Nobody answered the doorbell and the front door was locked. Alex had already let him know that he might be running late for their bi-weekly meeting, as he still had a few things that needed to be taken care of in the University lab. Johnathan walked around the back, and lifted one of the flat stones that lay at the foot of the large chestnut tree that that towered over the back yard, and picked up the key under it. It wasn't the first time Alex was running a bit late, but he knew how to get in.

Johnathan had competed his PhD under Alex, and they had always gotten along very well. He was offered a research position at another university shortly after that, and although he wouldn't have minded working with Alex some time longer, it had been an offer he couldn't resist. Since then, their meetings had become more informal. They kept a regular schedule to discuss the latest developments in their fields, usually over a drink or a meal, once every two weeks. Challenging each other’s ideas had always been a fun pastime for the both of them. Now, five years later, Jonathan was thirty five, and Alex nearing sixty, but they still kept up with each other’s research, and still loved the mental sparring that came naturally with their meetings.

He opened the door from the backyard, and stepped in to the living room. In the living room, next to the coffee table which was piled up with books and scientific magazines, stood a girl. She was wearing a blouse, a short pleated skirt, and long striped socks up to her knees. A pair of bulky white sneakers detonated comically under it. She just stood there watching her feet, her head bowed down, the pigtails in her flax-blond hair framing her face. Her body looked like she was in her early twenties, but her entire demeanor was that of a girl.

Johnathan had seen pictures of Alex's niece, Evelyn, who at twenty one years of age had just finished her second MSc. Alex loved to brag about her: Evelyn Dora Steiner, the child prodigy. This had to be her.

"You are Alex's niece, Evelyn, aren't you?" Johnathan asked.

She didn't look up from her toes, and just said, "People call me Dora. You're Jonathan, you are visiting today."

"I rang the doorbell, but nobody answered. I thought nobody was home. Didn't you hear me ring?" Johnathan asked.

"Yes." was her only reply.

"But you didn't answer?"

"I'm not allowed." Her eyes were still fixed on her toes.

"Not allowed?" Johnathan asked. This was Evelyn, he was sure of it, but he couldn't make head nor tail of the way she was behaving.

She raised her arm ever so slightly, pointing at the floor. There was a cup lying on the floor, with orange juice spilling out of it. "I spilled my drink, I must not move until I'm corrected for it." She finally lifted her gaze a little. "Will you administer punishment?"

"P-Punishment?" Johnathan couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was quite sure he hadn't taken the first left to crazy town, but here he was, in Alex's house, standing across from Alex's brilliant niece, who was asking him to administer punishment.

"One spilled cup, on the floor but not on the rug. That's eight with the belt, twelve with the cane, eighteen with the hand, bare and standing, or twenty-one with the hand, over the knee with panties on. Which one do you think will best teach me my lesson, Johnathan, Sir?"

"This is insane. I can't punish you!"

"Please. I can't move before I'm corrected."

"Stop it, this is ridiculous, you don't have to be corrected."

"But I must be punished. Please let me assume the position."

"The position, what the devil are you talking about?"

"Sit down, Johnathan, Sir, I'll show you."

Utterly perplexed, Johnathan dropped back onto the sofa, doing what Dora was telling him to. Dora was standing right in front of him, and he was looking right at her breasts, which were quite the specimens indeed. Full, round, firm looking, with creamy white skin, but he shouldn't think of that, he corrected himself, this was Alex's niece. Before he could shake off the thought of those breasts, Dora had dropped her skirt to her knees, and bent over, placing herself over his knee. He could feel her breasts dangling and her bottom, clad in white cotton panties, was perked up.

"This is the position for twenty-one over the knee, Johnathan, Sir. Do you know how to administer it? First, just raise your hand. Yes, just like that. And now bring it down. I must count them out."

The white flesh of her perked up bottom looked amazingly attractive. Confused with the situation he found himself in, he gave in to the temptation to touch it.

"One," Dora said out loud. "But that wasn't right. It must be a spanking."

Johnathan raised his hand, and let it down on her other cheek with a little slap.

"Two, but that barely counted either. It must be harder."

"Three," she counted out. "It must be punishment, Sir. You must make it hurt."

"Four, but it only hurt a little. I must be corrected. I must by punished. Make me hurt harder."

"Five." For the first time, his hand left something of a pale red mark.

"Six. Punish me Jonathan, Sir." A mark on her other butt cheek.

"Seven." Was that...? It was as unmistakable as it was unbelievable to him — that dark spot in her panties — it was her moisture flowing; she was getting aroused. Johnathan hesitated, his hand mid-air, but then, as if guided by something stronger, something feral inside him, he swung it down on her left buttock, for the first time not really holding back, his hand leaving behind its form in a rose colored flare on Dora’s behind.

A soft whimper escaped Dora’s lips.

"Eight."

The feral beast inside him was taking over. He was allowing it to take over. "Nine." and a small sob

"Ten. I must be corrected, Sir."

"Eleven." The air filled with the smells of her wetness, and as she was getting wetter, he could feel himself getting harder. With every beat of his heart, a glimmer of reason escaped him, and a burst of arousal swelled up.

"T-twelve," she breathed softly. The flares were overlapping now, forming a single patch of red. Again a swing.

"Please, Sir, I'll behave, I won't do it again, Sir"

"I want to hear you count, not whimper."

Did he really just say that? Why was this turning him on so much? He was used to finding answers to questions, but these were not questions that were meant to be answered. This was a time for punishment. Dora had to be punished for the dirty whore she was, making him let himself go like this. For turning him on. For everything she was, and everything she awoke in him. Even for the spilled cup of orange juice. At least she had now counted the thirteen.

The beast was truly awoken. His arm swung high, and landed with a hard slap, his full force behind it. He could hear her sob. He didn't care. As long as she counted.

"F-Fourteen." He felt himself wishing he had chosen the belt.

"Fifteen." More sobbing. He was done with the sobbing now. He grabbed both her pigtails in one hand, like an experienced rider takes the reigns of a horse, and pulled her head back.

He didn't wait for her to count anymore, she would just have to keep up. He bore down on her with his flat hand in full force. Sixteen. Seventeen, Eighteen. Her mascara was getting muddled with the tears that were dripping down her cheeks, but she had stopped her whining.

Nineteen, Twenty. He yanked her head back all the way so she was looking up to him with her teary eyes, her throat pulled tight so that she could barely breathe, and his last strike hit her bottom full force.

It was a squeal, more than anything else, followed by two quick sobs, which came as a response. And then, after a short pause, came the last count. Twenty-one. Her voice was trembling, and very, very soft.

"Thank you..."

She took a moment to compose herself, took a jagged, shallow breath, and continued, "...for disciplining me, Johnathan, Sir. I will now go clean myself up."

Her skirt still on her knees, she picked up the cup, and then shuffled her way to the stairs, and one step after the other, started ascending it. Each careful step she took up the stairs seemed to make her wince, but she kept completely quiet. Her now crimson bottom almost seemed to radiate, but under it, her thighs glimmered with her own wetness.

When she came down the stairs again, a few minutes later, she had changed. She was wearing jeans now, and her pigtails had given way for a simple ponytail. But that wasn't the most striking difference. There was something in her posture, the way she walked. The look on her face was different. The lips that earlier pouted and trembled now formed a confident smile. She seemed no longer the girl he had just spanked (oh god, had he really done that?) not even a girl at all, but a young woman.

"I really don't know what came over me, Dora, but...”

"It's Evelyn, but I decided I wanted to pay you a visit as Dora. Uncle Alex told me a lot about you, and I knew he would be out for a bit. I figured it would be... interesting."

"Dora's quite the filthy deprived little girl you know," Evelyn continued. "You've seen how she stained herself. The whole idea of punishment in itself is quite the turn-on for her. The spanking is just the icing on the cake. It took you a little time to get right, but after the first half-dozen..." a shiver ran down her body, "...You had it down pretty well."

She threw him a sneaky smile before she continued. "You know, I can also have her beg for all sorts of things if you like that. It could be interesting. You wouldn't believe the filth she is able to beg for. I sometimes have her beg for..."

The sound of a car stopping on the driveway caught her short, and stopped her mid-sentence.

"That's my queue, exit stage right," she said, while giving a sly wink.

"But the cup?"

"Planted."

"And Alex?"

"Doesn't know about Dora."

The lock on the door turned, and before the door was even open, Alex's voice had already entered the living room.

"I swear to god, Johnathan, the grad students are getting dumber by the year. Would you believe they managed to..."

"Hi, Uncle Alex!" Evelyn interrupted him.

"Oh, Evelyn, I completely forgot you would be here. You met Johnathan now have you? I trust he treated you with every bit of respect the great brilliance of my niece deserves?"

"Johnathan has been very pleasant company," Evelyn said, giving her uncle a hug. "And I got what I came for," she continued, taking the top book from the pile on the coffee table, "but I really should be going now."

She put the book, Classification of the sub-genera of Thalis Theadris in her bag, swung it on her back, shook Jonathan's hand, and walked out the door.

"She's quite something you know, that Evelyn," Alex said to Jonathan.

Johnathan looked in his hand, where Evelyn had left a small piece of paper: 'Call me, and I'll show you more of what Dora is capable of,' followed by a mobile phone number.

"Quite something indeed, Alex. Quite something indeed."

"Now have you, by any chance, read Rosenfeld's paper on emergent forces in non-linear fields? It's truly fascinating really."