Body Politics by Cara Bristol

his knee and wanted her to want to be there. Spanking fit their lifestyle of working hard and playing harder. It brought out and fed his need for dominance. Gradually it dovetailed with what was happening with his career. As he rose through police department ranks, he began to desire similar leadership and responsibility at home.
    But the less he wanted to party, the more Ronnie wanted to. She’d become more irresponsible—with money, with time, with her own job. He’d learned of domestic discipline and suggested it as a solution to their discord. She reluctantly complied. Twice. Then she informed him she was done with spanking and with him. He vowed to establish domestic discipline as the core of any future relationship right at the beginning.
    “Oh.” Stephanie took a large gulp of her drink and then choked.
    He followed her gaze to see Otis and Liz Davenport wending in their direction.
    “Th-that’s Elizabeth!” She stiffened, every muscle going rigid as astonishment shifted to comprehension. “She knew about you!” she gasped.
    Liz looked lovely in a simple black sheath dress and understated silver jewelry; Otis appeared as distinguished as always. He was at least fifteen years older than his wife, but except for the gray lightening his temples, you’d never know it. They had married when she was still in college, but unlike Ronnie, she had embraced domestic discipline wholeheartedly.
    “Hey, you two! I was hoping I’d see you here!” Elizabeth beamed.
    Mark kissed her cheek and shook Otis’s hand.
    “Steph, this is my husband, Otis. Honey, this is Stephanie Gordon, the administrator of Women Act Now.”
    Stephanie shifted her drink for the greeting. “Nice to meet you,” she deadpanned.
    “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, sounding as sincere as she had wooden.
    Otis glanced at Mark, then around the room. “This is going well, I think.”
    “It’s a nice mix.” Mark assessed the people, noting the number of guests identified by white badges.
    “Exposure by the Sentinel turned out to be a positive thing. It forced us to do a little self-analysis,” Otis said.
    “Before the article, no one other than members was permitted inside the mansion.” Liz directed her comment to Stephanie.
    “We operated in secrecy,” Otis added. “Now, we’re coming into the light, as much as our positions in the community allow.” He looked at Liz. “Would you like a drink?”
    “Please,” she said.
    “The usual?”
    She smiled. “The usual.”
    Otis shouldered through the crowd, which had grown since Mark and Stephanie first arrived. People greeted him with handshakes.
    “Otis is the president of Rod and Cane,” Mark explained.
    Liz turned to Stephanie. “No one at the law office knows I’m a member of the Wives Auxiliary.”
    “So keep your secret, is that what you’re saying?” Stephanie’s tone was harsh.
    Liz blinked.
    “Stephanie…” Mark warned.
    “I don’t understand how you can be so hypocritical to pretend to support women’s rights publicly, while privately you endorse domestic discipline. You’re living a lie.”
    “I’m living my truth. For me, domestic discipline creates intimacy. For other women, it doesn’t. Isn’t feminism about having options?”
    “You should have told me! You deliberately omitted key information. Just because you might want to be spanked doesn’t mean I do.” Stephanie gulped her Bottom Burner.
    “That isn’t why I fixed you two up. I thought you would be a good match. That your personalities would complement each other’s. You’re a strong person, but he’s stronger, and you need someone to lean on a little. Mark could be your rock. You could be his soft place to fall.”
    “I don’t need a rock!” Stephanie glared at Liz.
    Liz was right in one respect: he could be Stephanie’s fortress of protection and security. However, Mark wasn’t sure he needed “a soft place to fall.” That made him sound weak. But whatever her reasoning,