Probation officer #40: “Why spank her if she’d only enjoy it?”

I was puzzled by Sa’afia’s suggestion – demand, really – that I spank Ana. I knew that if I did I’d have a good time, so long as Ana was having a good time too. But I had no reason to think Ana was submissive, and if she wasn’t going to enjoy it what would be the point? I couldn’t imagine spanking someone who didn’t want it. So I said, “Why should I spank Ana? Do you think she’d enjoy it?”

Sa’afia looked at me. I’d said something genuinely strange. “What? Why would she enjoy getting a spanking?” She frowned. “If she was going to enjoy it, why would you do it? That’s…” We looked at each other, having achieved mutual incomprehension.

Then Sa’afia said, “Oh.” She laughed. She was still stroking my cock. “Oh, you mean, like a pervy sex thing? Oh Jaime, you palagi, you’re filthy.”

(Palagi is pronounced “pah-lang-ee”, where “lang” sounds like the German word “lang”, or perhaps “larng”, if you say larng quickly. Palagi can mean “anyone who isn’t Samoan”, but mostly it means “white people”, especially English-speaking ones. It’s not a derogatory term, though if you hear it snarled at you in a certain tone of voice, it might be a good idea to duck. Sa’afia said it affectionately.)

I said, disingenuously, “Well, I don’t know. I know some people enjoy it. Spanking or getting spanked. Or they do both.”

Not boney.

Not boney. Bonny.

“Palagi think everything comes down to  sex. No, I meant you should spank Ana because she’s been messing with you. That’s disrespectful. She deserves it. Put her boney little ass over your knee.”

“It’s not a boney little ass.”

“It’s not like mine. Yeah?” Sa’afia wriggled. She was facing me, but that wiggle worked on my imagination. 

Both asses were perfect, as far as I could tell, but Sa’afia’s slightly more womanly ass was the one on my bed. I said, “Oh yes. Yes, your ass is very very very fine.”

“Thank you.” She poked a finger at my chest. She was vehement about this. “And once you’ve got her over your knee, you get whatever she’s wearing off: right off. That’s how it works. And you smack her. And you do it right.  Not so she enjoys it. To make her behave, silly man.” She glanced down at my cock.

I didn’t want attention drawn to my cock just then. And I didn’t want to think about where this sudden fervour for the discipline of her cousin had come from: Was she jealous of Ana? Was it something she, Sa’afia, wanted herself? Or had Ana put her up to the whole thing? I’d have to explore that some time, but not now.

I said, “You’re a fine one to talk about being filthy. For starters, you’ve got lettuce on your …” And I dived and took a little fold of belly, and the lettuce shred, between my teeth. I bit lightly and shook my head like a terrier, so that she shivered. I speared the little piece of lettuce with my tongue and made it go away, and veered downhill, the further two inches to her cunt. Salty girl, she was.

Sa’afia put her hands on my head and fell back with a whumpff of pillows. So that conversation was over.

And though she’d stopped thinking, I now had a perfectly good explanation and justification for presenting her with an erection.

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