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I got this Idea while re-viewing “Forced Prospective”. For all of you who’d like 2 C Beka get hers, this you’ll love this!
PATTY CAKE
Dylan had had it. Beka’s constant second-guessing and objections were bad enough. He still hadn’t gotten over that little stunt she pulled with Tyr during the Restor attack. And that was in private! But this…this was it. The conference with the Gilderian council was supposed to be a summit of ideas. They’d contacted Dylan through former Mobius ruler Venitri, now happily rebuilding in the Halcion system. They needed a treaty with the Than in that sector because of the tense trade issue. Instead, while the conference did go well and the goal was accomplished (thanks to substituting Rommie for the second round of talks), Dylan found himself looking less than a leader due to Beka’s constant objections and opinions. He should’ve gone without Beka; he should’ve followed his first mind and taken Rommie. He’d know for next time; but it was this time and his not being able to completely save face (especially with their view of women) that irked him. He had been embarrassed, not to mention feeling even more humiliated by their patronizing him when referring to the things they did agree on.
Dylan sat back in his chair. Maybe the Gilderian councilman had a point. Maybe he’d been doing too much talking with Beka, and not enough action. The Gilderians’ body language told him that he’d lost more than face. He’d lost respect. They considered him too lenient with what they considered to be a lawless, undisciplined female who showed her contempt and lack of respect through bitchy insolence and sarcasm. In short, as the councilman had said, there are ways for objections and opinions to be stated. Women had a tendency to forget themselves and their place. A little power, like knowledge, for a woman and her superior could be deadly. Dylan suspected this was the very reason there were no female members. Dylan chuckled. He found the Gilderian logic and reasoning regarding women to be sexist and offensive; still, as regards to Beka, some of the councilman’s words did ring true. Even Tyr had mentioned this to him before. Dylan’s smile widened. He thought of Rhade knowing he’d’ve nipped the ‘insolent bitch’---as he would’ve called her---in the bud at the first occurrence of insubordination. He would’ve returned injury for injury; making her feel what he felt---and to add insult to that injury, he would give her the decency of privacy.
“I really think I should speak with Dylan.” Beka said to Rommie, who only looked at her as she paced.
“When Dylan wants to talk to you, he’ll let you know.” Rommie dead panned. She knew why Beka was so antsy. The tension between them and Dylan’s anger practically blew her away when they returned from Gilder.
“Thanks for the support.” Beka stopped pacing and faced Rommie, who made no attempt to hide her lack of sympathy.
News of Beka’s antics with Dylan and the Gilderian council were all over the women’s pages. They debate wasn’t so much on making Dylan look good or bad, but the effects of Beka’s presence; some hailed Beka for her militancy, spitfire spirit, and saucy no-nonsense delivery. There were others who recognized Dylan’s genuine respect for women that ripped Beka for her arrogance and cited her as one more male-inspired poster child for keeping women out of office and oppressed. Personally, Rommie still failed to see why it was so difficult for Beka to just keep her mouth shut; or at the very least, express her opinions or objections in private.
The two women occupied the obs deck in silence. Beka still fumed. What made Rommie such a suitable replacement? Why did she have to be replaced at all?
“Why do you always take his side?” Beka pivoted and faced Rommie. “Dylan’s personal go-bot!”
“You’re inability to display the mental discipline required to display tact and self-control doesn’t make it my fault you have no common sense.”
Beka stared.
Rommie made her point. “Even if you had an objection with a process, idea or procedure, there is a time, a place and a way to express such things.”
This is why Dylan won’t repeat the mistake of considering you to accompany him again should the need arise. Beka heard the unspoken words loud and clear; she didn’t realize her mouth was open until she went to leave, and that’s when Dylan entered.
“Can we…?” Dylan pointed outside the doors.
Beka nodded as they exited. “You’re not gonna throw me out of an airlock are you?” They paused midway.
Dylan chuckled. “I have considered it…but no; I’ve cooled sufficiently to at least attempt a conversation. “
Beka looked quizzically. She wasn’t so sure she liked the sound of that. “You said…”
“I said I’d cooled off; I didn’t say I was over it.” He paused again letting Beka enter first. Dylan shook his head at Beka’s cautious glances about the office. It was like she expected death at any moment.
“I don’t like the way I was discarded in favor of your android.” Beka got to the point.
“Well, let’s talk about the incident that made that made the substitution necessary.” Dylan motioned to one of the chairs.
Beka crossed her arms and remained standing. “This is about ego!” She took two steps and glared at him.
“This is about the old saying about what you do at home being what you do in public.”
“What?” The meaning set in as Beka was yet saying this. “You expect me to be silent, passive and submissive?”
“I expect you to have respect, use tact and have some common sense.” Dylan’s tone was even. “Did you read the brief I gave…?”
Oh so now I’m stupid. Beka raised an eyebrow.
Dylan read the gesture perfectly. “I wish you’d’ve had that reaction during the conference.”
“This is about your ego.” Beka shook her head.
“This is about your lack of respect.” Dylan corrected her. “You’ve shown none since you’ve been here. The more I try and be fair and reasonable, the more you slap me with disrespect and undermine me. And I’m sick of it.”
Beka blinked. “What if maybe you actually did something to earn my respect?”
There was a long awkward pause.
“So this is where I go to the brig?” Beka looked at Dylan. She remembered him saying the next time she countered him in public, he’d throw her in the brig to rot. Right.
“No, this is where I play patty cake.” Dylan was up and moving.
By the time Beka gasped, and attempted to flee, she found herself across Dylan’s lap. And realizing what he had in mind!
“You wouldn’t dare!” Beka squirmed. Dylan’s grip was like liquid.
“Oh, wouldn’t I?” He secured her so as to have maximum access without being hindered by her squirming.
“Dylan---!” She was cut short by the whack on her tender round bottom.
“You were saying?” Dylan’s tone remained even. He administered a blitz of whacks amid Beka’s threats, grunts and wails.
“I’m not sorry!” Beka whimpered amidst another stinging slap. She could swear her butt was numb. His hand had to hurt!
“Glad to hear it.” Dylan swatted the back of her thighs. “I’m actually enjoying this.”
There were more whimpers, gasps, grunts, and…to Dylan’s relief, sobs. This let him know he was making headway. He was beginning to wonder.
“I hate you---ouch!” Beka shouted. “I hate you bunches!”
Dylan almost laughed. “Bunches? You hate me bunches.” He flipped her easily onto her back, bringing her legs upward to a ninety-degree angle. Still no let up. Beka realized that her butt wasn’t numb at all. It was on fire! It seemed that during the initial struggle, she’d popped a few buttons on her pants. Feeling the breeze (and Dylan’s hand on almost bare flesh) made her painfully aware of this.
“You brute!” Beka whined. She wouldn’t last much longer. She felt the sting of tears and Dylan’s smoothing her scantily clad behind.
“At least you’ll think twice the next time.” Dylan started another blitz of “strokes”; this time with a hairbrush. By the time Dylan got to yet the third position, Beka was on her stomach, torso on the floor facing forward, and her blazed bottom resembled and upside-down bowl on Dylan’s lap; he was wearing out a leather strap----and Beka’s lungs. She still wasn’t sorry and how dare he. She was gonna get him.
“I can’t wait.” Dylan gave the last smack. In this position he could admire his work. And Beka’s glowing meaty globes. Perfect symmetry and nothing outside the lines or “zone”. He admired the panties---cobalt lacy silk---more than a thong, but far less than a panty. Very nice indeed. She was wearing down. He could hear it when she howled at a cool rub with wet hands. Stimulating indeed.
Beka felt herself quiver and jiggle. She was seeing threes of everything, and she was drooling for lack of let up and forgetting to swallow. Last chance. Beka went for it, pushing off his lap, but Dylan was ready for her.
“Oh no you don’t…” He’d already hooked a finger on her panties and pulled them to her juicy spot so he could start another assault; Dylan gave a swat so her legs faltered, then stood up, lifting her to a bent over position with one arm tucked under her waist. He snatched the nearby paddle for the home stretch. Here we go.
“Oh! Oh! Okay-okay-okay-okayeeee….” Beka was ballin’ full-blown. “I’m sorry…I-I-oooooo…” She pleaded, now bare-bottomed.
“I don’t know Beka…” Dylan blitzed her moist inner thighs to keep her in position.
Beka was really really sorry; she respected him… “Dylan please…Mahahhaaaa!” She balled like a baby as she bounced, quivered, jiggled and damn near slipped from Dylan’s grasp with each smack. “I-I-I be goooodddd.” She would never sit again.
Dylan still wasn’t buying it. Beka would do it again, she always did. They were back the way they started, him sitting and her over his knee. And back to tenderizing her cheeks.
“I think that’ll do it for now.” Dylan gave it a rest. He stood, easing Beka with him.
“I wi-I will.” Beka sniffled, daring not to touch her seared bottom. She just knew she could fry something on her butt. Beka stuck her tongue out at Dylan from a tear-stained face then hurried away when he gave her a look.
“Like I said, at least next time you’ll think twice.”
FIN
