Punishing The Players (Spiritual Discipline Book 1)

  Table of Contents

  Punishing the Players | Ivy Barrett

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

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  Punishing the Players

  Ivy Barrett

  Katie has spent the past five years fantasizing about her sexy neighbors, Josiah and Chase. They’re wild, sexually adventurous, and completely unconcerned with society’s expectations. Basically, they’re everything she’s not. Then a mysterious stranger tells her that she’s the target of their latest competition. According to Fyn, Josiah and Chase will try to seduce her and the first one to succeed wins the ridiculous bet.

  Seductive and wily, Fyn entices Katie into playing a game of her own. With Fyn’s help, she’ll become the perfect submissive, the sort of partner even these ruthless players won’t be able to resist. Then she’ll publicly reject them and expose their heartless competition to everyone they know. Armed with insight and newfound confidence, she surrenders to their every desire. She bares her curvy body and submits to painful and humiliating punishments that leave her breathless and aching for more of their harsh discipline, and dizzying pleasure.

  As Katie is drawn deeper into this web of lies, she finds herself doubting everything and everyone. She’s not sure who she can trust and she’s worried that a broken heart will be her only reward for participating in Fyn’s wild scheme to punish the players.

  Note from the author: This book was contracted by my former publisher right before it shut down. The book was never released, but the ARCs were distributed. So there is a very small chance a few of my readers saw it in its original form. It has been extensively revised and expanded, so I hope you’ll give this version a chance. I like it much better and think you will too.

  Prologue

  Torn between frustration and boredom, Fyn meandered around the rooftop patio. Moonlight shimmered on the rippling surface of the swimming pool and reflected the stars high above. He savored the beauty for a moment, allowing the tranquil image to soothe him. Then he moved to the far corner of the patio, away from prying eyes and curious ears. It was late, well past midnight. It was unlikely anyone would join him on the roof. Still, simple precautions often averted disaster.

  Denver surrounded him in a compact cluster of high-rise buildings and perpendicular streets. He’d lived in many places since his return to Earth, but there was something about Denver that fascinated him. Ambition hummed through the city. It was a rapidly growing community still struggling for self-definition. The combination offered an endless supply of disorder and antagonism.

  He rested his hands on the building’s cool stone rim and raised his face to the sky. Closing his eyes, he opened his mind, allowing images and emotions to roll across his senses. Conflict and manipulation had always been his favorite strategies, but few understood the true reason for his obsession with humans. He was not evil, at least not as most humans perceived evil. He was simply hungry.

  Forcing speculation and distractions to the back of his mind, he focused on the task at hand. He had to find a situation so rife with potential complications that it would sustain him for weeks, perhaps months. He fed less frequently now, which made each feeding more important.

  Betrayal and infidelity had long since lost their appeal. Everyone lied and it was becoming progressively harder to locate anyone who hadn’t given in to temptation at least once. Loyalty. Faithfulness. Forever. The words had all but lost their meaning in this modern age.

  A sly smile curved his lips. He was doing it again, allowing details to divert his attention. After giving himself a firm mental shake, he centered his focus and listened.

  “Male or female?”

  Lust threaded through the question. The speaker had obviously meant what the question implied. Even in this new era people more often preferred one sex or the other. This might be just what he needed. He latched onto the signal and brought the scene into focus.

  Two men sat in a spacious living room, a large screen TV muted in the background. They appeared to be in their late twenties or early thirties, each physically fit and vital. One was dark-haired with angular features, the other an all-American blond. Fyn wasn’t sure who had asked the intriguing question. They’d both paused for a swig of beer. The brunet sprawled on a large sofa. The blond faced him in the matching chair. If the empty bottles cluttering the coffee table and surrounding the chair were any indication, these two had been at this for quite awhile.

  “Come on,” the brunet urged. “It’s your turn to choose. Male or female?”

  “Female,” the blond stressed. “I’m not drunk enough to indulge you again. Besides this is about my broken heart not your libido.”

  The brunet snickered. “As if you have a heart to break.” He set his empty bottle aside and rubbed the back of his neck.

  Fyn sank deeper into the man’s mind, searching for details not revealed by their conversation. The brunet’s name was Josiah and the blond was Chase or Charles. Was Chase a modern diminutive for Charles? How odd. No, it had been a progression, from Charlie to Charles to Chase. The two had a long and convoluted past. Threads of their lives interwove and tangled until it was nearly impossible to distinguish one from the other.

  “Fine,” Josiah grumbled, drawing Fyn back to the present. “We’ll stick to women. Blonde, brunette or redhead?”

  Chase drained his beer, then leaned his head against the back of the chair. He looked as if he’d make his selection, then he shook his head and sighed. “I don’t think I want to play this time. I wasn’t ready for it to be over with Vanessa.”

  “You’re just pissed because she dumped you. It’s easier on the ego when it’s the other way around. A wise man once told me that the best way to get over one lover is to—”

  “Get on top of the next. Yeah, I know. Don’t quote me to me. It’s redundant.”

  Pushing to his feet, Josiah crossed the room, his stride not quite steady. He made it to the large picture window and opened the horizontal blinds. Fyn couldn’t see anything but shadows beyond the glass, but Josiah seemed to be looking at something in particular.

  “How about Katie?” Wistfulness crept into Josiah’s tone, making his voice deeper and slightly rough. “We’ve both wondered what she’s hiding under those baggie scrubs.”

  “Sweet, innocent Katie from across the street?” Chase laughed and waved away the suggestion. “I think she’s still a virgin.”

  Josiah closed the blinds, then turned from the window, but remained across the room. “Vanessa was dark, sensual and sophisticated.”

  “Not to mention a world-class bitch.”

  Ignoring the outburst, Josiah continued. “Katie is sweet, honest and uncomplicated. They couldn’t be more different. Seducing Katie will be the perfect distraction.”

  The blond stilled, his gaze narrowed as his expression grew serious. “The people we’ve chosen so far have all been fellow players. Katie doesn’t deserve to be anyone’s ‘distraction’.”

  “She doesn’t deserve to be flirted with and romanced? What girl wouldn’t enjoy the attention of two eligible bachelors?”

  “Eligible for what?” Chase scoffed. Then after a long pause he said, “I’m not sure she’d welcome attention from either of us.”

  “There’s only one
way to find out.”

  Fyn switched his attention to the blond, needing to understand his perspective. Chase fidgeted as his befuddled mind flirted with possibilities. Katie was the kind of girl his parents would adore. She was responsible and dependable, easy going and... But he liked fire in a woman, needed his lovers to match his intensity. He could just imagine how Katie would respond if he ever brought out a pair of handcuffs or a paddle. And Josiah was even worse.

  Fyn pulled back. The human’s rambling narrative was making him dizzy.

  “She’s adorable, in that I-don’t-know-I’m-beautiful sort of way,” Chase finally composed his thoughts enough to speak. “But she’s so damn young.”

  “She’s two years older than you.”

  “How do you know how old she is?” Chase snapped to attention, a bit of his stupor evaporating.

  “We’ve lived across the street from her for five years and I work from home. I’ve occasionally spoken with most of our neighbors.” Chase had no reply to that so Josiah went on. “We don’t have to let it go as far as it usually does. As soon as she indicates a clear preference the other person can back off.”

  “And if she doesn’t indicate a clear preference? How will we determine the winner?”

  Josiah shrugged, then ambled back toward the sofa. “This race is yours.” He plopped down on the couch and spread out on his back, folding his hands behind his head. “You define the finish line.”

  “First kiss.”

  “Way too easy.”

  “I’m not going to fuck her to win this bet.”

  Turning his head, Josiah glared at Chase. “You don’t think she’s fuckable?”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He pushed his hand through his hair, obviously agitated. “If and when I sleep with Katie, it won’t be to win a bet.”

  “If you’re interested in her, why haven’t you asked her out?”

  Chase gazed off into the distance, his features tight. “Until a few weeks ago, I had a girlfriend. Why haven’t you?” The challenge in his tone was unmistakable.

  “I’ve been thinking about asking Katie out for months. Just haven’t gotten around to it.”

  Chase’s only response to the claim was a disbelieving smirk. “First one she agrees to sleep with wins. But I’ll only play if you promise to back off regardless of who wins the bet.”

  Josiah sat up and swung his feet to the floor. “If she agrees to sleep with me first, I still have to back off?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I know how easily nice girls fall for your brooding bullshit.”

  He scooted to the edge of the sofa and rested his forearms across his knees. “Really? When’s the last time I screwed around with a nice girl?”

  For a long time they just stared at each other. Fyn scanned the blond. His mind was full of sexual images, all of them featuring a curvy female with golden-brown hair and big green eyes. Fyn shifted his focus back to Josiah and found his mind even more conflicted. He was imagining himself with the same female, obviously Katie. But he also pictured Chase participating in several of the scenes. Were these two men lovers, or was it simply a development Josiah was hoping to experience?

  “I wouldn’t mind getting to know her better,” Chase finally broke the silence. “But I don’t want her hurt by our game.”

  Josiah eased back and slowly relaxed. “I won’t sleep with her until after the bet has been decided, but that’s all I’ll promise.”

  Chase shrugged and reached for another beer. “Once she realizes our sudden interest was the result of a bet, we’ll both be on her shitlist anyway.”

  “Probably,” Josiah muttered, but he didn’t sound convinced.

  Fyn had heard enough. There was nothing new here, nothing unique. Except for Josiah’s interest in Chase. That was a bit unusual. Still—

  “What would it take for you to take it seriously?” Chase asked.

  “A relationship?”

  “Yeah. What would a woman—or a man—have to do to make you want forever?”

  It was strange to hear men talk about commitment. Intrigued, Fyn momentarily postponed his departure.

  Dark eyes locked with blue as Josiah pondered the question. Fyn didn’t think he’d answer, then Josiah said, “They’d have to look at me the way they look at you.”

  Chase tensed, clearly unnerved. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re the goddamn standard, every mother’s dream for her daughter. I’m dark and twisted, no one’s idea of a hero.”

  “If I’m such a catch, why am I still single?” Chase scratched at the bottle’s label with his thumbnail, avoiding Josiah’s gaze.

  “You’re single by choice and you know it. What would make you give up the hunt?”

  “Balance.” He glanced up, then went back to destroying the label. “I want a woman who’s smart and funny, independent without being bitchy, a lady in public but kinky as hell in private.”

  Josiah laughed. “I think it’s more likely someone will find me heroic than you finding someone with all those characteristics.”

  “Then we play the game?” He set the beer on the end table as he waited for his friend’s response.

  Josiah nodded. “I’m in, but the first move is yours.”

  Fyn released the scene and allowed his perspective to expand. Drawing back slowly, he viewed the living room and then the entire house. Situated on a large lot and surrounded by mature trees, the sleek modern architecture seemed out of place in the stately neighborhood. Developers were tearing down old, less marketable houses and building “McMansions”, hoping to attract young, affluent buyers.

  Turning his attention to the house directly across the street, Fyn paused. The classic Victorian, with its steep roof and wraparound porch, was much smaller and less assuming than many of the homes surrounding it, but it was well maintained and charming. He released his hold on the physical realm and scanned the interior. The sole occupant was in the largest of the three bedrooms, upstairs at the front of the house. She sat in bed watching TV, clearly unaware that she was prominently featured in her neighbors’ conversation.

  She suddenly muted the TV and looked around. Fyn eased back, allowing the scene to blur for a moment. Many humans could sense his presence, but most brushed the sensation aside when their eyes didn’t reveal the source of their disquiet. Humans were ridiculously dependent on their sight.

  “Hello?” she persisted, throwing back the covers.

  Drawstring shorts and a clingy tank top clearly outlined her figure as she crawled out of bed. Not quite tall enough to be termed leggy, Katie had a nicely rounded ass and well-shaped legs. And her breasts were plump and full, delightfully so, considering her tiny waist. Why would she hide a figure like this under unappealing clothes?

  “I know someone’s here. Either show yourself or leave.”

  Her voice was remarkably calm, her expression revealing nothing. Fyn was tempted to appear to her, just to see if he could rattle her cage. Regardless of the men’s impression of this female, she was not some shrinking violet. With a little help from a wise adviser, she could easily teach the “players” a lesson they wouldn’t soon forget.

  And it would be his pleasure to guide her every step of the way.

  She walked to the door and pulled it open, peering into the hallway. “Grandma?” her voice caught as she whispered the word, yet Fyn sensed loneliness not fear. Her life would become a lot less isolated very soon. He just hoped she was strong enough to enjoy the game.

  Satisfied that he’d found a situation worthy of his talents, he sent a wave of calming warmth over Katie and then returned to his body on the rooftop downtown.

  Chapter One

  Lifting the next patient file from the wall bracket, Katie quickly scanned the form to see what she would need. Basic ankle x-ray, routine, boring. She fought back a smile. If she’d wanted excitement in her life, she should have chosen a different occupation. Medical imaging was not kno
wn for its challenges. She spent approximately ten minutes with each patient and seldom knew more than their name and the location of their injury or illness.

  After setting up the room for the procedure, she looked at the name on the form and paused. Fyn Bedlam. Wasn’t that the notorious asylum in England? The smile she’d been fighting all morning finally materialized. Perhaps this day would be more interesting than she’d feared.

  She walked down the hall to the small waiting room. There were two women in hospital gowns and a youngish man sitting in a wheelchair. “Mr. Bedlam?” She smiled at the man.

  “That would be me.” He raised his hand and returned her smile. He had shaggy blond hair and bright blue eyes. His jeans had been rolled up on one side, revealing his swollen ankle, and he wore a plain white T-shirt. He seemed ordinary, average, certainly not dangerous or challenging. Oh well. She hadn’t really expected anything interesting, but a girl could hope.

  Slipping around the wheelchair in the crowded space took some creative maneuvering. Still, she managed to release the break and roll Mr. Bedlam out into the hall. “I’d ask how your day was going, but I’m pretty sure I know.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, this was not what I had planned.”

  “Well, I’ll try to make this as quick and painless as possible.”

  The x-ray room was quiet and cool, as always. She rolled him up to the table and set the wheelchair’s breaks. “Can you hop up onto the table, or should I grab a step?”

  “No. I’m pretty sure I can do it.” He pushed to his feet, or actually foot, as he kept his weight balanced on his uninjured leg. He was taller than she’d first thought and he easily made it to the tabletop.

  She moved the wheelchair out of the way then asked, “Can you swing your legs up onto the table?”

  He was staring at her with an odd expression, eyes slightly narrowed. “You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere else?”

  “I don’t think so. Your name is pretty hard to forget.”

  Suddenly his eyes widened and his mouth gaped. “You’re not Katie, are you?”