Tom's School Days 24

I get so preoccupied with this story so I forget I can write something else. That is, something else fit for the blog. Maybe I should take a break and write something different? I don't know.

Tom was a little hesitant in the beginning, being a little overwhelmed by the sound of the leather of his belt against Stephanie's soft bottom. And the sounds of distress she uttered. She didn't protest, or say anything so he kept on.

He got into a pace of smacking her, and sensing her wriggle in his lap. In a way he found that he actually enjoyed the sensation of her body moving against his. It encouraged him to smack a little harder, to increase the frequency.

Soon he was smacking along, in a good, steady pace. Stephanie was panting, and sighing, and giving out small pathetic sounds of distress. In his current state of mind, those sounds only made him want to spank her more. So he did.

Tom stopped to take a breath, and happened to look down on Stephanie's buttocks. They were now not only bruised from before, but had taken on a very active red colour. Suddenly Tom felt bad about spanking her.

'Maybe,' he said, hesitantly, 'maybe we are done.'

Stephanie didn't reply.

He put down the belt, and stared at her bottom for a while. Then he gently touched her right buttock. Stephanie let go of a strange sound, like a sigh. Her skin felt hot.

The next thing he knew, he was caressing her buttock, sensing the skin under his hand. Stephanie wriggled in his lap. He extended his attention to the other buttock. He was captivated, and thought that he should, perhaps, not do this, but since Stephanie didn't protest, he decided to continue.

In his exploration of Stephanie's buttocks, he happened, accidentally to let his fingers slip in between them, and was surprised by the reaction he got. Stephanie moaned. First he thought that perhaps she was in pain.

Then he couldn't help himself, so he did it again. This time she wriggled. The third time she whimpered, and began to squirm. He was quite surprised by her reaction.

With a sigh, and a wriggle, she slipped off his lap.

'Oh, did I hurt you?'

He didn't get a reply. Stephanie's body began to shiver, and Tom was convinced she was in pain. Then she looked up at him, with tears in her eyes.

She wasn't sobbing, she was laughing.

She struggled for breath, she was laughing so much. Tom was confused. He stared at her, and didn't understand a thing.

Stephanie was still laughing as she got to her feet, and pulled her knickers up.

'I...I got to go,' she had a hard time talking, she was sobbing with laughter.

'What's the matter, did I do something wrong?'

'No, Tom, nothing wrong, that was great. You're such a silly boy, at times. But I love you for that.'

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then she went away. Tom was left on the bench, with his belt by his side, and his mind more confused than ever.

Tom's School Days 23

Soon Tom forgot to feel guilty, and focussed completely on Stephanie's lips, lips and tongue. In fact, her use of her mouth was so persuasive that he even forgot to be cautious. He had had too many bad experiences in similar circumstances, so something was only to be expected.

As it happened no one came, no one interrupted them, so Stephanie had time to show off her skills regarding this kind of activities.

Tom had to bite his lip in order not to cry out loud. And soon he was unable to hold it back, even if he may have wanted to.

When they were done, and his precious member was back in its confinement, Stephanie looked up at Tom, and smiled.

'Steph,' he sighed.

'I know,' she purred.

'I don't know what to say.'

'You don't have to say anything.'

'But...what about you?'

'What about me?'

'I mean, what about you? How are you...I mean, don't you want...?'

'No, that's quite all right, I'm happy if you're happy.'

'Really?'

'Really!'

'I feel like I should, you know, do something for you.'

'If you really want to do something for me...'

'Yeah, I do.'

'There is something you could do.'

'Any time.'

Stephanie rose up, but instead of standing up, she seemed to slip over his knees, in a slithering, very soft moment, until she was lying on his thighs.

'Is this what I think it is?' Tom said.

'I think it is.'

'But Steph, you have just been caned.'

'I am healing well.'

'Are you sure?'

'I am sure.'

'But why would you want to...you know...?'

'Don't ask.'

'All right.'

Tom stared at Stephanie's bottom, clad in her regulation skirt.

'With my hand, then?' he asked.

'If you haven't brought anything sharper.'

'No, I don't think so.'

'If you want, Tom, you could always use your belt.'

'My belt?'

'Yes, you know, your belt, the thing that holds your trousers up.'

'Oh, my belt.'

'Yes, your belt.'

'Do you really want that?'

'Mmmm.'

Tom hurried to unbuckle his belt and pull it from his trousers. He held it in his hand, and saw that he could actually get a good swing with it.

'Are you sure?'

'I'm sure.'

'Ready?'

'Ready, but you're forgetting something.'

'What?'

'Skirt?'

'Oh.' Tom lifted Stephanie's skirt. He was suddenly very embarrassed since his member reacted to the sight of her knicker-clad bottom. He hadn't expected that, having exhausted it just recently.

'Well then...,' he said.

'We're not ready yet.'

'You mean...?'

'Yes.'

'Oh.' Tom took hold of Stephanie's knickers and pulled them down. She obediently lifted her hips to help him.

'Now, then, ready?'

'Yes.'

Tom hesitated. He looked at Stephanie's bottom. There were still some bruises and marks left, but somehow it seemed as if she was right, that she was healing well. Tom still wasn't sure if he should really.

'We can't wait all night,' Stephanie said.

'All right, then, here it comes. How many?'

'Your call.'

'All right.'

Then he smacked her. Stephanie jumped, and let out a moan.

Tom's School Days 22

'How did I do?' Tom asked Amanda, as they walked together from the Dungeon. The other girls had left before, so they were alone, as Amanda locked the door and they left together.

'You did well,' Amanda said, 'brilliantly.'

'I wasn't too harsh?'

'No, not at all, she deserved it.'

'I kind of got carried away.'

'You liked it, then?'

'Truth to be told, Amanda, I think I did. And I feel bad about that.'

'Why?'

'It seems wrong to enjoy such a thing.'

'Why would that be wrong?'

'She was in pain, and I just...enjoyed it.'

'Everybody's happy then!'

'What do you mean?'

'What do you think I mean?'

'She can't have...I mean...she really can't...can she?'

'She knows the rules.'

'I wouldn't enjoy it, not like that.'

'We're all different, let's leave it at that.'

'Perhaps that's for the best.'

'Let me put it like this. I know, for a fact, that you have got yourself some admirers. And that your actions haven't really helped preventing the breaking of rules.'

'I don't understand your lot.'

'You mean us, or girls in general?'

'Both, I think.'

Amanda was smiling as she left. Tom stood for a while, watching her leave. He was strangely pleased with the sight of her, how she moved, the silent confidence, or was it happiness, that her almost skipping walk revealed.

'Tom!' a voice came from the darkness of the cloister.

'Steph?'

'Yeah, it's me.'

'What you're doing there?'

'What you're doing with the weird girls?'

'I don't know, Steph, truth to be told, I don't know.'

'They're a creepy bunch.'

'I wouldn't call them creepy. Weird is all right, but not creepy.'

'That Amanda Tilly girl, she is strange. And her friend, the red haired one...'

'Annabelle.'

'Perhaps. Anyway, she was stripped by GPS the other night, and she was given detention. She deserved it, silly girl!'

'It was FDF, actually.'

'You know a lot about that.'

'Never mind.'

'Talking about stripping...'

'Are you serious?'

'I'm always serious. Let's sneak into the garden.'

'Is it safe?'

'As safe as it gets, around here.'

'Sorry about the Tower.'

'Don't be.'

They found a secluded corner in the Garden. Tom sat on the stone bench, with Stephanie beside him. She wasted no time. Her hand slipped down his trousers.

'What have you been up to?' she giggled.

'Oh, nothing much.'

'Was it because of seeing little me?'

'Perhaps.'

Tom hadn't realised how aroused he had been when whipping Annabelle, and now he didn't want to tell Stephanie about it.

As Stephanie's fingers gripped his member, his thoughts wandered away to the meeting in the Dungeon, to Annabelle's naked body, her round and fair bottom, and to the vicious cane in his hand, and to the sound of it as it travelled through the air, towards its encounter with her soft buttocks.

He felt a little guilty for thinking of Annabelle at the same time as Stephanie helped his sex out of the confinement of his trousers, and how she, still with her fingers around it, slid down on her knees, and let her lips move to embrace it.

Car Trip

And now a short break in the ongoing story about Tom and his girls. I will be back with next instalment soon, but this is a short something I just wrote. I publish it here, warts and all.

It was a hot day, and I had to stand in the sun while I was waiting for him. I had dressed for the day, but it didn't really help. I felt too clothed for the weather, yet I was still wearing a bit too little for being quite appropriate while being seen. My sleeveless and striped top was tight, too tight, really. And my shorts were too small. I felt silly, and wondered why had taken them. I knew why. I knew I had done it because I knew he liked it that way. That was rather kind of me.

'Get in the car,' he said, as he stopped beside me. My heart had started beating the moment I saw him approach. He smiled. I smiled too, and suddenly I was excited about going away with him.

He didn't say much as he took us through the crowded street of the city centre. He looked at me from time to time and smiled. I became quite self conscious about him looking at me, at the same time it was not altogether an awkward sensation.

'Take your knickers off,' he said, suddenly.

'Here?'

'Unless you would prefer I stop the car and you step out.'

'We're still in the middle of town.'

'I know.'

'And I am wearing shorts.'

'And...?'

I knew that look on his face. He meant what he said. I wasn't exactly scared of it, but I knew he was determined to have me do as I was told. There was a certain inevitability about it. It made my heart race.

He had had me do the same before, but that time I was wearing a skirt. It was much easier then.

I looked at him, again, and knew I would soon be sliding my shorts down my legs. I started by unbuttoning them. I looked around and thought that I could delay it a little, wait for a less crowded street, a place where he would drive the car in a little bit higher speed.

When I knew I had already waited to long, I began wriggling them down my hips, and had got them to my knees when he stopped. There was a red light. People were standing to the side, waiting to walk across in front of the car.

'Go on,' he said, smiling.

I slipped my shorts down and took them off. I waited a little, for the light to turn green.

'You don't want to take too long with that,' he said. And I knew exactly what he meant.

I lifted my bottom and pulled my knickers down, at the same moment as the car gained speed.

'In the glove compartment,' he said, and I knew he meant my knickers. I was somehow relieved I didn't have to throw them out of the window.

'What are you doing?' he said, as I reached for the shorts.

'Putting my shorts back on.'

'Did I say that you could?'

'You didn't say I couldn't.'

'Putting them on is dressing.'

'I suppose you are right.'

'And you know what the rules are for dressing.'

'Always ask permission.'

'Right.'

'Can I put my shorts on, please?'

'No.'

'We're in the middle of town, and this car is moving very slowly.'

'The answer is no.'

'Please.'

'Don't cross your legs!'

'Please!!'

'Keep them parted, instead.'

He put his hand on my thigh at the same time as I cautiously parted my legs, just a little. He turned to me and smiled.

'Look at the road,' I said.

He chuckled, and let his hand move up my thigh, and then down, on the inside.

'People will be looking,' I said.

'The women will be envious, and the guys will be envious too.'

I found it hard to comment, as his hands moved up the inside of my thigh. I looked up and saw him looking forward, smiling. Then I heard myself gasp as his fingers moved inside. I held my breath as I felt his fingers begin to snake and move.

'You do like this,' he said.

'No.'

'Don't lie to me, you know what happens when you lie.'

'I am not lying.'

'Some part of you likes it.'

Occasionally he retrieved his hand to change gear, but it always returned to its place. Sometime he just kept his fingers still, and sometimes he moved them about. I never knew what would happen next.

I didn't want to give in to the fire his intruding fingers lit. I looked out of the window, trying to focus on the road signs, on the people on the street, or how the buildings around us were constructed.

'There is something in the back seat. It's for you,' he said.

'I'll look at it later,' I replied.

'Don't sulk.'

'I'm not sulking.'

'Look at it.'

I turned round to reach for the plastic bag that was lying on the back seat. He didn't remove his hand, and I got the distinct impression that anyone standing by the road would get a very good look at what was happening.

'You are embarrassing me,' I hissed, as I sat back.

'Yes, I know. I like that. Open the bag now.'

I opened the bag. In it was a leather object. A handle, covered in braided leather, that softened into a short braided tongue, that got thinner and thinner towards the tip. It was a robust thing, quite short, and didn't look like anything I had seen before. I had no doubt, though, that it was some kind of whip.

'A quirt,' he said, 'I have bought you a quirt.'

'And I assume that it is not mine in the sense of me using it?'

'Of course not. I am going to use it,' he said, and smiled, '...on you.'

'What have I done?'

'Nothing much, really. I just wanted to use it.'

'It looks harsh.'

'I think it will be. I am looking forward to it.'

He moved his fingers inside me, and I jumped. The whip, being half naked, his fingers, all seemed to conspire to send a wave of something pleasant, although quite unwelcome through my body.

'You are looking forward to it too.'

'I'm not.'

'Yes, you are.'

'Don't be daft.'

'Truth to be told, if you like it too much, it's not the same.'

'Don't worry, this one looks mean.'

I held the dreaded thing, still in my hands.

'Take your top off now.'

'I can't do that.'

'Maybe this will be a good pretext for using it. The quirt on your soft bottom for disobedience.'

I looked around and found that we had come up on the highway. The cars moved faster, and were further away, but not far enough for other drivers not to notice if I was wearing a top of not.

'Should I really take my safety belt off?'

'You could always try without taking it off.'

'That's awkward.'

'Your choice.'

'I have no bra.'

'Yes, I know.'

I managed, somehow, to extract my top from my body, without taking the safety belt off. As I sat back, I felt the coarse fabric of it pass between my breasts. I looked out through the window. I didn't think the oncoming traffic would have time to notice too much, they were far away, but the ones we passed and those who passed us would surely notice.

'Do you enjoy it?' he said.

'Enjoy what?'

'This.'

'Being naked in your car, on a public road, while you have your fingers inside me, knowing that I will taste a brand new whip in a not too distant future?'

'Yes.'

'I am embarrassed.'

'That's not what I asked for.'

'If I enjoy it?'

'Yes. I know you are embarrassed, I know you are a bit apprehensive about the quirt. I know you are awkward, but do you enjoy it?'

'Do I have to answer that?'

'Yes, please, do answer.'

I sat for a while, staring out through the window. His fingers were not still, and stayed longer now when there was less need to change gear. I held it back, but those fingers were very persistent. There would come a moment when I no longer wanted to hold back, when I wanted to go forward, when I would beg him to let me go forward.

'Yes, I enjoy it.'

Tom's School Days 12

My ambition is to post an instalment of Tom's story once a week, but now it is almost two weeks. I am very sorry for that. Anyway, here is the twelfth part of the story. No floggings, but some other things, perhaps, that may cheer you up in the darkness of winter, unless you are antipodean and then you are in the middle of summer and need no cheering up, at least not on behalf of the season. Never mind.

'No bed,' Stephanie said and looked around, 'we'll have to manage without.' She smiled. 'Take that armchair.'

Tom sat down in one of the armchairs, looked around in amazement at the room, and then turned his gaze at Stephanie, who hadn't joined him, but remained standing.

'What are we doing here?' Tom asked, 'really?'

'You are really sweet,' Stephanie replied and began unbuttoning her white shirt, 'you know that, don't you?'

'If someone comes?' Tom gasped but could not stop staring at Stephanie, as she was done with the unbuttoning, and slipped the shirt from her shoulders.

'You locked the door.'

'If there is another key?'

'I don't think there is another key.'

'Think?'

'Don't worry,' she said and slipped her bra from her.

'Perhaps,' Tom stammered, 'perhaps it doesn't matter.' Tom's eyes were fixed on Stephanie's bosom that was now fully on display. He didn't express it in words but his eyes told her that hers was the most glorious bosom he had ever set his eyes on.

Encouraged by the light in his eyes, she stood for a while and let herself be admired. Had she ever doubted her beauty Tom's reaction made it clear to her that she had the ability to impress.

Still smiling she slipped off her skirt and her knickers. Tom blushed and stared, fighting with an impulse that told him that it wasn't quite proper to fix his eyes on certain parts of Stephanie's anatomy in the way he did.

The now quite nude Stephanie approached Tom and knelt before him. He had a vague idea in his head that he should protest as her hands reached out to release his member. There was no protest, no argument, when she proceeded to embrace his proud warrior with her lips.

Quite soon, Tom, had completely stopped thinking of reasons why he should not enjoy the attention given to his friend, and the fact that he had a completely naked Stephanie to look at.

It was in this moment of bliss disaster struck. The timing was terrible. Tom was just about to reap the fruits of Stephanie's labour when the door was flung open.

'What have we here?' a mocking voice boomed.

'No!' Tom cried out in agony.

'Hell!' Stephanie whispered the moment her lips were free to form words.

Tom turned towards the voice and saw that it belonged to John, a member of the Mushy Peas Club, a senior of Tom's, and a friend of Mark's. The moment he got hold of the situation he sat himself bolt upright and tried desperately to replace his attentive warrior in his trousers.

Stephanie had in the meantime begun to move towards her clothes that lay in a heap on the floor.

'No, stay where you are,' John said, and Stephanie did. She remained on her knees, although her hands moved to cover herself.

'Don't do that, my dear,' John said, 'I don't mind the privilege of resting my eyes on your assets.'

'My assets,' Stephanie hissed under her breath.

Tom's School Days 5

Another instalment of the story of Tom and his experiences in school. I do enjoy writing it, but I can see that this story dominates my blogging at the moment. Please let me know if you get bored by it.

Tom's reaction and actions weren't exactly rational as Stephanie paid lip service to his member who dutifully stood to attention. He knew Stephanie was gifted and very, very attractive, but he was still surprised and even overwhelmed by her skills.

He did very little but gasp and moan and bite his lip. What he did do, included trying desperately to yank down Stephanie's shirt from her shoulders, making her more naked than she was. He wanted more of her, but as it was, she was almost out of reach for him, and he didn't want to interrupt what she was doing.

Everything must end, and this event reached its conclusion, all too soon, but not soon enough for Tom. And as Stephanie was occupied with the after-care of his tired warrior, using both her mouth and hands, Tom was slowly coming back to the realm of the living.

Fortunately, for Tom, Stephanie had just managed to replace what she had released, when disaster struck. A voice resounded through the night.

'What have we here?'

Tom immediately recognised the voice as that of Mr Allen, the History teacher, one of the sterner of the staff. His heart stopped beating, as it seemed.

'We were just talking,' Stephanie, said, and turned to Mr Allen who had appeared out of the shadows. She was still on her knees.

'I do understand you have been using your mouth, my dear, but that doesn't explain the shirt.'

'Oh,' she said and immediately pulled her shirt up and began buttoning it. She rose to her feet, and stood back from the lecturer.

'Mr Allen,' Tom began, 'I can explain...'

'No, need to explain, Tom. It is late, but you are, after all a member of the Mushy Peas Club.'

'But...'

'You, on the other hand,' he said and turned to Stephanie, 'are in breach of the curfew, caught with your dress in disorder, and suspected of inappropriate conduct.'

'I am sorry, sir,' Stephanie whispered, sounding meek.

'You know we have no hesitation in dealing with misdeeds, and that we do not spare the rod. This calls for a punishment, you know that, of course?'

'Of course, sir.'

'I will give you a choice, Miss Burns, and that is between 20 in the yard, or 40 in my rooms.'

In the yard meant that the cane would be applied publicly, in the yard, where a whipping post was set in the ground. It allowed students and staff to watch and was generally considered a great disgrace.

'Oh, please, Mr Allen.'

'Surely you agree that your conduct calls for some disciplining.'

'Yes, sir, I do. But can't Tom do it? Please.'

'Ah, that's an idea,' Mr Allen said, his face lightening up, 'it is not such a bad idea.'

'Please, Mr Allen, Tom can punish me, in his room.'

'Well, why not. If Mr Banks agrees to it.'

'Please, Tom, will you do it?'

Tom was flabbergasted. But Stephanie looked desperate, as if she really wanted it, and she had been very kind to him.

'Yes, sir,' he replied, 'I'll do it.'

'Good. Tomorrow, after dinner, Miss Burns will come to your room, where you will give her 60 strokes with the cane.'

'60?'

'Yes, 60. I will inspect her Friday morning, and I know what to expect. I know what a bottom is supposed to look like after 60 sharp cuts with the cane. You, Tom, will get a cane from the porters lodge.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Is that what you want, Stephanie?'

'Yes, sir.'

'So be it. And you can't do it in private, anyone around will have the privilege of watching. Understood?'

'Yes, sir,' they both said.

'Agreed then, good night.'

'Good night, sir,' they said in unison.

'And, don't forget, always on the bare.'

'No, sir, yes, sir.'

Tom's School Days 4

As you may see, this story will now move in a slightly different direction. I did enjoy writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it.

Tom's mind was in turmoil as he walked in the cloister after leaving the Club. The Mushy Peas Club confused him. They showed a very cavalier and arrogant attitude about most things, at the same time they were meticulous in keeping track of the offender's knickers. Although he was proud of being part of it, and had actually enjoyed the whipping, he found this obsession a little uncanny.

'Tom,' a whisper from the shadows.

He stopped and looked in the direction of the voice. He had heard it was a girl's whisper.

'Tom, over here,' the voice said.

'Steph?'

'Who else?'

In the shade Stephanie's red hair looked darker, although her eyes seemed to sparkle.

'First time, eh?'

'What do you mean?' Tom said.

Stephanie had come closer to him. She was smiling, confusing Tom.

'First whipping, I heard. You made an impression.'

'You know Miss Tilly?'

'Miss Tilly my arse,' she said and laughed, 'Amanda couldn't stop talking about it.'

'Couldn't she?'

'Did you enjoy it?'

'Why would I enjoy it?'

'Oh, I think you did.'

Stephanie stood very close to Tom now, and she had put her hand on his crotch. He tensed his body, but fought back his reactions. He didn't want to appear too affected by her presence.

'We can do something about this,' she purred.

'Not here,' Tom hissed.

'Come!'

Stephanie took him by his hand and led him into the even darker shadows of the staircase to the library. She pushed him against the wall. Then she knelt in front of him and looked with glittering eyes at his crotch.

Tom became very self conscious.

'Not here.'

'Why not here?' she said.

She reached out her hands and began unbuttoning his fly. Tom wanted to protest, but something held him back.

'No, we need something different,' she said and sat back, 'do you want to see my tits?'

'What?...well, yes.'

Stephanie began to unbutton her shirt and flung it open. She reached for her bosom and undid a small bow between her breasts that opened her bra, exposing her breasts.

Stephanie's bra was not the first he had seen, although he was far from an expert, but he had never seen one that worked like hers. Maybe she had added that little bow in the front for occasions like this?

Tom stared at Stephanie's breasts, although he could barely see them in the shade. They were a very nice pair of breasts to look at, in Tom's opinion. His experience of female bosoms wasn't extensive, but he knew to appreciate the pair he had in front of him.

He suppressed an impulse to reach out and touch Stephanie's bosom. Soon he was thinking of other things. She had reached out and continued undoing his fly. Tom was worried someone might come by, but the sheer pleasure of Stephanie's fingers on him, seemed to cancel out his objections.

Tom's enthusiasm for her actions, surely fuelled by the previous activities at the Club, made it an ordeal for Stephanie to release that which she was trying to set free. When she finally managed, Tom let go of a sigh, and Stephanie a kind of purring sound.

She sat back for a while, as if to admire what was before her eyes. Maybe she did admire it, maybe she knew that this encouraged the one equipped with the member.

Going Out

A story is just a story and I should not be so embarrassed about it. Right? Well, I am. Can't help it.

'You need to be punished,' he said smiling at me.

I stood in the hallway, looking up into his face, newly kissed, still held in his arms.

'Have I done something bad?' I purred.

'You need to know your place,' he said, 'I am not sure you do.'

'What is my place, then?' I asked.

'Somewhere here,' he said, and smiled, this time a wicked smile, 'or down there.' He pointed to the floor.

I looked at him for a while, trying to understand what he was thinking. Then, out of nowhere, I sank to my knees. I slipped out of his grip and knelt before him, close to him.

I looked up at him, my face at the level of his crotch.

'Here?'

I sank down on the floor, leaned forward and touched my forehead to the floor, in between his feet, my hands still grasping his ankles.

'Or here?'

He knelt before me. He took my chin in his hand and lifted my head until I was looking into his eyes.

'I like this, I like you down here. But you still need to be punished.'

He leaned forward and I felt his hand grip the fabric of my dress and pull it up, over my bottom.

'You will still have to be punished. And you know how you punish a woman, don't you?'

'No, I don't. How do you punish a woman?'

'I am sure you know.'

'No, you will have to tell me.'

'Stand on your knees.'

He pulled at my skirt and I raised my body and stood straight, still kneeling. He held my skirt up, above my waist. He crumbled it in his hand and pressed it to my belly. I understood and took hold of it, holding it up.

He reached out his hands and put them on my hips. He caressed them slowly, holding my gaze fast.

'I am sure you know what is good for a woman. If she needs to be punished.'

'No, I don't.'

He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of my knickers and with a swift tug pulled them down, down to my knees.

He took a firm grip on my buttock, his fingers digging into my flesh.

'You know, don't you?'

'I think I know,' said, and heard how I gasped.

'What is it then?'

'You want to hear me say it.'

'Yes, I want to hear you say it.'

'A spanking.'

'Say it properly.'

'How is properly?'

'What a woman needs when she is to be punished is a spanking.'

'Do you want me to be in earnest?'

'Just say it. And mean it.'

'What a woman needs when she is to be punished...is a spanking.'

'A good spanking.'

'To make me know my place?'

'To make you know your place. Come.'

He rose to his feet and took my hand, the one not holding my crumbled skirt against my belly. He rose me to my feet and led me into the living room.

I hadn't dropped my skirt and I hadn't pulled my knickers up. I stood in the centre of the dimly lit room. He took a heavy high backed chair that stood by the big old table and turned it around. He stood by the chair, his hand on its back and looked at me.

He seemed to scrutinise me, wonder about me, wonder what I would do, what would happen. I still stood before him, exposed as if he had ordered me to stay like that. It was unbearable to see him just look at me.

I saw at his crotch that punishing me was something that had awakening his desire. I didn't want him to spank me. I wanted him to do other things to me.

He took my hand and led me to the chair while he sat down on it. I knew what was expected of me and I submitted to him and placed my body across his knee, sensing his arousal as I lowered myself in place.

He placed his hand on my bottom. It was a mocking gesture, a false sweetness from the hand that soon would deal out pain. He seemed to hesitate.

'This, my love, is your place.'

He lifted his hand and the world seemed to be still. Then he smacked me. More than anything, I was surprised by the sheer force of it. He had let it descend on my naked skin with brutal force and my body seemed to explode from the sudden pain.

He smacked me again. My body rocked forward and my mind was overcome with panic, the fear that this was too much, that this was something I couldn't cope with.

He smacked me again.

'I am not sure...' I gasped, 'please.'

'Listen to me,' he said, his voice strained, 'I want it to hurt, I want it to be terrible, do you understand?'

'Yes,' I whimpered.

'You will be punished. I will give you time to take it, but there is no getting away from it, do you understand?'

'Yes.'

He smacked me again. I had to take it. The pain surged through me and I squirmed and whimpered but I had to take it, smack after smack.

He took his time, let me take a deep breath between smacks, but he didn't let up. He continued spanking me for a long time, smack after painful smack landing on my bottom.

This was what he wanted to do to me, this was what he wanted. He wanted it to hurt and it hurt. He chose this spanking for me and I took it. I took every blow of it.

When he was done, I heard him breathe heavily. I didn't know he was done, I was still waiting and wondering if he would give me more pain, if he would punish me more.

I felt his body under mine and I felt his arousal through the fabric of his trousers. I was aware of every detail, every sensation in my body. My bottom was warm and throbbing and tender as he placed his hand on it.

He gently began to caress my bottom, taking it into possession, gripping my buttocks. It was as if he wanted to tell me that my bottom was his, belonged to him and that he could do whatever he wanted with it.

My body was his. I wanted nothing else than to feel him touch and fondle my body. I belonged to him. He had punished me and I wanted it to be like this, like it was.

I held my breath, surprised when his fingers slipped in between my buttocks, into me. The sudden intrusion was intimidating in its intimacy. When I had thought that my body belonged to him, it seemed as if he wanted to prove it by invading it.

His fingers burned inside me as he slowly moved them, let them snake inside me, touching and arousing me.

'Do you like being punished?' he said, his voice low, smooth.

'No,' I gasped.

'It is good if it is true. A punishment should be bad. I want it to be bad. I want you to suffer.'

'It hurt.'

'But I think you are a liar. I think you liked it. I think you should be punished for lying to me.'

'More spankings?'

'No, not at the moment. I want your service. Stand up.'

I scrambled to my feet and felt how my body was trembling and how strange it was to become an independent person again, not a being attached to another, being touched and spanked.

'Take those knickers off.'

My knickers were still around my knees. The dress was tight and clung to my body and although the skirt had fallen down a little it barely covered me.

I slipped my knickers down and took them off.

'Give them here.'

I gave him my knickers. Seeing my underwear being held in his hand was strangely intimidating. It was as if some private and embarrassing part of me, of what my body was, had been exposed and held out for scrutiny.

He put them in his pocket.

'Take the dress off.'

I pulled it over my head and held it in my hand. I was naked.

'On the floor,' he said and I dropped the dress on the floor by my feet.

'On your knees.'

I sank to my knees.

'You may lie all you like about enjoying your punishment, I am completely honest when I tell you I like it. Come here.'

I moved closer to him, on my knees. When I approached him, he suddenly spread his legs.

'Maybe you should not think of this as a punishment. Maybe it is better that you think of this as your place, your proper place. When you think of your place, keep this image in your mind, you naked, kneeling between my legs. This is your proper place. Your punishment for lying will come later. There is plenty of time for that.'

He reached out his hand and placed it on my breast. He caressed it for a while, then began to knead it, then he gripped it. He moved from gentle to brutal, as if he wanted to show he could do this, that he had the right to touch me and grope me.

Then he let his hand slip down from my breast and down over my belly. This time he caressed my skin, let his palm and fingers glide over it, touching, arousing it.

I shivered and gasped as he let his hand continue down, over my belly, down over my lower belly, then, inevitable, as it seemed, in between my legs.

'No, you can't come. This moment is not for you. It is for me, only me.'

He sat back and regarded me.

'I want your service, your lip service.' He smiled at his own joke.

I slowly unzipped him. He drew his breath as my fingers dug into the opening, trying to reach for his sex. I moved with gentleness, not wishing to hurt him, not wanting to cause him any discomfort.

He gasped as his warrior was let out, as it sprung to attention. It was a beautiful thing. I looked at it and was torn between a sense that I was embarrassing him by exposing his sex and a strange desire to touch and to come close to it.

I heard him moan and I felt him react as my lips finally made contact. He leaned back and breathed heavily as my mouth touched his sex, as my lips caressed him.

Although every kiss, every touch, just put fuel on the fire inside me, I was overcome by a powerful urge to please him, to satisfy this man.

I did satisfy him, I did what he wanted and needed. I was not shy, I was bold as I pleased him.

I sat back on my heels, my back straight, my bosom a little forward, my head bowed, hands on my thighs. He was reclining, moving awkwardly, as if he finally remembered that he was sitting on a hard wooden chair.

His dress was back in order. He was again properly dressed. I was still naked, still waiting.

He leaned forward and took my chin in his hand, tilting my head up, looking into my eyes.

'Your punishment will have to wait.'

'Yes,' I said.

'I love you,' he said.

'Thank you.'

'Now, dress, we have a table booked for dinner. I am hungry.'