Perversion Process Read Online Free PDF

and we found ourselves discussing work and traffic and the weather as if we were already friends.
    „So how did you find me?‟ he asked, halfway through the glass, the change of tone so abrupt that I sloshed a little of the wine over the rim.
    „Well … Google …‟ I said. Suddenly my breathing was not coming so easily and I wanted to fold my arms over my chest and look away from his eyes, which had been kind and were now piercing.
    „Google, eh? I wonder what search term might have led to me?‟
    „Oh,‟ I laughed, very nervously. „Something silly …
    and embarrassing.‟
    „Tell me.‟
    26

    This wasn‟t light conversation any more. I felt as if I was in the witness box undergoing rigorous cross-examination. I bit my lip.
    „When I ask you a question, young lady, I expect an answer.‟
    Oh, that did it. That opened the thigh-top floodgates all right, that „young lady‟. Even though I could not have been more than a couple of years younger than him.
    „Well, I think it was … oh God, I can‟t believe I‟m saying this …erm … “bad girls need a spanking”.‟ I lifted my eyes to the ceiling in mortification.
    „No, look at me. Good girl. That must have been difficult for you to say, but you said it all the same. I appreciate your honesty and courage.‟
    I basked in this stranger‟s approval, utterly transfixed by the effortless power he radiated. Had I really thought to question his authority? It seemed ridiculously blind of me now to have done so. I adjusted my frame of mental reference: quiet and low-key do not equate to easy-going and submissive.
    „So you‟re a bad girl, are you?‟ he asked next, sipping at his drink.
    „Sometimes.‟
    „You think you need a spanking?‟
    „That‟s, ah, why I‟m here.‟
    He nodded, accepting my little hint of snark without rancour.
    „Of course. It‟s why you‟re here. And this bad girl, Kat … is she bad a lot, or is this a one-off situation?
    Because I can deal with either scenario. A conscience-cleanser, so you can move forward with your life … or a more long-term mentorship arrangement. Which do you think would be most appropriate for you?‟
    Good question. „I … well. I seem to never learn from 27

    my mistakes. I think I need something a little stronger than the possibility of everything going pear-shaped … to influence my decision-making. A deterrent. Stop me doing all the same things. Drinking too much and getting off with the wrong people. Slacking off at work and getting more and more disorganised. It‟s like, I can sort myself out for a few weeks, and then I start sliding again.‟
    The idea of this man being a mentor … a disciplinarian mentor … oh God. I was so wet now that I feared for the leather of the sofa. Would he spank me even harder if I messed up his furniture?
    „Right,‟ he said, and he stood up, took off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves. I forgot to breathe, my wine glass frozen in my hand, watching him like a tiny mouse in the sights of a raptor. „If this goes well for you, then, Kat, perhaps we can come to a more formal arrangement. But first, I need you to put down that glass and fetch the straight-backed chair from the corner, please.‟
    My chest decompressed in an undignified rush. I rose on shaky legs and went to fetch the chair, which was plain old-fashioned wood with a very high back and no arms, in the Shaker style, I suppose, though I‟m not sure that‟s still in fashion. I could imagine Professor Strict – or whatever his real name was – as the preacher of some old-time religion, thumping the Bible in a kitchen with a similar light oak finish. Sending the girls outside to cut switches: oh yes, he had that look.
    Shaker style was apt, because I was shaking, nay quaking, with the enormity of what I was doing. This was really happening. I could leave. I didn‟t have to go through with it.
    But he took my elbow, firmly but not painfully, seated himself on the austere chair of