Adjusting Addie Read online

  Adjusting Addie

  RJ Gray

  Blushing Books

  What’s Inside

  "Have you ever been spanked, Addie girl?" She shook her head no. "When we are here like this and you are going to be disciplined, I expect you to respond. You will answer me with respect. The phrase you are looking for is, 'No, Sir'. Have you ever been spanked before, Addie girl?"

  "No, Sir," she whispered.

  "Good girl." She could get used to those beautiful words falling from his lips. "I am going to pull you over my lap, and you are going to put both of your hands flat on the floor. You won't cover your bottom when I spank you. If you resist during a spanking, you will simply be adding on to it. It will never behoove you to resist in any way. This includes covering your butt with your hands. Since it is your first spanking, I will allow you to keep your pants on. Next time, Addisyn, you will remove your pants before I spank you. Do you have any questions, baby?"

  Addie thought it was so sweet of him to worry about her and let her have a chance to speak. "What if someone hears us?" She worried about a passerby hearing and calling the police or something dramatic occurring.

  ""When I bought this office, I remodeled it. Patient privacy is important to me. I see patients for a wide variety of issues, including nutrition, diabetes and the like. I had this office soundproofed so that those in the waiting room couldn't hear our conversation. I never thought about it also keeping the sound of my naughty girlfriend getting her butt spanked contained, an added bonus, I'm sure. Let's get this over with."

  He guided her over his knees, and she felt their pressure under her stomach and hip bone. Her hands were flat in front of her, her head lying forward, her long hair covering her eyes. She swore her heart was beating in her stomach instead of her chest. She felt exposed, even with her jeans on. She knew her fat and imperfections were visible.

  "Why are you getting this spanking, Addie girl?" she heard Brad ask from somewhere in the distance. Crack! A hard swat landed right where her butt met her leg. It hurt, and she gasped from the stinging pain. It was nothing like she had expected.

  "Addisyn, I asked you a question," she heard Brad ask in the tone she had grown all too familiar with.

  "Ummm, because I called myself fat?" she muttered. Swat! Swat! Two more hard swats landed on the same spot. She thought his aim must be off. She had a huge butt, and he wasn't swatting it. "Ouch!" she yelled. "Your aim sucks! That isn't even my butt!" Maybe those were not the right words to shout at a man who was spanking you, she thought, a second after they left her mouth. He gave her another firm swat right in the same spot. Damn! That hurt!

  "My aim is just fine." She heard a small chuckle. "This spot happens to get attention a lot faster than the meat of your butt. How did I tell you to address me during discipline?"

  "Oh."

  "Oh. Yes, oh. You have one more try before I change my mind and remove your jeans. I want an answer, and I want a correct one. Why are you over my knee right now, little girl?"

  Addie heard 'little girl' and her belly flip flopped. The modern, career girl, Addie would have spouted something about equal rights and degradation, but in this position, with this man, it felt more like an endearment.

  "I called myself a fat, disgusting slob, Sir!" Addie hoped Brad was proud of her for addressing him correctly.

  "Do you know what I think about my girlfriend calling herself those disgusting words?" he asked. "Let me show you." Addie barely had time to register that he used the term 'girlfriend' for a second time before his palm was coming down in a steady tempo.

  Published by Blushing Books

  An Imprint of

  ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.

  A Virginia Corporation

  977 Seminole Trail #233

  Charlottesville, VA 22901

  ©2019 by ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc. and RJ Gray

  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. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

  RJ Gray

  Adjusting Addie

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-982-4

  v1

  Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.

  Contents

  Foreword

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  RJ Gray

  EBook Offer

  Blushing Books Newsletter

  Blushing Books

  Foreword

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Prologue

  The splattering of rain on the windshield turned into a torrential downpour, and she hoped her wipers could keep up with the frequency and volume of water surging from the sky. She looked in the rearview mirror at the beautiful, sleeping girl in the back seat. The child was her motivation, her reason for fighting back. The pitch blackness all around her reminded her of his soul. There was not a light on the road nor in the sky; it was so dark that even the mountains were hidden from view. Escaping was her priority; she had to get away as quickly as possible. A few hours ago, the courts had awarded her an order of protection, but she knew the order wouldn't stop him. The monster wouldn't hesitate to walk right through the flimsy piece of paper that sat in the seat next to her. If anything, he would be infuriated and spurred on by the decree. She knew the second that he was served would be the second that he would come looking for her.

  Her eyes darted back and forth across the road, scanning for other cars and checking the rearview mirror obsessively, afraid she was being followed. She hadn't seen another set of headlights for at least five miles. Her heart was racing. Her anxiety, mingled with trepidation, prevented her from being able to slow down the fast thumping of her heart in her chest. The beat of the bass drum that was her pulse sounded loudly in her ears. She wiped her palms on her pants for the third time in ten minutes, drying the sweat from them. With a white knuckled grasp on her steering wheel, she checked her speed and slowed down. She had to escape him but not by killing them in a car accident. What good would it be if she escaped her death at his hands just to die at her own? A destination hadn't been determined; she wasn't yet sure where she was going. All she knew was she had to get away from him.

  Across the highway, a car came into view. She watched it, waiting for it to pass her so she could let out the breath she was now holding. Her eyes grew large when she saw it start to drive across the median and head straight towards them. Instinctively, she hit the gas and jerked the wheel to the right, driving onto the shoulder of the highway. If her calculations were right, the car should miss hitting them and drive right behind their car and off of the road into the grass field beyond.

  She watched in horror as the car corrected course to her new location. The beams of light grew brighter, blinding her, as the vehicle rushed towards them. Crash! The sound of meta
l hitting metal filled her ears as her body jerked forward, her head slamming into the steering wheel upon impact. The squeaking of the car door opening revealed his figure and she knew he had found her. She painfully lifted her head, her gaze going to the large rock in his hands. Her eyes widened in terror, her lips parted to beg for mercy, but before the first word could escape and make her pleas known, his arm rose, and everything went black.

  The buzzing sound in the distance woke her, but she was slow to open her eyes or move. Her head was throbbing like a sorority girl on a Monday morning after a weekend of pounding wine coolers and vodka. The buzzing in the distance wasn't helping her headache. The intensity of the pain made her thoughts foggy. She shivered as she felt air from a fan hit her face and bare arms. The cold hard ground pressing into her legs added to her discomfort. Goose bumps rose over her exposed flesh; she wasn't sure if they were caused by the temperature or the feeling of dread that was pooled like a rock in the bottom of her stomach. Ouch! The pain in the back of her head grabbed her attention, her hand going to it. The large, golf ball sized knot was hard to miss and the warm sticky residue in her hair transferred to her hand. Without opening her eyes, she knew it was blood. Something wasn't right. Where was she? How did she get here?

  Finally, she opened her eyes, quickly regretting it when the light above her stabbed into her eyeballs like the sharp ends of icicles falling off her grandpa's porch roof in the winter. She squeezed her eyes closed tightly again and, taking a deep breath, reopened them. She stared directly ahead at the wall while allowing the room to come into focus. The task took longer than she would have liked. The initial stabbing sensation dulled some, but the room continued to spin in circles. She fought back bile rising in her throat and knew instinctively that she had a concussion. Her chest rose and fell as she sucked air in through her nose and out through her mouth using a technique she had mastered to keep from hyperventilating. She was seconds away from having an anxiety attack. Breathe. Assess. Attack. Breathe. Assess. Attack. Years of panic attacks had taught her how to formulate a survival plan. Breathe and get your heart rate under control. Assess the situation. Formulate an attack strategy to overcome the obstacle. Breathe. Assess. Attack.

  The rock in her stomach turned into a boulder as the sound of his laughter sent terror down her spine. She raised her head towards the sound. Her cries of pain as she turned her neck permeating the room. Her hand flew up to her mouth, squashing the noise. She knew how her pain fueled his lust. At the sounds of her cries, his lips turned up into the snarl she was all too familiar with. She wanted to slap the look of satisfaction off of his face. His eyes darkened, his lips pressed together, and his eyebrows rose as his gaze raked over her body.

  Her fight, flight or freeze instinct kicked in, and she put her hands on the ground beside her, willing herself the energy to push herself to stand. The clinking sound and the heavy weight on her ankle drew her gaze downward at the links imprisoning her to this place, following the chain's path to a cemented anchor in the ground. Her eyes darted around the room then, fully taking in the surroundings of her personal cell. The buzzing was coming from the generator she had bought for their house after one too many snow storms had knocked out the power. She recognized the large metal fans that were circulating the air around the room—she had bought them for her art studio. The walls looked to be metal or aluminum, and she knew instantly what he had done. He had spoken many times over the years about making tiny homes out of storage sheds. He had promised to make one in the backyard for Lindsey as a playhouse.

  "This is all your fault, you know. You defied me one too many times. Stupid girl. If only you had been reasonable and listened to me, you wouldn't be here now. If only you had done what you were told. Why did you have to defy me? Why did you have to run? Nothing will keep me from what is mine. There is no judge, no piece of paper, nothing and no one that can stop me."

  "Lindsey! Where is Lindsey?" she screamed at the figure now standing next to her.

  "I warned you. I fucking warned you. You never learn!" He raised his arm and slapped her hard across her left cheek, her face whipping to the side from the impact. "Maybe, now, you will see that I am a man of my word!" He laughed that evil laugh that haunted her nightmares. She watched him walk to the door.

  "Better make yourself at home. You are going to be here for a very long time." Click. Click. Click. Three locks. There was not one but three locks on her prison. He was tempting nothing. Terror shot through her.

  Chapter 1

  The shrieking of the alarm awoke Doctor Bradley Murphy from a deep sleep. Groaning, he stretched his arms above his head and stretched, his stomach grumbling as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He walked into the kitchen and plopped a K-cup into his Keurig and sighed contently as the rich smell of his strong, dark roast coffee helped awaken his senses even before he took the first sip of his hot, velvety addiction. A man of habit, he broke two eggs into a hot frying pan, watching the clear turn to white before putting two pieces of whole wheat bread into the toaster. He listened to the sound of the precooked bacon sizzling in the pan. He liked his bacon extra crispy and buying it already cooked saved him time in the mornings. Soon, his eggs were ready; it didn't take long to cook over-easy eggs. He turned at the loud pop of the toaster, grabbed the toast and tossed the hot bread onto a plate before buttering it and sitting down to his breakfast. Ten minutes later, he was grabbing his gym bag and heading out the door to his local YMCA.

  Brad could afford one of the swankier gyms in town. In fact, he often had to shrug off the teasing from his buddies about the YMCA being for old people and young mothers. All joking aside, the YMCA held a special place in Brad's heart. Raised by a single mother, Brad and his younger sister, Lauren, spent every summer of their young childhood at YMCA summer camp. Brad also attended the Y's before and after school program during the school year. His first job was at the Y, and he looked back fondly at his employment there. Over the years, he had progressed from camper to camp counselor. His supervisors had become his mentors and they had saved him from some pretty big trouble his sophomore year in high school. He would never forget how much he owed them. If it hadn't been for their willingness to give him a second chance, Brad would have never made it in to the United States Marine Corps after graduation. The Y was more than just a gym to him; it was home. There were certain values that had been impressed upon Brad from a very young age, values that were honed at the YMCA and very much part of his military career. Loyalty was at the top of the list. Decades later, Brad continued to worked out five days a week at the Y and often soaked in the hot tub after an especially grueling workout—something Gold's Gym did not offer. Besides, Brad rather liked the family atmosphere. He loved seeing the small children running around in the childcare center. They made him think about his nephews, and he couldn't help but imagine having his own, someday.

  Brad had just sat at the end of the bench with his weights when he noticed the new girl working out again. The regulars all "knew" each other by sight and would say "hello" and sometimes have a bit of small talk. A new member walking in was much like waiving a red flag in front of a bull; everyone peeked up and took notice. Around the January timeframe, the place would be inundated with the "New Year's Resolution" crowd, but by Valentine's Day, it would wean out again. Normally, now, in early June, the crowd would thin tremendously. People would be on vacations or outside enjoying the sunny weather. The crowd was pretty routine this time of year and newcomers were unlikely, so Brad was sure that he wasn't the only one to have noticed her presence.

  He had noticed her for the first time a few days before while she had been working out with her personal trainer, Kimberly. He had been drawn to her strikingly beautiful, large blue eyes. They were bluer than he had ever seen before, so blue that he was convinced she was wearing colored contacts. They reminded him of a mermaid's tail, deep blue with flecks of greens and teals. The next time he saw her, she was wearing glasses, and he realized his error. She wasn't wearing co
ntacts; her eyes really were naturally that color. He had only seen her hair pulled up but noted the dark brown color and the thickness and length of the ponytail. He thought about what it would look like cascading down her back—where would it fall to? Was it straight, wavy or curly? While he could see that she had a couple extra pounds around her middle, she was proportionate and curvy in all the right places. Brad had always preferred a thicker woman. His size made smaller women too fragile to him. He guessed she stood right around five-foot-eight. Brad, being a bit of a giant at six-foot-six, appreciated the height. He had found himself scanning the room for her when he came to the gym in the mornings. He wondered if she would be one of the short-term members or if she was going to stick around for a while.

  I hope she sticks to it. Brad shook his head. What had gotten into him? She was a stranger. Brad didn't know why he was drawn to her. It wasn't something that he had ever had happen before. He was one who was generally pretty oblivious of women. He never looked for women anywhere, least of all the gym. He came to the gym, did his thing and left. When one would approach him, then he would engage with her, but he never sought them out. He wondered why his eyes kept going back to her, trailing her. It was as if she had magnetic properties or something. He tried to concentrate on his workout, but he was near enough to hear the conversation between her and Kimberly and he couldn't help but listen in. He couldn't exactly not hear their conversation, either, with how close they were standing. He found himself wishing he hadn't forgotten his headphones at home. He felt like a naughty kid eavesdropping on an adult's private conversation.