The Disciplinarian

By Sadie Stern

Excerpt from The Disciplinarian

‘So, let me be clear, you would expect evenings in, seated in front of the television, even making love naked in front of a blazing log fire. Where I whisper sweet nothings into your ear? This relationship would be unique to us to the exclusion of all others?’ Joanne nodded.

‘You asked me to describe a loving relationship as I saw it? Yes, that is it in a nutshell!’ Grayson didn’t replay but stood and cleared the remnants of the main course away, collecting everything and leaving the room. Joanne had no doubt the evening and its success had just reached a defining moment, in fact it was far more, their whole future together now hung in the balance. He quickly returned with cheesecake and a carafe of strong coffee. After a brief period of silence, he gave his response.

‘You do realise what you are asking of me. I have to tell my clients I am no longer able to help them, leaving me feeling I have let them down?’ Joanne interrupted quickly.

‘I’m not asking you to do anything of the sort. I just need you to stop fucking them!’ She left that to sink in briefly, then added for good measure. ‘I don’t see why you need to beat women either, for their short comings. I hated letting you down when you placed so much faith in me. Trust me, that was almost as bad as the spankings you inflicted. I’m sure all those women who have also visited you, barring the occasional masochist, felt the same. I might be forgiven for sensing you did this for your own sexual gratification, beating a woman then having them kneel so you could view your work, no wonder you got such a glorious erection Sir!’ She knew she had delivered her message totally and she had no idea what was going to happen next

Two women, both having suffered a terrible day, meet by chance on the same bus taking them home. One woman, a teenage student at a local college, is tearful and the other older woman offers comfort. They leave the bus together and head for a nearby pub where the younger woman pours out her heart. Both women are lonely and the older woman offers a home to her new found friend. She herself has problems too, which results in her visiting an older man who has taught her to be self-reliant, using methods which have left her dependent on him. She now has a decision to make, especially as these meetings are soon to end, does she continue to see him in a different, but still far too distant capacity, or does she see how a relationship of a very different nature develops.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sadie Stern
• Release date: Dec 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005946708

Sadie Stern

I'm Sadie Stern and I write short stories and novellas which focus on BDSM, and LGBT themes. I became interested in BDSM in my late teens, with my first experience while I was at university. I write about strong lesbian women because they feature heavily in my life. I've been in the scene in a professional sense and I write freely about my experiences. Please note, all charcters in my books are 18 or over in appropriate situations within each story.You can find all my books and those of other writing colleagues at https://www.texshirebooks.com

Book preview

Copyright © 2012 Sadie Stern 2021

The right of Sadie Stern to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act 1988

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

Contents

The Disciplinarian

Also, by this Author

Visit the website

About this Author

About Texshire Books

The Disciplinarian

Joanne Carter looked at her watch. It would soon be time to leave work and that day she couldn’t get away fast enough. It had been a day from hell where everything had gone wrong. She’d attended a sales meeting where it had been announced, a major sale had gone to a competitor. Nearly six months work putting together a competitive bid had come to nothing, the fact that she was the project manager in charge of the sales team which presented the rejected offer was why a dozen pairs of eyes had stared at her critically was bad enough, but when the verbal criticism had started it was as much as Joanne could bear. The meeting had moved on but the glances remained and she knew the greatest criticism would come from her boss the following morning.

Joanne left on time. What was there to stay for that afternoon. Her leaving that day, at the end of her allotted hours was unusual, normally she would have been seen working late, burning midnight oil. She’d consumed at lot of that of late. Home would be reached on a thirty-minute bus ride and it didn’t take long to reach the bus stop where she joined a queue of people waiting to make the same journey.

Half a mile away, Karen Jennings was leaving college by the student entrance. She was in tears. Those had been created and were still being shed after a difficult meeting with her tutor. The results of a recent examination had been published and her marks were poor once again, she was struggling anyway and this was the latest in a long line of setbacks. Her tutor had made it clear, if her performance didn’t improve soon her future at the college was to be short lived. As she walked out to catch the bus home, Karen knew worse awaited her there. Her parents had been critical of her decision to attend college, that her ambition to be a graphic designer was way above her station in life. She needed a job and that meant working in an office or even the local supermarket not swanning around on some college course at eighteen. Karen knew the pressure on her to leave and join the rat race would be even more intense now. The bus stop was right outside the main college building and she joined the queue.

Grayson Barton was checking his diary. He did this frequently, knowing any names which came up, signalled the preparation of a notification which had to go out that day. His diary was a thick volume, it had many names written inside in his neat handwriting. Grayson was a man in his mid-fifties, he was tall and fit and he had a formidable presence, not least because of his silver-grey hair which he’d allowed to grow almost to shoulder length. He looked at the single name which appeared on the page for that day - Joanne Carter. It was time for her to attend for a routine visit.

Karen turned and looked up at the college she had attended for nearly a year. Art was her favourite subject and when she enrolled on a three-year course, with a qualification her main goal at the end, she imagined most of her time would be spent expressing herself drawing and using vibrant colours to form abstract images with shadow and form as its bedrock. Sadly, all she had met so far was theory and her main tormentor, computer graphics. This wasn’t her thing at all, but it seemed to be at the forefront of everything she was asked to learn? It’s the future she was told, so much could be achieved by the powerful graphics software. There lay the issue, she didn’t want her creativity carried out by a machine, she wanted to use her own fertile mind, have her thoughts transferred onto paper with her own hands, holding a 4B pencil, a stick of charcoal or a squirrel haired brush dipped in vibrant watercolour or acrylic paint. That was the divide, it seemed like she was on the far bank of a fast-flowing river. She was alone on one side, while her tutor and everyone else was lined up on the other side looking over at her, some even laughing at the alien on the other side. There was no bridge. There was a boat, but that was moored up on the other side. Her tutor had more or less told her she needed to make her own way across, but in her heart, Karen knew this wasn’t even possible because she couldn’t swim. Just then her bus arrived and she got on board. Two people had vacated seats near the front so she sat down, glancing once more at her college as the bus pulled away.

Joanne could see the bus appearing in the far distance. Her phone bleeped as an email arrived. She expected it to be from her boss, summoning her to a post mortem meeting the following day. Her initial thought was to ignore it, but as the bus was still a minute or so away, she decided to find out who had sent the message. It wasn’t what she had expected, it was from someone, who in her busy, mind-filled state of late, she had forgotten about. Joanne closed her eyes, she knew what the message would say, a telephone call would have to be made and an appointment arranged within the next two days. Such arrangements, involving a visit were compulsory, that was if they were to continue. Joanne groaned. On top of everything else this was the last thing she needed. The bus pulled up, Joanne closed her phone and boarded the bus.

The bus was pretty full on the lower deck. She hated the stairs leading to the upper deck. She pulled out her Oyster card and paid her fare then looked for a seat. There was one just ahead next to a young woman who looked distressed. As a result, passengers were avoiding sitting beside her. Joanne wasn’t in such apparent despair, although she too could have sat down and howled. Maybe the girl needed help? Joanne felt she was kind hearted, maybe to a fault. She could never say no. Perhaps she wasn’t suited to sales after all, and had she had a more ruthless nature she might have secured the failed bid. Joanne moved next to the girl who seemed almost fearful and shrank away, turning her head to look out of the window. Joanne waited for