I shouldn’t have said that to him.
Even if I had said it, I shouldn’t have used that tone.
If I’d said it but hadn’t used that tone, he would have given me a Look. And the Look is terrifying, but it’s better than…
If I’d had that tone but held my tongue, I wouldn’t have gotten…
Oh God, he just gave me…
I just got a spanking!
I’m a grown-up and I just got a spanking! I’m standing with my undies around my ankles and I just got a god-damn fucking spanking! Why? Why did I do any of this!
This is all in my head, right? He can’t hear me.
Right?
Right.
So…
When he asks, that’s what I’m going to tell him. I shouldn’t have said that, and I shouldn’t have said that in that tone. Good. Done. That hardly took fifteen minutes in ‘time-out’ to think about what I did. What a waste of time.
I should tell him that. What’s the worst that could happen?
Oh, right. He might spank me.
Again.
I used to joke about this. I think I said it to my ex-boyfriend once, after I’d come home late from the club, “What are you going to do about it, spank me?”
Maybe he should have. I tell you, I’d never have been late again.
Or would I?
Ignore that thought. I didn’t know where it came from.
My butt feels like it’s swollen. Like I sat on a beehive, or a hot stove. I’ve never done either of those things, but until a few moments ago I hadn’t been spanked before, either, so the comparison seems as good as any.
It itches. It’s not supposed to itch, is it?
He told me not to rub my bottom. Does it count if I scratch?
Probably best if I don’t try. But it really itches.
Who calls it a “bottom” anymore? I don’t have a bottom. Little kids have bottoms. I have a butt. A booty. An ass.
At least I did before he spanked it off.
Ohhh…
What?
No, sir. I didn’t say anything.
Yes, I’m sure.
A noise? What noise?
A giggle? No sir, I don’t believe this is a laughing matter. Not at all.
Do I want seconds?
…
No! No, I don’t want seconds!
Yes, I’ll be still and quiet. Like a church mouse? I don’t know what that means, but absolutely. Yes.
Twenty minutes now. Yes, sir.
Oh my God. I almost got spanked again.
And my butt still itches.
He’s staring at it, isn’t he? As if he didn’t get a good enough view while I was—
Shit. The way I was kicking and carrying on, he must have had a good view of everything.
Well, fuck him. After this, he’s seen the end of me.
He has seen the end of me, hasn’t he? And in intimate detail, too.
Stop it!
He’s still talking. I knew the rules, he says, he was very clear on what would happened if they weren’t followed. I have nobody to blame but myself for the position I’m in.
Really? Because I sure didn’t pick this spot for the view.
He’s still talking. Should I nod like I’m listening?
Do I remember my word? What word?
Oh right. “Rose-gold”. He said I should use it if things got to intense, or if I wanted it all to stop. A bit late for that, my dude. And my ass is pretty rose-gold as things are anyway.
Heh.
No, I didn’t make a sound. I swear.
I promise I’m taking this seriously.
I promise that I’m taking it seriously that I’m pressed into the corner of the room, naked and with my beat-up ass on display.
Bottom, whatever.
And it still itches. Maybe I can just clench the itch out…
No, no, no. That made it worse. It just burns. Stupid.
He just laughed. Yeah, I bet I look really funny, don’t I?
He’s lucky that he’s cute. I mean, it takes a special somebody to get me out of my pants by the second date. Though this isn’t how I expected that part to go.
Ow…
Dominic, Dominant.
That was all I had going in. A mystery. I love mysteries. And kinky stuff! “You’d better behave yourself…” and all that. It gives me a tingle in the you-know-where. I couldn’t swipe right fast enough.
He said we’d start off slow. He said he didn’t want to spook me. He said that if it got weird or scary that I should say “rose-gold” and we’d stop immediately. All we did was have lunch. No funny stuff. He did insist on ordering for me, which was weird, but not weird-weird. More like old-fashioned. I could get behind that. And he wanted me to call him ‘sir’.
He was so comforting, so fucking gentlemanly, that when that first night ended I jumped at the chance to see him again.
It’s his fault. I mean, I was hopped up on dopamine. I wasn’t in my right mind. The charming bastard lulled me into a false sense of security.
Right.
It was the name that did it. Anyone would have been tempted. It writes itself. Dominic, Dominant.
“Dom-Dom.”
And it was funny! A little bit. The first time.
Maybe even the second.
The third was pushing it. I knew it when I saw the Look. The one that said, in no uncertain terms, that I was playing with fire.
“You’d better behave yourself…” I thought to myself, palms sweating.
And I forgot that’s just the first part. The next is “…or there will be consequences.”
I think the itch is starting to go away.
Nope. I was just ignoring it. Fuck.
So… consequences.
I had been paying attention when he’d brought up punishments, but it was this totally abstract concept for me. It’s ridiculous, right? I mean, a spanking. The word itself sounds so silly. The way he said it, I couldn’t even keep a straight face.
He’d said it so matter-of-factly, too.
“Terry,” he said, “I don’t feel that you’re taking me seriously. If you keep using that name, then you’re going to get a spanking right on your bare bottom.”
I couldn’t help it. I giggled. Strike one. Or two, I guess?
He gave me the Look again. My heart fluttered.
And then I said…
How could I have been so stupid?
…I said, “Hey, don’t threaten me with a good time!”
Why?
Why?!
Why did I say that?
I knew it was a mistake, but I couldn’t very well know why, could I? All I could tell at the time was that he stopped giving me the Look. That was a good thing, right?
I thought that he was just trying to scare me.
I thought I was calling his bluff.
I thought I was being brave.
…
It’s a lot easier to be brave when you still have your pants on. I don’t – just as an example – feel very brave right now. Which is why I’ve been good and I haven’t said a word or moved from this spot since he told me to stand here.
Even though I can feel the steam pouring off my bottom.
My bottom? He’s got me doing it, now.
I’m exaggerating about the steam, but not by much. I hope he appreciates how much it’s costing me to keep position.
Maybe if I shift a bit to the right? He won’t even notice…
Better not.
I know he’s still there. I can hear him breathing.
I’m sure he likes what he sees. Asshole.
He had me undress myself. Maybe he thought I might still chicken out, and that was his way of reminding me that I chose this or something.
I should have chickened out. But the date had gone so well that I figured I’d be taking my clothes off by the end of the night anyhow. I even gave him a show while I was doing it. Moved my hips a little.
It was so stupid. He had to notice how badly my hands were shaking.
Maybe he did.
Maybe that was why he did what he did.
I wasn’t sure what to do next. I wasn’t even sure what I was supposed to do with my clothes, I had them bunched up in my hand, what does anybody do in this circumstance? Am I supposed to know? Is he going to tell me?
And he locked eyes with me, which astounds me because he’s sitting in a chair with my naked crotch right there at face level. It’s not the Look, but my stomach’s in knots and I know now that I’m going to get it, really get it—
And then I don’t. He looks at me, through me, and says:
“Do you know why you’re getting this spanking?”
I want to sink into the floor. I’m not afraid of what he’s going to do to me, not yet, but embarrassed? Absolutely. I mumble something about calling him names and how I’m totally sorry. Playing along. Trying to drown out those second thoughts that have crawled down from my hindbrain and into my guts.
“That’s not right. Look at me.” And he repeats his question. This time I’ve got nothing for him, no smart comment or anything. I didn’t sign up for a lecture. I just want this part to be over.
“You’re getting this because you couldn’t leave well enough alone. You wanted to know if I meant what I said, and you’re about to find out. Do you think you’re ready?”
Ten minutes ago – no more than fifteen now, tops – I said yes.
Okay, I was too tongue-tied to say yes, I just nodded. At least I didn’t tell him to do his worst.
Right?
He took me by the hand. Not hard. Just firm.
And then…
He tugged, and I fell. It didn’t go as smoothly as he’d probably hoped. I wasn’t ready for it and my feet didn’t want to move, so I kind of kind of belly-flopped onto him. Not a great start.
And then…
He pulled me back, enough that my toes could barely touch the floor. I’d have been flying if my stomach hadn’t been pressed up against his knees. I felt dizzy. The embarrassment was killing me.
And then…
He put his hand on my ass. It was… softer than I thought it would be. At first.
“Rose-gold,” he whispered. As if I needed the reminder.
And then…
SMACK!
Ow! Yes, sir! You still have my attention!
It’s not like you’re, I don’t know, literally having me watch paint dry for twenty minutes. I don’t know what that’s supposed to prove.
I didn’t even hear him move. One second he’s in his chair, on the other side of the room, and then he’s….
…He’s close, so close, his breath on my neck is making me hotter than my ass. Well, maybe almost as hot.
“Five more minutes,” he whispers, “if you’re good.”
And I really want to be good. Don’t I?
Because when I tried being bad – just played at it, really – look where it got me.
I remember it again, and I feel my fists clench.
It wasn’t bad at first. His palm skipping across my bottom, giving off little “pop” noises and making my butt jiggle. The sound kind of startled me, but I didn’t feel much of anything. I might have even been grinding up against his leg a little.
I didn’t know what I was supposed to have been so worried about.
It wasn’t what I expected punishment to feel like.
At first.
Now? I’m never going to forget this feeling. Never.
I’m never going to live this down.
Because eventually those love pats started to get harder, to get stingier.
And I said…
I said a lot, really.
Most of it was ‘ow’.
As in, ow ow ow ow ouch eek ow ow FUCK ow ow ow yelp ooh ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ouchie ow ow ow ow ow ooh ouch ow ow ow ow ow SHIT ow ow ow ow ow FUCK ow ow ow ow ooh ow ooh ooh oh ouch ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow DAMMIT ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow FUCK ow ow ow ow ow ow ow.
And so on.
But I never said “rose-gold”.
Why?
I believed him when he told me that if I used that word, that the spanking would stop. That I could get off his knee, hitch up my pants and go back to the life I had before, one where I could wear those pants comfortably.
But I didn’t.
I don’t—
I don’t like spanking, do I?
I sure wasn’t thinking that back when he was setting my ass on fire.
But now…
Oh my God. The neighbours. He has neighbours. Do you think they heard me?
Dream on, Terry. They could probably hear me from space, yelling like I was getting murdered.
Would they call the cops?
Or would it be even worse if they didn’t?
I can only imagine, “Dom’s spanking another one, dear, turn up the volume on the TV.”
I can never show my face here again, can I?
Not that it’s my face that I’m showing now.
…
You know… now that the shock is over…
…This isn’t terrible.
I mean, my skin is really tender and I’m afraid it’ll peel off if I scratch at it. It’s still hot and sore and I’m sure that I’ll have bruises tomorrow.
But… it’s not the worst thing.
It was really kind of exciting.
I mean, now that I know what to expect, maybe I could do that again.
Maybe.
In, like a month or two.
Until then, I’m going to be on my best behaviour. Dominic’s going to be so fucking impressed with me that he’s going to beg to put me over his knee again.
Now that’s an image.
The sting’s starting to go away. Not too soon, either.
This whole time-out thing isn’t so bad, either. Sure, it’s a little humiliating, but this has been really relaxing. It’s given me some time to think.
Maybe I’m not done with Dominic, Dominant just yet.
Dom-Dom. Ha.
Ha ha ha ha.
Was that out loud?
Shit. That was out loud. He’s not still behind me, is he?
He’s still behind me.
And he’s glowering. I don’t have to see him to know that I’m getting the Look again. I can feel it in my stomach.
I can feel his hand on my wrist.
“You couldn’t make it just one more minute, could you? Some people just have to learn the hard way, I guess.”
One minute? That’s not fair!
He pulls.
Oh no, not again—
