The Matchmaker Read online

Cassie Bernard couldn't remember when the idea of being dominated and spanking didn't turn her own. And she couldn't remember not feeling that it was terribly wrong to feel the way she did.

  She'd been raised by a feminist mother and beatnik father, both artists and social activists. Cassie had never shared her hidden fantasies of spanking and submission with them; she knew without asking that they would have been alarmed. Any other sexual expression or kink they considered self-expression; during her formative years Cassie had been introduced to a number of gays, lesbians, transvestites and self-professed swingers. But Cassie had overheard her mother say on several occasions that any woman desiring to be dominated was simply bowing to the shreds of a dying patriarchy, and needed to rid herself of the "toxic" conditioning that held women back.

  So Cassie had kept her secret and majored in psychology in an attempt not to understand others, but herself. She minored in Women's Studies, hoping the double whammy would purge her of her inner demons. Cassie learned of Freud's theory - that those spanked in childhood sexualize punishment and go on to develop spanking fetishes as adults. She also learned that early studies of masochism and it's alter-ego, sadism were primarily done on men - not on women who were thought to be submissive by nature. That point was echoed in her Women's Studies class, which decried submission in any form. The professor, like Cassie's mother, advanced the theory that any woman who wanted to submit to male authority was simply a throwback, a bit of dead weight trying to hold back women's rise against the patriarchy.

  For four years she studied what made people tick, devoting her spare time to trying to find out what made her tick. But by the time she got her diploma she had a lot of theories as to what may be behind her spanking fantasies, but no cure. And even more guilt. At 21 the fantasies were stronger than ever.

  So Cassie went for her master's degree, enjoying support from her parents as she worked as a part time counselor for several non-profit groups for practically nothing. Two years in she moved out and into her home apartment where - alone for the first time with computer access, she went online one night and did what she'd always been afraid to do: search for a spanking chat room. It was, she told herself, just a way to study others like her - to learn something that might trigger a cure.

  What she found was Barry.

  It had seemed like a cruel joke when he'd singled her out in the chat room. For months she'd been a lurker, reading the comments, the interplay, the bratting. There were men in the room who struck her as ridiculous with their posturing and attempts to one-up one another. Flaming was almost constant, and the ugliness of it began to turn Cassie off. "Good," she thought. "This is what I need to see - the reality of what I'll become if I give in to these unhealthy desires."

  So one night, after having decided she had enough, she ended her lurker status which what she intended to be her first - and last - comment, in which she excoriated the flamers and posers. "I'd come here hoping to learn," she wrote. "And what I've learned is that those who live this lifestyle apparently aren't very happy, judging by the anger they continue to harbor."

  Cassie was just about to log out when a private message popped up on her screen. "They're unhappy and act out because they aren't truly comfortable with themselves." The message came from Barry, and in spite of herself, Cassie found herself tapping a reply.

  "Are you?" she asked.

  "What?" came the reply.

  "Comfortable with yourself?" she typed.

  "Yes," he said. "Are you? You're obviously here because you're interested in the lifestyle. You obviously have needs you're trying to explore. The trick is to come to terms with yourself before entering a relationship. I have, and am now looking for someone. My name is Barry. If you'd like someone to correspond with, I'm here for you."

  He'd included his email address and Cassie was unable to resist emailing him and beginning a correspondence that revealed a man almost too good to be true. He was single, 32, employed as an engineer and - to their mutual surprise - lived just 50 miles away.

  Barry was open about his lifelong spanking and domination fantasies. He said he'd never felt it was wrong and postulated that perhaps it was because - as Cassie's mother had said - society still subconsciously endorsed male dominance. But at the same time, Barry pointed out, feminists were punishing the natural submission in some women, which was ironic since feminism was about choice.

  Slowly, over the next few weeks, Barry eased Cassie closer to acceptance of her nature. They exchanged photos on New Year's Day and had their first real date on February 14th Valentine's Day.

  Cassie was pleased to see that Barry looked just like his picture. He was 5'11" and not wearing platform shoes as she'd feared. So many of the men in the BDSM scene, she'd read, were short and driven to dominate from their own insecurity. Barry had also been honest about his thinning hair, but modest about his handsome (she thought) face and well-developed upper body. Seeing him made her pleased that she'd hit the gym and hadn't lied about needing too. Cassie had lost 15 pounds during her online correspondence with Barry, who'd casually eased her into the D/s role by "assigning" her a fully-paid gym membership and charting her daily progress.

  And just as his praise and growing authority eased Cassie under his control, it eased her into breaking her no-sex-on-the-first-date rule. After a dinner at a romantic little Italian restaurant, Cassie was too easily convinced to do as Barry requested - put her faith in him to take things to what he called "the next level."

  So they went back to his place, where Cassie was presented with two presents and a card.

  "Happy Valentine's Day," Barry said.

  "Oh." Cassie had suddenly felt awkward. "I didn't get you anything. I mean, with it being our first date I thought..."

  Barry put a finger to her lip to silence her. "I'm not expecting anything in return, unless you feel compelled to give it."

  He stepped back in but when Cassie started to open the card, he stopped her. "No," he said. "Save that for last."

  So Cassie had obediently put the envelope down and opened the first package, which contained an outfit that left her speechless with surprise - an antique white corset and matching satin skirt. During their email conversations, Barry had asked her about her fantasies and she had sheepishly confided her hidden penchant for Victorian-style corsetry.

  "I had it custom made to fit you, to celebrate your success in the gym." Barry had looked at Cassie, gauging her reaction.

  "You used the measurements I sent you on my last report," she said and looked up at him, her eyes swimming with tears. "Oh, Barry. This is so...it's so...it's just too much!"

  "No it's not," he said. "And aren't you forgetting your other gift?"

  Cassie had looked down at the second package, a flat box measuring about fourteen inches in length. With a glance in Barry's direction she began to carefully peel away the wrapping paper, and when she lifted the lid her face colored with a deep blush.

  A supple leather strap - about 24 inches in length - lay doubled against a velvet lining. Beside it lay a jeweled choker.

  Cassie had looked up at Barry, not knowing what to say. She was relieved when he stood and walked over to her, laid the boxes aside and raised her to her feet.

  "Cassie, I'm not a man who believes in playing games," he had said. "I've been studying up on the lifestyle and hanging out in chat rooms long enough to know I don't need to join the scene or play to have what I want." He held the choker up in front of her, the little diamonds twinkling in the light. "I want someone to be mine, 24/7," he said. "I want a woman who will swear to obey, a woman who isn't uncomfortable with a complete power exchange. I want that woman to be you, Cassie."

  He smiled at her. "Will you be that woman?"

  With tears glistening in her eyes, Cassie lifted her hair and nodded. Barry ceremoniously placed the choker around her neck, telling her that his "collaring" of her symbolized her servitude to him. "There's no going back now," he had said, and then issued his first order. She was to open the env
elope.

  It wasn't a card, but her first list of Commands. Cassie's heart raced as she read it:

  1. Change into your new outfit. No panties.

  2. Kneel on the floor in front of Sir Barry.

  3. Prepare yourself for your first spanking.

  It was like a dream as she changed into the outfit. Barry helped her lace the corset with an almost reverent touch, calling her his lovely pet. The saner part of her brain told her she was moving too fast - they both were - but the night was like a fantasy unfolding and she couldn't restrain her desire to see it through to the end. Kneeling before him, unashamed, felt so good to Cassie. And when he informed her he was going to punish her - not for any wrongdoing - but to establish that he could her inner reaction was one of fear and exhilaration.

  All those lonely nights spent fantasizing about being over a man's knee, all the disappointment in boyfriends she knew would not understand her desires - that all evaporated as Barry draped her face down over his lap and pulled up the yards of crinoline and lace to expose her bare bottom. Even with the front of the skirt still bunched under her, Cassie could feel the stirring of arousal as it grew and throbbed against her lower belly.

  Barry began to lecture her then, telling Cassie that from that point on she was his and his alone, and that he'd not tolerate her so much as looking at another man, that from that point on she would exist to do his bidding and would live her life according to the daily directions he gave her. The guilty thrill of defying convention by pledging her obedience to his words was delicious. And when his hand came down on her bottom - not hard at first, just hard enough to sting a bit, Cassie heard herself moan.

  Later, when Barry confessed that she was the first woman he'd ever spanked, Cassie was amazed, for he'd seemed such a natural, applying the swats harder and harder until he found her limit. And when the tears began to flow - partially from pain and partially from gratitude, he rubbed the reddened skin, his soothing touch massaging the purple-red splotches the strap had overlaid the handprints that began the spanking.

  Barry had told her that when he was forced to spank her for punishment - and those spankings would happen, she could be sure - there would be no sex afterwards. But when he spanked her for his own pleasure, well, that was different. And, again, when Barry took control and led her to his bedroom Cassie felt powerless to resist.

  She'd stayed for breakfast the next morning. And lunch. And dinner. And every available moment after that. There was always some sort of spanking involved, whether it involved her being pulled into an alley for a quick few swats on the rear for some cheeky comment, bent over his lap for a playful spanking - followed by a blow job - in the car parked by the river, or kneeling facedown on his bed for the strap or newly acquired implement in his growing collection.

  Each morning they were apart he emailed Cassie her Commands for the day - what to wear, what to eat for lunch, where to meet him for dinner. Sometimes he sent along a link on the Lifestyle with instructions to read it for discussion.

  And then less than two months after their first date, when she opened her emailed Commands she had to read it twice to believe what she was seeing:

  1. Break your lease

  2. Hire a moving company to transfer your belongings to my house.

  3. Charge any expenses to my credit card.

  Again, Cassie's head told her to slow down. But she was now addicted to Barry's control, and his unspoken expectation that she would respond to such a profound change simply on his order was exciting to her. Hadn't she dreamed of a 24/7 lifestyle, of having her control stripped away and assumed by a loving dominant? Barry had done nothing to prove he was anything but that loving dominant.

  So she'd put aside any doubts and moved into his comfortable ranch house. They met one another's parents and friends without offering any clues of their unusual relationship dynamic. But behind closed doors things became more intense than ever. Cassie received commands twice a day. Barry seemed to revel in his role as dominant, and his consistent control brought Cassie the security and happiness she'd always dreamed.

  Then slowly, things began to change. Cassie had gone into the relationship with realistic expectations; she expected that the honeymoon phase of their relationship would be the most intense. She expected things to level off. When Barry's company, Logitech, downsized a year into their relationship and he had to take a lower-paying job, she was understanding when he became too preoccupied to spank her daily. To supplement their income, she dropped out of the master's program and went to work for MatchYou, hoping that things would get better. But they didn't. Barry made a new friends at his new workplace, a far cry from the old company where he was low man on the totem pole. At his new job he was one of the boys, and seemed more sure of himself. Cassie soon realized that Barry wasn't the loner she'd always figured him for, but had isolated himself out of insecurity.

  It unnerved her a bit; with her he had always seemed so sure of himself, so masterful. It wasn't until after he left Logitech that he confided how unappreciated and helpless he'd felt in his role. The new job, even with less pay, brought him a new confidence.

  But with that workplace confidence came less oversight at home, and Cassie began to worry that Barry's dominance had come not from a need to have something to control. Barry had a spanking fetish, and still spanked her, but for Cassie the spankings out of context weren't as satisfying. When the cherished envelopes went from coming twice a day to coming once a day, and then not all, she finally spoke up.

  "What's happening?" she asked Barry one morning, after going to the counter where the envelope usually appeared and finding nothing.

  "What are you talking about?" It was Saturday and Barry, who was perusing the sports page, looked up at her with something akin to mild irritation.

  Cassie had sat down across from him, trying to hold back the tears. "Things have, well, they've changed so much," she'd said. "The dynamic, I mean."

  Barry had put the paper down and sighed. "A lot's changed, Cass," he said. "For both of us. We're both working now. We're both busier."

  "And I understand that," she'd replied. "But my needs haven't changed. And I thought you ---"

  "Thought I'd be able to just put sex play before everything 24/7?" he'd asked.

  His words had hit Cassie like a hammer. "It's not play for me, Barry," she said. "You know that."

  An uncomfortable glance had passed over Barry's face. "Oh, c'mon, Cass," he'd said, and she thought she detected a tone of disgust in his voice. "We were both curious when we started this. But it's not really practical to do this all the time."

  "Barry!" The tears were flowing now and for the first time, Cassie felt ashamed to tell her partner how she really felt. "It's not about practical. It's about who I am. The control, the notes. They're important to me. I thought you knew that. And I haven't changed."

  "Well I have," he'd said impatiently and picked up the paper. But when she began to sob wretchedly from across the table, he sighed and tossed it aside.

  "Look, Cass," he said, rising and going over to her. "I love you. I really do. And if you want me to tell you what to do, I will. But I can't be expected to play ---"

  "I told you, it's not play," she said through her tears.

  "OK, not to you. But it's not all that big a deal to me anymore. I've got more to do than play daddy to you."

  "I don't want a daddy!" she shot back. Cassie suddenly felt very angry, and rose from her chair. "God, it's like you don't even understand anymore."

  "Well, maybe I don't," he replied, then rubbed his hands over his face. "Look," he said. "I'll try to give you some of what you need. I can't go back to the way things were in the beginning because it's just too much...too much work, I guess. And I've got other things I'd rather be doing. I'm sorry if that hurts, but it's true." He walked over and took her in his arms. Cassie was stiff in his embrace. "But because I love you I'll try. I'll start the notes again if you want. And you know I still love to spank you in bed. That's som
ething, right?"

  It was, and Cassie knew then that was the best she could hope for. The notes had resumed the next day, and for awhile things were better. Barry was creative and dominant in his commands and his follow-through. But soon that all changed and the daily Commands Cassie had come to depend on were reduced to a chore list for a man who spent as much time with his friends as he did with her.

  Now, as she looked at this latest list, she wondered if her mother wasn't right all along. Perhaps any woman who wanted to be dominated deserved what she got. Perhaps this was a lesson she needed to learn, that the kind of man she was looking for - a true loving dominant, just didn't exist.

  Chapter Three

  "What happened to you this weekend? I tried calling several times but didn't get an answer." Jill's voice was concerned as she tapped Cassie on the shoulder. Cassie turned and slowed her pace. It was fifteen minutes before she was supposed to be at work and talking to Jill would give her an excuse not to be in the windowless offices of MatchYou any sooner than she had to.

  "Oh, sorry," said Cassie. "I felt a little under the weather and had the phone off. I slept most of the weekend." She hated lying to Jill but couldn't bring herself to confide - not even to her closest friend - the devastating encounter she'd had with her boyfriend on Saturday afternoon.

  Cassie had decided to surprise Barry when he came home from basketball practice by waiting for him in the outfit he'd given her on their first date. It was a bit tighter now, but she still fit in it. She'd prepared a romantic lunch and had pulled the straight-backed chair out and set it in a prominent place in the front room, with their two favorite implements laying on the seat - the leather strap and leather-backed paddle.

  When she heard his key in the lock, she breathlessly turned and assumed the Gorean "Bara" position - lying facedown on the floor with her ankles crossed and wrists crossed at the back. Early in their relationship, Barry - a fan of the Gorean novels - would often order her to greet him in one of the many positions described in the books. Cassie had hoped that seeing her meekly situated in the outfit, implements at the ready, would reawaken the now-dormant dominant in her man.