Get Into My Shorts
By Nikki Palmer
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 by Nikki Palmer
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is an anthology containing the author’s favorites of the short stories she’s written. If you’re looking for an introduction to Nikki Palmer’s work this is the best way to get it. The anthology contains: Brenda the Bitch, Frannie the Titless Wonder, Karen’s Kissin’ Cousin, Nikki and her Teacher, Norma and Nelson Get Nerdified, Rose and the Alien and Buttcrack Betty. Also included is For Daddy’s Love by Bree Jandora.
All characters in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. This book is intended for mature readers, only.
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Brenda the Bitch
Brenda slammed the car door as she got in and threw her purse into the passenger seat. She couldn’t believe she had to drive all the way into Madison just to see a shrink. She lived in Huntsville, AL. There were over 150,000 people there and the requisite number of shrinks. They’d all told her she needed to find someone else. Her money wasn’t good enough for them?
She wore her long dirty blond hair loose around her shoulders. She was wearing a skirt that ended just above her knee and a snug-fitting black blouse. She knew she looked good. She wasn’t sure why men didn’t fall at her feet, but it was their loss not hers. She didn’t need a man in her life to be fulfilled. That’s why batteries were invented.
Now, instead of being able to take an extended lunch to see her shrink once a week, she’d have to take half a day off work. That was ridiculous. Why were they putting her out like this? She’d have to go through the fucking human resources department which was entirely populated with fucking idiots to make this work. This new therapist had better be good. He’d better be more than good. He’d better rock her world.
She walked into the therapist’s office mumbling under her breath about inconsiderate people who didn’t know their jobs. The receptionist greeted her with a smile that didn’t reach her vacuous eyes. Great. Another idiot. You could see it in her face.
“Hi, I’m Brenda Spangleton, and I’m here to see Dr. Armory.”
“Do you have an appointment?” the woman asked politely.
“I’m not a fucking idiot! Do you really think I’d take off half a day of work to drive out here to Bumfuck, Egypt to see some wacko without an appointment?” Brenda replied.
The receptionist blinked a couple of times and handed Brenda a pile of paperwork. “Ah, yes, you’re the client we’ve been expecting. Fill this out, please.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you just get this information from the idiot that referred me here? Don’t you people ever do anything the intelligent way? I don’t want to waste my entire fucking afternoon filling out your fucking paperwork. I have better things to do!”
The receptionist smiled sweetly and said, “I’m sorry, but Dr. Armory can’t see you until you’ve filled out the paperwork.”
Brenda rolled her eyes and stomped over to the first chair. It was a good thing the waiting room was empty, because she’d have scared everyone else off in the mood she was in. She couldn’t believe they actually expected her to fill out paperwork when they were the ones who’d insisted that she drive all the way out here to see a new therapist to start with.
She finished up the paperwork and threw the clipboard at the receptionist who caught it quickly. “Dr. Armory is with a client. He should be ready for you in a few minutes.”
“My appointment was at 3:00. It’s three minutes after. Does he have no respect for other people’s time? What the fuck is wrong with you people?” Brenda stormed back over to sit down and picked up her cell phone. She called her mother, at work, and proceeded to bitch about the new therapist and how badly his staff was treating her.
“Mom, do you believe that it’s already ten minutes after one and my appointment was at three, and they’re not even ready to see me yet? My time is more valuable than that! I took off work for this. A whole half day! And I had to drive all the way to Madison for this appointment.” She paused for a moment. “Mom, are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here. You’re on speaker phone. I have to do paperwork while we talk, dear. I’m sorry they’re making you wait.”
Brenda sighed. “I think you should pick up the phone and talk to me, Mom. You’re being rude. This is only the third time I’ve called you today. You never make time for me anymore. It’s like you don’t think I’m important.”
An older woman left through the waiting room then, and a young attractive man came to the door. “Brenda?”
“They’re finally ready for me, Mom. I’ll call you later and let you know how it went. Love you.”
She stood and followed Dr. Armory back to his office. She walked in and sat down on one end of the couch and stared at him. He took the seat in front of the desk and picked up the thick file he had in front of him. “I see that you have seen every single mental health therapist in the city of Huntsville and that they all refuse to see you again. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
He was actually good looking. Short, but she could forgive him for that, she supposed. He had dark hair and brown eyes. She tended to like brown eyes. Blond men were sissies for the most part. Of course, most men with dark hair were sissies too. She’d yet to find the guy who was man enough to stand up to her. When she found him, she’d find the man she’d spend her life with.
She rolled her eyes. “None of them seem to understand the fact that I pay them. They want to have a ‘therapy session’ that runs a certain way all the time. They want to ‘help me with my problems’. Do you want to know what I want out of a therapy session?”
“Do I really have a choice?” he asked sarcastically.
She ignored his answer and went on. “I want someone who will listen to my problems. I don’t want them to tell me what I’m doing wrong. I want them to listen and agree that people are mean to me. Don’t tell me that I handle things wrong. I know I don’t. Just listen to me and agree that people are idiots and we’ll get along just fine.”
“So basically, what you want from a mental health counselor, is someone to be your doormat. You want someone to sit and listen to you bitch about your pathetic life and the way you’re ruining it by treating people badly, and agree with you that it’s everyone else’s fault?”
Brenda tilted her head to the side for a moment and thought about what he’d said. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”
He closed her chart. “You’re either going to go through this session my way, or you’re going to leave and drive a hell of a lot further than Madison to find a counselor. Is that understood?”
Brenda glared at him. “You do realize that I’m paying you, and not the other way around, right?”
He glared right back. “You do realize that if you ever treat my receptionist like garbage again I will personally take you over my knee and give you the spanking that your mother should have given you twenty years ago, right?”
“You can’t fuckin’ treat me this way, you asshole!” Brenda got to her feet and towered over him. She loved towering over people while they sat. At five foot nothing, it was the only way she could ever tower over anyone. “It’s my money that pays your bills!”
He stood up so that he was towering over her. He was only five six, and towering over a woman as short as her made him feel powerful. Who did this little bitch think she was? Sure, she was attractive in a strange sort of way. She was too thin. She barely had any tits, but there was something about her attitude that was really turning him on.
“I paid my bills just fine before you were my client, and I’ll pay them just fine after I tell you never to come back! I don’t know why the hell you think I need you! Do I look like I’m starving to death?”
“Who the hell do you think you are talking to me this way? I will not be treated like this!” Brenda reached out her puny little hands and shoved him back a step. She couldn’t believe how turned on she was getting. No one ever stood up to her. They told her calmly that they wouldn’t be treated that way, or they cowered. No one ever stood toe to toe with her and refused to back down.
She had always controlled everyone around her by being the loudest and the bitchiest. She remembered getting mad at someone in elementary school for playing on the swing she wanted to use and pitching such a fit that the kid had left because she was so embarrassed to be part of such a thing. Brenda didn’t care that she had no friends. She had the swing and everything else she wanted.
“I noticed on your chart that you’ve been diagnosed with Narcissistic Personality Disorder. You do know that’s just another way of telling you that you’re a selfish bitch who doesn’t play well with others, right?” He took a step closer to her, leaning over her to intimidate her.
She almost took a step back, but instead, butted her head into his chest. “I can’t believe you just said that to me! I’m paying you!”
“I can’t believe no one has ever taken you over their knee and spanked you like the spoiled child you are! In fact, I think that’s absolutely essential for your therapy.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her over to the couch and sat down. He pulled her face down across his lap and held her there with his forearm, while his other hand went to her short skirt. He pulled it up to bare her ass. She was wearing a thong, and no pantyhose, so there was nothing between his hand and her butt.
“I will sue your sorry ass for this, you fucking asshole! You can’t do this to me!”
He laughed. “You deserve this so much that I don’t care if I lose my license. I have an impeccable record. I have colleagues that will vouch for me as well as clients. I have seen in your chart over and over that what you really need is a spanking. Well, Brenda the Bitch, you’re about to get one. Be glad I’m using my hand and not my belt. If you ever talk to me or any member of my staff the way you just did again, you’ll get my belt across your prissy little ass.”
He brought his hand back and swatted her ass with the full force of the anger he was feeling. She cried out. “That hurts!”
“It’s meant to!” He swatted her again. And again. Every time she cried out, he felt his cock grow a little harder. Shit. He knew that he would love spanking this little bitch, and that he would love getting some frustration out this way, but he hadn’t expected to get this turned on by it. He couldn’t stop now though. He had to show her he had the upper hand.
He kept bringing his hand down on her ass, until finally his hand grew sore. He looked down at her bright red ass and smiled, rubbing his now sore hand over her bottom. “Now, do you think you can act like a human being?”