Count

I let my head hang and scrunched my eyes closed tight, if I couldn’t see them then maybe I could forget they were there. I would pretend their voices were in my head, part of an elaborate fantasy, rather than a few feet behind me.

His hand struck firmly against my ass and the satisying murmurs echoed around me; I felt my insides begin to squirm. It wasn’t a fantasy, they were there, watching me.

I needed to focus and as his hand came down a second time I knew what to do, count.

As if he had heard my thoughts he gave me three and four, one on each cheek.

By five and six, he’d found his rhythm.

Seven and eight, a little harder.

Nine and ten, the warmth was starting.

Eleven and twelve, I knew I’d be colouring nicely.

Thirteen and fourteen, the sting was little distraction.

Fifteen and sixteen, they’d all be able to see.

Seventeen and eighteen, they’d have watched that gentle pink.

Nineteen and twenty, darken several shades.

He paused, his hand sliding gently over his handwork. He took his arm from across my back and spread me with both hands. The voices weren’t quiet anymore, I couldn’t pretend they were in my head.

“She seems to be enjoying this” the woman’s voice broke through the chatter. “May I?”

There was no audible response but from the increased weight of his elbow against me and a little dig of his fingertips, I knew. Her finger brushed against my lips and a breath I didn’t know I was holding escaped all at once. She dipped her finger just slightly and pulled the wetness down to my clit, circling it, teasing. I wanted to fight against it but my hips couldn’t resist a gentle sway.

“She seems to enjoy this too” I could hear the smirk in her voice. “Let’s see how much more she enjoys it after ten more.”

Good Girl

She was so confident I’d never do it, her swagger said it all. She thought she was in control but tonight that was going to change.

She was dressed perfectly; she knew everyone was watching as we left the restaurant to head for home. She strutted between the tables, her bottom wiggling with every step.

I helped her into the car and listened as she talked the whole journey home. As usual I couldn’t get a word in and chose to not even try, I would get my say soon enough.

She carried on telling me about things I couldn’t give a damn for as we entered the house. Closing the door behind us I followed her as she climbed the stairs and headed for the bedroom. I caught her wrist once she got there and pulled her to face me. For the first time tonight she fell silent. She didn’t resist as I pulled her towards the bed, a sly smile on her lips, she still had no idea what was in store.

I lowered myself to sit on the edge of the bed and guided her to the side of me. I saw the confusion and panic flash across her face as I pulled on the wrist I had been gripping tightly. With her heels on she had no choice but to topple forward, landing across my lap. For a moment she thought I was going to help her up but as one of my arms stretched across her back and the other began lifting her skirt the realisation hit her.

She began to wriggle and protest until my hand came down for the first time on the delicate flesh of her bottom. She let out a squeal and her skin reddened instantly but I wasn’t done yet. I bought my hand down again as she continued to protest, and then again, and again, and again. With each new contact she began to quieten and as my arm became tired she lay there still, no longer resisting my new found control.

I lifted my arm from across her back and stroked her hair “you’re my good girl now”