Old-Fashioned Values (12 page)

“Why?”

“I asked her the same thing, and she said, ‘I think John’s different from Mark, maybe, or just further along, or something.’” Sally looked up at Mark nervously. “That doesn’t make you mad, does it?”

Mark shook his head. “No, of course not. She’s right.”

“So I said, ‘What does that have to do with it?’ and Rachel said, ‘Well, I think he could tell that I just need a spanking?’” Sally giggled then. “So I said, ‘Because you were naughty?’ and she said, ‘No, just because.’ It doesn’t make any sense to me, but she was really happy, so we set up the times to text, just in case, because Rachel read online that you should do that when you’re going to meet someone for BDSM.” She looked curiously at Mark. “Is BDSM the same thing as That Thing We Do, do you think?”

Sally was talking fast—almost babbling, although she made perfect sense, of course, just as she always did. Mark realized that she talked like that to soothe her nerves about doing what they were about to do, for the very first time. He snuggled her closer to him. “I’m not sure,” he said, “but they must be related. What about safewords?”

“Oh,” she said, apparently having forgot how the conversation had started, “um, well, Rachel told me about them, and said I should probably know about them, too.”

“Okay,” Mark said. “Why did you say ‘yellow’?” His arousal had receded, but his will to follow his script, take control and, yes, to deflower his girlfriend in the dominant fashion he had always dreamed of, waited, patient but unabated.

“I’m not sure? Maybe… I just wanted a little, um, pause?”

Mark looked into her eyes, and thought he saw something different there from what she was saying. Could he say what he thought she might really mean?

He took a deep breath, and spoke very gently. “Sally, did you want me to say that you have to take off your dress for me?”

Her eyes went wide again, and she whispered, “Yes.”

“Do you want me to tell you what it’s time for?”

“What is it time for?” She had begun to breathe hard again, and again Mark was as hard as a rock at the sound, and at the sight of her face radiating anxious submission.

“It’s time for me to take you in hand completely, Sally Lanchester. You’re going to become mine, here in this room, and from this time on when I wish to enjoy your body, I will do so.”

“Oh, God. Sir… I… I don’t…”

“Obey me, Sally. Get up and take off your dress. I want to see your underwear, and so you are going to show it to me.”

Mark saw, in a flash of insight, the genius of safewords. He didn’t think he could ever have said the things he had just said—the words that had lived in his imagination for so long—without knowing that Sally could say ‘yellow’ if she needed to.

Sally didn’t say ‘yellow.’ She did say, “Sir, I can’t. It’s not modest. Can’t we do something else? Can’t I put on my nightgown and get into bed, and then… you know?”

“No,” Mark said. “I’m going to have to spank you now, for disobeying me, but I promise you you’ll get much worse if you don’t stand up and take off your dress for me right now. You can have a hand-spanking over your panties, or you can have a belt-whipping, on the bare, if I have to take that dress off you myself.”

Sally gasped when Mark said, “take that dress off you myself.”

“I… oh, God.” Her breath came in little pants, and she did stand up then, whispering, “Oh, God…the-the-the hand-spanking, please, sir. I’ll do it. I’ll take my dress off. Please don’t whip me. I want to be a good girl for you so much, but… I’m a virgin, sir.”

Her eyes were closed, and she spoke seemingly more to herself than she did to Mark.

“Do as I say, Sally, and I won’t have to spank you very hard,” Mark said. “Take that dress off for me.”

She gasped again, softly, and opened her eyes. As she looked into Mark’s own steady gaze, he saw a tiny smile appear on her face, which made Mark’s heart feel light. Then she reached her hand slowly behind her to unzip the dress. A moment later, it dropped to the floor around her feet, and it was Mark’s turn to gasp, just a little.

“Sally,” he said, after a long moment, “what are you wearing?”

“Do you like it?” she whispered. “I got it for you. I felt so naughty, buying it, but I thought it was the kind of naughty you might not spank me for.”

Sally was wearing a white lace bra-and-panty set, and a garter belt with her ivory stockings. Mark’s mouth felt dry. He had been dreaming of this moment for so long, but the thought that it might be like this, that his girlfriend might somehow know exactly what lay hidden in Mark’s deepest fantasies, had been one he had pushed back over and over.

“I’m afraid I
will
have to spank you for it, just a little,” Mark said. Lord, she was beautiful, and sexy. Wavy red-gold hair in a little ponytail, blue eyes and button nose, little breasts just pushing out the white lace, and… he lowered his eyes, his cock pressing hard against his boxers, feeling naughty himself but also like at last he had the right to look at a girl exactly as he pleased, for Sally had made it so very plain that she loved it when he looked at her hungrily like that.

Sally’s sweet red curls were just visible through the translucent lace. Mark couldn’t help it: he reached out and hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, at either hip. As Sally gave a forlorn little whimper of submission, Mark pulled the panties down to the middle of her thighs, so that he could see what he had wanted to see now, really, since the first time they had sat next to one another on Sally’s first day of college.

Chapter Fourteen

Rachel put her phone down.

“Everything okay?” John said.

“Seems like it.”

“Alright, I’m going to ratchet things up a little, okay?”

“Okay,” Rachel said with a little trepidation in her voice.

“What did you actually get on your last English paper?”

“Oh, no. I… I mean, not a—not a C.”

“Rachel, what did you get?”

“A B,” Rachel said miserably.

“Kneel in front of me, Rachel,” John said very softly, “and hike up your dress a little. You’re going to go over my lap for your first spanking now.”

Rachel shot a panicked look at the dark glass that divided the passenger compartment from the driver.

“Don’t worry,” John said, letting the depth of his quickly developing affection come out fully in his voice. “The driver can’t see or hear anything.”

“Can’t we wait? I mean, I don’t care how late I get back… or if I do… just—I don’t think I’m ready…”

“Ready or not, you’re going to have your first spanking right now, Rachel. I’ll be the one to decide when you’re punished, from this moment on.” He looked into her eyes, searching for signs that she really was panicking. She needed this spanking so very much; John had not the slightest doubt of that. The question was whether she would get the full benefit of it now—or if her anxiety wouldn’t let her experience everything a really good first spanking could make a submissive girl experience. He reached out and took her hands in his. Her hands trembled, but he thought he could tell that they trembled the right way; she sensed the way John was about to change her life.

“Rachel,” he murmured, “remember your safewords.”

She gulped and nodded. “Wh-what if… what if I’ve been bad, and… and I don’t want to take my-my punishment? Can I…”

“Can you safeword to get out of a punishment? No.”

“But—”

“Right now, you can safeword to avoid being spanked here in the limo. That might mean that I spanked you in the limo on the way home, or it might mean that you come to my house for your spanking tomorrow or Monday.”

“But even if I safeword, I’m still going to have a spanking.”

“Yes, but not right now.”

Rachel nodded.

“The thing I want you to remember is that I already care very deeply about you, and I will never spank you unless I am absolutely sure that the spanking will help you. I suspect that my affection for you will only grow, but any romance that happens between us won’t affect the way I discipline you. I am taking you in hand tonight, and that means that I’m making a commitment to hold you accountable, and to punish you on your bare bottom when necessary.”

“Okay,” Rachel whispered. “So—so, it’s now, or it’s later.”

John nodded. “And I think it should be now.”

“Are you going to spank me hard?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, God.” As if forbidding herself to think any more about anything but the need she had already acknowledged for a man’s firm hand applied to her bare backside, Rachel slid to her knees in the spacious, carpeted passenger compartment of the limo. She looked up into John’s eyes, and he had the wonderful, heady feeling, accompanied as always by the stiffening of his cock, he got when he had a submissive girl on her knees in front of him.

Not taking her eyes off his, Rachel reached down to gather the blue polyester of her dress in her hands, and she began to raise the hem. When she had gotten it to just below her shapely, pleasantly rounded bottom, he reached out, put his hands under her armpits, and pulled her gently forward. She gave a startled little cry as he put her expertly over his lap, with her face in the car seat and her rear end positioned over his right thigh.

Then, quickly, he pulled the dress up the rest of the way, to reveal cute pink cotton panties with a slightly frilly border around her adorable snow-white thighs. He took the waistband in his fingers, right above the cleavage of her bottom-cheeks. Rachel gave a little gasp, and then a bigger one as John swiftly pulled her panties down to mid-thigh.

“Oh, God,” Rachel whispered into the car seat.

“Rachel,” John said. “I need you to understand that although grades are a very poor measure of a student’s true quality, at your age, with your ambitions, it is absolutely necessary to try your hardest. Did you try your hardest on this paper?”

“No,” Rachel said miserably.

“No, what?”

“No, sir. I’m so sorry.”

“Not as sorry as you’re about to be. You earned yourself your first spanking with this disappointing performance. I hope it helps you understand that this kind of thing isn’t going to be tolerated henceforth. If it doesn’t, I’m going to repeat this lesson until I see real improvement. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

John started to spank Rachel’s lovely, ample bottom. He didn’t start with hard smacks, because he knew how important it was to get her used to the sensation before he delivered the painful part of the lesson—and indeed just baring her bottom over his lap here in the limo already represented at least half of the lesson, to John’s way of thinking. He did, however, deliver the relatively light smacks quickly and evenly, so that Rachel’s pretty backside turned bright pink in short order, and she had begun to squirm and whimper.

“Hold still,” John said sternly, “with your bottom presented well. You earned this punishment, and you’re getting what you deserve.” Sometimes John thought that he must have some direct access to a kind of muse of spanking, for he seemed to have an instinct for exactly what a girl needed in the way of verbal chastisement to go with the physical chastisement he gave her. Rachel responded with a little sob of shame and discomfort, and tried to move her bottom in the way she thought he wanted.

The most wonderful thing lay for John in the way a spanking established such an incredibly deep level of communication between him and Rachel. As he began to spank her harder and harder, and she cried out in real pain, he could tell in the way her bottom tensed and un-tensed, in the way her right hand flew back involuntarily, in the way, when he grabbed that hand and held it tight, he felt her muscles acquiesce, that he and Rachel were right for each other, as he and Carol had been right for each other.

Before Rachel, John had spanked three women. Two of those relationships—Carol and, before her, Grace—had lasted longer than a year. He had lived with Carol for four years, though, and he had thought for a long time that they could simply go on indefinitely—that even the distance, which could be bridged by travel, wouldn’t really get in the way.

But he had come to see that telling Carol to spank herself, and to wear a butt plug for him, as good as it made both of them feel, could never be enough for either one of them. This was what he needed: a lovely, submissive girl like Rachel Lowenstein over his lap, responding to his firm hand and making him feel like the deepest, most loving part of him wasn’t going to waste.

Rachel had started to cry, with heaving sobs, and her whole bottom was red. John stopped spanking and began to rub gently. “Good girl,” he said. “You took your first spanking very well.”

“Thank you, sir,” Rachel said, trying to turn her head around to look at him, but failing because of the angle. “I’m sorry I tried to use my hand to stop you. I know good girls don’t do that.”

John raised her up and took her into his arms. Her voice was so plaintive, so wonderfully submissive that he had to fight the urge to kiss her very hard indeed.

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” he said. “It was your first time, and frankly I never mind holding a girl that way.”

Rachel giggled through the last remnants of her tears. “So I should do it every time?”

John chuckled. “Now I didn’t say that, young lady. Next time, it will get you spanked harder. I just said that I don’t mind.”

He pulled up her panties then, loving the feel of her skin and the excitement of having control over a pretty girl’s lingerie. He smoothed her skirt down over her punished bottom, and felt her tremble a little at the discomfort he had caused. Then John coaxed her back up onto the seat next to him, not letting her out of his embrace and ending up with his arm around her shoulders and their faces only a few inches apart, as they looked into one another’s eyes.

They were about to cross the Triborough Bridge, but he didn’t think that Rachel had even noticed that he was taking her to New York City for dinner. They should be at the restaurant in ten minutes, though, so this precious moment would end all too soon.

“John?… I mean, sir?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve, um, read a… lot, about spanking and…”