I'd been late. The jury's still out on whether it was on purpose or not. 

"This is for you, Maggie," she said, sliding a bangle onto my wrist, "but I'm not sure late; naughty girls deserve pretty presents."

A truly beautiful piece of two-coloured vintage gold, set with diamonds and rubies, adorned, yes, adorned, my slim wrist.

I looked up from it with slightly sparkling eyes. 

"You should keep it on all the time unless cleaning it. And, Maggie, why are you crying?"

A tear had leaked.

I began to shake. Jack held on to me, making sure I didn't end up on the floor.

"All the nice things I've ever had," I replied, "I've got for myself. Presents..."

She sat me on the sofa with a strong arm around my shoulders. She held me, a 53-year-old successful businesswoman, while I cried.

When I could, I continued.

"Presents have been and are a rarity," I told her. "And this. This is something special. Something you'd give a mistress. A lover. A wife. I'm none of these things, yet here it is." 

I began to feel more confident as the words spilt.

"Please tell me what and who I am. I'm 53. Why are you here? I'm certainly not going to be a mummy substitute if that's what you're thinking. You spanked me. Punished me. Was I an ex-girlfriend stand-in? Are you imagining I was her? I'm not a stand-in."

I slipped the bangle off and held it out to her, and she took my wrist gently but firmly, holding on to it and slipping it back on.

"Maggie! Maggie!"

I stopped, and the rant and tears stopped, too.

"What?"

She waited.

"Sorry, Miss. Pardon Miss."

"Right! I've got one mum and that's enough. I've got no girlfriend, as we've already discussed, so you're not a mistress. Lover? Wife? This is our second date unless you call that drunken debacle a month ago a date. I fucked you. You enjoyed it more than a little. So technically, we could be called lovers. I fucking loved it anyway. Wife? I know you said at some point that you weren't gay. But my previous point can be repeated here.

"That leaves a stand-in. Abso-fuckin-lutely not. You're gorgeous, as the song says. Anyone, boy or girl, would be lottery-winning lucky to have you as a friend, never mind a lover or wife. Don't you see? I fancy the fuck out of you. Presents are a way of showing that."

"But Miss. I've got nothing for you."

"Fuck off! You gave me more than enough the last time we were together. You gave me yourself."

"Oh!" was all I could come up with. 

"Go freshen up. I want to investigate everything together," she said, releasing me after a few more moments. "And I'm hungry. I missed breakfast again."

I'm a shower freak, bathing rarely. Personal hygiene is almost an obsession. Morning and evening. Every day.

Wednesday morning, early, I awoke in Jack's arms. Too hot. Too thirsty. I'm dying for a pee. I extricated myself from the human tangle, licked my lips, and tasted...

...my future.

The last time was a trailer. And not one of those that shows all the best bits, so the film is a disappointment.

We had brunch, and then she took me shopping. She bought clothes for herself—beautiful garments—for an upcoming event she'd been invited to, making sure I liked them too, as though my input was important. 

Lingerie was next, and everything she bought for herself she also bought in my size too.

"My treat. You'll look so lovely in and out of these sets," she whispered, stroking down my back and cupping my bottom.

We drove then, a short way, to a shop she was familiar with.

"Hi, Jacqueline. I haven't seen you in a while. How've you been?"

"Maggie, this is Gail. She owns Simple Secrets. Gail, Maggie. We've just come for a mooch if that's okay. We're staying in one of the lodges at the pub in Arrington. I couldn't miss such an opportunity to visit when I'm so close.

"Of course. Angela is somewhere around the place. I made the try before you buy feature on all the things you like permanent, and you know how she likes to get involved. She'll be giving someone what fettle or someone is fettling her."

We wandered but followed the sounds of, well, there was a young woman, barely a teenager in appearance, bending provocatively over a beautifully constructed, leather-topped, four-legged, vaulting horse. Her jeans, stretched tightly across her broad hips and bottom, were being paddled repeatedly, and while we watched, I counted twelve swats before the paddle was changed for another, longer, thicker, and broader one. After twelve with this, a long, thin cane made the same journey the same number of times.

"I'll take all three," the tiny Indian woman said quite matter-of-factly, panting a little and pulling up her already perfectly fitting yoga pants. She held out her hand, helping Angela, who rubbed her well-whacked bottom. "And thank you for your help. You're right. Slightly heavier makes a big difference, or so it seems. May I see the result?"

"You're welcome, Ms. Razila," Angela replied, lowering her jeans to show off her reddened bottom.

"Perfect. Thank you again," she said again, feeling the temperature she'd just raised with the back of her hand.

Angela flinched at the touch.

"This is for you," Ms. Razila said, sliding several folded notes into the back pocket of the jeans while still crumpling around Angela's thighs.

"Thank you, but it's not necessary. I get well enough paid anyway. Here. Take it back."

"No, Angela. Keep it as a tip. I won't tell Gail."

"OK. Thank you," she said, pulling up her jeans, perhaps a little tighter than necessary. "Oh! Hi Jack," she said, seeing us watching. "Gail already knows about the tips. On a good week, I can score a few hundred quid. It's brill. The new girlfriend isn't too keen 'cause, like, if I've been demonstrating with someone like her, I'm so turned on when I get to meet up with Bethany, there's very little preamble. Spanking and sex are all I'm interested in."

We all laughed at Angela's outburst.

"TMI?"

"No. No. No. It's great to share. This is Maggie."

"Does she like to be spanked?" Angela asked, not directing the question to me, and buckling her belt.

"She certainly more than liked the end result, didn't you?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Good girl," she said, patting my bottom. "I don't think she's been somewhere like this before, have you?"

"No Miss."

"Well. Feel free to try any of the implements. I can vouch for most of them, having been on the receiving end of them. There are a few new bits that I'm sure you'll discover. The room at the end is free if you need a little more privacy. Enjoy. I'll bring you drinks if you'd like."

Jack ordered us coffee, and the very helpful Angela walked away, rubbing her bottom.

"Wow!"

"Yes, Maggie. I've been in a few times, and she's regularly being used for demo purposes. She's a real Spanko! I think that's why she came for the job here. Gail had been recruiting for a long time."

I stood quietly with Jack, and she handed me copies of the toys Ms. Razila had just bought when Angela returned with fresh coffee.

"You've seen what they can do," she said, handing over the wonderful-smelling beverages and, walking away again, rubbed her bottom gingerly. "By all means, try them. You'll see, and you'll feel, exactly what I mean," she said, speaking directly to me for the first time."

"Ok. Thanks. We'll see," Jack replied.

She then whispered close to my ear, "But I think I want you unspanked for later. Your bottom is mine," she said, patting each cheek three or four times. "And these," she said, cupping my breasts, each one in turn, and thumbing my nipples to a taut erection.

"And this," she continued, stroking and stoking my arousal through the thin skirt and knickers.

My breathing changed.

Stopping immediately, with a huge grin on her face, she added a couple more items to those already in my hands, pretending to use the hanging strap on an extra-large bonded rubber spanking sole to hang it on my extended nipple.

We laughed.

"Not that I want to hurt you," she lied, "but just a few with this beauty will hurt like hell. Not for now, I'm sure, but later. Maybe even sooner."

She kissed me deeply, then. Her tongue danced me even further alive, carving a deep link between both my sets of lips. I was more alive in that moment than I'd ever been.

"Take me back and spank me again. Beat me with it," I said, indicating the heavy rubber. "Thrash me and make me cum. Show me how to make you cum. Feed me with your sex. I'm yours."

"I know. Let me pay, and we'll get out of here."

She took my hand and led me to the counter.

"Be careful with this one," Gail said, flexing the sole menacingly. "Angie tried it out on me when it first came in, just over my jeans, and Holy Moly. It stung like hell for the rest of the day. That's lovely; thanks, Jack," Gail said, taking payment. "I've put you an invite for an all-women spanko-con in the bag. Let me know quickly if you're interested. It's selling out. Just like-minded women, together for a few hours. If it works, there'll be more."

"I've got quite a pressing engagement, thanks, Gail. See you again, Angela." She waved our goodbyes.

"Did you mean what you've just said?"

"Yes. I'm yours." 

She held me against her car tailgate and kissed me again, her fingers sliding up my short skirt and behind the gusset of my knickers.

"You can cum. But if you do so now, without permission, your thrashing will be more than you can imagine."

She continued finger-fucking me, and it was only because another car pulled into the secluded carpark that she stopped, and I didn't cum.

"Lucky you," she said, her slippery fingers finding their way into my mouth. "Suck," is all she said.

I sucked. 

"You'll be tasting mine soon enough. This," she said, "can be an aperitif, if you will. A mear taster. For what? The next couple of days? Or maybe a little longer."

She opened the car door for me, whisking me back to the lodge, and began as soon as we were inside, with the curtains closed and one of her relaxing playlists quietly filling the silence. 

"You know why you're here, Mag?"

"Please, Miss, tell me."

"First of all, remember Origami. Now. I want you to shower and slip into the gold two-piece. It's all about... well. Let's find out."

I was back in the main living area, but Jack was already there. The new implements were laid out on one of the plush armchairs, probably in order, and Jack was dressed in her matching underwear. 

"You won't be wearing it for too long, but you look fantastic, and you smell divine. Give me a twirl."

I spun around for her.

"Slower. I want, no need, to take you all in just in case I don't see you again for a while."

These were the last words spoken for a little while. Lots and lots of noises escaped my lips—many anguished cries. Many squeaks, squawks, and squeals of pure pain and indescribable pleasure, although I do my best. And rhythmic, sometimes metronomic spanking. With...well. You'll see.

My damp hair from the shower hung loosely, and as I spun my back to her, Jack once again took a tight fistful, and I winced audibly. Directing me by it until I was bent at right angles over the back of the centrally situated setee, she began by smacking me, cheek to cheek, over the now tight gold shorts.

The sting, once it registered, was everything I wanted it to be. Hard. Insistant. Driving me forward with each flattening impact. My life had been missing something that I hadn't even known existed. My focus now is on the increasing heat and stinging on my tightly encased bottom cheeks.

The atmosphere was important. Jack filled it with what was important to her. I became the centre of her little cosmos: my discomfort, her reason for being, and all of the sights and sounds she was making. And the heady, erotic smells, soon coming from both of us in our heightened stages of arousal, permeated this atmosphere in a way I'd never imagined. The smells of sex were something to be got rid of after hot, sweaty, penetrative intercourse. This was different.

The smacking, which stings incredibly, was triggering such arousal that my shorts were soon soaked with my juices.

"We'll have these down and off soon," she said, pushing the absorbent gusset as deep inside me as the short would allow, using her free hand to keep up the steady blows. "You're loving this, aren't you?"

I failed to answer quickly enough.

The spanking hand reached out for the closest wooden paddle hairbrush; the damp 'frigging' hand closed once again around a handful of my hair, pulling my head back, again, most uncomfortably. The increased bottom stinging, coupled with the scalp pain, had me yelping and crying out.

"Aren't you?"

"Yes, Miss! Yes, Miss!"

The punishing paddle never stopped, but my hair was released, and that hand was snaking up inside my camisole. Nipples, again, were her target, but the insistent rhythmic beating made me momentarily forget the other ways she'd used to hurt me.

I very quickly remembered as her thumb and forefinger gripped tighter and tighter.

There was no yelling.

There was an elongated shriek, and had I not been supported by the settee, I may have collapsed.

She repeated the move with my other nipple.

The result is identical.

And the hair brushing never faltered, smacking up one cheek from crease to crown, then down its partner, crown to crease. Five smacks to each cheek, repeated more times than I can remember. 

Then suddenly, it stopped. 

The only sound, along with the pastoral music, was our laboured breathing. 

"Stay there, and think about why you're here and what you want."

Jack disappeared, returning with tall, ice-filled juice drinks.

"Stand up and refresh yourself."

We drank the cold drinks together, and the hand that had so recently been yanking my hair and twisting my nipples gently took hold of mine.

"I'm loving this, too," she breathed, and she pulled me towards her, kissing me deeply. The mouth-to-cunt connection reignited immediately. I returned the kiss, hoping it was doing the same for Jack.

Her fingers, now icy cold, slipped inside the front of my shorts; my hot, sticky slit was her target this time.

"Come for me," she said, sliding easily into the darkness she found there. 

It took moments. Seconds at most, as her experienced and dextrous fingers found my hard, sensitive pearl and used it magically. 

She lowered my punished and pleasured body to the thickly carpeted floor, where she held me tightly.

"You," I said after a long while, and I'd caught my breath.

"Pardon?" Jack asked.

"You asked what I wanted. It's you. I want you."

I felt her rather than saw her smile.

"Me too."

"With any exceptions," she continued after a few minutes, gently stroking my roasted bottom and teasing my tender nipples back to full erect attention. 

It was my turn to think.

"Is there more pain?" I asked.

"Yes," Jack replied seductively. 

"Much more?"

Putting her mouth on my breast, she took my nipple between her teeth. Biting down hard and pulling away together, she looked up into my wide eyes. 

"Yes," she said without releasing, biting down harder. Her fingers pushed inside me once again, roughly, intending to hurt, not help.

It worked, and I shrieked, pulling away and curling, foetally. Instead of comforting me, she flattened me to the floor on my tummy, pinning me and reaching for the heavier paddle, which she then used to beat my bare bottom. It felt harder, but I knew that it was far from as hard as possible. 

Alternate cheeks, one stroke, probably every half second, and I was crying out in tormented anguish.

She jumped up after several dozen, my bottom on fire, and dragged me to the sofa, again using a fistful of my hair.

"Take my clothes off. I need to be naked for your next lesson."

Once naked, Jack sat, her bottom perched on the edge of the cushion, her knees spread wide, and she smushed my face into her gaping, sticky slit.

"Lick!"

Tentatively, I licked.

"Do it fucking right. Lick me. Work your tongue inside me."

My fisted hair was used as a tightly held handle to scrub my face into her until she ground orgasm after orgasm out of my mouth. I licked and lapped, poked and prodded with my tongue, and breathed in her wonderful, musky aroma when I was allowed to breathe.

She used me to fuck herself with.

I was a toy. 

Her toy.

After her third, she dragged me, again by my hair, over her knees and, picking up the paddle again, spanked me. 

Just as hard.

Just as painful. 

"I'm going to spank you until you cum."

She did, and with a lot of help, I did too. Her arm snaked around my waist, her hand sliding down my tummy to my crotch, and her fingers, in time with the repeatedly punishing paddle swats, harder again now so I could feel them on my desensitised cheeks, made me cum.

The spanks reddened me almost to my knees as I came, and my breathless panting escaped me between cries of exquisite pleasure and excruciating pain.

I felt my world in every nerve of my torment and every sweaty trickle. 

"Get up, get showered, and get dressed," she said, tossing the paddle and me to the floor. "We've got a table booked in just over an hour. Don't make us late. If we are... well."

A little under an hour later, we walked into the pub and were welcomed like old friends.

"Are you enjoying your stay with us?"

The lady behind the bar was the owner's daughter. 

"Yes, thank you," Jack answered. "We have a table booked."

"Yes, of course. The cushion has been removed from one of the chairs, as requested. This way, please."

Jack let the beautifully dressed woman, no more than a girl really, walk a few paces ahead and pulled me towards her.

"I saw you grimace. A little bit more discomfort from the hard chair on your soft behind. You will sit as still as you can. Your spanked and sore bottom and thighs are all part of my pleasure like the wonderful face fucking you just gave me. Using your face to fuck myself with was a treat I'll never forget. If you wriggle too much, well,. I think you know what'll be happening later."

"Yes miss."

"Thank you," she said to Marie as she seated us.

There was far more than a little discomfort as my recently beaten bottom, with so little protection from the flimsy dress and translucent panties Jack had provided, landed on the hard wooden chair seat.

I winced and received an admonishing look.

"Two double whiskies and cokes, please, and two of the steak specials. We saw them advertised on your website. Thank you."

"I'll be back in a few moments with your drinks."

By then, my instructions were complete.

I didn't follow them very well.

We talked, ate, drank, and talked some more. I realised that what we'd just been doing was only a part of what Jack wanted. She asked me about myself and my plans, perhaps a little intense for this early in our relationship if that even was what it was.

And it always came back to her making sure I was okay.

"If ever you're not," Jack said, after ice cream was eaten and liqueur was sipped into non-existence, "just tell me. I want this to work. Whatever it takes. Within reason."

There was a long silence, and we were both watching the lights glitter from the bangle around my wrist.

Taking out her wallet, she removed a banknote and left it weighted down by the glass pepper mill.

She took my hand and led me back to the lodge. 

As we passed her car, even sportier and more prestigious than mine, she popped the boot and retrieved a wicked-looking cane, three feet long, almost half an inch thick, with a blue leather handle binding, and she swished it noisily through the air.

"Only for the naughtiest girl's bottoms," she said as we walked through the door. "Settee," she said, dropping her bag and jacket on the closest chair and indicating the place where the discomfort began mere hours ago.

I draped myself once again over its back, and Jack used the cane tip to flip my skirt out of the way.

That vulnerability again.

She switched on a quietly buzzing vibrating toy and, kicking my feet further apart, let it vibrate tightly against my already throbbing, panty-clad slit. After a few moments, without another word being spoken, she slipped it inside the gusset and deep inside me, using the 'ears' to overstimulate my already overstimulated clitoral pearl.

My final orgasms of the day were also accompanied by some extraordinarily intense, ridiculously hard whacks with a heavy leather paddle that Jack just had to hand, once again reigniting the pain from earlier in the day. 

...and Wednesday morning I arose, not sure how we ended up in such a tangle.

To avoid making too much noise, I took coffee onto the veranda overlooking the beautiful countryside. Even this early, there were others around, and standing at the balustrade, I waved to the girl who had taken such good care of us the previous evening. She was walking a pretty, excitable spaniel puppy and came over to speak.

"I wasn't sure we'd see you early enough, but breakfast is being served," she said, looking at her watch. "Now, if you're interested, I like to be out early to make the most of a beautiful day. It looks like you're the same."

I smiled in agreement and offered coffee, which she politely declined.

"Bella needs her walk, and so do I."

"No problem."

"By the way," Marie continued as she walked away, "your daughter is really pretty. But what had she done?"

"Sorry! What? She's not my daughter. And what do you mean?"

Marie began to reply but began to stutter apologetically. 

"I'm s-s-so s-sorry. I-I just th-thought... I'm sorry."

She began walking away.

"No wait? What do you mean, 'what had she done'?"

Marie tried to keep walking, but I called her back.

And she came and stood below the veranda. 

"I kind of know what I heard through the door."

I stayed silent for the most uncomfortably long moment.

"You—well, I thought it was you—were spanking her. Weren't you?"

I still said nothing.

"After I found that huge tip, I thought it was a mistake. People usually just leave a bit of change—a few pounds at most. Never a twenty. So when I'd closed the bar, I came to bring it back. I heard what I heard and left it in the envelope I'd put it in on the table out front."

"Wait there," I told her, going to retrieve the envelope. 

When I returned, she was sitting at the table on the veranda, her puppy curled at her feet, with my still-hot coffee in her hand.

"She's your partner, isn't she?"

"Yes," I replied, only in this moment realising the truth in my answer. 

"And she," Marie continued, "was spanking you?"

It took me longer to answer this time.

"Wasn't she?" Marie said, pushing for an answer.

"Yes. She was," I replied, walking back inside to get myself another drink. Sitting, I stood again rather quickly, the pain from the previous day's punishment regime taking its toll.

"Why? If you don't mind me asking,

"Because that's what I love best in the whole wide world," Jacqueline answered from the doorway, "especially when I've been awoken at this ungodly hour."

I spun to face her, and Bella began an excited dance with a new best friend.

"And before someone," she said, staring directly at me, "has provided me with coffee."

"Sorry Jack," I began.

She stared even more intensely. 

"Sorry, miss," I corrected myself.

"Sorry, Miss," Marie also said. "It's my fault too. I kept Maggie talking. I'll go now."

"Are you sure?" Jack asked.

"Pardon," Marie replied.

Jack waited

"Miss." Marie continued.

"Well," Jack continued, putting her coffee on the table and retrieving the paddle she'd used on me the previous evening to such wonderful effect. "For waking me so early, it's still only just after six; after all, I'm going to spank Maggie. Here. Now. On this veranda. Bending provocatively over this table. I may even divest her of her panties to do so."

I thought she was joking. 

"You, Marie, were part of the reason I'm now awake, so don't you deserve some of the same?"

"What? Sorry? Pardon? You what, think I should be spanked for waking you?"

"Do you?"

"No! Well, maybe? Are you going to spank Maggie? Yes then. It was my fault too."

Jack caught my eye, and in an instant, I knew she was asking my permission to continue. I gave her the slightest, almost imperceptible nod.

Looking out over the expansive landscape and noting just how far we were from the other lodges on the other side, Jack made a decision.

"Right, you two naughty girls," she said, slapping the paddle noisily into her palm. "Maggie, lift your robe up and out of my way and pull those panties up tight, right between your bottom cheeks. I want bare skin. And bend over the table edge. No. Go and get two cushions for each of you. The table edge may be a little hard. Marie."

"Yes miss?"

"Have you been spanked before?"

She hesitated.

"Okay. I'll decide for you. Yes. I'm going to spank you, too. Lift your pretty skirt..."

"But Miss..."

"No, 'buts' Marie. You were naughty, waking me up with Maggie, yes?"

"Yes miss."

"And?"

"I suppose I should get the same as her."

"I suppose you should. Now! Grab these cushions, lift your skirt, and join Mag over the table edge."

Marie did as she was told, and an 'oh,' escaped Jack.

The view that greeted her was somewhat incongruous. 

Sturdy walking boots. Tiny short socks. Long bare legs lead to lovely, round bare bottom cheeks bisected by the tiniest lacy thong imaginable. 

I glanced over towards Marie and then up from my bent-over position on the table at Jack. She was smiling broadly and enjoying every moment of this unexpected development. 

"This is going to sting, isn't it?" she said, gently smacking the offered bottom.

When there was no reply, Jack repeated the last two words, punctuating them with far harder spanks.

"Isn't it?"

"Yes miss! Yes, miss! Sorry miss! I wasn't sure you needed a reply, miss."

I'd learnt the hard way that questions needed answering, and amidst a constant mix of oohhs, oowws, and increasingly loud aahhs, Jack thoroughly spanked Marie's bare cheeks, and I could almost hear how red her bottom was becoming.

"Settle down," Jack eventually said, placing a flattened palm in the small of Marie's back and reddening her sit spot admirably. 

She quietened, and the only remaining sound amidst the fresh air and early morning birdsong was the rhythmic smack, smack, smacking of palm on no longer protesting posterior. 

I noticed both their breathing changes and remembered a similar transition of my own, only a few short weeks previously. Jack, I knew, would be experiencing powerful arousal, and, judging by Marie's now ragged breathing, she was experiencing something similar. 

And then, after a short, roaring silence, it was my turn. My panties were tugged up even tighter, the increased pressure on my almost exposed slit increasing my own heightened arousal. The hard paddle, adding to the bruising from the previous day, was exactly what I wanted and probably needed in this far-from-normal circumstance. 

"Stand up, Marie, and watch what happens to the naughtiest amongst us."

She did so, transfixed by the relentless paddling I was receiving.

"Will it be you next time, Marie?"

"No Miss. Yes, miss. Maybe miss."

Even in this outdoor situation, Jack took even more control, sliding my now-soaked sleep panties down to the mid-thigh and, watching for Marie's reaction, whacked me even harder.

"Don't you fucking dare," she growled in my ear, ensuring my orgasm, fast approaching and hers alone to control, receded quickly.

"You can go now, Marie. We'll be along in a very few minutes. Make sure there's a table free for us."

"But I'm not working this morning."

Jack's stare said more than words could.

"Yes miss. Come on, Bella. I've got work to do."

Marie almost scampered away, not wanting to displease Jack.

"I wonder," she said, absent-mindedly, "if anyone else notices the reddening below the hem of her pretty dress?"

She helped me up, kissed me deeply, and patted my bare bottom affectionately. 

"Come on. Breakfast awaits, and we have a table waiting."

As instructed, a table was ready for us, and Marie waited for us. It was a great breakfast. 

After speaking with the owner, we were able to book more time there as long as we were out on Saturday morning, giving us a couple more nights before going our separate ways again. 

We had a great day. Shopping and eating. Checking out a gallery run by and for local artists. And we picked up tickets for a concert that evening in the local town hall venue.

A great day, except my insecurities began to rear their ugly little heads, festering until I could barely cope.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Jack replied immediately. 

"Do you want her now?"

"What?"

"The cute, sexy, young waitress?"

"Fuck no! Absolutely not. And if I've made you feel anything but loved, yes, loved, I'm sorry beyond imagination. I was broken when we met in that hotel bar. Yes. Broken."

Jack held my hand tightly.

"Unless I've misread everything, we fit rather well together. Don't we?"

"I thought so, even though I'm still getting used to all of it."

"And..."

"And I can't, sometimes, help myself," I blurted. "I really like you, but to be truthful, I don't understand why you'd like me."

"Stop," Jack instructed.

I stopped.

"You're beautiful. You're sexy. You're very intelligent and give as good as you get. With Marie, we both just went with the flow, but it was, is, you that I wanted. So much. Your cherry-red bottom accepting whatever punishment I deem fit. Your sticky wet cunt is just awaiting my attention."

"It still is," I said, interrupting her flow.

We left the concert, even though it was excellent, at the interval.

"I feel as though you should, maybe, be the one holding the paddle," Jack said, holding me in a hard, erotic kiss against the inside of the lodge door.

"Yes miss. I feel as though I'd like that too," I said breathlessly. And it was like, well, a very different kind of excitement was overtaking me.

The dampness between my thighs and the taut erection of my nipples returned immediately. 

"Miss, I think, no, I know, that sometimes the spanker needs a dose of their own medicine. I'm going to administer that medicine. Now."

She looked contrite.

"Strip to your underwear," and I watched as more and more of this pretty young woman came into view.