Dalia's Discipline

Dalia and I had been dating for two months when a conversation took an unexpected turn. We were sitting on my sofa, watching a female grappling match on streaming TV when she said, "Why doesn't she punch?"

"They're not allowed to punch," I replied, though I suspected she knew that.

"Well, I'm allowed to punch," she said, balling a fist and pressing it gently against my upper arm.

"No, you're not," I said mirthfully.

"I'm going to punch you hard," she said, still pressing her fist, but without a punch.

"You do that, and I'll spank you," I said, feeling cheerful about mentioning a possibility we'd never discussed, but in which I had a definite interest.

Dalia just giggled and withdrew her fist. We turned back to watching the grappling without further discussion, though my thoughts lingered on the brief exchange. Dalia's 5'6" to my 5'10" and at least 50 pounds lighter, so I was confident that if it ever came to any grappling between me and her, she'd soon be in a submissive and embarrassing position: over my lap, the 26-year-old brunette bested and now treated like a wayward brat. It was an enticing fantasy.

A week later, we were cooking together at her apartment, me following her lead as her culinary skills far exceed mine. At one point I messed up mixing a sauce, and she grabbed a wooden spoon and patted my butt with it. "See, you're the one who gets spanked around here," she said.

I started reaching to get the spoon away from her, and she pulled away, laughing. "I'll deal with you after dinner," I said, to which she laughed some more.

A little later, as we started to eat, she raised her wine glass, and I clinked it with mine. "To you having the balls to do what you say," she said, before sipping her wine.

"What?" I said, startled by the strange toast. I sipped my wine and waited for her to say something.

"How do you like the ravioli?" she asked casually.

There was no further discussion of spanking that night. We had sex, which was fine but not particularly remarkable. Dalia had always seemed a bit quiet and inhibited in bed. I'd once asked her what her fantasies were, and she'd said, "We don't talk about that in Wyoming," which is where she's from.

I'd considered saying "We do talk about that in Rhode Island," where we now were, but I'd refrained. Tonight, she seemed to want to talk about something along those lines, but I didn't ask, and as we went to sleep, I suspected that she was a little disappointed.

The next morning, I awakened in her bed. Dalia was already awake, and I saw she had her phone in hand. She turned the screen away before I could see what was on it. I laughed and started reaching for it, and she giggled and cried out, "No!" After a moment, I'd gotten the phone from her hand, but the screensaver was now on.

"Open it," I ordered, holding the phone toward her.

"No," she said, trying to stop laughing.

"Open it, or I'll put you across my knee and spank you," I warned.

"Bullshit!" she said, rather loudly.

I simply snorted and went off to the bathroom to take a shower. I guess I just wasn't ready to put my money where my mouth was. I sensed disappointment from her again as I walked off. While showering, I silently told myself that I needed to show my girlfriend that I did, in fact, have "the balls to do what I say."

That night we went out to dinner with Gary and Rachel. Rachel had been Dalia's roommate at college. I'd met her and her boyfriend a couple of times. During the meal, Rachel looked at me, and said, "How's Dalia behaving?"

"What?" I asked.

"You heard me," Rachel said.

"Rachel," Dalia said with a slightly irritated tone.

"Quiet, you," Rachel said, looking at Dalia. And to my surprise, Dalia didn't say anything, just looked down at her plate with a slight blush.

Rachel turned to me again. "When we were in college, I had to maintain a certain amount of discipline, or this one"--she jutted her jaw a bit toward Dalia--"did not get things done, and was prone to acting out. We agreed I had to give her a reminder of her responsibilities now and then. That's all."

I glanced at Gary. He had a slight grin, as if he'd heard this before.

Rachel stared at me. "Just think about it, Richard," she said. "And don't be a wuss."

Hearing that, Gary chuckled.

There was an awkward silence. Dalia shyly picked at her food, but now had a slight smirk.

"Okay," I said, not knowing what else to say.

Later that night, Dalia and I arrived at my place. As we did, my phone buzzed. I looked and saw a text from Rachel, with no one else on the thread: "If you don't spank her ass, you're going to lose her."

There must've been a surprised look on my face, and Dalia said, "What's that?" I held the phone away so she couldn't see the screen.

"Show me," she demanded, starting to laugh. She grabbed my wrist, but I wrested my arm away from her. I put the phone on a table. Then I grabbed Dalia's upper arm and marched her over to the sofa.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked loudly, still giggling.

"Exactly what you need," I said.

I sat down on the sofa and pulled Dalia across my lap. She started squirming in resistance, her above-the-knee skirt rising to mid-thigh. I grabbed the hem and flipped it over her waist, revealing a pair of red panties.

"Bastard!" she yelled, but there was still mirth in her voice.

"You've had this coming," I said evenly, as I grabbed her wrist and held it on the small of her back.

I brought my other palm down on her panties with a smack. "Oh! Fuck you!" she called out.

"Your safeword is brat," I said. "Just admit you're a brat, and I stop."

"I didn't do anything!" she exclaimed. There was still laughter in her tone, but also now some petulance. "How dare you?"

"You've been daring me to do this for a week," I said, bringing my hand down for another spank. Then another, and another.

She squirmed and struggled, though it was quite clear she wasn't going anywhere. After a dozen or so spanks, I let go of her wrist, and then pulled her panties down to mid-thigh. "Bastard," she said, but not very emphatically. Dalia seemed to be getting reconciled to her situation.

I held her arm at her side now, and resumed the spanking, letting my hand do the talking as it came down on her bare butt. Her squirming now was more about pressing her pussy against my thigh. After a while, I stopped the spanking, let her arm go, and dipped two fingers into her moist pussy. Dalia moaned loudly, rocking across my lap.

I kept her in position for a little longer, running my fingers through her hair. "So is this what Rachel was talking about?" I asked.

Dalia smiled and looked over her shoulder at me. "She could be pretty strict," she murmured.

"Well," I said, "I might just have to give her and Gary a demo one of these days, to ensure them that things are in hand around here."

Dalia looked shocked and then laughed. "You wouldn't have the balls!" she exclaimed. But I suspected she now realized that wasn't true.

I patted her upturned butt gently before letting her get up and get her clothing in order. "I'll set up another double date soon," I said. Dalia just giggled.