits are what I’m going to give you until you can give them to yourself.”
He stood up and walked to the table behind his desk. Kneeling, he opened a cabinet and took out a plastic bag. Inside was a specimen cup. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Yes,” he said. And don’t argue or you’ll be back over my knee before you can say ‘reefer.’” With a resigned sigh, Sadie took the bag. “Hey,” he said gently when her eyes filled with fresh tears. “I have my own test kit. The results are for my eyes only, Miss Ashton, all right? I just want a baseline. That’s all. I’ll test you weekly until this is done. The bathroom is down the hall to your left.” He sat back down at the desk as if what had happened had not just happened and Sadie, not knowing what else to do, left the office and walked down the hall until she saw the door with a restroom sign on it. She opened it, went inside and then locked the door behind her. There was a narrow window along the top of the restroom and for a moment she thought about squeezing through, dropping to the ground and running for help. But that sort of thing only seemed to work well in spy movies. Besides, what would she say if she went to the police like she’d threatened? I want you arrest a man for spanking me? She wondered if what Ross Klein had said about the cops knowing was a bluff. He did not seem like the kind of guy who bluffed, which made her feel all the more hopeless. There was a floor length mirror behind the door. Sadie put the bag with the specimen cup on the counter by the sink and turned her back to the mirror. Her fingers were still shaking as she undid her jeans and - wincing - slid them down. It took some courage to look over her shoulder at her bottom. She wasn’t sure what she expected; hamburger meat, perhaps? It didn’t look that bad. There were obvious signs that she’d been spanked; the whole expanse of her backside was now pink, but it was fading rapidly even if the ache still remained. Sadie pulled up her pants but didn’t button them since she had to give a specimen. “Great,” when she was finished and screwing the lid on a cup containing a couple of ounces of her urine. She’d had her urine tested at the doctor’s before and it never bothered her, but the idea of giving the man who’d just spanked her a cup of her pee didn’t make her feel any better about the situation. “Are you done in there?” His voice was at the door. Sadie jumped so suddenly she nearly dropped the cup. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m just...finishing.” “You can just leave it on the counter,” he said.
“Um, thanks,” she replied. She’d been afraid that he’d be waiting for her outside the bathroom but the hallway was empty after she emerged. Sadie walked down to the office. Her purse was sitting on the chair with everything back inside except - she was sure - the bag of weed. “Here,” he said, handing her a business card. On it were two numbers. “The top one is for the office and the bottom one is my private number. If you need anything, if you feel tempted, think you can’t resist just call me. I’ll come get you and we can talk.” “You won’t spank me?” she asked. “Not for being tempted,” he said. “If you give in that’s a different story.” Sadie took the card. “Um, my roommate. She smokes; heavily.” “She’ll have to go,” Ross said. “Or you will.” “I can’t afford the apartment without her,” Sadie said. “It’s not a problem,” Ross replied. “That’s an excuse. What if you came home and found her strangling kittens. Would you tell yourself the same thing? Or would you kick her out.” Sadie thought it was a horrible analogy but didn’t say so. “I’d kick her out,” she replied quietly. “So that’s what you’re going to have to do. Kick her out. If you can’t make the rent I’ll spot you some cash until you find another roommate.” This took Sadie by surprise almost as much as the spanking had. She stared at him. “Why the he…Why would you do something like that?” “Because I told you,” he said. “We’re going to fix this. It’s just another part of my unorthodox methods. Now go home, Miss Ashton. I want to see you back here in three days.” “I-I’ll be a work,” she said. “Come afterwards,” he replied. “How does six o’clock sound?” Sadie nodded.
“See you then,” he said with a smile and walked her to the door. Sadie walked into the sunlight, blinked at the brightness and pinched herself. Had what just happened really happened? It was hard to believe, but it had. She’d gotten herself into what her grandmother used to call “a situation,” and the only way she could see out of it was to do exactly what Ross Klein of Resolutions, Inc. said.
Chapter Three Ross Klein peeked from between the slats of the blind and watched as Sadie Ashton unlocked her car and sat gingerly inside. She backed out carefully, and as she pulled away he concluded that no matter how bad traffic was on her way home that she’d unlikely flip anyone else off. That was one thing he’d gotten accomplished at least. Well, that and scaring the poor girl half to death. But her reaction had been far from uncommon. The women who’d come to Resolutions, Inc. since he opened his unconventional practice several years ago were never prepared for a spanking. They’d all arrived expecting the same namby-pamby, touchy-feely approach offered by other programs that focused on self-esteem and other gentle but largely non-effective approaches. Ross had started his business not just to make money, but to really make a difference. And even though it flew in the face of all the liberal instruction he’d gotten in college, he knew there was only one thing that could get an addict’s attention - Fear. Whether it was an addiction to food, shopping, drugs, gossip or smoking, self-destructive behavior was out of control behavior. His method was to get his clients’ attention through a good, hard spanking and once he’d established his dominance to let them know he was in their life until they kicked their habits. He was used to his clients threatening to call the police. One of them actually had - his second client, in fact. She’d been the niece of a local police chief and - like Sadie Ashton - had developed a pretty regular pot habit. She was terrified that her parents would find out since they told her if they ever caught her using drugs of any kind they’d pull her college funding. When she’d come in, Ross had spanked her. She’d cried, promised to mend her ways and then had gone straight to the police without thinking things through. Her uncle, a sergeant, had come by his office and when Ross told him what had happened he’d listened, nodded and smiled. “It’s about time,” he said. “If her parents had done that to her when she was still a kid maybe we wouldn’t have the problem we had now.” The girl had come back the next day, furious but subdued that her plan had not only failed, but backfired. Her uncle had told her he’d talked to Ross and had been impressed not just with his credentials but his philosophy. “Stick with it,” he’d warned her. “Or I’ll go to your parents myself.” It had not taken long for her to straighten out. Like Sadie, she’d never been spanked and a couple more trips over his knee was all it had taken to put her on the straight and narrow. She went on to graduate from college and had even sent Ross an invitation. He still saw
her around town, where she lived and worked as an administrative assistant in a law firm. She always smiled and wave, even though her face flushed slightly upon seeing him. Ross fully expected the same results with Sadie Ashton. Her defeating her demons would be another feather in his cap, another achievement. He learned something new with each client, another skill that made the service he offered better and more effective. Each woman who walked through the door taught him as much as he taught her. From Casey he’d learned the importance of patience. From Carla he’d learned that some women needed and longed for lifelong follow-through and should be taught to ask for it. And from Mary, well, from Mary he’d learned that you never fall in love with a client. Mary had come to him with weight issues and under his firm hand she had lost weight and gained a great deal of self-esteem and confidence. Ross had fallen for her and professed his affection for her on Valentine’s Day. It had been a happy time, but Mary had developed a love-hate relationship with spanking that complicated the relationship. She began to get jealous of Ross’ clients, even though he assured her that the he kept an emotional barrier between himself and them. “Like you did with me?” she asked sullenly. It was hard to convince her that he would not fall for another client, and eventually her insecurities resulted in the breakup of their relationship. After that, Ross vowed that he would never let a relationship with a client go beyond professional. In retrospect, he realized that falling for Mary had compromised his entire program. She’d fortunately been very mature about the break-up and they had parted on good terms. But had the parting been contentious she could have caused him a lot of headaches. Ross moved his thoughts away from Mary and onto his current situation. His current client, Sadie Ashton, seemed like a cut-and-dried case. She was his favorite kind of client; she had strong motivating factors outside of what he offered that made her want to change her ways. Sometimes clients came in who wanted to change, but the spankings he gave them were the only immediate, negative consequences. Smokers were the worst. But Sadie obviously feared losing her job and he hoped that the experience there would be short and productive. He’d looked in her wallet while she’d been in the bathroom and had made note of her address, phone number and any other personal information he could glean. He ran an online check of her name and found her Facebook page. It wasn’t set to private; and even though there were no incriminating pictures of her, he found references to her roommate and there were plenty of pictures of her partying. Ross made note to talk to Sadie about the kind of people she should and should not be associating with. Her drug test was not encouraging; Sadie had not lied about her pot use. It was obviously high. Ross foresaw her spending a lot of time over his knee if future results did not come back better.
The phone on Ross’ desk rang, jarring him from his thoughts. He recognized the number and picked it up. “Scott!” he said. “I was expecting you. My client just left so you can come right on over. I look forward to seeing you.” Ross hung up and walked to the waiting room so he could be ready to greet his visitor. This meeting marked a big day for him. It had taken a long time, but he was sure that this man was just the person he was looking for. “Why don’t we go to my office,” he said after shaking hands with Scott, who walked in and offered a strong handshake. He looked Scott right in the eye, his gaze confident but not cocky. Good. In the office they made small talk for a moment before Ross got down to business - the weather, sports, the university where they’d both earned psychology degrees. “I never opened this practice with the intention of taking on a partner,” Ross finally said. “It’s an unorthodox method, to say the least. That’s why I’ve been so careful to find someone who understands how I manage clients of Resolutions, Inc. It was almost by chance that I came across your paper on behavior modification. I have to say, it was brave of you to even mention the fact that in some cultures women are subjected to discipline by their husbands. It was even braver to state that between consenting adults such an arrangement might lead to a happier marriage.” Scott Grayson smiled. “Well, it would have been nice if everyone had received my paper as well as you did. I caught a lot of heat for it and I think it closed a lot of doors for me professionally.” “Well, it’s opened this one for you,” Ross said. “You know my philosophy and what I do. You’ve read the case histories. I enjoy a hundred percent success rate and I believe it’s because what I offer is what many women crave - a guiding hand, rigid boundaries and an authority figure who won’t be bullied or manipulated into giving in.” Scott nodded. “It sounds like you’re describing my wife,” he said. “She sensed in me right away someone who was all three of those things. And unlike some women, Meredith has always been completely honest with herself about just what she wants and needs.” Ross leaned forward and folded his hands on his desk in front of him. “You’re a lucky man, Scott. And she’s a lucky woman. But I have to admit - your marital status is the only thing that concerns me about your taking this position. I don’t want your job to come between you and your wife.”
“Let me put your mind at ease then,” Scott said. “Meredith is a very secure woman. Yes, she sees discipline as part of the emotional - and even sexual - bond of our marriage. But she also knows that I can separate myself. Remember, as a practicing psychologist I’ve been privy to women’s darkest secrets. They confide in me, cry to me. I offer advice. That’s a certain kind of intimacy in itself and not every woman is able to be in a relationship with a man who shares himself in that way. But Meredith knows I’ve never taken it over the line and I never would. And that would be no different if I come to work here. I’d like you to meet Meredith, especially if you need more assurance. Perhaps talking to her would put your mind at ease.” “I’d like to meet her. Maybe we could go out to dinner to celebrate your new job since I’m now convinced that you’re the perfect one to take on as partner.” Scott smiled and extended his hand for the shake that would seal the deal. “Wonderful,” he said. “When do I go to work?” “Well, if you’re interested, now,” Ross replied. “I just took on a new client and I was wondering if you were interested in paying her a follow-up visit. She was pretty shaken up after our first visit, but she I believe she went back to the apartment she shares with a very enabling roommate. I suggested she find a way to get away from the roommate. It might help if you stopped by and assisted her in any manner that she needs.” Ross scribbled Sadie’s address on a piece of paper and handed it to the newest partner in Resolutions, Inc. “Will do,” Scott said, and headed out. He was familiar with the town, at least, having taught at the local community college for a semester before going into private practice, which was where he met Meredith. As he drove towards Sadie’s apartment, he called his wife and gave her the news. Meredith was jubilant. “I’m glad for you, sweetie,” she said. “I know how concerned you’ve been about work since you wrote that paper. But we both know it was the right thing to do. Things happen for a reason.” Scott Grayson hung up feeling like the luckiest man in the world. Women like his wife were few and far between. They’d met at a talk given by an author and couples’ therapist. Scott had attended out of curiosity; Meredith - a fiction writer - had been there because the main character of the novel she was working on was a charismatic psychologist who ends up accused/framed for the murder of a client. Scott and Meredith struck up a conversation during a break that had led to dinner and a subsequent date. Scott had never met a woman more self-assured, or more frank. On their second date they were in a restaurant when the couple at a corner table got into an argument. The woman stood, called her date a name and threw her wine in his face. She
stood there, as if waiting for something and when he just wiped his face off and looked embarrassed the woman groaned and left in a huff. “Wow,” Scott said. “Now there’s a problem for a counselor.” Meredith stared at the man, who was cleaning port from his glasses. “I don’t think it would help,” she mused. “She won’t go back to him because he can’t give her what she wants?” Scott was intrigued. “And what would that be?” he asked. She turned and looked at him. “A spanking,” she said. “Any woman who throws down the gauntlet like that is looking for a guy to pick it up and accept the challenge. She wants a man to put her in her place, especially if she’s the kind of woman who needs desperately to know where her place is.” Her comment stunned and delighted him. “Miss Chandler, you do know that your statement could be either considered revolutionary or treason depending on the audience.” She shrugged, obviously unconcerned. “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Res ispa loquitur. It’s what women want.” “Even you?” he asked. Meredith laughed. She had a beautiful laugh, Scott thought. “Especially me,” she said. “I think it explains while I’m always the bridesmaid and never the bride. I’m too picky. I want a man who isn’t afraid to lead, and isn’t afraid of having a woman strong enough to expect a man to step up when he needs to. One day I hope to have a home, children - a household. If I were buying a company, I’d want it run by the strongest and smartest CEO I could find. The way I look at it, my household is more important than any company. Why should I want any less?” For Scott, hearing her admission was like striking gold. His social circle since graduation consisted of other professionals; most of the women he met were married, feminists or both. He never could have admitted to them that he shared Meredith’s views. To have a woman not only agree with him, but broach the topic herself was a veritable godsend. Scott and Meredith had been inseparable after that. Meredith had opened up to him about her own feelings about spanking, and how she’d come to embrace not just her need for discipline but her erotic fantasies about spanking as well. Their first sexual encounter involved erotic spanking as Scott delighted them both by finding her limits. This would
come in handy later when she challenged him and got her first real punishment spanking, a session that left her wailing in genuine pain and convinced that she had indeed found a man who would not back down. The conflict had arisen over Meredith’s procrastination. At the time, Scott was busy seeing clients while Meredith worked on her novel. They had agreed that her schedule allowed more flexibility to run errands and pay the bills. But Meredith was terrible at scheduling, and when he came home and found a late notice on a bill he’d asked Meredith to pay her excuses rang hollow. “This has been an ongoing problem, and one that’s going to be dealt with here and now, Meredith,” Scott had told her. “When we moved in together we agreed that we’d have certain responsibilities, and paying the bills - on time - was yours. Procrastinating on your own projects is one thing, but when your procrastination stands to damage my good name and credit rating, that’s something else.” Meredith had pleaded, cajoled and fumed. But none of her tactics had stopped Scott from putting the slight brunette over his knee, flipping up her skirt and spanking her relentlessly over her skimpy pink panties. Meredith tried to hold still, but being spanked hard - and without a warm-up - was far worse than she’d imagined. She fought him furiously, but she was no match for her boyfriend. He rewarded her defiance by pulling down her panties and reaching for the hairbrush she kept by the bed. The popping sound of the brush’s wooden back against her bare flesh joined the sounds of her plaintive wails as he added splotchy purple ovals to the pink backdrop of marks left by his punishing hand. After that, Meredith never paid the bills late again. Now that they were married, spanking played a huge role in their lives, and Meredith turned her pen towards non-fiction. She and Scott were working on a book about how disciplinary agreements could be used to diffuse conflicts within relationships. Meredith thought that the opportunity to become partners in something like Resolutions, Inc., would be a great way for her husband to learn more about the theory that spanking was an effective behavior modification technique for adults. She and Scott knew that they could never use the names of clients or even mention the cases, but they were aware that the experiences Scott could gain working there would be valuable research. Scott hoped so, too, and as he pulled into Sadie Ashton’s apartment complex he hoped that he’d be able to help the clients in the process.
Chapter Four “You don’t need fucking therapy, Sadie! What you need to do is put on your big girl panties and find a goddamn job where you aren’t working for a bunch of Nazis.” Gretchen flopped down on the couch, scowling. She wasn’t taking Sadie’s ultimatum well. When Gretchen arrived back at the apartment, she’d expected her roommate to be at work. But Gretchen had called in and Sadie had arrived to find her sleeping on the couch. The whole apartment smelled like weed and burning food. Sadie had gagged from the smoke as she pulled the tray of burning cookies from the oven. Now she stood confronting her friend. “I told you, Gretchen. I don’t want to lose my job, OK? My name’s on the lease so if you can’t smoke outside then you need to leave. I mean, how hard is it to find a place? Your parents give you money every time you ask for it.” “Well they didn’t today, at least not enough for rent,” Gretchen said sulkily. “They told me they were tired of bailing me out. They gave me just enough for groceries.” “Where are they then?” Sadie asked. Gretchen looked down guiltily. Sadie went to the cookie jar, opened it, and pulled out a baggie. Her face reddened as she held it aloft. “This, Gretchen?” she fumed. “This is your fucking contribution?” Gretchen grinned. “It’s Ice, baby.” Sadie felt herself falter as she looked at the bag. Ice. She’d smoked it once and it was the best, most amazing buzz she had ever had in her life. Sadie knew Gretchen’s supplier rarely got that particular kind of weed. To pass up a chance like this… “Come on, Sadie. I’ll do better,” Gretchen promised her tone cajoling. “I know you can kick me out but please don’t. I mean, I could couch surf and stuff but I like living here with you. I’ll make more of an effort to buy more groceries and I’ll even blow my smoke outside if you want me to.” She pointed at the bag. “But first you have to have a joint with me.” Sadie felt herself faltering. Gretchen felt it, too. She thought back to the spanking Ross Klein had given her. It had hurt so much. She didn’t want a repeat of it. She did want to stop smoking, though; she’d have to. But if she smoked just one more joint now and never did it again, he’d never know. It would be just one more; just one. One amazing, final buzz to ring in a new pot-free life.
“All right,” she said. “Great,” Gretchen said. “I’ll load the pipe; you put on a fresh batch of cookies.” Sadie popped them in the oven, feeling better now about her day. Ross Klein had humiliated her, and she had no way of avoiding him now that he had the good on her. But that didn’t mean she was going to let him ruin her evening. She turned back to Gretchen to find her with her head thrown back. She’d just taken a hit off the pipe and as she inhaled she smiled luxuriantly even through the coughs. “Aw man, this is good,” she said. “Here. You’re turn.” No, no, no! Sadie’s mind yelled. But her hand moved towards the pipe as if it had a will of her own. She put the pipe to her lips and drew in the sweet, acrid smoke. She felt the effects almost immediately. Her consciousness seemed to become unfettered from her body and float weightless. Everything seemed surreal, including the knock on the door until it registered to Sadie that it was real. “Yeaaahh?” Gretchen called, giggling. “Shit,” Sadie said, handing Gretchen the pipe. Quickly she waved the air. “We need to hide this stuff.” “It’s just Steve, Silly,” Gretchen said. “I told him to stop over. He never does but I guess he changed his mind.” Gretchen walked to the door and opened it. Sadie was pulling the cookies out of the oven and when she heard an unfamiliar voice talking over Gretchen. She turned to see a man pushing past Gretchen and coming into the house. “Sadie? Who the fuck is this guy? He says he’s here to see you but I’ve never seen him in my life.” Sadie was about to say that she didn’t know him either when he spoke first. “Ross sent me,” he said. Sadie felt silent as the words sunk through the gauze surrounding her brain. “Fuck,” she said. “Ross? Who the hell is Ross?” Gretchen asked.
Scott turned to Gretchen. “Ross is her uncle,” he lied. “You have an uncle?” Gretchen asked. “Yes,” Scott answered in Sadie’s stead. “And he sent me over here to check on her. And it would seem I’m just in time. Apparently I need to call the police.” “No, please.” The words were an almost instant buzzkill to Sadie, who walked over to the man. “I can explain.” “Police?” Gretchen burst out laughing. “Yeah,” said Scott, turning to her with a stern expression. “I have friends at the station, and by the time they’re finished with you it won’t be just you in jail but whoever sold you what you’re high on.” This got Gretchen’s attention. “Whoa,” she said. “I don’t want any trouble.” “Then get out,” Scott said. “Get out of here and wait for Sadie to arrange a day when you can come here - supervised - and get your things. Do you understand?” Sadie stepped forward. “Now you wait just a ...” “You be quiet, young lady,” he said in a voice so stern that Sadie backed down. “Never mind, Sadie,” Gretchen said. “Fuck this. I’m out of here. I don’t need this kind of hassle.” She wanted to call to Gretchen but her friend had already bailed. Sadie noticed that she’d grabbed the bag of weed on the way out. Scott locked the door behind her. “I guess she took what mattered to her.” “You have no right,” Sadie said. “And Mr. Klein had no right sending you to snoop.” “You’re a client, Miss Ashton,” he said. “That makes you our responsibility.” “Our?” she asked. “I’m Scott Grayson,” he said. “I’m Mr. Klein’s partner.” “Partner? He never said anything about having a partner.” “Well he does, Miss Ashton. And that means you answer to me as well as to him.”
He reached out and tipped up her chin with one finger. “Did you smoke tonight?” he asked. Sadie instantly dropped her eyes. She was a horrible liar. “No,” she said. “Look at me when you answer.” “Fuck off!” Sadie said, suddenly angry and defensive. Scott’s response was to grab her upper arm, wheel her around and lay three hard, rapidfire swats to her backside. She howled in pain; her bottom was still tender from the spanking Ross had given her, and his partner hit just as hard if not harder. “Look at me,” he repeated firmly and quietly, and this time Sadie obeyed, his face swimming through tears. Scott thought she looked very waiflike and vulnerable, but reminded himself he was here to help her. “Now answer me,” he said. “Did you smoke?” “Will you spank me if I did?” she asked. “Yes,” he said. “And I’ll spank you until you give me an honest answer so you’d better ask yourself just how much you can handle, Miss Ashton.” “Alright,” she said pitifully. “I took a hit. Gretchen had promised to start smoking outdoors and I thought…” “You thought no one would know…” She dropped her head and began to cry. “You know what’s going to happen now, don’t you Miss Ashton.” “Don’t…please…” Her voice was small and fearful. She pulled against his grip on her but he was so much bigger she knew fighting would be fruitless. He pulled Sadie over to the sofa, ignoring her whimpering protests. He could feel her shaking with trepidation as he pulled her over his lap; her hands instantly when back to cover her bottom. She repeated the word “no” in a fearful litany as he easily restrained her hands, tucking one arm between his body and hers and the other beneath her.
Meredith sometimes got just as afraid as the client over his lap, and Scott summoned his dispassionate side as he renewed his grip on the shaking girl and looked down at her vulnerable backside. He knew she was likely still very sore and considered going easy on her, but he instinctively knew this was not the time for leniency. If he had been a cop, she’d be at the station downtown being booked by now. But the morning she’d be unemployed. He raised his hand and brought it down on her bottom. Sadie’s legs flailed helplessly as the first blow unleashed a pitiful childlike bawl from Scott’s helpless victim. He targeted the lower portion of her bottom, aiming his smacks just below the pockets on her jeans. Each blow lifted the firm cheeks and he could feel the heat of her tortured skin through the denim fabric. Her pleas became garbled and unintelligible as he continued to spank her resolutely. Sadie tried everything - kicking, rocking back and forth, and bucking - but nothing worked. Scott could feel her weakening but continued to spank as her cries and pleas became hoarse and raspy. Finally he stopped. She’d gone limp over his lap. He turned her over and picked her up. “Which room is yours?” he asked. When she couldn’t answer he walked to the first bedroom. It was in complete disarray and smelled as if someone had left moldy food lying around. He walked to the next room. It was tidy and smelled clean, not unlike the girl in his arms. Scott laid Sadie facedown on her bed. He carefully took off the sneakers she was wearing and pulled the quilt up over her body. She continued to cry, the sound of it pitiful. He didn’t know whether he should leave, so he took a seat in a chair in the corner and sat there, listening as her hyperventilating stopped and her breathing finally evened out in sleep. When Scott was sure she was asleep he stepped outside on the apartment balcony and called Ross to fill him in on what had happened. Ross agreed that he’d done the right thing and told him to leave after writing a note directing Sadie to check in with Resolutions Inc., by phone the next morning. “I have an idea of some ways we may be able to help her,” Ross said. “I’ll check on them tonight.” Scott went into the kitchen, found a piece of paper and pencil, and wrote the note. He went and put it on Sadie’s bedside table and turned to leave. “Please lock the door behind you,” she said. He turned. “You’re awake.” Sadie sat up, wincing.
“Yeah, I heard you rummaging around in the kitchen. At first I thought it was Gretchen and then I remembered…” “It’s hard to see the big picture right now, Sadie, but eventually you’re going to realize this was the best thing that could have happened to you.” “You ran my roommate off,” she said. “Your roommate appears to be the source of a lot of your problems.” Sadie shook her head and reached for a tissue on the bedside table. “Yeah, well, she pays half the rent; most of the time. I’m going to lose this apartment without her help.” “No one is going to let you lose your home, Miss Ashton.” “None of this makes sense! None of it! I go to your office seeking help and some guys rifles through my purse and spanks me because he finds pot. I come home and another guy ambushes me, runs my roommate off and spanks me again. And you sit here and tell me that you’re going to make sure everything turns out OK? How the hell can you even say that when you’re just bringing me nothing but pain and complications?” Scott leaned forward in his chair. “You’re not looking at it in the right way,” he said. “Think back to your childhood. You probably felt the same way when your parents punished you for something you did, or told you that you couldn’t hang out with certain people because they were a bad influence. Am I right?” “No,” she said softly. “I grew up with a single mother who was gone so often I practically raised myself. I didn’t have anybody in my life that cared enough to keep me away from bad influences. I was a misfit; even in school the teachers treated me like I was invisible. If it weren’t for the fact that I was smart God only knows where I’d be. Any lessons I’ve learned have been self-taught. Which is why - regardless of what you and Mr. Klein think - your methods are useless. You can’t teach me anything I won’t eventually learn on my own.” Scott felt his heart go out to her. He nodded with genuine sympathy, feeling that this conversation was crucial in how things would proceed from here. “Did you share any of this with Mr. Klein?” Scott asked. “He didn’t give me the chance,” Sadie replied. “That’s unfortunate,” Scott said. “I’ll talk to him about that. But I’d like you to keep something in mind, too, Sadie. Can I call you Sadie?” She looked up at him, her expression still guarded. But he noted that her body language was less tense. Good.
“Don’t be so quick to brush aside something just because you never had it. You’re obviously smart and resourceful, and that’s come in handy in overcoming a lot of obstacles that would have tripped other people. But drug use, well, this is a different story.” “It’s just a little pot…” she said. “Yeah, but a little is enough to destroy everything you’ve spent your whole life fighting to achieve and you know that. On the whole, pot isn’t as bad as alcohol. Hell, it should probably be legalized. But the reality is, it’s not legal and you’re more than a recreational user. It seems you’ve surrounded yourself with people whose common interest is getting high. That’s a dangerous circle of friends. You forget that they don’t have as much to lose as you do. I can tell that by taking a look at the differences between you and your roommate. So maybe you didn’t have someone to put you on the straight and narrow growing up. If you had, then you’d realize what a wonderful motivator authority can be. That’s what Mr. Klein and I are here to provide now.” “So you’re like…dads?” He laughed. “Dads, guardians…think of it any way you like. Just remember that we’re not going to give up on you. We’re here not just to provide discipline, but support. We are trained to help people, after all. Discipline is just the primary tool. It’s an attention getter.” “It certainly got mine,” Sadie said quietly. “But I just worry that…” “What?” Scott pressed gently. “Don’t you think you guys might be oversimplifying things a little? I mean, when kids are little it’s easy to make them do what you want because their worlds are already so small. With adults there are so many other factors - life, friends, not to mention free will.” Scott was impressed. “That’s very astute of you, Sadie. But our worlds can be as complex or as complicated as we wish to make them. That’s something that my wife and I have learned over the years.” “Well, maybe so,” Sadie pouted. “But she doesn’t get spanked.” “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “My wife does get spanked when she does something she isn’t supposed to do. And she accepts it.” “Does she spank you?” Sadie asked indignantly.
“No,” he said. “Because I’m the designated leader. If anything, there’s more pressure on me to make the right choices. If I’m to be worthy of her respect, then I have to make absolutely sure my behavior sets the standard.” “Sounds simplistic,” Sadie grumbled. “It is,” he said. “But it’s because we’ve made it that way. And you can fashion your own life to be just as you want it too, Sadie. You can either see me and Mr. Klein as adversaries or as partners in your struggle. If you’re scared of being punished, then keep that in mind the next time you’re tempted. Because this is actually very simple; disobedience brings negative consequences. Positive steps forwards will bring you closer to living an independent life where you rely on yourself.” “That’s exactly what I want,” she said. “Well, you’re a client now, Sadie. And the only way you’re going to get what you want is to make us obsolete. And that means exercising the self-discipline you need so we don’t have to step in and discipline you ourselves. You are going to have to learn to say no to pot, to negative influences, to your desire to belong and to people who you know down deep are not good for you.” Sadie sat in silence, mulling it over. “How do you guys even make any money?” she asked. Scott laughed. “From what Mr. Klein tells me, our clients are so grateful that they have no problem paying their bills, even if they have to stretch it out a bit.” Sadie rolled her eyes. “I never thought I’d have to pay someone for spanking me.” Scott laughed at this. “Now who’s oversimplifying?” he asked. He stood. “I’m going to be going. Mr. Klein wants you to call him in the morning. He has something he wants to discuss with you.” Sadie decided she could handle that. Phone conversations felt safer; no one could spank her over the phone. “Get some rest, Sadie. You’ve had a long day.” “But it’s just getting dark out,” she protested. “Get some rest,” he repeated. “It’s not a request. It’s an order.” Sadie laid back down. She’d never had anyone tell her what to do. She closed her eyes and obeyed. It was, she decided, easier than she thought it would be.
Chapter Five Gretchen didn’t come back to the apartment. She did leave Sadie an abusive voicemail accusing her of being a liar. “You never even told me you had an uncle, let alone that he was going to come over and threaten me,” she said. “I’ll be by to get my shit this weekend. I’m going to stay with Mandy. So fuck you.” The message left Sadie angry and sad. She did not appreciate the fact that Scott had lied, even if he’d had good intentions. She was an honest person and had not kept anything from Gretchen, even if in retrospect she realized that her former roommate had not exactly been worthy of her confidences. The morning outside reflected her mood - gray and gloomy. Sadie felt lonely in the apartment. It didn’t help her anxiety when her temporary supervisor called from work to ask if she was still sick. “I’m still not a hundred percent,” she said. “But I’ll be there tomorrow.” She was relieved when he consented. “I just wanted to check in,” he said. “See you tomorrow, then.” Sadie’s next phone conversation was with Ross Klein. “I was told to call,” she said flatly when he answered the phone. “And so you did. Good,” he replied. “How are you?” “Less than thrilled,” Sadie said. “But somehow I don’t think that’s going to make a whole lot of difference to you. And there’s not much I can do since you’ll just turn me in for smoking pot.” She paused. “And how are you?” “Well, you’re still plucky enough to be sarcastic so that’s a good sign,” Ross replied. “I’m well, thank you. I just wanted to check on you and find out what your schedule was like for the day.” “Well, let’s see,” said Sadie. “First I’m going to try to piece together breakfast from what Gretchen didn’t eat during her pot binge yesterday. So it looks like I’m going to be having three cookies and a half a glass of milk. Then from ten until noon I’m going to sit here and worry that even though she’s been told not to, Gretchen may come in tomorrow while I’m at work to get her things and help herself to some of my stuff in the process. It wouldn’t be the first time. From noon until two I’m going to obsessively worry about how I’m supposed to find a new roommate before rent is due in two weeks. The rest of
the day I’m going to worry myself into knots by thinking how I could get drug tested at any point I go back to work, which would mean that all the shit I’ve been through since I met you was essentially for nothing.” She could hear Ross chuckling on the other end of the line. Humorous delivery aside, this was her life and it was not a joke. She told him so. “Relax. No one’s laughing at you. In fact, if you can pull yourself together I’d like to bring someone around to meet you around one o’clock. Would that be all right, Miss Ashton?” “Not if it’s someone else coming to spank me,” she said. Her bottom was still sore to the touch; the idea of going over another lap was unfathomable. “Quite the opposite,” he said. “I think this guest is going to be someone you can relate to, and if I’m right then the meeting may turn out to be advantageous to you both.” Sadie had to admit that she was intrigued. “OK, fine,” she said, as if she had a choice in the matter. “I’ll see you at one.” She spent the rest of the morning tidying up. Gretchen had left half her belongings lying around the apartment. Sadie took a basket from room to room, filling it with cast-off sweaters, socks, books, CD covers, and hairbrushes and then put everything in Gretchen’s room and shut the door. She had to admit that in spite her worries she was glad that someone had finally forced the situation with Gretchen. She knew her need to belong had driven her into a situation that was working against her best interests. And now that she was alone, she realized something else. Being alone wasn’t as bad as filling lonely spaces with people who didn’t really care about you. But these realizations did little to solve her immediate problem. She was alone again, and while her job paid better than average, it wasn’t enough to keep the apartment. Sadie knew with no parents to fall back on as co-signers it was very important to maintain a good credit score. She could not afford to fall behind on her rent or car payment. Ross was true to his word. At 1:00 there was a knock on the door. Sadie, freshly showered and wearing a funky flowered dress and thrift store boots, greeted Ross Klein, who walked in with a girl a year or two older than she was. “Sadie, this is Kathy Winters. Kathy, this is Sadie.” Kathy extended her hand and smiled. She was blonde with bright blue eyes and dimples. Her teeth were slightly crooked, but something about the imperfection only made her cuter. Sadie thought she looked kind. She accepted the offered hand and shook it. “Hello,” they said to each other.
“I appreciate your letting me bring a guest into your home on such short notice, Sadie,” Ross said. “After what happened yesterday I thought it might be helpful for you to meet Kathy. She has a lot in common with you. She’s a college graduate, works in a professional job…” “I’m an assistant librarian at the university,” Kathy interjected. “…and she’s a former client,” Ross said. Sadie stared at the other woman. “Seriously?” she asked. “Seriously,’ Kathy said. “And honestly, if it weren’t for Mr. Klein here, I don’t think I would have a job. I came to him last February because I had - for lack of a better word an attitude problem. I couldn’t get along with anyone. I always had to have the last word. I’d lost a string of friends over the years and had frankly become such a bitch that two of my sisters stopped talking to me.” Sadie tried to imagine the sunny blonde sitting across from ever having a cross word to say to anyone. She looked extremely relaxed and approachable. “I tried going to a shrink, but she just put me on anti-depressants and that just made it worse. I wasn’t really depressed anyway. I was just angry for no good reason. I had this giant chip on my shoulder and even before I talked to the shrink I knew why it was there. Middle child raised in a home where everyone fought. I knew the root cause of my animosity; I just didn’t know how to stop it. I don’t think I even appreciated how bad it was until I got my first performance evaluation at work. It was like a kick in the gut. It said that my weakness was working with others, and my boss told me that my combative attitude was going to be my downfall. That was my wake-up call. I’d put myself through college working as a waitress. I’d worked too hard to throw everything away.” “Sound like anyone you know?” Ross asked Sadie. “Go on,” Sadie said to the other woman. “So I answered Mr. Klein’s ad. I didn’t know what to expect any more than you did when you walked in. He asked me some questions about why I was there, got some background and just kept me there, talking. I think he was waiting for some demonstration of my problem and true to form within an hour I said something totally condescending and bitchy - I don’t even remember what it was now - and he spanked me right there in his office.” “And you didn’t just leave?” Sadie asked. “Oh, I wanted to. I wanted to call the police. But he told me to go ahead and do it. He told me to call the police and then go back to destroying my life and heading down a road
to where I’d end up as a bitter, self-loathing pariah. He said I was probably the only person left who cared enough to tell me the truth and if I wanted to turn my back on that it was my choice.” “And?” Sadie asked. “Well, I stood there with my hand on the doorknob and just broke down. Believe me, I wanted to walk away. But I knew he was right. Everything I’d touched was turning to shit because I couldn’t get along with anybody. So instead of leaving I stayed there and asked him just how he expected to break me from my self-destructive attitude.” He told me he wasn’t, that I was. He said he’d just be the motivating factor behind my new outlook. Mr. Klein told me to keep a diary, which I started doing. I was to honestly record my interactions with people as I went throughout my day. I didn’t realize how motivated he would be, though…” Kathy paused and smiled sheepishly. “In the corner coffee shop, I turned after berating the barista to see a man at a corner table peek from behind his newspaper. It was Mr. Klein. Outside on the sidewalk he whisked me into his car, took me back to his office and spanked me so hard I couldn’t sit for two days. It wasn’t easy, but the time I spent under Mr. Klein’s watch had a dramatic effect on my life. People can say what they want. They can accuse me of being weak; of being submissive…I don’t care. All I care about is that I’m now where I need to be. I was forced to change the way I interacted with people, but I had so little self control that force was exactly what I needed. I accepted having painful consequences for enduring potentially more damaging ones. I exchanged the occasional humiliation of a sore butt and an injured pride for being unemployed and alone.” She smiled at Mr. Klein and then at Sadie. So that’s my story.” The three were silent for a moment. “Wow,” Sadie said. “Hearing this actually…helps.” “I thought it would,” Ross said. “Given that women are taught never to give up control, the biggest issue a lot of our clients have is guilt for accepting our program. That’s why it’s been my policy to take the choice out of their hands…” “Like you did when you blackmailed me,” Sadie said. “Regrettably, yes,” Ross said. “But you have to admit, if I had not done it, you’d have left without ever giving yourself a chance to see whether Resolutions, Inc. could work for you.” Sadie nodded begrudgingly. It was a good point.
“You said on the phone that Kathy and I could help each other? How?” Ross Klein smiled. “Kathy is looking for a place to live.” “Really?” Sadie asked. “Yeah, I’ve been renting a house with some roommates but the owner just sold it to a couple that wants to renovate it. I can get an apartment at Crestwood Villas but I’d rather not stay alone. Being alone isn’t good for me. I get sullen when I’m alone. That was one of the changes Mr. Klein suggested I make in my life - more human contact. I consider myself a work in progress. I try making positive interaction a conscious effort. And since you’re looking for a roommate, I thought…” Sadie’s head was reeling. “Can I think about it?” she asked. “No offense, but so much is happening so quickly.” She looked at Kathy, gauging her reaction. She wanted and needed a roommate, but not one that had a flash temper. Kathy described herself as a “work in progress.” Did that mean she might turn on Sadie? Sadie didn’t know. And she didn’t want to take chances. Kathy nodded. “Sure,” she said. “We just thought it might be a win-win.” “I agree with Kathy,” Ross said. “Take time to think about it.” “It’s not that I don’t want to help her - and myself out,” Sadie said. “It’s just that…well; I just ended a relationship with a very troubled roommate. She wasn’t always nice to me and while I know you say your better now, I guess deep down I’m worried that if something happened and we had some disagreement…I just don’t want any conflict.” “I can understand that,” Kathy said. Sadie could not help but note how disappointed her guest looked. Ross leaned forward. “There’s something else I think you should know, Sadie. It’s something that Kathy here didn’t really want me to tell you but I think it’s important that everything is out in the open.” He turned to Kathy. “Do you mind?” “No,” she said. “You’re right. It’s relevant.” “Kathy is still under our care. Not consistently, mind you. But when she feels like she’s out of control or feels tense, she comes to me for maintenance spankings.” “Maintenance?” Sadie repeated. “Yes,” Kathy said. “Sometimes I feel frustration building in me like a volcano. I live in fear that I’m just going to erupt. If it starts to get bad I just go to Mr. Klein. He spanks me and all the tension comes out in a good cry instead of anger.”
“That’s another reason I’d like to see you guys as roommates,” Ross said. “You have a lot in common, both being clients. And if there’s conflict between the two of you, who better to straighten it out than the person acting as the authority figure in your lives.” Sadie considered this - a peer living with her and an authority figure keeping an eye on both of them. It was almost like…a family… “And if it doesn’t work out?” “Then since I suggested it, if it doesn’t work out I’ll move Kathy out and pay her portion of the rent here until you find a new roomie. That’s how sure I am that this will work out, Miss Ashton. I don’t bet on something unless I think it’s a sure thing.” “Does that include your clients?” Sadie asked. “Most of all my clients,” he said. “Did you think I accept everyone into the program who walks through the door at Resolutions, Inc?” “Actually, I assumed you did,” Sadie replied. “Look,” Kathy interrupted. “I know it’s a lot to ask. But if you would just think about it, that would be great.” She stood and Ross followed. “Can I let you know tomorrow?” asked Sadie, walking them to the door. “Sure,” Ross said. Outside the apartment, Kathy turned to Ross. “Do you think it went OK?” she asked. “How do you think it went?” “I think she hated me,” Kathy said miserably. Ross helped her into the car and then got into the driver’s seat. “That’s a bit strong an opinion, Kathy. I think Sadie’s cautious and I think she wants to get her life in order.” “Yeah, and she doesn’t want some fucking hothead screwing it up for her. Face it, Mr. Klein. I’m never going to be any good to anyone.” She continued to berate herself all the way back to the office, where Ross opened the door for her as he continued to listen. Once inside, he held up his hand.
“Stop,” he said. “Stop right now and think. What are you doing, Kathy?” She halted and put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, damn,” she said. “I was doing it again, wasn’t I?” “Doing what?” he asked. “Painting a negative picture and reacting to it.” “That’s right,” he said. “And what happens when you do that.” Fear crossed Kathy’s pretty face. “No, Mr. Klein. Really. You don’t have to. I mean, I know what I did was wrong now, right? So there’s no need for…” “For me to spank you? I’m afraid there’s very good need for it. Come here, Kathy.” He sat down on the couch and motioned her over. Kathy stood, shifting from one foot to the other, nervously. “One,” he said. “Mr. Klein…” “Two…” “Please, can’t we just talk about this?” “Three.” He stood and grabbed her. Kathy did not resist but she was already crying when she fell across his lap. Ross pulled up her skirt and jerked down her panties. Unlike Sadie, Kathy had a high pain tolerance and only a bare-bottomed spanking could get through to her. He reached into the table to his left and pulled a paddle out of the drawer. Kathy, catching a glimpse of the implement from the corner of her eye, began to plead. But he was in no mood to take pity. Ross began to spank her hard, each blow flattening the white cheeks for a split second before they rebounded to bloom with a pink oval imprint. He worked methodically, ignoring her cries as he peppered her bottom relentlessly with the paddle over and over. When he was finished he let her up. Kathy hopped around the room rubbing her sore bum until Ross stopped her by dragging her to the corner. He knew what she needed now; time to burn herself out by crying and time to think. When he came back in ten minutes later she was sniffling pitifully, her shoulders slumped in what he knew was an admission of weakness.
“So what were you doing?” he asked. “Painting the worst case scenario,” he said. “And what happens when we do that?” he asked. “We make it our reality.” “That’s right, Kathy,” he said. “So tell me again what’s really going on?” She wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve and sighed. “Sadie’s at home, thinking it over. Taking on a roommate is a big decision and she wants to make sure it’s the right one. She’s weighing her options. “And she’s doing something else, too,” Ross said. “She’s taking into account not just your failings, but hers. You’re not the only one with problems. Sadie’s in the program, too. And you two can help each other.” Kathy sniffed. “Yeah, and if I were her I’d be thinking that was a plus.” “So would I,” he said. “Now come on. Dry your eyes and pull up your panties. I’ll take you home.” The phone began to ring as Kathy pulled on her coat. She waited as Ross went back to his office to answer it. He came back with a smile on his face. “That was Sadie,” he said. “It was?” Her tone was cautiously optimistic. “She said she’d thought about it and would like to give it a try. Her roommate is coming to get her things on Saturday and she said if you wanted to come move in on Sunday that would be fine with her.” “Seriously? She really wouldn’t mind?” “Kathy?” His tone held a warning. “Yeah, right,” she said. “Positive. Well, that’s great. I’m so happy!” She rushed to Ross and gave him a quick hug. “See,” he said. “I told you things would work out.” **** SIX MONTHS LATER “I think the recipe calls for two cups of cheddar,” Kathy said, peering at the cookbook.
“Are you sure?” Sadie looked over her roommate’s shoulder. “Yep, you’re right. And I need glasses.” They were busy making a lasagna for the book club meeting they were hosting. Getting together with more people had been Sadie’s idea, but the book club had been Kathy’s. The university promoted the club and since joining the pair had made a number of new friends. Two months after joining Resolutions, Inc., Sadie had officially “graduated.” She’d been fortunate that ChemCom had taken three months to hire a replacement for Jake. By the time the new - and far less likable - replacement got around to subjecting her and the other workers to drug tests, she tested clean. She’d gone by Resolutions, Inc., that afternoon and told Ross she didn’t think she’d need his oversight anymore. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I am,” she said confidently. “I just need to pay you now.” He set up a payment plan she could handle. With a new responsible roommate sharing all the bills now, paying Resolutions, Inc. no longer seemed like a burden. And after all that they had done for her. Kathy continued to visit Mr. Ross every few weeks. Sadie never asked, but she always knew when it had happened by the difference in her roommate’s demeanor. The book selection for the club that night was about a chronic liar named Clara whose penchant for fibbing wrecked her life. “In the book, Clara lies to herself about the extent she’s destroyed everything she held dear,” the leader of the discussion was saying. “How could she have avoided it?” As the other members of the club weighed in with predictable responses, Sadie caught Kathy’s eye and they smiled. Only they knew that in real life they’d have sent the poor Clara to Resolutions, Inc.