I don’t know how long we stayed in this communion, though Ana’s excellent little arse had been smacked a bright, tomato red, and her skin blazed heat under my hand. She showed no discomfort at all. Eventually I stopped the spanking, and pressed the thumb of the hand I’d been spanking her with against her asshole. I said, “Now, Ana, come now. Good girl. Come.” 

Ana made a gutteral, throaty noise, and worked herself on my hand. I smacked her again, hard, because she would want to feel more, more of everything, and after a few seconds she remembered to say, “please, please may I come please may I come please.”

I’d already given her permission, but I was pleased she couldn’t think straight or remember a few seconds back. (And I could have quibbled since she hadn’t said sir, but that would be stupid. She’d done well.) “Yes, girl. Go. Now.”

A few seconds later Ana screamed. Her head and hands lifted from the floor and she shook her head furiously and screamed again.

I held her tight so she could feel me and know she was safe from falling, and she breathed, making a sound that was something like “og og ogogogog,” and then she screamed again, the loudest of all.

Then she collapsed, flopped back over my knee with her head hanging down, her hair a few inches from the carpet. 

Ana shrilled, “Pleeeese.” It was nearly a scream. I took my hand away from her cunt, and stopped her spanking.

“Not yet, girl. Stay on the edge, stay ready. But don’t you dare come, or I’ll take my belt to you.” 

“Oh.” Her head drooped. Her body shone with sweat. She panted with the effort of holding back that orgasm.

“Good girl. It’s good for you, doing as you’re told.”

We say things like this, we doms, because we don’t have a script and the material we come up with while we’re focussed on bodies is not always good. Fortunately, submissives want us to succeed and not to be ridiculous. I wasn’t sure if Ana was a submissive, though I was sure that she was enjoying the experiment of submission. Still, she was an uncritical audience, deliberately so. 

Her hips moved again, as if my hand was still there to push against. “Oh please. Jaime, please. I need to come.”

I put that thumb back in her cunt, with her clitoris held in the palm of my hand. And I resumed her spanking, firmly but not too hard. I kept the smacks regular, and unhurried, and soon she was drifting again, her hips rising and falling.

She pressed her cunt against my hand. Some fluid had leaked past my fingers, wetting a patch in my suit pants.

I said, “No, Ana, hold still.” I pushed her ass down and held it there. “You can’t come without my permission. That’s a rule. From now on. Understood?” 

Ana breathed hard. She’d been shocked. Eventually she said, “Yes.” 

“Yes, sir.”

There was a pause. Ana probably had called a man sir before, but ut had probably been a teacher. It hadn’t been a man who’d stripped her of all her clothes and most of her dignity, and who was about to celebrate by fucking her. But she’d heard about sex that went like this, so it made sense. I raised my hand again, and she hurriedly said, “Yes sir.” 

I put my thumb in her cunt and caressed her clitoris, stroking and occasionally smacking, until she was floating again, her body rising and falling on my knee, hovering somewhere near an orgasm. Still stroking her, I spanked her with my other hand, firmly enough for her to feel it, but not hard enough to hurt.

Ana’s breath came harsher, and faster. I sped up the stroking, and made the spanks harder, and her nasal noises started again. I said, “Ask permission first.”

“Please may I come?”

“‘Please may I come’ what?” 

“Muh? Wha? Ah, sir! Sir! Please may I come, sir?”

“Would you like to come?”

“SIR! Please.“

“Stay on the edge, Ana. But not yet.”

“That’s right. But when you’re a good girl, Ana, and you do as you’re told, you get rewarded. I asked you if you wanted your cunt stroked. Well, do you?”

“Mmmmmmm.” Ana arched her ass up again. Her thighs were parted so that she was practically doing the splits, her feet in the air, pointing to different continents. I pondered her little asshole. Had anyone had it yet? 

Ana said, “Ah god.” She held her clenched fists to her face. “Ah. Fuck. Fia mea.”

I put my hand back, rubbing the edge of my palm against her swollen lips. I said, “Oh, I will, little bratty goddess.” 

Ana held her breath. My hand, rubbing her cunt, was wet from my wrist to my fingertips.

I stroked for another minute, until Ana was shaking, with her clenched fists held to her face. She was making little noises through her nose. She was close to coming. 

I let her fuck the edge of my hand a few more times before I took my hand away. I smacked her. “Don’t you dare come.”

Ana said “Whaaaaaaaaa?” It was half question and half scream. 

“Good. So when I spank you, from now on, Ana, you should remember to tell yourself that it’s your fault. You didn’t have to do whatever earned you that spanking. You chose your behaviour, and so you chose to get spanked.” 

“Yes.” She made the word into two syllables, and packed an impressive amount of sarcasm into those syllables. So she felt my hand lift from her ass. “No! Please!”

This time she got sixteen hard spanks on her lower buttocks. She was very energetic while I spanked her, arms flailing, ass bouncing and legs kicking. And she was vocal: “Ow! Ow! No! Ow! Shit! Ouch! Owowow!” And so on. She was having a wonderful time.  

I stopped and waited, hand still poised, wondering if she was going to say something like, “Is that all you’ve got?” or, “Huh! Didn’t even hurt!” Somehow that seemed likely to be her style.

But for the moment she was subdued. Her lower bottom glowed a beautiful dark pink, and was deliciously warm when I lowered my hand (Ana shivered at that movement), and rubbed her gently.

“Good. You don’t get to be a brat any more, Ana. What happens to brats?”

Her voice was tiny. “Brats. Get. Spanked?” The last word was pronounced so quietly and so high in pitch that I didn’t actually hear it, though I knew what it was. 

I got an “ouch” from Ana with the fifth smack, and after that she had something to say about every spank. She got two more on her left side, because I didn’t want her to think that spankings came in multiples of six. That would make them predictable, to some extent. Then I gave her eight smacks, just as hard, on the right side. Ana writhed spectacularly, like a fish on a boatdeck. She said, “ow”, and “ouch” pronounced as written, as the smacks landed. People don’t say things like “ouch” if they are actually hurting.

I stopped, still holding her in place. Her legs had splayed a little further open, and her cunt was swollen and more than a little wet. “Would you like your cunt stroked some more, Ana?”

“Please.” Then her voice turned sulky. “You hurt me.” 

“You deserved it. Now, if you listen to me you’ll get my hand back. Back stroking your cunt, I mean. Are you listening?”

“Yes!” The impatience in her voice told me that she hadn’t been hurt at all. She was still being a brat.

I smacked her again, on the undercurve of her buttocks, just above her thighs. “Listen better. Now. If I tell you to do something, you do it straight away. If you don’t, or you give me cheek, or you do it half-assed, I’ll give you a sore backside. It’s completely simple. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” That sounded almost sincere.  

Ana didn’t move.The order I’d given her was too embarrassing for her. There’s a difference between opening your thighs for a man, and obeying him when he tells you to spread your legs. She wasn’t sure if she would give me what I wanted. I sighed. “Ana, when I give you an order, I expect you to do as you’re told. Quickly. Didn’t you understand that?”

Ana arched her ass up a little further. She was sure that would please me.She could feel my cock, hard, against her hip. Then, slowly, her thighs parted. It took her an effort of will, and her body felt very stiff.

I slipped my hand between her thighs and stroked her lightly, fingertips running up and down sensitive and damp skin, outside her lips, as if I was slowly strumming a washboard. I felt her relax again. Over my knee was a good place to be. “Ana, you’re supposed to obey immediately. I’m not going to put up with waiting around while you think about it. Do you understand that?”

She breathed, “Yes.” Most of her attention was on those fingertips brushing her cunt.

“And if you don’t obey immediately, you get punished.”

“Ah.”

“Like this.” I didn’t really have her attention until I put one hand on her left cheek, and pulled it a little apart from its equally cute neighbour. With the hand I’d used to stroke her cunt I smacked inside that hidden valley, on the left side. The first smack shocked her into immobility, but she was all movement after the second one landed, bucking and jolting over my knee. I held her down, still holding her hard little buttocks apart, aiming the smacks as close to her cunt as I could reach.

Ana turned. She still had her hands on her head, and the posture made her uncertain. She’d been happy about flashing me, the night she’d stayed on my couch, but this time her nudity was at my discretion. And I was looking at her, unsmiling. She liked the display, and at the same time wanted to cover her breasts and cunt with her hands.

Similarly, she’d liked being punished, when she’d hesitated about undressing. The spanks didn’t really hurt, though she’d wanted my sympathy for her suffering. But being smacked meant she’d done something wrong. She didn’t want me to think she was bad.

She took a step forward, coltish and awkward. I put the book down. “You can take your hands down now. Good girl.”

Ana put her hands together, in front of her cunt. She looked at me, hoping that was right. I’d meant to be unsmiling and serious but I couldn’t help breaking that resolution. Ana liked being smiled at, and she looked relieved. I said, “You were wondering if you were going to get extra smacks for covering your cunt. Weren’t you?” 

“Yes. I guess.” She was nervous. 

“Of course you are. Put your hands together behind your back, Ana, and come here.”

She crossed the floor quickly, and stood in front of me. She represented an enormous temptation. I wanted to tell her to drop to your knees, and guide her mouth onto my cock. But I wanted to give her a new experience, and she must have had that one before. Even Manaia would have known how to get his cock sucked.

“Stand at the side of the chair. That’s good. Now get over my knee. You’ll be all right, Ana; just do as you’re told.” 

Ana was out of practice. She bent at the waist, and put her hands on my further, right thigh, and lowered herself. Once she’d draped her body more or less over my knee, and her ass was the highest part of her body, she dropped her hands to the carpet, to steady herself and take some of her weight. I liked her weight. She’d rested her body on mine. It felt trusting. 

I put my hand on her ass. My client’s ass. I shook my head at that thought. The moment had much too much power for me to stop. I patted and squeezed that flesh, and felt Ana relax. Time to hear her come. I smacked her smartly to make her hiss, and said, “Spread your legs.”  

Ana stood naked in the corner, her nose to the wall and her hands on her head. She tried not to jiggle with nervous energy while I watched her slender back. I’d told her once to keep still, and she knew I’d reinforce that order with a hand across her bottom if I had to repeat it. But she couldn’t keep still. It wasn’t her natural state. 

Her bottom was smaller than Sa’afia’s, apple-cheeked where Sa’afia was a little riper and softer: a mango woman, perhaps. Sa’afia had graced that very same corner in the same posture, just a couple of months ago, so it was hard not to compare them. It’s important not to be original about rituals. Ana wanted to experience submitting, and that meant I had to put her into settings in which she knew the meaning of the postures she was told to assume, and the time she was made to wait

I’d pulled over a kitchen chair, because it had no arms to get in the way when she put herself over my knee. I pretended to read while I waited, but most I watched her. Ana bounced on her heels and twisted from side to side. She hadn’t dared glance back at me, since I’d threatened to take my belt to her if she did, but she would if I left her much longer. 

She’d had her first order, when I’d told her to strip, and her first punishment, when she’d stopped before she took off her bra and knickers. I’d grabbed her arm without warning, and – ignoring her protests – smacked her bottom, hard, about twenty times before telling her to get naked as she’d been told. She’d liked those things, I knew. And she’d had no hesitation in stripping properly naked, once I’d spanked her. 

But what had dropped her, properly, into submission was seeing the blank look I’d given her when she’d complained that her spanking had hurt. As if I couldn’t even imagine or understand that she thought it mattered if she got her bottom hurt.

I’d been acting, of course, but she’d stared and swallowed once she understood. It seemed she liked being in a world where she did as she was told, and she could tell herself that she didn’t matter.

So Ana waited, with goosebumps on her shoulders and down her flanks. I turned a page on my book, letting Ana hear it. But I was thinking about the stick that Sa’afia had given me. It was a fearsome implement, and we’d had a lot of pleasure from it. Should I use it on Ana?

It seemed a kind of unfaithfulness to Sa’afia to use it on her cousin. On the other hand, Sa’afia had married another man, and she was gone. Perhaps notions of faithfulness didn’t apply. I wasn’t sure. Anyway, Ana had waited long enough. 

I said, “Ana. Turn around.”

Ana undid the top button of her blouse. She looked up, watching my eyes throughout the little bow she took, to see if I glanced down at her warm, brown, slightly conical breasts. I said, “Off-white, lacy plunge bra. You’ve been shopping. Lovely breasts, that’s not new.”

“But you noticing, that’s new.”

“God. No, it isn’t. But if you thought I wasn’t noticing …”

“I thought you were gay. And then that you were made of stone. And then I thought you didn’t want me.” She managed to look hurt, convincingly. “I wanted you. Now you’re looking at me.”

“Yeah well. I was trying to be…” I didn’t want to speak the word “professional”. I was about to fuck a client. “Ah fuck it.” I took a sip of beer. “Anyway, you’re going to get that spanking you’ve been angling for for the last year.”

“Just a spanking?” Ana took a long sip of the Tequila Sunrise. She just had some of the red and the bottom layer, which was green, to go. She drank her cocktails with great care.

“And if that doesn’t mean I fuck you afterwards, I’d be pretty amazed.”

Ana scooped up the last of the grenadine, making it chortle through the straw like the end of a milkshake. “I wouldn’t be surprised at all.” She tipped the straw. The grenadine ran dark pink under the shirt, and onto the slope of her left breast. It would be hard to get it out of the bra. She shivered deliciously as the granulated ice liquified on her skin, and ran down the slope of her breast.

I stood and reached for her glass, putting it out of her reach. “We’re going to my place. Now.” I took her hand and pulled her out of her chair. Ana followed me, but at the door she took one last look back at our table.

She’d never walked away from a cocktail before.