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the time was right. I had to force myself to leave it
in my apartment. Would she like my view?
Overlooking Central Park?
I greeted her with a kiss. Jennifer, I said.
Mr. Vine, she said nervously, only holding my
gaze for a second.
I chuckled. John.
She nodded but didn t correct herself.
We were waiting in the car for the valet before
she spoke. I m too nervous to eat.
What did she want? You want to go straight to
my apartment?
I d like to get it over with.
I felt a small rush of disappointment. Get it
over with? It won t be so bad.
You said it would be!
She was right. Yes, well, I said.
By the time we reached my apartment, she was
practically in tears. I don t know if I can do this.
I was tempted to offer her a drink. The
unknown is scary. Jennifer, I won t force you to do
anything. I m the spanker, but you re in control.
She wrung the hem of her dress into a little ball.
Come here, I ordered. She obeyed, lovely girl.
Pretty girl. I touched her waist to see if she would
object. Then I touched her leg. No pantyhose,
thank goodness. I slowly slid my finger up her leg,
slowly, slowly, slower.
She never asked me to stop.
I touched her panties and waited for her to
object. I slid my finger between the cloth and her
sex, sliding my finger in the moisture.
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I showed it to her. See this? She flushed and
looked away. Jennifer! I said sharply. She looked
back. See this?
She nodded.
I prefer Yes, Sir.
She thought about that for a moment. When
she finally said it, her voice was soft and smooth
and whispery.
This fear you say you feel, this anticipation, it s
the best part. You are aroused by what? Fear?
She licked her lips. I don t know.
Sir, I said. It was time, I told myself. Time to
break the anticipation and give her curiosity a taste
of reality. I put a hand around her waist to steady
her, and smacked the front of her leg as sharply as
I dared.
The emotions that passed over her face were
precious. First utter surprise. Then a war between
shame and pain. Pain won, but because it had only
been one smack, embarrassment quickly followed.
She looked down and away from me, the line of her
neck like a painting at the Metropolitan Museum of
Art.
Oh boy, she had me wrapped around her pinky.
Only she didn t know it, and she didn t use it to try
to get me to do anything for her. My heart swelled
painfully. Really painful, not sweet and cute and
lovey-dovey. My desire for her hurt like hell.
It s time to strip, Jennifer.
Her pretty lips formed a perfect circle. Oh &
she breathed. Okay. She rubbed a hand to the
back of her neck and used the other to massage her
throat. Self-comforting, again.
I raised my hand above the front of her leg, but
she quickly interjected, Yes, Sir. Soft and
beautiful.
I spared her the smack and peered up into her
eyes. I touched her chin and smiled. Good, I
said.
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She relaxed and smiled back.
Now strip.
She tensed up again. I reminded myself that a
certain amount of trepidation was necessary. It
was discipline, after all. A punishment. Her eyes
got watery, and I told myself that I would have to
make her cry for this to work.
I needed to give her pain and make her cry. I
ordered myself to give her pain and make her cry.
She pulled her shimmery black cocktail dress
over her head and dropped it on the floor. She
reached behind her back and, in a somewhat
awkward movement, unfastened her bra. It
dropped on the floor, too.
She rubbed her shoulders and stood there.
Panties, too.
Awkward again, but there was a beauty in her
awkwardness. An honesty. She stood before me
naked, trying to cover herself.
Hands behind your head.
She watched me. Nervous, with her chest
heaving. Another time I d take some time to kiss
and touch her pretty breasts.
Another time!
I took my time looking at her, partly because
she was truly gorgeous and partly because I knew it
made her feel exposed. She was the hidden
treasure type. Until you undressed her, you had no
idea she was the most beautiful woman you d ever
seen.
Why are you about to be spanked?
She swallowed a lot, and she could no longer
look at me. She shifted from foot to foot, and two
tears leaked out.
I waited.
And when I finally started to stand to give her a
little extra incentive, she blurted out, I was late!
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Good. I smiled again. She relaxed a little, not
quite as much as last time. By how many
minutes?
Twenty-six.
I took two large steps in approach and pulled
my hand behind my shoulder. With a forceful snap,
I struck the front of her unmarked thigh. She
squealed.
She was trying not to cry. Trying to steady her
voice, before it added, Sir.
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