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I put both of my hands meekly in my lap, and flashed a naughty stare in the man’s direction, though I was hardly being humble. I liked the mockery of it, thinking that if I had to look like this silly school girl, I’d play it a little campy and accentuate the mischievous nature of my role. For the briefest instant my eyes flashed nastily in Reggie’s direction. Reggie flashed me a warning reproach.
“Oh, Mr. Locke, if it’s a school girl’s ass you need to whale upon, it’s a school girl’s ass you’ll have,” I said, starting to feel the full excitement of this game. “We’ll just be a naughty old man, and a naughty young school girl playing together, won’t we?”
Mr. Locke looked at me surprised by my boldness, and there were a few amazed ‘ahhhhhhs’ around the table as my cheeky manner was noted by the other guests.
I was just beginning to appreciate the possibilities of the moment, when I heard Reggie bark from the other end of the table, where his snapping eyes were fixed on me. “Andrew!”
“Yes, Reg?” our host replied, looking down the table at the aristocratic blond man.
“If everyone is willing, perhaps we should get on with the event at hand,” my dominant suggested. “I’d like to begin personally, if you don’t mind. Alexandra has appeared to forget herself tonight. She’s been warned about her arrogance. I’m afraid she’s even more deserving of a good punishment than even I thought she’d be.”
“By all means,” Andrew Locke said, pulling away from the table. He looked pleased with Reggie’s suggestion, and he eyed me sternly, feeling his sense of power over me take charge. “Miss Morgan.” He nodded at me.
All the formal pleasantries were dispensed with, and I was glad. I couldn’t stand to draw out the inevitable any longer. The god awful clothes were making me angry the way they forced me back to a time I’d just as soon forget. And there was that old prickly agitation of lust and fear combined that I so often had with Reggie in the past. With all this assaulting me again, I just as soon get on with the and get it over with!
At that instant, I really felt like the recalcitrant brat these people believed me to be. I could think of nothing more befitting than having my bottom paddled, and I was about to break out in some nasty vindictive tirade against them all, that would certainly have proven how much I really needed the punishment that was to follow. This whole thing was suppose to be an adventurous lark, but obviously it was hitting chords in me I hadn’t played in a long time.
I followed Reggie as he briskly retreated into the living room, and watched as he pulled a chair into the center and sat down. He and I were center stage, where everyone could easily witness what was about to happen.
“I thought we’d things handled this afternoon, Alexandra, when you were so willing to submit. But it seems that you need another lesson before we get on with other more pleasant things tonight.”
I could see he was furious with me, his eyes shooting daggers. Gone was the Reggie I was used to seeing, calm, efficient and in total control. I had no idea that my impudent comments at the table would infuriate him so much – not like it hadn’t happen before! For a second I thought he might just be putting on the anger for show, although it wasn’t like Reggie to do that. I was quite sure I’d pissed him off and the anger was real.
I didn’t have long to ponder the possibilities, since he quickly pulled me down over his lap with a grand flourish. Reaching down to the hem of my skirt, he drew the garment up to my waist and tucked it into the waistband. Framed by the pink of my garter belt and hose, my gleaming ass cheeks were naked for all to see, poised and ready for what I suspected would be a nasty assault. Frankly, I would have been happy if he’d stripped me of the horrid clothes altogether; but this was going to be a textbook spanking, nothing too raunchy, but nothing sweet either.
From out of nowhere a wooden spanking paddle appeared. I saw it from the corner of my eye as I stared up from my humbled position as the guests gathered a convenient distance around us.
Without any more preliminaries, Reggie brought the paddle down on my bottom, and I instantly howled loudly in reply to the first mean smack. It was for good reason, this was a no nonsense paddling from the beginning, and the sting was fierce. I kicked my legs to show my protest, as much out of anger as out of any pain—at least at the start. Whatever this mysterious ingredient of rage was, it was certainly fueling my fires. I fought Reggie’s control like I’d never fought it before, as the sharp smack smack of the paddle continued to wreak havoc on my flaming skin.
“You’d better watch yourself, Alexandra, if you keep up this nonsense,” he gave the stern warning. “I’ll go on forever, and then turn you over to someone else when I get tired.”
But Reggie’s words had no effect. I answered with another wail, wriggling against him nastily. Though he managed to hold me tightly with his left hand pinned at my waist with a firm steady force, I could tell he was not expecting to have to battle me so forcefully.
“Dammit stop!” The unexpected cry pierced the air, as the paddle descended with an ever more fierce intensity. My cries went on, my rage not diminishing for even one tiny bit. I’d be damned if I was going to submit to this without a fight.
To my shocked surprise, Reggie suddenly stopped the spanking, pushed me from his lap and stood up, all the while managing to keep one of my hands firmly in his.
“Andrew,” he turned to our surprised host. “Miss Morgan and I need to talk in the next room.”
“Certainly,” Andrew replied. No one seemed to know exactly what was going on, and certainly I didn’t.
“What the hell’s going on with you?” Reggie demanded to know as soon as we were alone in an adjoining sitting room.
I was breathing heavily, my sobs and tears and rage were still right at the surface. I wanted to scream.
“I don’t know,” I finally snapped at him, through my labored breathing.
“You’d better.” He leveled me with a severe, fatherly grimace, then he lifted my bowed head and squarely in the eye. “Talk! Now!” he demanded.
I couldn’t stop looking at him, though I continued to struggle with his grip on my chin. He kept bringing my face back so I finally gave up, and let his constant stare penetrate me.
“I hate these clothes,” I finally stammered.
“You what?” He looked befuddled.
Hadn’t he heard me?
“I hate these clothes!” I repeated, my voice rising with anger.
