Lucy Submits to a Spanking Pt. 02

Lucy Submits to a Spanking Pt. 2

This is best read as a sequel to 'Lucy Submits to a Spanking'.

Master Kane stood staring out of the window of his sixth floor -- Study? Emporium? Lair? - he was never quite sure what to call it. It was getting late on a Friday evening. Outside the streetlights glowed through the drizzly gloom. He was in reflective mood. Tristan and Isolde was playing on the record player atop his desk (yes, a record player, Master Kane was an old school traditionalist in many things). If the BBC were ever to broaden their horizons and invite a well-respected spanking disciplinarian onto Desert Island Discs, this would be his number one disc. The famous half diminished Tristan Chord, evading the expected, satisfying resolution. A perfect metaphor for so many aspects of life. Was the idea of him appearing on Desert Island Discs so ridiculous? After all, they had invited Mr Lovell, the eminent gynaecologist from the floor below on the other week, and he had slept with far more of his clients than Master Kane ever had.

Delayed gratification. Not fashionable these days, he rued, as he looked down at the crowds far below, released from work for the weekend -- assembling, socialising, drinking, flirting. From his perspective, the street looked like a sexual wild west. How many of the men and women down there appreciated what the great 19^th Century artists knew - that climax is most satisfying when there is proper tension in the build up?

Still, his wavering faith in the state of civilisation was perked by Sylvia's announcement that Lucy was returning for another session. His final appointment of the evening. He remembered Lucy especially from her first session a few weeks ago. Not that he ever forgot any of his clients. If a woman does you the inestimable service of presenting her bottom to you for a spanking you damn well pay her the respect of remembering the experience. That was Master Kane's decided view. But he had to admit he had a particular soft spot for Lucy, as far as softness could go within the cold heart of a professional spanker.

Lucy, perhaps because she was English, seemed to have an intrinsic understanding of rules-based discipline. He set great store by the way she pronounced "bottom" in a slightly embarrassed way with a rounded mouth, far sexier than the rasping sibilance of a hissed "ass". She went over his lap respectfully, embodying the secular sacrament of that position, rather than an eye rolling, bratty slump. Most importantly, unlike many clients who came to visit him, she definitely seemed to be into spanking.

As for Lucy, she had also reflected on the consequences of her first session. Initially, she felt so excruciated and shamed she vowed never again. But as time passed, she discovered, as Nietzsche claimed, that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. She noticed herself feeling more assertive and less anxious. After all, if you've survived exposure with your spanked and caned bottom on display, what fears can a demanding client meeting hold? She felt her sentences becoming crisper and clearer, less meandering. She had stopped biting her nails and noticed her cuticles improving. She felt sexier and more confident in her appearance. Discipline was good for her! Time to return to Master Kane.

She had finished in her office that evening, turning down an invitation for after work dinner with her colleagues, claiming she was going to see her great aunt. She travelled a few stops on the tube to Debenhams (site of her frustrated climax the last time) where she could change anonymously in to her new outfit. After being unsure about her attire for session one, she had a much clearer idea of how she wanted to look this time -- a simple black dress, layered at the skirt giving a hint of flamboyance, black tights (this was still the English winter after all), black ballet style shoes, lacy black knickers and matching bra underneath that fit her body perfectly with no loose fabric. Expensive underwear does make a different, she realised. The black ensemble made her feel sexy, not too tarty, and well put together. She could feel the lines of her underwear cutting in a tight 'v' by her groin, tantalising her in anticipation of what was to come.

She arrived outside Master Kane's building early and waited in a bar opposite, feeling like a glass of wine to relax after the working week, but she was restrained and drank sparkling water instead. She wanted to be fully alert in all her interactions with Master Kane. Nothing to dull her senses. She could feel the thrill of submission disciplining her in more ways than just the sexual.

Right on time, she crossed the street and pressed the buzzer for the sixth floor. Master Kane answered directly, which surprised her. Where was Sylvia? The building was quiet now as most of the accountants and consultants on the lower floors had left work. The lift was empty so there was no need for Lucy to hide her embarrassment before strangers about where she was going. She looked for the button for the sixth floor carefully and realised that the lift only did go as far as the fifth floor. Of course, she remembered, you have to take the stairs for the last part.

Lucy opened the door at the end of the fifth-floor corridor, biting her lip in anticipation as she opened up the twilight zone of the red walls adorned with the black and white photos of supplicant spankees. Now I know how they feel, she reflected as she walked up the stairs. There was no Sylvia at the desk, so she knocked straight on Master Kane's door.

"Come in."

Master Kane's (let's call it a room for now) looked softer, more mellow in the artificial evening light than Lucy remembered from her previous afternoon session. She took in the desk, the Mart Stam chair, the bench -- site of her arousal the last time, the corner - site of her humiliation last time. Despite these memories (or was it because of them?), Lucy had a sense of positive feng shui from the order of the room. It reassured her that Master Kane was someone she could trust to lead her journey into spanking.

Again, Lucy admired Master Kane's appearance. His dark hair framing his strong features. He was dressed simply in smart navy trousers and a slim fit light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He stood by his desk, inserting the Wagner record back into its sleeve. Lucy noticed his hands. They looked like pianist's hands, with a wide span and prominent tendons. The right hand which had been applied to her bare bottom a few weeks previously. Good hands for a spanker, she thought.

"Good evening sir," she said, smiling as she began to remove her coat.

"Stop right there and put your hands to your side." said Master Kane. "It is at my discretion when you do and do not remove clothing. Do you understand?" His voice was calm, but stern.

"Yes sir," Lucy's head bowed. Dammit, she thought, no mistakes this time.

"Come and sit on the sofa," said Master Kane, more softly. Lucy complied, and Master Kane joined her.

"So, Lucy," said Master Kane, "you have come back to receive a harder spanking."

"Yes sir," said Lucy, her bottom squirming slightly on the sofa, her stomach tightening. Requesting what she wanted by email was almost a vicarious thrill, but now she was faced with the immediate reality.

"It will sting, your bottom will be very red and sore, though I promise not to break the skin, and you may well feel sensations that you may not have felt before. Are you sure you want this?"

Lucy felt steeled with determination.

"Yes I do sir," she replied clearly.

"You remember your safeword?"

"Red sir," said Lucy,

"For the final time, you are sure you are ready for this?"

Lucy was sitting with her hands in her lap, she took a deep breath.

"I am sir."

Master Kane stood up from the sofa and walked slowly towards the door. "Listen very carefully and enact these instructions precisely. Remove only your coat, shoes and tights, nothing else, and place them on the desk. Then place yourself on all fours on the bench, with your head facing away from the door. Raise your dress to your waist, and lower your panties to your knees. You will adopt a position that makes your bottom feel exposed and taught. If you succeed in finding this position you will know from the feeling what I mean. You will focus all your attention on how your bottom feels in this position, and why you want to receive a spanking. In five minutes, I will come back into the room and I expect to find you holding this position. Five minutes does not sound long, but trust me, it will feel like an eternity if you do it properly. Do you understand me?"

"Y..Yes sir," Lucy's eyes widened. Again, Master Kane had surprised her.

Master Kane left the room, the door closed behind him with a neat click.

For the first time, Lucy was alone in the room. She tried to process what was happening. The idea of complying with these precise and humiliating orders in Master Kane's absence tightened the knot in her stomach. What would he do if she didn't comply? He hadn't specified. For a few seconds she remained on the sofa, not entirely sure how she would react. Then as if possessed by a mysterious force, she felt herself walking over towards the desk. She saw the sleeve of the Wagner next to the record player and frowned. She had seen part of the Ring Cycle as part of corporate hospitality with German clients. It wasn't her taste in music. How had someone described it? -- a perfumed fog shot through with lightning. She hesitated. Let go. She could feel the mysterious force possessing her to submit. She unbuttoned her coat, removed it and folded it on the desk. Then she removed her black shoes and put them neatly next to the coat. Feeling underneath her skirt she pulled down her tights, feeling them crackle slightly as they peeled off her legs. She folded them, and placed them on top of her coat. Never in her life had she been more aware of the sensation of undressing herself.

She was still wearing her black dress, layered around her thighs, and her knickers underneath, but she felt naked. She went over to the bench and climbed on in the direction Master Kane had commanded, placing her knees and hands on the surface feeling the sleek leather give beneath them. I'm like a cat, she thought. Then she lifted her dress up to her waist, pulled down her panties, and felt the air of the empty room against her bare bottom.

She remained like that for a few more moments. Her position didn't feel quite right. She adjusted her arms so the length of her forearms rested on the bench, and clasped her hands together. She lowered her head and arched her back slightly, raising her bottom. She jutted it out further which anchored the feeling that her rear end was by far the most conspicuous object in the room, as if a hundred people were gazing at it, even though she was alone. Yes, she thought, that's the position. I can feel it.

She held that position with her face a few inches above the black leather bench, restricting her vision. Her head jumped as the silence was broken by a muffled electronic ping, then she realised it was her phone, within her coat pocket on her desk. Master Kane was right, it did seem like an eternity. What would happen next? Would Master Kane return as promised? Would it be Sylvia, returning to witness her exquisitely vulnerable exposure? Lucy focused on her breathing as she worked to maintain the position. She could feel her heartbeat as she listened to the hum of the empty room and the distant noise of the street below, and waited...