Seoul Spankings (7 page)

“Ah,” she said, and she cupped her left hand underneath the piece of kimchi wrapped around a bit of meat.

Ah
must be a command to open my mouth.
How else could she use that order? Stop it, Indi!

I wrinkled my nose but obeyed, and she placed the salty-sour package onto my tongue. I expected to wince at the sharp, acidic spice, but grilling had softened the kimchi into pleasant warmth. Paired with fresh meat, it offered the perfect combination. Without thinking, I swallowed and opened my mouth for another taste.

Hyunkyung laughed when she saw it. “No more turning your nose up at good food,” she said with satisfaction.

Spank
.

Yum.

Swat
.

Delicious.

Mesmerized, I watched her wrap a piece of red leaf lettuce around a bundle of grilled meat, kimchi, and a slice of garlic. She slapped the back of my dress, and I couldn’t taste my prize fast enough. The garlic stung my taste buds, but the lettuce added a soothing moisture to the salt and spice. I licked my lips, cheeks bulging.

Hyunkyung fed herself, watching me with evident pleasure. I jiggled my leg in impatience, reaching for the extra pair of chopsticks. She swatted the back of my hand. I should have been outraged, but instead I laughed. I scooted next to her, and she put her arm around me.

“I was born here,” she said, looking out at the countryside. “
Halmoni
insisted her first grandchild should be born in the
Cheongju
countryside where our ancestors lived, instead of the pollution of Seoul. My mother had to travel, nine and a half months pregnant, miserable, and angry.”

“Nine and a half?” I must have heard wrong.

Hyunkyung nodded. “Ten months, we say for a pregnancy. Not nine months like Americans. I came into this world a country girl, as
Halmoni
wished. Down that way is a stream where she taught me to catch fish. We won’t find any now, but I used to come here every once in a while.”

“Let’s go.” I jumped to my feet. “I want to see you catch the fish.”

For the first time, Hyunkyung looked nonplussed. It was a nice change from her self-composure in every area. “The stream is much smaller now,” she demurred. “We’ll have to take the flashlight with us, and that will scare the fish away.”

But she led me toward the stream, and I followed with the flashlight tied to a stake. When we got to the stream, she motioned for me to secure the light. Still shoeless, she stepped into the water while crouching and holding her hands together. I held back, afraid to disturb her. What we would do if she actually caught a fish, I had no idea. I didn’t eat fish or like it, but I had a feeling Hyunkyung would enjoy teaching me otherwise.

She waded through the water, gliding as if she were part water creature. “Shh,” she mouthed, but I hadn’t made a sound. She dipped her hands in the water, walking them across the sand on the bottom. It was too dark for me to see any fish, and I didn’t want to walk closer and startle any she might have found. I waited next to the flashlight, holding my breath.

Hyunkyung laughed, holding up a fish so small it must have been a minnow or its Korean equivalent. “Got it!” She held it aloft, cupping the wriggling baby in a double handful of water.

“Poor thing!” I couldn’t help pitying the desperate fish. At the same time, I was relieved we wouldn’t have to filet and roast it on the grill. Hyunkyung in her pantsuit back at the office building might not have done it, but this happy-in-nature Hyunkyung looked capable of anything. “Let it go home to its mama.”

For a split second, Hyunkyung’s frown made me think of a six-year-old denied a cookie. Then she lowered her hands and released the terrified fish back to its wild. I stepped into the stream, shivering with cold. Hyunkyung was tougher than she looked.

In a flash, she propped one bare foot on a rock and pushed me over her knee, and I straddled her leg in the most arousing position possible. I yelped but gave only a token fight. She raised my skirt, and I shivered once more but not from the cool night air.

“You are not impressed with my talents?” She hiked my dress up and wrapped it around her left wrist, sliding a cool hand over the nylons Miss Cha had chosen with such care.

“Let me go!” I gurgled with laughter, my stomach spinning with something crazy and wonderful. “If that’s what you call a fish, no wonder everyone thinks American stuff is big. We like to see our fish without a microscope.”

“Ah,” she purred, delight mingling with pretend sorrow. “Honor in Korea is a sacred thing, you know. I will have to teach you a lesson.”

I danced with impatience, primed from her earlier lessons with the meat. This time, I didn’t need any incentive to accept the swats cracking like slightly soggy gunshots. I hoped I wasn’t blushing. “What if someone hears?”

“Hears? I don’t think you should worry about hearing. What if someone sees?”

Hyunkyung split the borrowed hosiery at the seams, working deft fingers into panties now drenched with desire. She grabbed and squeezed, kneading my virgin flesh and slapping as if to tenderize. Hungry for a taste too slow in coming, I rocked back and forth on her thigh, willing her to satisfy me.

She spanked, slowly at first and building into a controlled burst of energy. My heart raced as I crossed my legs in the effort not to climax in her lap. Then, just as I could not bear one more second, she cupped my chin and lowered her mouth toward mine. Gently, at first, exploring the meeting of our lips for the first time. The smoky taste of grilled meat lingered on her lips, and I dared to anchor my fingers in her hair and draw her toward me.

And then a voice called out in the darkness, the way God’s voice must have called out to Adam and Eve after they discovered nakedness.

“Ee Sajangnim? I smelled something burning, and I worried when I saw the unattended grill. Are you all right?”

Indigo bolted from my touch, throwing her skirt down and soaking the hem. I couldn’t make out whether her face showed shame, but my own cheeks burned. Like a wayward schoolgirl, I followed the voice back to the picnic site.

“It’s late,” I apologized. “We should go home.”

Minhee bit her lip. “Of course, Ee Sajangnim.” She tutted at Indigo’s torn stockings and wet skirt, but she avoided asking unwanted questions. Minhee might not have been Miss Cha, but she was a serviceable substitute. “Here’s a dress for you to change into,” she said, holding out a yellow chiffon creation perfect for Indigo. The butter-yellow full skirt and draped gathers around the neckline were an inspired choice for Indigo’s pink complexion. I pretended to look the other way as she changed into the new dress. The layers of skirt floated in a graceful shimmer, and it hurt to restrain myself from touching her.

Han princess arrested for sexually assaulting foreigner.

I hated to take her back to the city, even if it meant we could have privacy. The stench of sewer and piled-up garbage bags always made me long for the countryside. Father had raised me to be a Seoulite, but
Halmoni
ensured I would never forget her roots. My roots.

What would
Halmoni
have said about the peanut debacle? Would she have laughed it off as more ridiculous media frenzy, or would she have muttered that I wasn’t too big for a switching?

Within minutes, Minhee had installed Indigo and me back into our reclining chairs. I accepted the pink floral
damyo
and tried to sleep, but every nerve vibrated with desire. I wondered whether Indigo felt the same, or if she appreciated the interruption. Had I taken things too far? Would she run, screaming, to the airport tomorrow?

The airport
. “Minhee-ssi.” I sat up.

“Yes, Ee Sajangnim?”

“Cancel her ticket for tomorrow. She’ll stay with me.”

Minhee hid her surprise or lack of surprise. “Yes, Ee Sajangnim.”

I lay back in the chair, humming to myself. Indigo had fallen asleep already, worn out by the long evening. All the better to have fun once we arrived. I grinned and forced myself to breathe deeply. Within minutes, I joined Indigo in sleep.

***

When Minhee woke us up, it took me a few minutes to understand her words. The uncomfortable, desperate throbbing under my skirt made it difficult to stand up, let alone walk. I let Minhee think it was due to going barefoot by the stream.

“Here,” she said, setting out a pair of black ballet flats. I walked in exquisite comfort toward the door, but Indigo hobbled on her shoe-weary feet. I let her lean against me, and I took her to my own suite instead of Mugunghwa.

“Make yourself comfortable,” I said, darting into the bathroom. I needed a quick refresh before what I hoped would be a sizzling night.

I didn’t know what I expected when Hyunkyung brought me to her rooms, but I should have known. Panicking, I picked up her room extension and punched in the phone card numbers from Great-Aunt Matilda. Just after ten in the morning her time, so she would be awake. I waited until the answering machine picked up.

“This is Matilda. Leave a message if it’s important. If not, don’t bother.”

I gave a smile at her trademark gruffness. “I need help,” I said. “Something’s weird here. Call me back to make sure everything is okay.”

Hyunkyung emerged with the scent of fresh mint toothpaste and cleansing cream. She opened her hands to me, and I shrugged.

“Come,” she said, and I did. “We must correct your failing.”

I thought back to the shared, all-too-brief kiss, and I wondered whether she preferred more tongue.

“You must learn to say my name correctly.”

I groaned. “I’ll never get it right! It’s too difficult.”

She took out a cedar chest and opened it. Inside lay an assortment of sexual toys, paddles, gloves, blindfolds, a whip, and a riding crop. I gulped. Maybe it was a good thing Great-Aunt Matilda would check on me. “Choose two.”

“Okay.” That was easy enough. I searched for the least intimidating, holding up a thin wooden spoon and a red silk ribbon.

She shook her head and put the ribbon back. “Not your first time. How about this?” She picked out a thick leather glove, right hand only.

“Sure.” I didn’t know her game, but it couldn’t be wilder than Greg’s demands for threesomes that mainly included my performing with another girl under his direction.

Greg. Damn it! Focus, Indi!

“Come here,” she purred, and I spread my legs before bending over the edge of the bed. She stood over me and held me down, inspecting every inch. “Such a pretty color against your skin,” she crooned. “We’ll have to turn your bottom a lovely shade of rose to complement your new dress.”

Good thing she didn’t plan on matching the blue-green of the first dress.

She tugged the glove onto her right hand and swatted my bottom with hard, steady pressure. The leather gave an extra thud to the spanks, but I rumbled at the increase in warmth. If this was how she meant to turn the color of my skin, she could do it all night.

Then she picked up the wooden spoon, and I remembered, too late, the terror that innocent-looking tool had inflicted in my childhood. Mom hadn’t spanked often, but every once in a while she got stressed enough to grab and whack. I had forgotten how much it hurt until now.

“Stop!” I squirmed, yeowched, and demanded more time when the sting of wood against naked flesh grew to be too much. Whenever I begged for a break, she switched the spoon to the other hand and massaged with the heavenly glove until pain faded into a pleasant glow.

“Say my name,” she demanded, and my stomach lurched. This was a dangerous game, if my previous lesson with Miss Cha was any indicator. I doubted Hyunkyung would be as patient.

When my efforts proved too slow, she switched out the wooden spoon for the riding crop and fastened the vibrating bit of silicone against my most sensitive parts. The straps went around my hips like a kinky pair of panties. Then she switched the toy on, and my knees buckled in the effort not to wet myself. Greg and I had played with a toy or two, but he never liked anything designed to give me pleasure rather than him.

I moaned, thrusting my hips and begging Hyunkyung to give me release. Instead, she switched the toy off and made me practice each syllable.

“Hyun.”

“Hun!”

As punishment, she refused to turn the vibrator back on. “Say it correctly.”

I labored to follow her instructions, but forming any recognizable syllable was an impossible job. By sheer luck, my lips and tongue produced something close enough that she gave me a few moments of shuddery bliss. “Heyun,” I repeated. “Hyun. Hyun!” Something in my brain clicked, and I could say it right. As a reward, she drew the riding crop in a circle around my right bottom cheek and slapped hard enough to intensify the buzzing of the butterfly.

“Restrain yourself,” she said, and I gave a slight hop in the effort to maintain composure. “Kyung.”

“Ka-yong.”

She switched the toy off, and I almost cried in frustration. “I’m doing the best I can!”

“I know,” she said, leaning in to nibble my left ear. “You’ll have to make your best better.”

I fought through the devilish letters until I could produce the syllable correctly. “Kyung!” She sent me into a shiver of pleasure.

“Now, say it together. Hyunkyung.”

“Hyunkyung,” I parroted, and she unstrapped the vibrator. “I said it right!” I protested.

“Yes,” she said. “But you will never use my name in public. Outside these walls, I am Ee Sajangnim. Do you understand?”

I writhed with unmet need. “Why did you make me learn Hyunkyung, then?”

“Because,” she cooed, turning down the sheets and pulling me to lie next to her, “you need to say it right when I make you scream it in bed.”

Scream I did, until I grew hoarse with spent lust. I panted, lying back on the pillows, trembling with the effort to move my little finger.

“Spread your legs,” she ordered. She might as well have told me to fly to the moon. “Spread them,” she repeated, “and I’ll show you a new toy.”