The white coat of a researcher, the demeanor of an office worker, the hair cut of a young hipster, that's how he stood there behind the cash register using the slow computer as an excuse for fumbling to produce a receipt for the organic turkey sandwich with date compote and pear slices with a sweet taro bun. The co-worker looked like he actually belonged peered over his shoulder at the computer display. The wooden cutting counter, big juicer machines, and commercial stainless steel sinks surrounded us.
A bit too close to the cash register sat the blond dentist from next doors eating her home brought lunch out of a plastic container. She is a bit scary, because behind her polished interior lurk eyes that are unpredictable. The waiting room to her office has original art from the artist on the wall. The wood panels and lighting are definitely designed by an interior architect. Her hair is short and well cared from by a hair dresser to look cute. She isn't cute, because her face looks too hard boiled and she steps with the confidence of a sergeant. Colleagues went to her services like flies, because they either fancied her or one of her hot assistants. She was obviously cognizant of that and in charge of it. Yet, she didn't take them up on it. She had no use for them. It is best to avoid her. If she greets, greet her friendly back, yet keep on walking.
She leaned forward: "Do you want to spank me?"
"Yes. Are you into pain?"
"Well, don't really hurt me!"
"Do you like the domination part that comes with it or strictly the daddy is spanking me fantasy?"
"Go for the good bit."
"Do you like to be man handled or have your hair pulled?"
"I am okay with that."
"We don't need a safe word. If you tell me to stop in any way, we stop. So, there won't be confusion either way, because you are going to shut the fuck up unless asked a direct question."
She was startled and looked with big eyes. She was grabbed by the back of her neck and pulled. Her chair fell down. The loud sound scattered whatever unbelief was left in the store. She was pulled across the aisle, to the bench, to lie across the lap. She garbled, squeaked, and choked in her throat at the same time.
"I like a lot of squirming. Squirm now."
She tried to get up. Her body got half vertical before a strong hand grabbed her hair at the back of the head and pushed her face down to the bench. The other arm wrapped around her hips pulled her down. Her feet moved with little concern to keep on the shoes. Her legs struggled hard spreading her skirt to whoever was lucky enough to stand at the right angle and be fast enough to glance the flash.
"You are doing well, that's how I like it, girl."
The hand came down on her ass above the smile for a little sensation. She squealed out regardless and raised her hands for protection out of impulse and being overwhelmed.
"Cross your arms behind your back. Keep them there."
A series spanks settled down on her butt. They were light and soft to be painless, yet shake all of her butt, send a vibration through her whole pelvis, and tease her privates with that. She calmed down into the sensation. Her breath blowing onto the bench surface that deflect her breath back into her face. She felt the thighs under her chest and belly. The hair was stimulated by being pulled that provided a nice tickle.
"On a scale from one to ten, ten being the most painful, how much would you rate this and how much would you be able to take now?"
"That's a two and I could go for a five."
The hand started pinching her butt all over. Each pinch moved the skirt across her skin as it twisted, reminding her that she was naked just under that thin fabric. Reminding her that a near stranger was touching her body. All day, we can live in our heads, because we stand at a distance from people. The other person might as well be a video conference on a really good 3D display. And, that might actually be a computer generated image. Yet, here she was being touched by a real human being.
The hand came down flat and hard to sting deeply. Her feet were flying up from the ground. Her whole weight surrendered onto his lap. She tried to put her feet down again. Yet, because of the angle, the knees were bended and she tippy toed around on her toes. The shoes had long disappeared and her naked feet were touching the bare concrete floor.
The hand kept coming down that flat and that hard and that sting in measured repetition with each slap being distinct in her mind. All the patients, dealings, and dilly dallying were gone from her mind. All she could see with her closed eyes was a soft red with a few other pleasant colors circling around. The vivid sensation on the surface of her skin. A roiling of waves in her whole butt like after images from all the shaking. Her pubic bone had that feeling of tension and horniness arousing her to drive deeper into this world.
"Keep breathing. Breath deeply."
The hand started slapping the naughty. The hand aimed in between her butt cleft. It hid her vulva from behind. She wiggled a bit on the lap. Then the hand came to rest right there, fat across her butt hole, perineum, and vulva. It just rested there. She heard herself breathing too timid to make a move to not disturb what would happen next, too timid to ask for what she would want to happen next.
"Afternoon snack break is over. You did really well, girl. Any time you need a little play, I'd be happy to."
"Sir, your receipt is ready."