First spanking.
A billion thoughts race through my mind.
An endless list of things to do, to finish, to catch up on. And yet, I am here.
Why am I here? Is this a waste of time? Why seek out an experience I’m not even sure I want?
A shiver runs across my bare skin, and suddenly, I remember.
I had forgotten that my breasts were exposed. And yet, my heels are still on, my stockings too.
I had forgotten that I am in a stranger’s home—a man I barely know. Two meetings, a handful of messages exchanged, and now I am here, at his mercy.
I take a deep breath.
It has been minutes now. Minutes spent bent over this couch, my bare ass offered to his gaze. The position is uncomfortable. My shoes, so elegant at the start of the evening, are painful now.
Why endure this, when so many obligations are waiting for me elsewhere?
My mind spins again, juggling unfinished tasks and this unreal situation. My head burns, my skin shivers.
Then, a shock.
It comes out of nowhere. The sound cracks through the air. A wave of heat spreads instantly across my skin.
A slap? No.
A spanking.
My first.
The second lands on the opposite cheek, and my head tilts forward. No real pain—just heat, spreading, awakening something deep under my skin.
It’s good.
It’s liberating.
My entire body stirs to life under the impact. For a fleeting moment, the fog in my mind lifts. No lists, no obligations, no overthinking. Only warmth, only need, only the sharp pull of desire climbing higher. My back arches slightly.
I wait for the next.
I want it.
I need it.
His fingertips trail slowly up my spine, sending another shiver rippling through me, unraveling me. Then, another slap. Harder. This time, a cry escapes my lips. I don’t hold it back.
I don’t want to.
It’s indecent to crave this.
I should be ashamed.
But I feel none.
Tonight, I don’t have to think.
Tonight, I don’t decide.
All I have to do is take what he’s willing to give.
And I want to do well. I want him to be proud of me. Even if I barely know him.
One last spanking—softer, this time. His hand soothes over the heat of my skin, and a cool breath of air makes me shiver. He has stepped back.
Slowly, I rise, unsteady. My legs are trembling. My cheeks are flushed, my eyes shining.
He watches me.
Dark eyes heavy with desire. A hint of a smile on his lips. He waits.
What am I supposed to say?
I don’t know.
I don’t even know how I feel.
I don’t even remember my name.
So I lean against the couch, meet his gaze, and finally murmur:
“Thank you, Sir.”