lay down on the daybed. On your back,” I say, heading to my chest of implements. I ignore the fact that she is staring at me with uncertainty, wondering what I will do to her, and I survey my equipment slowly. I take my time. Finally, after a quick check over my shoulder to see that she’s in place—though craning her neck to keep an eye on me—I select a rubber slapper. It is about the width of half my hand and six inches long. Without using a lot of force, I can apply an ample amount of pain.
I look at Rachel lying there, waiting for me. Waiting to take the punishment I decide to give. I haven’t used this technique in years because I wouldn’t dare do it with a client. But the urge to push her forward into this crazy new adventure is strong and I want her to feel humility.
I kneel down beside the bed so that our faces are just inches apart. “I’m going to give you ten more spanks. Then you will go call your mother. Understand?”
She nods. She’s mournful and wants this to be over, I’m sure of it. I stand back up and grasp her ankles and pull them up into the air and then down toward her head, baring her butt to me. In this position, with her knees to her chest and her feet in the air, I can see everything. And, from the redness spreading through Rachel’s face, she is very aware of this.
“Please…” she whispers.
“Please what?”
“Please hurry.”
I don’t intend to, though. I give her one solid spank with the paddle, right on her lower buttock and she cries out loudly in pain. “Stay in position,” I warn. I check my watch and set the paddle down and just stand there, watching her.
She’s miserably embarrassed and, judging from the red mark on her behind, she’s in a significant amount of pain. But she stays still for me and I’m proud of her for that.
After a full minute, I lay on another swat. She cries out again but holds herself in place.
I do this for all ten spanks, making the punishment last just over ten minutes. I’m careful to avoid hitting in any sensitive areas and concentrate my spanks on her lower bottom. Her skin is bright red from the treatment but I can tell there will be no bruising.
When the last spank has fallen, I pull her up from the bed and gather her into my arms, holding her tight. She lets herself go, relaxing completely into my embrace, and she starts to cry again.
“Good girl,” I whisper, rubbing her back. I set her down on the bed and she winces a little. Retrieving her robe, I hand it to her. “Put this on, get your phone, and call your mother.”
I’m so convinced that she’ll obey me and my confidence is reflected in my tone. She wraps herself in the robe, her bare butt still on the daybed and looks up at me with her big eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“You’re welcome, Rachel.” I run my hand through her still damp hair and smile down at her.
While Rachel is chatting with her mother, which, from the sounds of it, is going just fine, I give her privacy and busy myself with planning the following weeks with my clients. I've had over a hundred clients, and twenty of them remain regulars. This amounts to a fairly full schedule, which is fine by me because I usually have an abundance of time. Now, though, with Rachel, I’m tempted to scale back so I can spend more time with her.
But, I know my brain is moving faster than reality. I’m ready for her to move in, to be a part of my life. Permanently. But it’s too soon. I barely know her. It just feels so right.
After nearly an hour of conversation, Rachel reappears, bright-faced and happy.
“Nice talk?” I ask casually.
“Yeah.” She blushes and looks momentarily awkward before she inhales sharply and rights her composure. “Thanks again.”
“Come here.” I pat the couch beside me.
She plops down next to me, gasping as her bottom connects with the surface. “Ouch!”
“You did very well in the session. I’m really proud of you,” I say sincerely. I can tell the
I look at Rachel lying there, waiting for me. Waiting to take the punishment I decide to give. I haven’t used this technique in years because I wouldn’t dare do it with a client. But the urge to push her forward into this crazy new adventure is strong and I want her to feel humility.
I kneel down beside the bed so that our faces are just inches apart. “I’m going to give you ten more spanks. Then you will go call your mother. Understand?”
She nods. She’s mournful and wants this to be over, I’m sure of it. I stand back up and grasp her ankles and pull them up into the air and then down toward her head, baring her butt to me. In this position, with her knees to her chest and her feet in the air, I can see everything. And, from the redness spreading through Rachel’s face, she is very aware of this.
“Please…” she whispers.
“Please what?”
“Please hurry.”
I don’t intend to, though. I give her one solid spank with the paddle, right on her lower buttock and she cries out loudly in pain. “Stay in position,” I warn. I check my watch and set the paddle down and just stand there, watching her.
She’s miserably embarrassed and, judging from the red mark on her behind, she’s in a significant amount of pain. But she stays still for me and I’m proud of her for that.
After a full minute, I lay on another swat. She cries out again but holds herself in place.
I do this for all ten spanks, making the punishment last just over ten minutes. I’m careful to avoid hitting in any sensitive areas and concentrate my spanks on her lower bottom. Her skin is bright red from the treatment but I can tell there will be no bruising.
When the last spank has fallen, I pull her up from the bed and gather her into my arms, holding her tight. She lets herself go, relaxing completely into my embrace, and she starts to cry again.
“Good girl,” I whisper, rubbing her back. I set her down on the bed and she winces a little. Retrieving her robe, I hand it to her. “Put this on, get your phone, and call your mother.”
I’m so convinced that she’ll obey me and my confidence is reflected in my tone. She wraps herself in the robe, her bare butt still on the daybed and looks up at me with her big eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“You’re welcome, Rachel.” I run my hand through her still damp hair and smile down at her.
While Rachel is chatting with her mother, which, from the sounds of it, is going just fine, I give her privacy and busy myself with planning the following weeks with my clients. I've had over a hundred clients, and twenty of them remain regulars. This amounts to a fairly full schedule, which is fine by me because I usually have an abundance of time. Now, though, with Rachel, I’m tempted to scale back so I can spend more time with her.
But, I know my brain is moving faster than reality. I’m ready for her to move in, to be a part of my life. Permanently. But it’s too soon. I barely know her. It just feels so right.
After nearly an hour of conversation, Rachel reappears, bright-faced and happy.
“Nice talk?” I ask casually.
“Yeah.” She blushes and looks momentarily awkward before she inhales sharply and rights her composure. “Thanks again.”
“Come here.” I pat the couch beside me.
She plops down next to me, gasping as her bottom connects with the surface. “Ouch!”
“You did very well in the session. I’m really proud of you,” I say sincerely. I can tell the
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