‘Right,’ he said. ‘How’s this?’
The first smack was light, a pleasurable tap more than anything.
I wiggled my bottom, rather keen for another.
‘Good,’ I said.
He smacked harder.
‘Good, sir,’ he reminded me.
‘Good, sir.’ I concentrated on the little stain of warmth. It faded quickly enough and there was no reminder that it had ever been.
‘The thing is, Lulu, our friend will expect us to be pretty old hands at the spanking side of things. We need to get into our stride as soon as we can. What he likes is to know how much a sub can take, and then make her take just that little bit more.’
‘I don’t want to take more than I can handle,’ I objected. ‘Sir.’
‘No, right. So it’s important we work out exactly how much that is. Then we can scale it down when he’s around. Pretend it’s that little bit lower.’
‘Oh, I see. Yes. That’s more like it. Thanks. Sir.’
I liked the element of conspiracy. I liked feeling that Joss was on my side. It nerved me to take some more.
‘So,’ he said, ‘are you ready to find out? I want you tell me when it starts to feel uncomfortable, OK?’
‘OK, sir.’
‘You’re getting good at the verbal side,’ he said approvingly. ‘A quick learner, not that I was in any doubt.’
I glowed. Another tick in the box for me.
‘So we start with my hand. When it gets to the point where it’s starting to hurt – not the point where you can’t take any more, mind you – then you stop me.’
I nodded and clung to the chair back harder. Everything was gritted, from teeth to toes, if you can grit your toes.
‘You don’t need to clench so hard,’ he whispered, still stroking the upthrust curves of my bare bottom. ‘It won’t help.’
But I couldn’t relax.
‘We’ll work on that,’ he promised, and then there was a loud slap, louder than it was hard, but still enough to make me yelp in surprise.
I wanted, God knows why, to prove myself able to take quite a hard spanking. It seemed a matter of pride. So I kept my lips tight together, my eyes screwed shut and my fingers curled like claws while Joss kept up a steady rain of smacks on my behind.
‘Are you sure this is OK?’ he asked, keeping up the pressure. ‘You’re getting quite red. Not that I’m complaining.’
‘Fine,’ I said, but my breath was laboured and he noticed.
‘It’s not fine, is it?’ he said disapprovingly, staying his hand. ‘This is hurting you.’
‘A bit. But I don’t mind really.’
‘Lucy,’ he said, and I could tell I was being told off. ‘It’s vital that you’re honest with me here. Vital. If you can’t tell me how you’re feeling, I can’t do this.’
‘What are you going to do about it? Spank me?’ I asked with a wheezy little laugh.
‘I know this is all a big joke or game or whatever to you, but I’m taking it seriously,’ he scolded.
‘Seriously? Yeah. It’s so serious. You know what tack the papers will take, don’t you? They’ll ridicule the lot of you.’