The Ojastara Tales: The Landgrave 4

He was begging her for release, his cock hard in the air between them. A small quantity of what the Germans called “yearning droplets” caught the light at the top of his penis. Ojastara leaned forward again, so her breasts touched his chect and his cock rutted against her stomach. She undid the leather round his wrist and thumbs, freeing his hands. Taking his left hand in hers, she held it to her mouth and spat copiously.

Then she sat back upright on his thighs, picking up the riding crop again and looking down at him fiercely. “If you want to come, little Landgrave, you can. Use your left hand. I’ll watch you.”

He stared up at her, desperation in his eyes. “Please…”

She flicked his cock warningly with the crop. “You know, I think you’d come if I just whipped this little cock. Would you like…”

He wouldn’t, it seemed. He reached for his penis, left-handed, and began to stroke. He gasped at the contact, and his stomach muscles tightened. He let out a great gust of breath, closed his eyes, and the circle of his thumb and forefinger stroked his cock at almost frantic speed.

Ojastara smacked his chest with the crop again. “Open your eyes! Don’t you dare close them again!” So he stared into her eyes as his body rose from the bed, his weight resting on his shoulder and ankles.

He said, “Mistress…” And he came, gasping as fluid spurted, in two streams, the first reaching nearly as high as her eyes, the second perhaps half that distance. None of it touched her. His head fell back.

Ojastara arose. The Landgrave looked up at her. His voice hardened, even as his cock softened. “An interesting moment of lust, to be sure. But you are staying with me.”

She looked at the riding crop in her hand, and then smiled at him. “No, Landgrave. I have taught you some things about yourself. I think you need to take the time to digest that knowledge. But I’ve done my part.”

And she walked away. The Landgrave scrambled to his feet, then stopped suddenly. Ojastara’s foxes had appeared at the pavilion’s door. All had drawn back their lips to expose sharp teeth. Foxes are smaller than wolves, but the Landgrave knew that a pack would have no trouble dispatching and then disposing of a human. He froze.

Ojastara left, but the foxes waited, still watching over the Landgrave. They were silent, teeth gleaming. 

The Ojastara Tales: The Landgrave 4

Ojastara took the strip of leather she kept round her left wrist and climbed the bed to straddle the Landgrave. Leaning down she kissed him, her thighs closing on his cock to distract him, and wrapped the thin leather strip round his thumbs, then his wrists. He grimaced when he realized that his hands really were trapped, but the touch of Ojastara’s inner thigh made him focus on other concerns.

He looked up at her, something both urgent and haunted in his eyes. “Please…”

Ojastara struck his left nipple, hard, with the tassle of the crop, and he forgot whatever it was that he was about to beg. She struck his right nipple twice, unfairly hard, and then sat herself on his thighs, looking down at him. He writhed, cock rigid in the air, but he could not shake her.

She smiled down at him, his expression drawn with need, and spread her thighs to press her cunt against his right thigh, soft wet fruit against hard muscle. A sweet tension built and grew within her, steadily gaining in power as she pressed herself hard against his thigh. She rode him slowly up, then down, pleasuring herself while he begged for relief. At last she said, as if angry, “You are becoming importunate!” She struck him twice, using the shaft of the crop against his chest. Then, when he was aware of the pain, and that he was marked with two raised red welts, she struck him twice more, without hurry.

“Be good,” she said. “Be silent.” Her mouth quirked. “Behave.”

He stared up at her, barely believing what was happening to him, or within him. “Ah… Yes.” Then he said, “Mistress.”

“Good boy.” Ojastara rode him, harder, faster, and then closed with him so that his cock was pressed between his belly and her ribcage. The pressure on her cunt, and her own exertions, were reaching her, and she felt that she was glowing. Eventually she let her tension go, and she groaned, and gushed against his leg, gurgling in pleasure.

She said, “Ahhh… Sweet.” Then she raised herself from his chest so that his cock prodded, untouched, into the air. 

He looked at her, desperate. “Mistress. Please…”

The Ojastara Tales: The Landgrave 3

Ojastara followed the Landgrave into what turned out to be a pleasant pavilion, with a small fountain, many-coloured drapes and tapestries, some erotic in nature while others showed hunting scenes. A mosaic on the floor showed a human woman atop a unicorn. The unicorn lay on its back and the woman rode its phallus, riding crop in her right hand, showing every sign of enjoyment.

There were couches, love seats that swung from a frame, and indeed, as the Landgrave had promised, a bed. The Landgrave gestured at the bed. “Get on the bed. I want you on all fours, hands and knees. Your ass up. The position you assume to receive discipline and give pleasure.”

Ojastara turned to look at him. “But I’m sure you command this every time. And the women who are your subjects obey you. But I am not your subject, or anyone’s.”

She saw him looking angry at that, and she continued, “And you are generously offering to do all the work, while I am merely passive. There are pleasures in being passive. I enjoyed them while you spanked me. But here we are: no one is watching. Why not experience that pleasure for yourself?”

She stepped towards him, stroked his testes again and then made a ring of her thumb and forefinger, and ran it up his cock.

In response to her touch it went from semi-hard to full attention. She said, “Good cock,” as you might speak to a child, or a dog, and stroked at it more while he gasped.

The Landgrave trembled, overcome with sensation, and she pushed him slowly back towards the bed. When his calf muscles backed against the bed she blew suddenly, while also pressing her hand against his bollocks, and he toppled, onto his back, his erect penis now the highest part of his body.

Ojastara took the riding crop from his hand.  

The Ojastara Tales: The landgrave 2

Ojastara let the landgrave spank her, and rewarded him for it by sucking his cock. It was far from unpleasant. She liked the warmth, and the slight, good hurt, and the way it made the men who spanked her so much more animal, even slightly brutal . There was satisfaction in that. It5 was like having a hard surface to bounce off.

He reached his hand to the back of her head, tightened his grip on her hair, and thrust her forward to meet him as his cock thrust urgently, desperately in her mouth. At that moment they were both focussed on his pleasure, and her pleasure came from her awareness of and sympathy with his urgent need and its satisfaction.

She let him thrust his cock hard and deep into her mouth, sometimes having to will herself to relax when the glans of his penis touched the back of her throat,

She had some control over her gag reflex, but it was not complete control. She put her hand on the base of his cock, eventually, to stop him from going too deep, and used her other hand to stroke his blalls, now tight as if they were clenched.

But after a while he grunted, and slowed. Ojastara guessed he had reached his limit, of how far he could go without coming. And she was pleased that he didn’t want to come in her mouth.

She smiled, his cock still in her mouth, pulsing hard as his heartbeat. He put his hand on her brow, now, and pushed her back a little. He made a high-pitched sound, testifying to the will-power it took for him to put her further back so his cock escaped her mouth and pressed against her cheek.

Ojastara looked up at him and smiled, though she held his balls in her hand. It was insurance for his good behaviour. The Landgrave smiled down at her.

“You’re a dangerous woman and we both know it. But a treasure; we both know that as well. There’s a bed in the next room. If that appeals?”

Ojastara considered. The eve of venues made her less safe, and she had no evidence that he was a good man. But she trusted her instincts – and her skills and pack of attendant foxes. She released his tender, attractively vulnerable oval shells. If he misbehaved she could always use her knee, anyway. 

She said, “Sure, Landgrave, and I trust you. Lead the way.” 

Masturbation Monday: The Ojastara Tales: Ojastara and the Landgrave 1

Ojastara crossed the threshold were the Landgrave apparently waited for her. There had been guards, but they made polite gestures, ushering her in. They intended to make it more difficult for her to leave, she knew. But that was a problem to be considered, lightly, later.

She walked through many carpeted and veiled chambers until, in a small room at the rear of his palace, she found the man who must be the Landgrave. He was in bed, while his subjects worked. But when she arrived he rose from his bed, naked, and walked towards her. She stood her ground, neither retreating nor advancing. “Welcome,” he said. He made to embrace her and she backed away. 

The Landgrave said, “Please, beautiful lady. I know that you pleasured one of my subjects, but took no pleasure for yourself. Unless you include the pleasure of crushing his balls with your skull. Which would at best have been a pleasure of another kind. I offer you pleasure of the kind you had given him. Nothing more than that, and no less.”

Ojastara frowned. “I came here immediately after dispatching your guard. How could you be aware of that incident?”

“This is a fairy-tale kingdom, though I am only a Landgrave for one district. But fairy tale technology applies throughout. I watched you in a mirror. You might call it a magic mirror.” He was smiling. He did not believe in magic mirrors, or expect her too.

“Or a mirror that can reflect scenes at which it is not temporally present, but where it has been before. Light rays travel in space and time. I may not call it magic at all, that that light reached your mirror, and therefore you. But you’re right. I gave that man sexual pleasure, and then unconsciousness. I took no pleasure for myself. Therefore, as his employer, you owe me.” By now she was smiling. This argument was playful, silly even. But silliness often turned her on.

The Landgrave said, “Well, I’d disrobe, but I seem to be unclothed already. Would you like to come to bed?” 

Ojastara, also naked, watched the muscles of his buttocks and thighs as he climbed onto his bed. He turned onto his back, leaning on cushions, and tapped a cushion beside him. Sao Ojastara stepped forward, climbing along the bed on her hands and knees, like a predator; like a fox. She smiled at his penis, which was already more than Hal;f erect, and licked the underside of the head.   

She said, “I suppose I do.”

The landgrave moved suddenly, forcefully, and pushed her mouth off his cock, and her body down, face down, to his bed. His right hand smacked her bottom, six times, hard, while Ojastara squirmed and pretended, with becoming hypocrisy, not to be enjoying herself. The fingers of his right hand pushed lower, and touched her soft lips. Ojastara said, as though it meant a great deal, “Oh!”




Masturbation Monday: The Ojastara Tales: Tale the Second, Part 3

Ojastara’s knees pressed into the grass, and she felt his hand shaking with passion and need as he placed it on the back of her head and pulled her in closer. 

She took her captor’s cock deeper into her mouth, so he was filling her, his glans close to but not quite touching the back of her throat. He was a pretty man, and his cock felt good into her mouth, hard though the skin was so soft and delicate. She loved the feel of that sensitive invader in her mouth, so responsive to her tongue and the suction she applied.

It was a pity the man attached to the cock was, she had to admit, a scumbag. But she licked that hard shaft, along the underside, making him moan.

His cock began to urge deeper into her, fucking her mouth and throat, and she reached behind him and pushed a finger into his asshole. He growled. “Bitch!” And she felt his hand slap her face. But, as she knew would happen, he accepted the penetration. She inserted a second finger, and began to suck him harder and faster. He began to make throaty noises, some guttural and some little more than squeaks. 

At last she knew from his gasping and hard breathing, and the way his cock had expanded in her mouth that he was ready. She placed her hands on his knees and pushed them wider apart.

He growled again: “Fucking little bitch!” He was not a nice man and he was not her friend.

But she let his cock reach the back of her throat, suppressing her own gag reflex, and bit him very lightly. It served as his signal. He gasped in a great breath, and his cock spurted into her, thickly, and she swallowed as he came into her.

His hands slackened on her shoulders, and she gave him fifteen seconds, as a kindness, before she dropped her head.

And then raised it, ramming his bollocks hard and ruthless with solid occipital bone. He made a strange gurgling sound, almost as if he’d swallowed his own tongue, and then said, “ooooh”, as if he were speaking clearly.

He fell to the earth, writhing in pain. Ojastara reached for an artery in his throat, and stopped the flow of blood. In a few seconds he stopped moving. She wasn’t sure whether she had killed him. She said, “If you recover, it would be nice to think that you’ve learned to be less of a jerk.”

But the foxes were approaching, growling. Their mistress had surely been bringing them food. She remembered that she had greater responsibilities than to the man on the ground, and nodded at them. The foxes came forward cautiously to smell their prey. One took an experimental bite of his arm. The teeth were sharp, and skin and muscle ripped. He rolled over, still dazed, and the foxes were on him. 

Ojastara bit the cord from her wrists and then removed the cord from her throat. It was probably wise to leave this place, but her captor and then victim had mentioned a landgrave, a man of stranger tastes and greater power than him. 

She could leave the foxes for now, as they were occupied, but they would join her soon enough. In the meantime she would find this landgrave.


Product buying guide: Floggers on parade!

Doms/Dommes make house calls. Sometimes. Conditions apply. The submissive has to have been exceptionally bad. Or good.

But when we come visiting we can’t take all our paraphernalia with us. Generally the whipping bench and the leather sling attachable to the ceiling have to stay at home. Forlorn.

We have to choose just a few treasured items to take with us.

Some Dom/mes have a basic house call bag. There’s mine, above. As well as those implements it contains the usual stuff: padded cuffs, a collar and leash, nipple clamps, condoms, lubes and so on.

But if I was only going to bring one implement to a scene, it would be a flogger.


In this post “implements” means “things used in impact play, usually on the buttocks and upper thighs.” 

There are two kinds of implements, broadly speaking. Some are rigid or nearly so, like a hairbrush, wooden paddle, ruler, cane and so on. Others are pliable, like a belt or strap, a whip or a flogger.

The difference between a whip and a flogger can get a little hazy, but essentially, a whip has a single tail, or anything up to around five. From the recipients’ point of view, whips are generally thought to deliver a stingy sort of sensation.

Floggers generally start around nine tails (the cat’o’nine tails used in the Navy was essentially a flogger). And from the recipients’ point of view, they deliver a thudding sensation. As most submissives prefer thud to sting, that makes floggers more popular than whips.

Kinds of flogger

There are two basic kinds of flogger. Some have hard lashes, whether of leather or whipcord, rubber or silicon. Others have soft lashes, of soft leather, often suede, or rubber or silicon. 

There’s one more distinction to make. Most floggers have lashes about half to a third of a metre long, and are fairly substantial implements. They can be used while the partners are in bed together, but also for a more formal flogging, in which the submissive is bound, standing up or lying across the bed, while their disciplinarian stands a short way aside from them to deliver the strokes. 

There’s another class of flogger that is much smaller, almost always has soft lashes, of about 10 to 20 centimetres long. These can’t really be used for whole body flogging: they are designed for nipples, cunts, cocks, the sensitive skin between the buttocks, and other areas that couples, or threesomes or whatever, considers to be especially erogenous and sensitive.

1   Flogger with hard lashes

This implement comes closest to being a whip. That’s partly because the lashes are hard like a whip’s tail or tails.

So this implement is best in a relationship where the submissive partner likes more pain than most, and where there is a D/s or M/s relationship. 

The advantage is that it’s easy to use and aim, and though it delivers the right kind of pain, very effectively, it’s unlikely to draw blood or do any harm unless the person wielding it behaves like an absolute maniac. 

The disadvantage of the flogger with hard lashes is simply that it may hurt the submissive more than she or he likes. The Dom/me has to take care and make sure the submissive is feeling sexy and happy. And that may be easier with a soft lashed flogger.

The feedback I’ve had from submissive I’ve flogged using this kind of instrument is that it hurts, of course. A hard flogging will leave redness and sometimes small welts that will last a few days. 

Other submissive reported that the impacts were too intense to be enjoyable as they happened, but that the glowing heat and the sense of having been genuinely punished was worth it. In short, they didn’t enjoy the flogging, but they loved having been flogged.

This implement definitely has its place, but it should be used carefully.

2.  Flogger with soft lashes

The soft lashed flogger is probably the flogger I would take with me on a one-implement mission. It tends to be popular with submissives. It delivers thud much more than sting, and that seems to be the ideal mix in impact play. For most people.

Like the hard-lashed flogger, it’s easy to use and aim. It delivers warm, good-painful sensation, and the blush from a good flogging can last a couple of days. It has to be used extremely hard to get more. That’s a useful fact, for submissives who go swimming, gymming and other activities where they have to change in public or leave their upper thighs or lower buttocks exposed. 

Everybody has different tastes, and that includes submissives. However, I’ve yet to play with a submissive who likes impact play who doesn’t openly or “secretly” love the soft-lashed flogger. It’s relatively gentle, with a kind of warm comfort mixed with the pain. It can safely be used for a long, long flogging while the submissive drifts off to that floaty space where submissives may go.

Though if the Dom/me wants it can be used harder and more punishingly. I like to give a “reminder” stroke every so often, in the middle of a flogging, so the submissive doesn’t feel that their flogging is predictable or within their control.

Disadvantages? At the moment I can’t think of one. I suppose you’d choose something else if you were going for an intense “real punishment” scenario.  

So if I were going to visit a submissive, especially one who is new to “discipline”, and I could bring only one implement, the soft-lashed flogger is the one I’d bring. 

3.   The cute little flogger

This small flogger isn’t one you can usefully use for whole body punishment, unless you have a lot of time on your hands. It’s for flogging erogenous zones, essentially.

Its big advantage is sexual intimacy: you use it at close quarters, to flog your partner’s cock or cunt, their perineum and the sensitive skin between the lower buttocks. And you use it on nipples.

Many small floggers come with a dildo handle, so that when the submit is aroused, the Dom/me can insert the dildo into cunts or anuses, and stimulate their submissive another way. I recommend one of those, so long as you can find one that you think looks stylish.

Generally I like natural fibres best, and my choice for the two larger floggers reviewed above is leather. (I’m leaving vegetarian and vegan issues out of this, for the time being.) However, I’ve found that for this smaller implement silicon lashes are better.

They can be heavier than leather, so that a small implement with short lashes can deliver a satisfactory thud. Silicon also allows for finer lashes than you can usefully get with leather strips. And finally, it’s easier to clean. Do these little floggers have a place in a Dom/mes toolkit? Yes.

General notes

When shopping you should look carefully at the way it’s made. Personally I’ve never had or handled a flogger that wasn’t well made. Standards are high. Still, check before you buy. The handle should be solid, and reasonably weighty.

Some makers produce floggers with quite wide lashes. It’s a matter of taste, but I prefer lashes to be fairly narrow. Maybe a little over a centimetre for a soft lash, a little under a centimetre for a hard lash. But your taste may vary. A shop should allow you to have a practice swing or two, so you get the one that feels right to you. 

Colour is up to you. I prefer the traditional black, though I once bought a pink one, because the intended recipient was a very girlie girl, and though she liked discipline she liked to feel it came with sparkles and a bow. Anyway, colour is up to you. 

Happy flogging! Or being flogged!





The Ojastara Tales: Tale the Second

Ojastara spent the night in the swamp. The swamp was affectionate but, by four in the morning, a little colder than was strictly comfortable. 

In the morning, when the sun had warmed and woken it, she let the swamp feel her gratitude and affection, but told it she had to go. The swamp was reluctant for a few seconds, and Ojastara worried momentarily that it intended to hold her by force. But it relented and she sensed it returning her affection. A section of the mud beneath her swelled and then carried her, bouyant, back to the point where she’d stepped in.

The foxes – those miscreants who had fought over and shredded her dress – were waiting for her. Ojastara considered picking up a stick to beat them off, but the alpha female whined and then licked her hand, so she knew she had nothing to fear. 

She resumed her walk, naked, the foxes forming a guard of honour behind her. At last she came to a wall. It was brick and stucco, and higher than she could climb. Ojastara pursed her lips (one of the foxes swooned at this sight and had to be re-awakened by its mother), and decided to follow the wall until she found a collapsed section or an entrance.  

The wall seemed to be ancient, but it also turned out to be well maintained. There was no tree that she could climb and drop down to the other side, no ivy to clamber up, and no gaps. At last she came to a gate. A young man stepped out as she approached, with a longbow and arrows. He said, “Welcome, naked lady, to Waldenbereich.” 

Ojastara said, “The name means as little to me as if I were a tree. Or swamp. But thank you for your welcome. May I pass through your gate?” 

The young man smiled contemptuously. “You now have the right to do as you’re told, no more than that. Step forward, please, with your hands together behind your back. I can’t add you to my family, but it will do me no harm to give the Landgraf a gift.”

One of the foxes growled, and the young man nocked an arrow to his bow. “If you don’t want your pet to die, tell it to relax.” 

Ojastara signalled to the fox to stay back. She stepped forward, unafraid, with her hands behind her back as ordered. Swiftly, skilfully, the young man tied her hands, and used a spare bowstring to make a slip-knotted leash on her neck.

He tugged, wordlessly, and she followed. Befhind her, foxes growled.


The Ojastara Tales: Prologue 3

Some time after two in the morning, when I was blissfully sleeping it off, my cock feeling well-used and slightly sore, in a good way, from all the hard work I’d done, beating, eating and fucking Ojastara, I felt a hand shaking my shoulder.

Usually I wake up quickly, and pretend I was awake all the time. But this time I really needed the sleep, and I was reluctant to re-enter the waking world. But Ojastara pushed my shoulder again, and said, “More? Once more?” 

So I groaned and finally sat up. “Now I can see why that guy broke a riding crop on your arse. You are getting a dozen, hard, before you go to work. That’s a promise.”

“Excellent! I can’t see my marks. But I like to feel they’re there.”

Ojastara didn’t just mean that she couldn’t see her own arse without a mirror. I’d discovered that evening that you could raise welts on her bottom, and admire those, but her skin didn’t change colour under my hand, or my belt or any other implement. She wasn’t black in the American sense, where even a faint coffee tan is called “black”. She was simply black like coal is black.

I smacked her left breast, quite hard. “Glad to be of service. What do you want?” 

“Fuck me again, Master? Please?” 

I thought about it.”I’d like to, little one. But there’s no way I’m going to get a hard-on again until morning. Real morning. This is the middle of the night. And my recovery time.”

“Please, Master?”

A master’s job is to make his slavegirl happy, and keep her in that state. So I smacked her right breast. She was a big-breasted woman, and the sway was a gorgeous sight. I made a note to do that again, and then fuck her between her breasts, when I was horny again. Then I slapped her face. (I have some internal resistance to doing that, but with Ojastara I knew it would be right.) “All right. On your back. Sitting up a bit.”

So she made a pile of pillows and leaned back on them. “Like this, Master? Are you going to lick me?”

“You woke me. You’re doing all the work. You’re to stroke yourself until you’re ready to come. And you’re going to stay there, on the edge. But you’re not allowed to come until I tell you.”

“Yes, Master. Of course. But what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to tell you a story. While you wank. You’ve got fifteen seconds to come, after I’ve said the works, The End. If it takes you longer, then you weren’t edging.”

“Fifteen seconds!” She managed to sound outraged. I was the unfairest, meanest Master of them all.

“Fifteen seconds. I won’t let you after fifteen seconds, and I’ll find a way to really punish you. Understand?”


Ojastara had already begun obeying, thighs wide, fingers buried, working fast. I smiled at her, though she didn’t notice. “That’s a good girl. Now, once upon a time…”


[End of prologue.] 

The Ojastara Tales: Prologue 1

I was in a relationship with Ojastara, a Tamil woman. We’d met at work, where I was policy consultant for the State Government and she was a lawyer working on a complicated land deal. Part of her job was helping me not screw up the legal niceties, because the issues were more specialised than I was used to.

I told her a story about how a couple of years ago the then Minister had insisted we discriminate against people who’d just been released from prison. It was wrong and outside of that organisation’s establishing Act. There was nothing there about adding to the punishment of people who’d served their sentence. It was socially unhealthy, it was illegal and it would hurt vulnerable people.

I knew the Minister only wanted it because a local shock jock was running a radio campaign to stir up his audience.

She thought I’d fight it on the constitutional issue, that it’s not a possible use of that government agency. But that would only make him mad at me and I couldn’t afford that. So I wrote the Minister a paper showing that  he could do that but if he did he’d have to apply the same policy to other groups, unless he changed the legislation. I knew he wouldn’t want to do either of those things.

So he sent back my advice and and I came up with another solution that would give him what the shock-jock wanted but be unpopular with everybody else. By then three weeks had passed and the shock-jock had got bored and moved on to something else. So my third paper went to the Minister’s office and never emerged again. As I’d planned. 

I meant it as a parable about how government works differently from law. She thought it was funny. So we had a drink in the pub across the road, after work.

Her name, as I mentioned, was Ojastara. She’d been in Australia since she was three, so she wasn’t culturally Tamil, or not much. I asked her if she liked M.I.A. (I do), but she said she liked Celtic music.

The main thing about Ojastara that was different from any other Australian girl was that she had the darkest skin I’d ever seen, at least on someone I’d actually met.

After a while I realised she had the darkest skin of anyone I’d wanted, very particularly and personally, to fuck.

That second category is smaller, but it’s more important to me, of course. She was so black her skin glowed, almost with a trace of blue-black like Superman’s hair. I thought it was beautiful. She was beautiful.

She had an apartment not so far away. She mentioned that after our second glass of wine, when it was clear that we were getting on well. So I put my arm round her while we walked to her place. After a block’s worth of silence she said, “It’s a pity you’re such a rule-breaker. Because I’m a girl who likes strict rules.”

I didn’t immediately realise that was meant as a hint to out herself in case I was sensitive to clues like that. I missed it it the moment, but I  whacked her bum anyway, not very hard, “Well, I’m the rule-breaker. I never said you could break rules. Especially not mine.”

She dodged, but not until after my hand had connected. She laughed at me. “Oh? What sort sort of rules would you want? And do you really think you could hold me to them? I’m a very stroppy lawyer.”

So I stopped, and held her for the first time and kissed her. She had such a sweet face. I said, “Politics beats law, every time.”

She nodded. We’d recognised each other. A policy-maker was going to beat a lawyer, and then fuck her. She said, “But lawyers, we’re famous for not taking any bullshit.”

So I smiled, held her against me, smacked her bottom again, but really quite hard this time, and kissed her.

And that’s this story’s first episode. Tune in again on Wednesday!