Page 182 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

She whimpers again, then exhales. I feel her defeat and smile. Oh, she’ll be mine. Not now, but soon.

I slap her butt, harder this time, then harder yet. At six slaps, she cries out. At eight, she begs me to stop. At nine, her whimper is mixed with a sob.

I let my hand rest on her deliciously firm ass. I long so much to see it reddened, and to feel its heat from the spanking, but all in due time.

“Stand up and face me.”

She scrambles up and turns, raising her gaze to meet mine. Tears glitter in her eyelashes, and her lower lip pouts. I wipe her eyes with the pad of my thumb, then put it to her lush lip and stroke it. “Good girl.”

Her nostrils flare, and her expression is one of defiance.

I tsk. “I will let you go now. Run along. Think of me when you put your aching butt on the saddle. You will not touch yourself to the memory of me. You will ache, and you will wish for my hands on you again. Tomorrow, noon, I expect you here again for your second lesson.”

She widens her blue-as-the-early-morning-sky eyes again. “What?” A scoff. “Not happening.”

I hold her gaze and say nothing. She will, and we both know it.

Summer

He steps to the side, moves over to the door and unlocks it, then holds out his arm. “Go now.”

I hesitate, thinking he’ll grab me again. My butt burns, competing with my cheeks. Both body parts must be beet red.

“Go, or I’ll hand you ten more. Lesson number one was not to invade the home of a stranger. Lesson number two begins now.”

“What is that?” I half-whisper.

“Obey me.”

I squeak and dart toward the door, pull it open, then run.

I don’t stop running until I reach my bike. I hop on and try to force the scorching embarrassment out of my mind, but every push on the pedals makes my butt sting, and the rubbing of my nethers against the saddle makes me ache, arousal blooming like a flower in early spring, opening me. I’m not going back. I’m not going back. I’m not going back. Oh my god. I’m going to be there at noon tomorrow for my next lesson.

Legs like jelly, I hop off the bike at the first crossroad, lead it up a little along the way until I’m out of sight from anyone who might pass by, then sink down on a stone. I shoot up from the stinging in my butt and sit on the soft moss instead. It’s cool and damp and soothes my behind’s heated skin. I scramble to my knees, pull up the skirt and sit my now mere panty-clad bottom back on the moss.

I sigh with relief. After all, I came away relatively unscathed from an encounter that could have gone much worse. Much, much worse. I don’t even need to verbalize the things a man can do to a woman that didn’t happen. That would have been devastating. I don’t even know how anyone comes back from that.

But this… the spanking, the stern voice, the manhandling of me as if I’m nothing but a featherlight doll. I burn hotter than the sun from the memory.

And his face. My god, I finally got to see him, and not only a glimpse, but up close. He’s perfect. He could be a model, the bad-boy vibe model. A straight nose—strong somehow, a squared jaw dusted with a dark stubble, dark heavy eyebrows, and eyes the color of the deepest forest green, shifting in gray and black, with specks of blue. I don’t know how to describe them adequately, and I already know I need to see them again.

That night I can’t look Mom in the eyes. I grab the dinner plate, ramen noodles with over-cooked bouquets of broccoli, sprinkled with salt and pepper, and run to my room, hiding away in my shame. I try to tell myself I did nothing wrong, but I try vocalizing that sentiment to Mom in my mind and end up with nothing but ‘breaking and entering’. Yeah, I’ll keep this to myself for now.

First chew, Mom knocks.

“Honey?”

“Yesh, Mom,” I shout and swallow the food as I squirm, the memory of his slaps still sizzling in me.

“Can I come in?”

“No!”

She’s silent then asks, “Something wrong? Do you need to talk? You know you can talk to me about everything.”

Oh no, I really can’t. Not after today. She’s guaranteed not to understand. Unless… and ugh, not gonna think about that!

“It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”

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