‘I come here for a nice cup of tea.’ He said ‘nice cup of tea’ in a ridiculous parody of an English accent, which made Poppy squash a smile. ‘But this is not nice at all. This is like hot water and mud.’
‘Would Sir like me to make him another cup? I will try harder next time.’
‘You can make me another cup. But first I will give you something to make you, to make you, oh, I don’t know. I’m going to spank you.’
Poppy did her best frightened little squirm and sharp intake of breath.
‘Yes, sir,’ she breathed. ‘I deserve it. I am sorry I displeased you.’ Under her breath, she added, ‘You need to shut the screens.’
He drew the shutters closed.
‘Listen,’ he said, once they were confined in their little private square. ‘Is it permitted to ask your name?’
‘Ichisumi,’ said Poppy mechanically.
He sighed.
‘OK. Well, I am Bruno. So I guess you could come here.’
He was kneeling back on his heels and he patted his thigh.
Poppy crawled slowly forwards on all fours, pushing the tea tray aside to clear her path. When she reached Bruno, she looked briefly up at him, then at his lap, making absolutely sure that that was what he was asking of her.
She had thought it would feel exciting and hot to drape herself, bottom up, over a strange man’s thighs for a spanking but, now it came down to it, it was ludicrously like a drama role-play at school. It made her feel giggly and frisky, but not particularly sexy.
‘You are very obedient,’ commented Bruno. ‘So.’
He tugged the hem of the tiny skirt, then lifted it. She could almost hear his heartbeat and sense his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He shifted slightly underneath her. She pushed her bottom up, suddenly engulfed by those sensations she had found lacking seconds before.
She was ready to be spanked. Her first paid spanking. And the man was attractive and seemed, actually, quite nice. She must count herself lucky.
‘OK, you are ready?’ he whispered.
She nodded.
His hand fell, a moderate swipe, conferring the gentlest of stings to her bare bottom.
It was far removed from the walloping and grunting now reaching her ears from the next booth along. This was delicate, erotic rather than punishing. She relaxed her shoulders, looking forward to more.
‘How often do you get spanked?’ asked Bruno, trying a few more.
‘Not often enough,’ said Poppy, in a burst of honesty.
‘Really? You are such a bad girl? You need a lot of spanking?’
‘Yes, sir, oh yes.’
He was varying the tempo and the landing spots, covering her cheeks with perfect little firecrackers, just strong enough to send a longing message to her pussy. It was so nice, and such a long time since she’d been spanked so enjoyably; the doms she met from BDSM networking sites were always in such a rush to get to the whips and chains.
Bruno’s happy-go-lucky technique took her back to her first time, before all the knowledge and the sophistication – an innocent time, she now thought.
She had wondered then why people ever thought spanking was a punishment. The top had been just as sweet and considerate as Bruno, almost afraid to hurt her, it seemed. She had ended in a warm, pink glow that had lasted through the rest of the afternoon’s lovemaking.
‘This is learning your lesson, yes?’ Bruno said, adding a few lazy swats to the tops of her thighs.
‘Yes, sir.’
He can see it all. He can see my bum, and see my pussy through that stupid gauzy thong thing. He must be able to see that it’s wet.