Disciplined Date

By Mark S. R. Sterling

Nikki is torn between two powerful men who seek to control her life.

Mobster Lenny Fusco wants to go straight.  Using his knowledge of her past, Lenny coerces Nikki into helping him develop a fetish dating website.  This legitimate business matches couples together based on their sexual fetish compatibility.  However, a serial killer has found this fertile ground to hunt spanko victims.  When his clients start getting murdered and the police are helpless to solve the case, Lenny wants to take matters into his own hands.

Homicide detective Carl Howard knows that the investigation into the murder of the naked woman on the floor will be far from routine.  He recognizes her bare bottom – she was once draped across his lap at the spanking club.  As her killer prepares to strike again, the investigation will expose Carl’s own secret life – his relationship with Nikki.

Each man needs Nikki’s help and they will put her over their knee -panties down - to get it.  Nikki must decide which man’s discipline to accept.

This is a fast paced erotic murder mystery with loads of spankings and sex.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark S. R. Sterling
• Release date: Nov 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781502277015

Mark S. R. Sterling

Mark S. R. Sterling is a semi-retired industrial safety engineer who left full time employment during the recent surge in unemployment.  {Yes, you may read between the lines.}  Now, when not actually gainfully employed, he spends his time trading stock market index options, or traveling and visiting his children in the I-95 Corridor along the US Southeast coast. Mark’s entertainment is the ocean.  He enjoys the beach, sailing, fishing, scuba diving and the ever popular barstool warming in waterfront taverns.  It is in this last activity where he enjoys his all time favorite pastime of simply meeting people.  You see, while Mark’s stories are fictional, the specific incidents and characters are built from somebody’s real life. So the next time you are in a waterfront tavern and someone engages you in conversation open up and tell something interesting about your life.  Then, you will be a character in Mark’s next book.

Book preview

The cover art was created using www.selftpubbookcovers.com.  Book cover credit and thanks go to: SelfPubBookCovers.com/warren

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Note: This story contains scenes with violence, spanking, erotic sex acts and anal play – of dubious consent.  If these images offend you, don’t buy this book

Sunday January 12, 1 p.m.

Nikki, I stop chewing my bite of tuna sandwich and look up to Mary Margret as she stands in the doorway of the break room.  I’m sorry, she continues, there’s another one in Room 6.

Some intestinal bug made the rounds through the schools last week and its incubation period is up.  Today we are overrun with sick children, all with the same symptoms – high fever, nausea, and diarrhea.  The hospital emergency room has a prohibitively long wait time and has been encouraging the less severe cases to visit us.  Using my Associates Nursing license, I work in this Urgent Care Clinic while I continue my PhD studies in behavioral psychology.  Since my undergraduate degree is in child psychology, I am always asked to give the painful injections to the kids.

Mary Margret, seeing that I am in mid-bite, reconsiders her request, Never mind, Nikki.  I’m sorry.  You go ahead and finish your lunch.  I’ll take care of this one.

No, I say impolitely talking around the food in my mouth.  She waits while I quickly chew, swallow and then say, I’ll do it.  Really, I enjoy working with the kids.  Most of the sick children have been sent home with oral antibiotics, but this is the third one today with sufficiently severe symptoms to require a faster acting injection.

Mary Margret put the tray with the paperwork and the injection materials on the table and I re-wrapped my sandwich and put it in the refrigerator.  After washing my hands, I pick up the papers and read the specifics – seven year old male, Alexander Fusco.  I read on, confirming the symptoms, doctor’s orders, date of birth, etc.  And then I confirm that the contents of the tray match the doctor’s order and that the batch number for the antibiotic has not expired.  Finally, I take the tray to exam room number six and knock on the door; I enter without waiting for a response.

The boy lying on the table initially looks rather lethargic from the fever and dehydration.  However, upon seeing me a cloud of fear passes over his face.  Perhaps he has already been told that he is to get a shot.  Quickly I place the tray on the counter to one side and draw his gaze to me, away from the painful looking hypodermic needle.

Resting my hand on his forehead as a mother might check for an elevated temperature I begin, Alexander, I’m so sorry you are feeling badly today.  I’m not in any way attempting to gauge his temperature, just trying to be reassuring, and distracting his attention away from the needle.  However, he is clearly burning up with fever.  You are Alexander Fusco, is that correct?  I’m staring into his eyes, holding his gaze on my face, but I can see his mother standing on the other side of table in my peripheral vision.  She begins to answer, but I wave her off and wait for the boy to answer.

Yes ma’am.

Do you go by Alexander or Alex?

Alex

Wonderful and when is your birthday?  He repeats the date that I read on the paperwork which was only two days ago.

Wow, and you’ve just had a birthday.  Seven years old...wow, I say warmly.  He smiles and relaxes; the fear ebbs from his face.  We want you to feel better as quickly as possible, but to do that I will have to give you a shot.  You’ve had a shot before, haven’t you?

Yes ma’am, the cloud returns.

Well...we’re going to be very careful to be as painless as possible and you can help by relaxing all of your muscles.  You are a strong young man so I know that may be difficult.  Reaching into the tray I open two alcohol swabs, a band-aid, retrieve a cotton ball and put on the gloves.  This shot will have to go into your back side, I pat him on the hip, so I need you to loosen your jeans and scoot them down some, and then roll over and look at your mother.  I look directly toward her for the first time; the middle aged dark haired woman looks to be more afraid than the boy.  I broaden my smile hoping she gets the idea before he turns to look at her.  She does struggle to smile, but not very convincingly.

The boy inches his pants down and then embarrassingly reaches for the waistband of his underwear.  No, you don’t need to do that.  I’ll take care of it, I say to him and lift on his shoulder so that he will roll to the other side.  I pull down his underwear exposing several inches of pale bottom flesh and begin with the first alcohol wipe.  "As the song says...at times like this it is helpful to think of your favorite things.  How does the song go – Raindrops on roses and...something on kittens – I seem to have forgotten.  What is it on kittens?"  I begin the second alcohol wipe.

Whiskers, he says.

"OH YES, that’s right!  Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens; Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, I sing as I slip the needle into his bottom and smoothly inject the antibiotic.  These are a few of my favorite things."  I pull out the needle and press the cotton ball to the injection sight.

You skipped a verse, he says.

Oh, so I did, I remove the cotton ball and attach the band-aid, Can you sing it?

"Brown paper packages tied up with strings."

That’s right.  Well, I wish I had time to sing the rest of the song with you, but there are so many sick children today that I really must be going.  You did great.  I pull his underpants back into place.  "It was really great meeting you.  I’m sure that you will be feeling better in no time.  Maybe...just maybe you will even feel like going to school Monday."  He rolls onto his back and I wink at him.

I don’t think so, he says and returns the wink.

I look up to his mother and say, Mrs. Fusco, the other nurse, Mary Margret, will be here in a moment to get you checked-out. 

Picking up the tray I turn around toward the door and that is when I see the boy’s father for the first time.  I had been aware of his presence in my peripheral vision, but had not looked at him.  Now my eyes lock onto the face of Lenny and his Cheshire cat toothy grin.  I freeze as he extends his hand to touch my name badge.

Thank you...Nurse Nikki, he says slowly and lets his tongue wipe over his lips.

Yes, I nod toward him and quickly reach for the doorknob, but he is already there and grips it first.  Dropping my hand and standing back I watch the grin on his face morph into a devilish smirk as he slowly opens the door.  As soon as the crack is wide enough, I dart out and quickly duck back into the break room. 

Trying to stop my hands from shaking, I pass the tray back to Mary Margret.  Please, can you finish up?  I seem to be having a low blood sugar attack, and I turn to hide my face in the refrigerator.

Leonard Fusco, aka Lenny, is a gangster.  A few years ago, I worked for him.  I hadn’t recognized the name ‘Fusco’ because nobody ever called him anything other than Lenny.

While I didn’t know it at the time, I was working for Lenny when I took a modeling job at the Victoria’s Surprise Modeling Agency.  I had been a 19-year old starving college sophomore and I was apparently the only person in town who did not ‘get’ the innuendo within the agency’s name.  I had signed a contract to model underwear, though I had thought it was for photos that would appear in magazine ads and catalogs.  What really happened was a continuous string of ‘auditions’ where I would model skimpy underwear and other lingerie for middle aged men.  I was well paid, but there were no photographs published in any magazine ads.

Lenny owned the modeling agency and in addition to its purpose of peddling soft porn, it funneled girls into his prostitution stable.  When I finally figured out the whole business, I tried to quit.  This was when I learned that I was in the mob and one does not quit the mob.  All I succeeded in doing was attracting the unwanted attention of Lenny directly upon me.  From that point on, I was in even deeper.

Mostly he used me as an attractive distraction to entertain his gangster colleagues.   However, after one session I learned that the man I had been entertaining was later murdered.  I sucked in my courage and went to the police.  The information that I passed to the police resulted in the breakup of an international drug deal and ultimately the revenge hit on Lenny’s boss.  Following this the police Organized Crime Unit went through the local crime family like a hot knife through butter.  Those mobsters not arrested had scampered away and I escaped Lenny’s clutches in the ensuing chaos. 

Now, the knowledge that Lenny once again knows where to find me is terrifying. 

Sunday January 12, 4 p.m.

An hour after the scheduled end of my shift I finally make it out the door and head for my car.  My baby blue Toyota is waiting in the parking lot.  As I approach my driver’s side door, the passenger door of the black Escalade in the adjacent parking spot opens and Emil steps out blocking the path to my car door.

Hello Nikki, great to see you again, he says and smiles.  Emil is a goon working for Lenny and he had been my handler for the auditions.  Looking around for an escape route I see Mary Margret across the parking lot, but she only waves and turns away before I can call out to her.  After a moment Emil continues, "Lenny wants to talk with you," his emphasis is unmistakable.  I turn to run back into the building, but another man walks from behind the Escalade and blocks my exit.  I don’t know his name, but I recognize him as one of the young men working for Lenny.  Lenny has a squad of young, lean men working for him.

Pinned between the two cars I turn back to Emil.  I’m not getting in the car with you, I say as defiantly as possible.  Been there, done that...and I’ve gotten the bruises to prove it.  I’m not doing it again.  Every other time I had been called to talk with Lenny I’d lost my pants.

Easy Nikki, the giant of a man displays his empty hands in an open disarming gesture, we’re a kinder gentler organization now.  But no matter - you can drive yourself to see Lenny.  He is in his new office at the Sugar Baby’s Modeling Agency.  Do you know where that is?

No

Oh...it’s on Pioneer Avenue between 10th and 11th Streets...on the right coming from this direction.  Think you can find it?

Yes, I say wondering how I can escape.

Good, we’ll follow you there.  He steps back clearing the path to my car door.  I press the unlock button on the key bob and he opens the door for me.  I slip into the car seat fully intending to drive in the opposite direction – fast. But Emil holds the door open.  Leaning into my face his broad, bent nose comes dangerously close to mine.  As I wonder who broke his nose he says, "I’m serious about being kinder.  You don’t have anything to worry about.  However...I want you to know...now is not the time to do anything stupid."  He spits out the last word as though it were a curse.

Yeah, right – I’ve heard that before.  However, Lenny and most certainly Emil now know where to find me and they are not ones to cross.  No matter how fast I drive away, Emil will follow me.  I don’t have any choice but to do what he says.  Hoping for the best, I nod my agreement.

*********

Four years ago, when I attempted to quit Victoria’s Surprise, it was Emil who came to fetch me.  I hadn’t actually met him before that, but I had seen him around the Agency office and the auditions several times.  Being afraid of what I had come to understand to be the Agency’s true purpose, I had not gone into the office to hand in a resignation or anything like that; I had simple decided not to show up for any more auditions.  I figured they would quickly forget