Bad Girl

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Dating in the Age of the Internet

It all began a month ago when she joined Fetishers, an online dating site for kinky people. She had just passed her thirtieth birthday, one of those artificial milestones that for some people sets off an alarm, warning them that it’s later than they think. In her career Gail had progressed as far and as fast as she had any right to expect. Her personal life was another matter. She didn’t have a boyfriend, hadn’t for a long time. Dates were few and far between, s*x even rarer. But it wasn’t s*x she hungered for, not in the literal sense of the term, but rather the satisfaction of those persistent fantasies that had obsessed and tormented her practically all her life. And now that her youth was officially over the question she had to ask herself was, could she accept a life of permanent frustration?

Perhaps she would have resigned herself to it had it not been for the internet. She had only to google “spanking” to discover a multitude of sites that stoked her fantasies. And now she knew there were people out there who did more than merely fantasize, many more of them than she had imagined. And then she discovered Fetishers.

It made it seem so easy. The site offered three levels of membership. The lowest one was free. Money was not an obstacle for her but for the paying levels she would have had to use a credit card and she was paranoid about anything that might expose her identity. Free membership did possess certain disabilities. It lacked the privilege of initiating contact with other members, or examining their “profiles.” But this scarcely mattered. She preferred that the men take the initiative in contacting her. After all, the kind of man she was looking for was one who would take control. Whether anyone would contact her remained to be seen.

First she had to select a profile name. She fancied the name “badgirl” but to her dismay it was taken. Next she tried “badgirl1” but that was taken also. It was humbling to realize how lacking in originality she was, how banal and commonplace her fantasies. Still she stuck to the idea but rather than running through the entire list of natural numbers in sequence she tried appending the number 1975, the year of her birth. That worked—”badgirl1975” it would be.

Next she had to write a brief description, an ad really. Her first attempt went like this:

I’m a thirty year old professional woman. For many years I’ve fantasized about being spanked and now I’m seeking someone with experience in this area to help me turn fantasy into reality. My ideal man would be successful, preferably older than me, thoughtful and caring.

She looked at it, read it over and over again. Somehow it didn’t feel quite right. It was good as far it goes but ... but what? Just as there were other women who had chosen similar monikers, there were must be others with similar desires. It was them with whom she would be competing for attention. If she were to go to a singles bar looking to be picked up, something she had actually never done, she wouldn’t go without putting on makeup and dressing in a manner that was sexy and signalized her availability. If she was going to do this, she had to go all in, do what it took to arouse the kind of man she was interested in. Finally she arrived at this:

I’m a bad girl who needs to be punished, preferably over the knee with my panties down. I’m looking for a dominant man, an authority figure, successful, preferably older than myself but not too old. I have a responsible job and therefore discretion is essential.

There it was—the boiled down essence of her fantasy. She read it over and over again, concluding at last that it could not be improved upon. Next she had to fill out some checklists. She started with the easy ones: She was, obviously, a woman who was looking for a man. Her s****l Orientation was straight, her Role submissive, her Experience was, alas, none. Her Race was Caucasian, Hair brown, Eyes hazel, Height five feet five inches, Breast size (yes, they asked that) 36C. She didn’t wear glasses or contacts, didn’t smoke, was a light, social drinker and didn’t take drugs. The most anxiety producing category was Body Type. She chose to describe herself as “average.” To be sure she was neither fat nor excessively thin. She didn’t much like her body, but as an objective description “average” seemed to fit. One question she decided to leave blank was Relationship Goal. She honestly didn’t know how to answer that at this point. Finally there was a long list of fetishes to check off, some remarkably arcane. Breath play? Electro torture? Not for her. Naturally she checked off “spanking.” She also decided to check off “bondage.” She was not averse to being tied up while spanked. Also in the list were Oral s*x and Anal s*x. (Old fashioned p***s-into-v****a s*x was not listed. You couldn’t call that a fetish or else most of the population would be kinksters.) Here she hesitated. She didn’t want to appear too unadventurous but anal s*x frightened her. After some thought she decided to uncheck “bondage” and leave it as just “spanking.” If it made her appear single-minded in her interests then all the better. She was here because she wanted to be spanked, plain and simple. She reread the Description one more time, then clicked the button to submit her profile. She, or rather “badgirl1975” was now officially a member of Fetishers.

Immediately she logged off. She waited until the next evening to check for responses. She had been prepared for there not being any, but already there were a dozen messages in her Inbox. But elation soon turned to disappointment as she read them. Some of the men were too old, some too young and clearly inexperienced, and others simply assholes, like the self-styled MasterofWomen who “ordered” her to provide nude photos front and back and promised that if she passed muster he would give her instructions about reporting for punishment. She checked the site again next evening and found ten additional messages. This time there was potential gold amidst the dross. The message read as follows:

badgirl1975

I read your profile with interest. I’m a forty year old lawyer with my own practice and have a great deal of experience chastising naughty ladies. If you wish to pursue this further I’ll be happy to send you a link to my website. After you’ve had a chance to check me out, if you’re still interested send me your cell phone number and we’ll arrange to have a chat. I look forward to hearing from you.

Mr. Roth

She checked his profile. It was somewhat sparse. There was no photo, which some of the men had included, and the Description merely stated that he was an attorney with his own practice and an experienced Dominant looking for women who enjoyed corporal punishment. For fetish interests he checked only spanking, bondage, domination, anal s*x and oral s*x. Even the physical description was spare; he described himself as six foot two with an “athletic” build. Nothing wrong there! It seemed as though the profile had been put together hastily and without a lot of care. But his message to her was clear enough. It struck the right tone. She quickly responded with a message of her own:

Mr. Roth:

I am definitely interested and look forward to receiving that link.

badgirl1975

The next evening she received his reply:

badgirl1975:

Here is the link you requested. [link] Do you have a name other than badgirl1975 by which I can address you?

Mr. Roth

Gail eagerly clicked on the link, which took her to the home page of, as stated in large letters:

Michael J. Roth, Esq.

Patent Attorney

His photo appeared on the left hand side. He was extremely handsome, with broad shoulders and wavy brown hair and looked younger than forty, though possibly the picture was a few years old. She studied the face. There was something reassuring about it. It wasn’t the face of a maniac who would kidnap her and lock her in his cellar. Biographical information included that he had graduated from MIT, went on to earn a Master’s Degree in chemistry, worked five years for a major industrial firm, studied law at night, then opened his own practice as a patent attorney.

So far, so good, but was it real? Gail googled his name. The first entry was his website, the next the online version of a standard legal directory. She entered his name in the directory’s search engine. The information on his website checked out. There was one more thing she could do—check out the address listed on the website. Using MapQuest she determined that it was only a mile from her own downtown office. The next day after work she walked over there. It was a twenty-story Art Deco building probably dating from the 1920s. Men and women in business attire were still exiting the building. She headed for the building directory. Scanning it, she came upon his name—his office was in Suite 1214. That was enough. She didn’t need to go up there. That evening she sent him a message:

Mr. Roth:

I checked out your website. You have a very impressive background. Here is my cell phone number: [number] Could you give me an idea when you might call, so I can arrange to be alone? I’ll check tomorrow evening for messages.

Jenny

Giving a phony name was possibly an excess of caution. What could anyone do with just a first name? Still, she rather liked the idea of adopting a nom de plume (or should it be nom de spank?). She was embarking on an adventure and it seemed appropriate to adopt a new identity for her new, secret life.

His next message said he’d call her next evening between ten and eleven. She was lying in bed reading at 10:45 when the phone rang. She picked it up and said “Hello?”

“Hello Jenny. This is Mr. Roth.”

“Hello Mr. Roth.”

“You have a nice voice, Jenny.”

“Thank you, Mr. Roth. You do too.”

“Well so much for the pleasantries. Now that you know something about me, I’d like to know a little more about you.”

“What would you like to know?”

“Let’s start with what you do.”

“You mean what kind of work I do?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a Financial Analyst specializing in Risk Management.”

“Risk Management. Interesting that you would choose that. I sense that you’re a cautious person. And now you’ve decided to throw caution to the wind.”

She laughed. “Not exactly, Mr. Roth. I haven’t told you my full name or where I live or where I work. Maybe when I get to know you better...”

“Of course. I understand. You want to feel safe.”

“Yes, and I also have my career to think about. This is not something I want to become public knowledge.”

“Of course. Let me ask you this—how long have you been interested in spanking?”

“I can’t remember exactly when I began thinking about it. I imagine it was sometime around puberty. I don’t remember anything specifically triggering it off. I wasn’t spanked as a child.”

“What about boyfriends? Did you ever try to get them to spank you?”

“No, I never had the nerve to ask.”

“That’s not at all unusual, Jenny. Most women find it difficult to ask. So what made you finally decide to do something about it?”

“Turning thirty.” He chuckled. “It’s true, Mr. Roth. Over the years I’ve become more and more obsessed by these fantasies. And turning thirty I had to ask myself, was I going to spend the rest of my life being frustrated, not daring to, how shall I say it, fulfill my innermost desires?”

“So as a good risk manager you weighed the risks and decided they were small in comparison to the eventual rewards.”

She laughed. “Yes, Mr. Roth. That’s an excellent way of putting it.”

“And then, of course, there was the internet.”

“It does make things a lot easier.”

“Although before that there were personal ads in newspapers and magazines.”

“I did sometimes read the ads in some of those ‘alternative’ papers. But it was a lot easier to create a profile on Fetishers and wait for the replies.”

“Did you get a lot of replies?”

“A couple of dozen. And that’s in only two days.”

“And how many did you reply to?”

“Just yours.”

“So what was it about mine that attracted your interest.”

“Well, you seemed to be what I was looking for, a professional man, tall, just the right age. I liked the tone of your message—straightforward, professional, not at all bombastic. You should read some of the messages I got. Guys giving me orders like I was already their slave.”

“Uh huh. Typical wannabes.”

“That’s just what I thought, Mr. Roth. I was also impressed by your willingness to send me that link. Your background is very impressive.”

“Thank you.”

“After viewing your website I looked you up in a legal directory. I even stopped by your building to check the directory there.”

“Very smart. You wanted to make sure I was real.”

“Also I liked your photo. You’re very handsome.”

“Well thank you, Jenny.”

“Another thing I liked was that you didn’t ask me for a photo. Most of the guys did. A couple of guys even asked for nude photos.”

“Would that have been a problem? I don’t mean about the nude photos.”

“Well, I can understand why guys would want it. Many of them have photos attached to their profiles. But I have a good job and a career to think of. Some guy on Fetishers might even work for my company. He could even be one of the managers.”

“Of course. I think you’re a very sensible woman, Jenny.”

“Thank you, Mr. Roth. You know, Mr. Roth, I feel comfortable with you already. I’ll even send you a photo if you want.”

“That’s very kind of you, Jenny, but it’s not necessary. There’s one other thing we have to discuss. You left out your Relationship Goal. I want to make clear that I’m not looking for what people call a relationship, whether long-term or short-term. What I mean by that is that we may meet once, or we may meet fifty times or even more, but we won’t be ‘dating.’ We’ll be meeting just for the one thing. Is that okay?”

“Yes, Mr. Roth. That’s more or less what I had in mind. I guess I just have this itch I want to scratch.”

“That’s a good way of putting it. There’s one other thing. I’m actually in a relationship. It’s a vanilla relationship, I mean I have a vanilla girlfriend. She knows about my kink and accepts it. She just doesn’t want to be the object of it.”

“I see. That’s very interesting. She sounds like a very open-minded person.”

“She is. You’re not disappointed are you?”

“I guess not. It’s probably best not to go into this thing with exaggerated expectations. I want to be spanked, that’s all. I might not even like it. But then at least I’ll know.”

“That’s very sensible. Of course you might like it very much. I hope so. My point is that if you’re looking for a boyfriend I’m not the man. If our first meeting is a success and we both decide to carry on, you should think of me not as a boyfriend but rather as your disciplinarian.”

“My disciplinarian. That has a nice ring to it.”

“I thought you’d like that. One other thing. I’m pleased that you’re addressing me as ‘Mr. Roth.’ I don’t want you to ever address me by my first name. You can call me ‘Mr. Roth’ or you can call me ‘Sir,’ as you please. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mr. Roth, Sir, it’s clear. So, uh, where do we go from here?”

“I suggest we meet at a hotel. There’s a Sheraton near the airport. Do you know it?”

“No. I don’t travel much.”

“How about a week from Friday? I’ll book a room.”

“Okay.”

“Now, you wouldn’t object if I asked you to dress in a certain way?”

“No, I guess not. What do you have in mind?”

“I’ll send you a text, or an email through Fetisher.”

“Okay.”

“Anything else?”

“No, Sir.”

“Then I’ll see you a week from Friday.”

With that he hung up.