Stephanie rested over my knee, gazing into Maires’s eyes, as Maires knelt in front of her. They held eye contact, but Stephanie put her hands together to hold my right foot. She said, “Second quarter. Six more.” Then she wiggled on my lap, breaking her promise not to be a minx. “Do your worst.”
I could have added extra spanks for that, but the truth is that I was too pleased that Stephanie was having fun. So I rubbed her bottom gently. “I’ll do my best. Maires, in one of my spankings, are the second six lighter or harder than the first six?”
Stephanie said nothing, but bowed her head.
Her arse had already deepened in colour from pink to red, and my rubbing had confirmed that she was warm. Then my hand landed on her left cheek, definitely harder than I’d ever smacked her before.
She gasped, and her arse bobbed and writhed appealingly while she dealt with the impact. Clearly, she was starting to feel this.
I smacked her again, on te right, and then gave her four more quite hard spanks, so that there were cries to hear, and she needed to be held in place while her spanking reached its halfway point. I asked Maires, “Is she crying?”
“No, Master. Not … quite. But she will be by the second dozen. Won’t you, Steph?”
“Er, I wouldn’t be surprised, Ma’am.”
“Oh, Steph, I’m not anybody’s Ma’am. Well, maybe a submissive boi sometimes, but never a woman. I’m a slavegirl here, same as you.”
She stiffened, raising her head and feet, when my fingers entered her.
I stroked her, inside and out, until her hips were rising and falling again and her breathing was slow and loud. I said, “So how are you doing, after your first dozen, little one?”
“Oh, it’s a thing Doms often call submissives. And slavegirls. It’s very, very affectionate. Well, loving, actually.”
“Oh. It sounds odd. Though I suppose I am quite little. Anyway, I expect I’ll come to like it. Sorry, what was the question? Mas – Sir?”
“How are you feeling now?”
She only gurgled. I was distracting her. I took my fingers out of her and rubbed her heated bottom again. Then she sighed comfortably. “It’s hot. It should hurt, but it doesn’t feel like hurt. Completely different. I feel – I feel very close to you. Emotionally. And I really want your cock tight now. You’re going to make me wait, aren’t you?”
I said nothing, but smacked her lightly, then returned to kneading her arse. She sighed. “There’s something hot about the fact that it’s not up to me. And if I made any demands, while I’m over your knee, you’d find it pretty easy to punish me.”
“Do you like that thought?”
“Yes. I really do. This is so not my usual world. But it’s nice here. Sexy. And safe, weirdly enough.”
“You nearly called me Master, like Maires does. I’m not your Master.”
She hummed a piece of music that I knew I knew, but couldn’t place it at the time. It was, “Annie, I’m not your Daddy.” Kid Creole. That sort of indicates roughly when this was happening..
In the meantime I ignored it. “We have to discuss that and make some agreements first. Would you like to talk about what belonging to me would involve?”
There was a long silence while Stephanie stared into Maires’s eyes. Eventually Maires nodded at her. She said, “Yes. Yes, I would like to have that discussion, Sir.”
“Good girl.” Stephanie wiggled once, and her feet returned to the carpet. She liked being a good girl. “Stephanie, you know I’m not going to be spanking Maires with my hand, when she gets the second half of her punishment. What’s she going to get?”
“Your belt, Sir?”
“Yes. Now, Stephanie, love, you’ve done nothing to deserve the belt.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“But would you like me to use it on you anyway? For your second half? Before we talk about what being a slavegirl means?”
Stephanie raised her head again. She looked back at me, astonished.