Across my Knee: The Delights of Spanking. Various

smiled at the girl’s back, and reached up and unzipped Ali’s dress. Goose bumps formed on Ali’s shoulders. She was glorious in black satin and stockings, and Marie stared, ran her fingers down Ali’s back, watching carefully as Ali shivered at her touch. The sight of the girl’s underwear brought a powerful throbbing of desire through Marie. Ali had wanted this all along. She dressed for the evening with the desire to be unwrapped.

      I can do anything, Marie thought, and this is how it feels. She almost laughed with delight.

      ‘I want you to learn to do as I say,’ she whispered, her red lips almost touching Ali’s tiny ear. ‘I want you to learn how to mind me, before we move on to other things. I think you would love to spend time with Ben, wouldn’t you? Aren’t you curious about what it’s like with him? About how it feels with him?’

      Ali used every ounce of her concentration to keep herself upright, to maintain an illusion of control.

      Without saying a word, Marie abandoned Ali, sat on the sofa and watched the young woman. Could it be that Ali would stay there until she told her to move? Was that possible? What would she do if Ali moved? She suddenly wished Ben were there, just for a moment, until she saw Ali’s hand reach around to cover her bottom. She felt self-conscious, and Marie knew the feeling well. She also knew what Ben would say.

      ‘Stay still.’ Her voice sounded authoritative to both of them.

      Ali stopped. Marie could have clapped but knew that would spoil the picture.

      Marie’s heart beat so hard that she could see her dress bounce against her chest. Could she do this? Did she have the nerve? She wanted to. She wanted to know how it felt.

      ‘Ali, come and stand by me. Just here, to my right.’ She pointed.

      Ali’s face was the image of regret and anticipation, presented to Marie as Ali fought to obey. With tiny geisha steps Ali crossed the room. It was only a short distance, but submission always feels farther than it is.

      ‘Over my lap please.’ Oh bugger. Should she have said ‘please’? She tried to remember if Ben ever said please. She pondered this as Ali slowly leaned forward over her lap. Willing her hands to stop shaking, Marie stroked Ali’s knickers as they spread over round curves.The dark, smooth material stretched under her hand as she moved it down the centre of Ali’s bum. It was a subtle move but Marie knew just what Ali felt. She knew how much Ali wanted her to act; she was walking the bridge between fear and anticipation. They both were. Very slowly, with care not to let Ali feel her shake, Marie lowered Ali’s knickers. Her bum was beautiful. Marie cupped her hand over it. It was round, pert and perfect. It was so pale that all Marie wanted in the world was to bring colour to it.

      ‘I know how you feel about today, and this is for that feeling, for both of us, because we both know you earned it.’

      She raised her hand and brought it down sharply. Ali made a little cry, but it was only surprise, and Marie wanted to hear more than that. Cupping her hand she set to work, and for several minutes she peppered Ali’s little bum with spanks. It turned light pink, and Ali moved a little, a tiny squirm, but it was not enough. Marie knew what she felt. It was embarrassment, but more than that it was impatience. Marie tried harder and used more force; she spanked as hard as she could, up and over the waiting globes. She wanted more. She wanted to do more. She wanted to hear a peal of distress. She listened. She heard a little sound but she recognised it as encouragement. She did not want encouragement, she wanted Ali to wonder why she had asked for such a thing, she wanted Ali to mind her, to feel an edge of regret for what she had got into.

      Marie stopped and thought. What would hurt? What would make her put her hands back and try to make me stop?

      She reached down into her bag and found a small paddle hairbrush. She knew this hurt, because she had felt its impact countless times.

      Ali called out at the first slap, but Marie ignored her and went for all she was worth. From the top of Ali’s thighs she worked up and down the bottom. The colours that blossomed fascinated her as, over and over, she covered the bottom in quick, hard pops. She felt the most powerful thrill, and it was all her choice. She did not ever want to stop, but did all that she wanted to; she remembered the sit spot; she remembered how much it hurt when the same spot was focused on; she remembered how it felt not to be able to predict pace or position. Everything she had learned on the receiving end, she used in that spanking.

      And then she heard it. She heard Ali struggling, really struggling to accept what was being done to her. Marie did not stop. She wanted more, and she took everything she wanted. I am not the girl I normally am, she thought. I am the girl in charge now. I can do anything.

      At last, exhausted, she quit. Her breath came quick, and she felt invigorated. She looked at the bottom before her, a little horrified at its condition.

      But then she remembered. She was in charge now. She could do what she liked. There was no need to be horrified; it was not her bottom.

      ‘Stand in the corner. No rubbing.’

      And she watched, enthralled, as Ali stiffly and slowly stood, and hobbled to the corner by the window.

      Marie shook her head in disbelief, then sat for half an hour and watched and wondered at what she had done.

      Then she stood and walked over to the girl in the corner, the girl who was not her, and whispered into her ear. ‘In one week’s time you will come to our house. It is my Ben’s birthday. You will come dressed as you were tonight, and you will do what you are told when you arrive. Do you understand?’

      Her voice was gentle, like honey in warm summer woods.

      Ali nodded.

      ‘Good girl.’

      Marie kissed her shoulder gently, took her bag and left.

      When she had gone, Ali walked stiffly to her room. She stood for several minutes staring in the mirror at her bruised and swollen bottom. She stroked it with her head to one side, a gentle hand where before there had been only pain.

      Is this how it is? she wondered. Is this how it is to be punished? She sighed. ‘I thought there would be more.’ But more of what, she could not, or would not, think.

      * * *

      Marie finished telling her side of the story to Ben, not once daring to turn around and look at him, like a successful Orpheus.

      ‘I am beginning to understand now,’ said Ben, bringing Marie back to the present. ‘It would have been a good idea to talk to me about this in advance, don’t you think?’

      ‘I know,’ she said to the rug, ‘that this is a bit unusual, but you’ve been in charge of me for years, and I have been spanked so often and in so many ways that I wanted to know how it felt. I wanted to show you. I wanted –’ she struggled with the final bit of truth ‘– I wanted to kiss her, like you kiss me. I wanted to share that with you.’

      She paused, and the silence rang in her ears.

      ‘Did I screw up?’ she asked at last.

      The room was heavy with waiting. All the power she had felt while she recounted the story dissipated and flew like a butterfly to Ben’s finger while she waited for his verdict.

      ‘I can’t believe that you did all of this without asking me, and, more importantly, without really thinking through the effect it would have on Ali.’

      His displeasure made her sit up and search for a way to make it better.

      ‘But I did, we talked about it, I just didn’t tell you everything because I didn’t want you to know about the surprise. It’s supposed to be a happy thing. Ali has always liked you, ever since she met you at the Christmas party three years ago. She thinks you’re gorgeous, and she told me. I do too. Two women who think you’re gorgeous, what’s not to love about that?’

      Marie finished with a smile, and Ben tapped the edge of the chair with his fingers.

      ‘OK,’ he said.