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?”

Maires looked up at me, amused. “I’m sure Stephanie’s already guessed, Master. But of course they’re harder.” Then she looked back into Stephanie’s eyes. “And so they should be. You know that.”

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.” 

It was the fiirst time Stephanie had been called a slave. Oddly, she didn’t seem to notice. I rubbed her arse again, appreciating the firm, red heat of her, and reached down to stroke her cunt.

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?”

“”‘Little?'”

“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.

Stephanie and I had just fucked fairly vigorously on the carpet. I’d picked Stephanie up, carrying her in my arms, to my bed. But Maires, my girlfriend, had just had sex, or something of the kind, with a man with half his face painted red and a wooden toucan on his shoulder. Who, I’m afraid, doesn’t appear again in this story, although he did seem to be fascinating to women. Maires had come into our room and congratulated us, which in practice meant mainly Stephanie, on the beauty of our orgasm noises. 

Stephanie remembered that she’d agreed with me that Maires could join us when she, Maires, was ready. But now she was embarrassed. So Maires had asked her personally for her permission to join us. 

Stephanie looked up at me. I smiled at her, then had to clear my throat. “You don’t have to agree to anything you don’t want. I mentioned that it gets incredibly cuddly, if you have both me and Maires here. But all the options are good, whatever you decide.” 

Stephanie’s “ernnnn” was a growl. Maires looked disappointed, and was ready to leave, but I recognised it: it was the sound my mom made, when she was about to agree to something but wanted me to know it was a big concession on her part. So I lifted her a little and kissed her. 

Stephanie laughed, with the absurdity and promise of the moment, and Maires finally relaxed.

“All right,” Stephanie said. “You two fucking weirdos. Do your worst.”

I lowered Stephanie to the bed. She put her hands over her breasts and clamped her legs together. I figured she was joking. I said, “I promise it’ll be a good worst. Maires, I think you’re overdressed.” 

Stephanie slowly spread her legs, which had a hypnotic effect on me. Then she raised her knees, still spread, and pointed her toes at the ceiling. Maires said, “Holy fuck. Fuck, Stephanie. That’s fucking…”

Then she shut up, and pulled her shirt over her head, and dropped it on the floor, then dropped her jeans to join the shirt. 

I joined Stephanie, with my cock poking at her hip, and smacked her bottom. She dropped her legs to the bed and looked at me, trying to be indignant. I kissed her left, nearer knee, which was red and rough and painfully abraded by our carpet fuck. “These need treatment. Maires, go and get anti-septic cream.” 

Maires hesitated. She was supposed to do as she was told when we were together. But it was the first time I’d given her a direct order in front of someone else. On the other hand, I’d just smacked Stephanie’s bottom in front of her. So she decided there were the rules, and anyway they were likely to be fun. She said, “Sir, then.” And she left for the bathroom, naked as she was.

Stephanie grinned at me. “You’re a bad man. Someone should spank you.” 

I kissed her. “It just doesn’t work like that. Life is unfair. And do you think I’m going to spank you, even for suggesting that?” 

Stephanie rolled over, poked her arse up, and wiggled. “Go on, then.”

I felt the invitation, and the urge to act on it.

But instead I kissed her bottom, and then her thighs. Stephanie sighed, and spread her thighs wider. I said, “All in good time. Now roll over, girl. On your back, knees up.”

Maires arrived then with Savlon and gauze. She climbed on the bed too, on Stephanie’s right side, and kissed her knee. “Poor little limb. Injured in the cause of love.”

She took two pieces of gauze, squeezed out a dollop of Savlon onto each, and handed me one of the gauze pieces.

I dabbed at Stephanie’s left knee, while Maires cooed and did the same on her side. She leaned down and kissed Stephanie’s inner thigh. So I did the same.

“Obviously,” I said to Stephanie, “we intend to offer the total burns recovery care package.” It was an incredibly lame thing to say, but I hoped she wasn’t in a critical mood. Anyway, it did give her information.

Stephanie let her head sink back onto the pillow. She didn’t need to watch us any more. After we’d cleaned her knees, and soothed them as best we could, we gave our attention to Stephanie’s inner thighs, mouthing, tonguing and occasionally biting her flesh, working our way, very, very slowly closer to her cunt.

Stephanie made a sound that was half sigh and half grunt. She was enjoying our worst. Maires bit very lightly on the inner side of Stephanie’s thigh. Maires looked over at me. Her eyes were bright. “Meet you in the middle.”

Stephanie waited, naked, on my floor, her face, her outspread arms and her breasts touching the carpet, and her ass up and poised.

It’s just about the sexiest position a woman can assume. Nothing says, “I need to be fucked,” like lordosis. 

I bent down and touched her hair. I said, in my softest, gentlest voice, “Good girl.” Stephanie grunted. It was the thiurd time I’d told her, but now She was deeply in the state of mind in which “Good girl” is a comfort.

Then I pulled her hair, medium hard, to remind her who we were being to each other in that room, and while she sighed, taking that in, the knowledge that she was a girl who got her hair pulled, I lowered myself to the floor behind her, my knees between hers, my cock pressing urgently against her sweet and very wet cunt.

I didn’t move, though. Stephanie’s hips made little micro-movements of need, wanting me inside her. But she knew I didn’t want her to rock her ass back and take me.

It wasn’t that she knew I’d punish her if she did, though I certainly would. It was that she liked this game and she wanted to be good. And maybe be called ‘good girl’ again.

So we stayed like that, Stephanie waiting, presented for fucking, being tormented.

I was tormented too, of course, but it’s different when you know when it’s going to and. Or begin. 

I said, “Keep still. That’s a good girl.” It was so difficult not to take her immediately and hard. One hard push forward. But I let another minute pass, caressing the sides of her breasts, and moving my hands back to hold her, firmly, by her hips. Then at last I moved forward, letting the head of my cock touch slick, wet, needy cunt, and pressed a little further forward so her lips parted for half of the head of my cock. It was like being kissed in welcome. Stephanie made a sound that was close to a sob, then sucked in her breath. She knew she still didn’t have permission to move. 

I mentioned at the start of this story that I’d known Stephanie for years. I knew her family, too. Stephanie was a spoiled girl. She’d never really needed permission for anything while she was growing up. Waiting for permission now, being obedient, was a new experience for her. Clearly, she was finding it hot, in this context.

I said, “Stephanie.” 

“Yes. Jaime?” 

“You can rock back now, and take more of me. Just the head of my cock. If you go further… Well, my belt’s on the floor here. Understand?” 

There were a lot of things she could have said about that. But she took the belt threat without questioning it. She said, “Urrrrrnh.”

I hoped I wouldn’t have to use the belt. Not tonight; it wouldn’t fit the mood. But her acquiescence to the idea in principle made my cock just a little harder. I think she felt that.

She moved back, very carefully, impaling her soft centre on me. My glans covered in her, held tightly, I squeezed my fingers, hard, on her hips. We’d wanted each other for years. It was something to savour.

Then I raised my right hand and smacked her, just for the joy of it. I pushed further in, then back, half an inch back and one inch forward, each time.

Stephanie’s face was turned back to look at me, and her mouth was open. She’d dribbled on the carpet. We moved forward, then back.

Neither of us had any thoughts, any things to say.

I moved forward a little further, then back, and then forward again. Stephanie started to move now that most of my cock was in her, rocking on her knees, fucking me, pleasuring herself. 

At last my pubic bone and stomach pressed against her ass. We were fully joined. I said, “Stephanie, you are good. And sweet. And beautiful. And…” 

She moved and I shut up. Suddenly, we were fucking as fast and hard as we could. My knees rubbed on the carpet, painfully, and I didn’t care. She was going to lose skin too. 

Stephanie picked herself off the ground, after her post-orgasmic descent of the slide, while some good citizen, who must have heard her coming and then loudly protesting that I was an utter bastard, switched his front lights on. A second later he opened his door. I could see him, but he couldn’t see us. Stephanie was all for running back to my place, naked as she was. But I joined her, carrying her little white shorts and even littler white panties. She whispered, “There’s… people.”

I whispered, “And you thought they’d lose interest if you ran naked across the road to my place?” Then I smacked her pale, moonlit arse, firmly enough to be felt, but light enough for the sound not to travel.

Stephanie gave me frowns. She wasn’t calm yet. “Well, what else..?”

“We disappear for a bit. Come with me.” I took her hand and led her back to the swings. They were in darkness, protected from the street lights by trees and the corner of a wall. Stephanie looked at me with disbelief, and more frowns. So I smacked her bottom again.

“Sit.”

“You’re crazy.” But she sat in the swing.

“Good girl. Now spread your thighs.” Stephanie obeyed. She’d left a landing strip of short, fairish hair above her cunt. She knew I’d think her cunt was pretty, even in the murky depths of our twilight.  

I smiled. “That’s a hot little cunt. You need to be fucked soon, don’t you?”

“Glad you noticed. Ow!” The Ow! was because, her bottom out of reach, I’d squeezed her nipple. She held on to the chains on either side of the swing’s wooden seat. She made no attempt to protect her nipple. If I thought she needed a small, measured portion of pain, obviously that was for me to decide.

I said, “Now put your hands on your cunt. Both hands, Steph. Don’t worry, you won’t need to hang on. I mean, not to the swing.”

Stephanie put her hands down, and, when I nodded, began to stroke herself, faster and harder than I would have. I waited till she made her first gasp, almost silently, and took hold of the chains. I tugged my underpants down a little so my cock flicked free, more or less at her nose. “Now open your mouth, girl.” 

She opened wide, and took in my cock, then tightened her lips on the shaft, sucking hard. Enthusiastically. I let the swing do the work, mostly keeping still while her body rocked back and forth on the seat, her mouth taking my cock deeper and then almost-but-not-quite releasing. Time past, while she stroked herself and pleasured me. She made another small, happy whine, and suddenly I let go of one of the chains, and pressed the back of her head, making her take all of my cock into her mouth and throat. 

I began to move at last, fucking her mouth hard. At one stage she choked, but I didn’t let her draw back. She coughed once, then again, and then took my cock as deep as it would go. Hungrily. This was more than Stephanie being a good girl demonstrating her skills; this was Stephanie enjoying herself.

She made another pleasured sound, and I put both hands on her shoulders, letting her choose how deep my cock would go, but pumping my hips, fucking her mouth hard. I wanted her to feel me taking my own pleasure with no consideration for her. I figured – no, I knew – she’d like that.

Usually I give some sort of spoken warning, but it was clear that Stephanie didn’t need it. I made one thin nasal moan, trying my best to keep the sound down, and came in her, cock pumping, spurting deep in her throat, my body in spasm. I had to grab the swing’s chains to stop myself falling over.  

Stephanie swallowed, running her tongue along and around my cock. I wanted to say things, and breathe hard, but I was still aware that there was a guy out of his front porch, listening. Not, I judged, that he could hear us. He’d be worried about vandalism, not sex, but I was reasonably sure he’d disapprove of sex too. It was inappropriate in a children’s park, even at one in the morning. 

Stephanie stopped licking and swallowing my cock clean, eventually, and looked up at me. There was a little drool of my come and her saliva, down from the left corner of her mouth. She licked it away quickly, and something about that sight, and the movement of her tongue made my cock twitch in her mouth.  

The light went out, and the front door closed. I withdrew from her mouth, though I was still half-hard. Stephanie smiled. “I thought he’d never fuck off. Um, shall we? Again?”

Stephanie reached the fourth step from the top of the slide. Her ass was level with the slide. I stood on the ground, still gazing up at her thighs, admiring the softly muscled crease of her buttocks and thighs. I said, “Stop. That’s just right.”

She looked down at me while I climbed up to join her. I stood on the fifth step from the top, so my cock, not quite contained by my underpants, was more or less level with her ass. I pressed my body against hers. This was the most intimately we’d touched, so far. My cock pressed, admiring, desiring, against her ass, and knew it was comfortable there. Her ass was the place for my cock to be. Stephanie pressed back against me, not only to keep warm.

I put my arms around her bare back, and held her breasts in my hands. Her nipples were hard with cold and arousal, rubber bullets between my thumbs and forefingers.

Stephanie turned, “Are we going to slide down together?”

She was thinking, I guessed, of my promise that her arse wouldn’t get cold on the metal of the slide. “Probably. You can sit on me.”

She smiled. “You can be in charge of keeping my arse warm. You spank Maires, don’t you?”

“Oh?” I hadn’t been aware I was in gossip quite that detailed. On the other hand, Maires was not a discrete kind of girl. “Well, yes. When she wants me to.”

Stephanie raised her eyebrows. “Oh. That’s all her, is it?”

“No, sorry. I just meant, I don’t do anything she doesn’t want. I wouldn’t do anything  that you don’t want. Just being clear. But of course that’s not just just what she wants: I like spanking her. It’s, um, hot. Great ass, that Maires. Don’t you think?”

She looked away for a second. “Well, I’m not really into girls. But yes, she has a nice bottom. If you liked spanking girls, I can see that Maires would…” She looked back at me. She was blushing slightly. “Ah, anyway, yes, she’s got a nice arse. Fantastic legs. And I’m told she’s good at cunnilingus. By her boyfriend, no less.”

She was winding me up. I swung my body round to the side of the steps so we could press together and kiss properly. Stephanie nodded, and pressed into me, hard nipples against my shirt. I held onto the metal bar at the top of the slide with my left hand so I could put my right hand on her bottom. Stephanie sighed.

I patted her pretty little bottom, so lightly. I heard a chuckle from her, so I smacked her little harder. She kissed my neck. I smacked her again, a little harder still. I wondered if there was a point where she’d complain, but I didn’t want to find out. So I left my hand on her ass, kneading and fondling.

I focussed on the kiss. We opened our mouths. Her tongue touched my teeth. She put her arms round me, holding on to me and not the slide. She was depending on me. Literally. We kissed, changing the angle and exploring. My cock was pretty much entirely free of my underpants. It was, um, engorged. It was not cold. 

Stephanie eventually opened her eyes again. “Shall we slide?” 

“Hang on. No, I mean, hang on to the slide.” When she’d straightened and gripped the rails again, I swung my body back behind her. She waited. “Now, bend over.” 

“What?” 

“I promised you your ass wouldn’t get cold. I never made any promise about your tits. Bend over now. So your upper body’s on the chute. It’ll be cold, but it won’t matter.”

“You’re crazy, if you think–”

“Bend over, little Stephanie.” There was a pause. Stephanie considered various things. Which was stronger: cold, or fun and lust? Twenty seconds passed before I could say, “Good girl.”

“Hmmph!” But she said that with her head pressed against cold metal, her bottom the highest part of her body.  

I climbed up one more step, and let her feel my cock slide between her upper thighs. She said, “Oh, jesus.” We stayed together like that, moving very slowly and very slightly together, savouring every micro-movement.

But eventually I drew back, and reached under her to undo the top button of her shorts. And I tugged. Down.