Marie smiled, and hoped her heart did not sound as loud to Ali as it did to her.
“Well, I shall then,” she said, feeling, for reasons she did not quite understand, like the fox in a fairy story.
Marie leaned back on the sofa and crossed her legs, and was glad she had worn stockings. Ben preferred them, of course, but since she was on her own it had entered her mind not to bother. Ali sat by her feet and had gathered up the courage to gently stroke her ankle, fingertips rolling up and down her ankle, a timid touch, a preamble.
“I’m sorry about today.”
Marie shifted a little in her seat. “Ali, I like you so much, but you were awful. You really were. I don’t understand why you lose control like that. It’s as if you have everything going for you, but you just decide to throw it away.”
Ali sat still, her finger resting on the buckle of Marie’s high heeled shoe.
“All I wanted to do today was spank you, Ali, and that’s why I sent you away. I wanted to spank you and then I wanted to kiss you, both of which are not really things I should do at work.” She smiled weakly, her heart pounding.
“I wish you would.”
She swallowed dryness and surged on. “The thing is, I am in love, and you know Ben. He is quite,” her eyes searched the ceiling for a word, “assertive, and there is nothing I don’t share with him, nothing at all.” She let the moment rest. Somewhere the house creaked, as though approving her confession.
Ali nodded slowly, looking only at the shoe before her. “I like Ben. I like him a lot. He spoke with me at the Christmas party, and lots of us have crushes on him. I do, I guess. He’s a bit scary though. Except I think I like that.” The final part was a whisper too quiet to be heard unless by ears that wished to hear it. “But you,” she continued, “You can be scary too. When you are like you are at work I feel better about myself. I feel safe. Well, not today. I felt crappy about today, and I still do.”
She looked up at Marie.
Marie leaned down and they kissed. ‘Her lips are so soft,’ Marie thought, ‘her whole self is open to me, and she is waiting for me to act. I want to be the girl who acts. I can be that girl with her.’
Ali wore a softer expression now than Marie was used to seeing. She looked expectant, hopeful, shy. She looked, Marie realised, like a girl who hoped to be taken somewhere and did not quite know where.
Everything was as new for Marie as it was for Ali. She was so used to Ben’s hard body, the trim, businesslike shape of a male, his hands that held her, and his lips that were unrelenting and demanding. But Ali’s lips parted and welcomed her while they kissed. They responded to her desire, trembled, and followed Marie’s every lead. The girls stood, and Marie felt Ali yield, felt the way Ali waited for her, arms hanging at her sides. Marie reached up and tilted Ali’s head, surprised and empowered by her ability to manoeuvre another human being. She stepped forward and pushed Ali back against the wall, her kisses becoming more urgent and demanding.
Ali made a little noise almost of distress, but Marie knew it was not. It was the sound of wanting that is not quite ready, the sound of desire that wants to be forced to wait, to hold on to itself. Marie had made that sound a thousand times, and she knew this was the time to explore where she could take this pretty, hopeful girl and her desire that was not yet desire.
It was intoxicating. Marie felt like she had been given the keys to the castle while the lord was away. For once, it was all about what she wanted, and what she decided. Ali’s breasts rose and fell sharply, and Marie knew how strong her need had grown. She slipped a hand into Ali’s dress and reached for a hard nipple, and with one thumb she encircled the tip, kissing Ali gently until she could feel Ali almost break with wanting.
But still Ali needed to feel the desire more than the release.
Marie knew what she herself wanted, and she knew she could have it. For once, everything would be just as she determined. She did not have to guess or hope, she could instruct and create. She looked into Ali’s expectant eyes, and saw them sadden as she pulled away.
Marie walked to the centre of the room, her heels announcing themselves on the wooden floor.
“Come here,” she commanded.
To her amazement, Ali did. She walked carefully, taking each step as if a thousand men looked on. But it was only Marie in front of the girl, waiting in barely hidden amazement to receive her.
Ali stood just where Marie had chosen. Her shoulders were square but her eyes were down, and a gentle blush spread across her cheeks, like a doll, or a design in a computer model. Marie knew what she wanted.
“Turn around.” Marie watched the confusion in Ali’s eyes as she obeyed. Her feet shuffled as she turned; she was clearly unsure and so wanted to show unwillingness, and both girls were taken aback by her compliance.
Marie smiled at the girl’s back, and reached up and unzipped Ali’s dress. Goose bumps formed on Ali’s shoulders. She was glorious in black satin and stockings, and Marie stared, ran her fingers down Ali’s back, watching carefully as Ali shivered at her touch. The sight of the girl’s underwear brought a powerful throbbing of desire through Marie. Ali had wanted this all along. She dressed for the evening with the desire to be unwrapped.
‘I can do anything,’ Marie thought, ‘and this is how it feels.’ She almost laughed with delight.
“I want you to learn to do as I say,” she whispered, her red lips almost touching Ali’s tiny ear. “I want you to learn how to mind me, before we move on to other things. I think you would love to spend time with Ben, wouldn’t you? Aren’t you curious about what it’s like with him? About how it feels with him?”
Ali used every ounce of her concentration to keep herself upright, to maintain an illusion of control.
Without saying a word Marie abandoned Ali, sat on the sofa, and watched the young woman. Could it be that Ali would stay there until she told her to move? Was that possible? What would she do if Ali moved? She suddenly wished Ben were there, just for a moment, until she saw Ali’s hand reach around to cover her bottom. She felt self-conscious, and Marie knew the feeling well. She also knew what Ben would say
“Stay still.” Her voice sounded authoritative to both of them. Ali stopped. Marie could have clapped but knew that would spoil the picture.
Marie’s heart beat so hard that she could see her dress bounce against her chest. Could she do this? Did she have the nerve? She wanted to. She wanted to know how it felt.
“Ali, come and stand by me. Just here, to my right.” She pointed. Ali’s face was the image of regret and anticipation, presented to Marie as Ali fought to obey. With tiny geisha steps Ali crossed the room. It was only a short distance, but submission always feels farther than it is.
“Over my lap please.” Oh bugger. Should she have said “please”? She tried to remember if Ben ever said please. She pondered this as Ali slowly leant forward over her lap. Willing her hands to stop shaking, Marie stroked Ali’s knickers as they stretched over round curves. The dark, smooth material stretched under her hand as the moved it down the centre of Ali’s bum. It was a subtle move but Marie knew just what Ali felt. She knew how much Ali wanted her to act; she was walking the bridge between fear and anticipation. They both were. Very slowly, with care not to let Ali feel her shake, Marie lowered Ali’s knickers. Her bum was beautiful. Marie cupped her hand over it. It was round, pert, and perfect. It was so pale that all Marie wanted in the world was to bring colour to it.
“I know how you feel about today, and this is for that feeling, for both of us, because we both know you earned it.”
She raised her hand and brought it down sharply. Ali made a little cry, but it was only surprise, and Marie wanted to hear more than that. Cupping her hand she set to work, and for several minutes she peppered Ali’s little bum with spanks. It turned light pink, and Ali moved a little, a tiny squirm, but it was not enough. Marie knew what she felt. It was embarrassment, but more than that it was impatience. Marie tried harder and used more force; she spanked as hard as she could, up and over the waiting globes. She wanted more. She wanted to do more. She wanted to hear a peal of distress. She listened. She heard a little sound but she recognised it for encouragement. She did not want encouragement, she wanted Ali to wonder why she had asked for such a thing, she wanted Ali to mind her, to feel an edge of regret for what she had got into.
Marie stopped and thought. ‘What would hurt? What will make her put her hands back and try to make me stop?’
She reached down into her bag and found a small paddle hairbrush. She knew this hurt, because she had felt its impact countless times.
Ali called out at the first slap, but Marie ignored her and went for all she was worth. From the top of Ali’s thighs she worked up and down the bottom. The colours that blossomed fascinated her as, over and over, she covered the bottom in quick, hard pops. She felt the most powerful thrill, and it was all her choice. She did not ever wanted to stop, but did all that she wanted to; she remembered the sit spot; she remembered how much it hurt when the same spot was focused on; she remembered how it felt not to be able to predict pace or position. Everything she had learned on the receiving end, she used in that spanking.
And then she heard it. She heard Ali struggling, really struggling to accept what was being done to her. Marie did not stop. She wanted more, and she took everything she wanted.
‘I am not the girl I normally am,’ she thought. ‘I am the girl in charge now. I can do anything.’
At last, exhausted, she quit. Her breath came quick, and she felt invigorated. She looked at the bottom before her, a little horrified at its condition.
But then she remembered. She was in charge now. She could do what she liked. There was no need to be horrified; it was not her bottom.
“Stand in the corner. No rubbing.”
And she watched, enthralled, as Ali stiffly and slowly stood, and hobbled to the corner by the window.
Marie shook her head in disbelief, then sat half an hour and watched and wondered at what she had done.
Then she stood and walked over to the girl in the corner, the girl who was not her, and whispered into her ear.
“In one week’s time you will come to our house. It is my Ben’s birthday. You will come dressed as you were tonight, and you will do what you are told when you arrive. Do you understand?”
Her voice was gentle, like honey in warm summer woods. Ali nodded.
“Good girl.”
Marie kissed her shoulder gently, took her bag, and left.
When she had gone Ali walked stiffly to her room. She stood for several minutes staring in the mirror at her bruised and swollen bottom. She stroked it with her head to one side, a gentle hand where before there had been only pain.
‘Is this how it is?’ she wondered. ‘Is this how it is to be punished?’ She sighed. ‘I thought there would be more.’ But more of what she could not, or would not, think.
Marie finished telling her side of the story to Ben, not once daring to turn around and look at him, like a successful Orpheus.
“I am beginning to understand now,” said Ben, bringing Marie back to the present. “It would have been a good idea to talk to me about this in advance, don’t you think?”
“I know,” she said to the rug, “that this is a bit unusual. but you’ve been in charge of me for years, and I have been spanked so often and in so many ways that I wanted to know how it felt. I wanted to show you. I wanted,” she struggled with the final bit of truth, “I wanted to kiss her, like you kiss me. I wanted to share that with you.”
She paused, and the silence rang in her ears.
“Did I screw up?” she asked at last.
The room was heavy with waiting. All the power she had felt while she recounted the story dissipated and flew like a butterfly to Ben’s finger while she waited for his verdict.
“I can’t believe that you did all of this without asking me, and more importantly, without really thinking through the effect it would have on Ali.”
His displeasure made her sit up and search for a way to make it better.
“But I did, we talked about it, I just didn’t tell you everything because I didn’t want you to know about the surprise. It’s supposed to be a happy thing. Ali has always liked you, ever since she met you at the Christmas party three years ago. She thinks you’re gorgeous, and she told me. I do too.
Two women who think you’re gorgeous, what’s not to love about that?”
Marie finished with a smile, and Ben tapped the edge of the chair with his fingers.
“Okay,” he said.
“Okay? Really? So it’s all good?”
“Oh.” He looked down at the brown hair girl, still under his hand, “No, not yet. I wasn’t really talking to you. Get your hairbrush and come back here.”
She started to speak.
“Now.”
Flustered at his curt interruption, she dashed off to do as instructed. Her skirt flew up as she ran, and he smiled a little at the flash of stockings and black silk knickers.
Marie returned with hairbrush and excuses in hand. “Ben, I spent ages getting ready. I tried really hard to do whatever I … oh.”
He sat just pointing at his lap. They watched each other for a moment and Marie lost. She folded herself over his thighs without a word, and lifted up her bum so he could pull her knickers down.
“Jesus!” she called out as he unleashed the hairbrush with force over her pale cheeks, “Ben!” She tried desperately to get away but his arm clamped her tightly. “You haven’t warmed me up and it really hurts!”
He responded with a totally unfazed and unaltered assault on her bum. She tried to crawl away using the edge of the sofa for purchase but he held her still with his non-spanking arm and went to work with tenacity over all her bottom and thighs.
She heard it stop before she felt it. Her bottom burned and Marie groaned with relief, then realised Ben was speaking to her and resolved to listen to him dutifully.
“Right, listen very carefully to this, Marie. You don’t know what you are doing, do you? I know you. You feel all of this, you don’t think it. You have taken this girl somewhere. Why? What did you want? What did you think about her and how she felt? And did you think about who is in charge of all this? Did you?” He punctuated each syllable of the last two questions with a hard swat of the brush that made her cry out each time.
The doorbell rang. He paused, the brush in mid-air, and she waited, eyes squeezed tight shut for a number of reasons, none of them that she dared consider.
Lovely, breathtaking Poppy! Thank you!
uh oh.
As always, you write some beautiful sentences and understand things usually unspoken, like “It was only a short distance, but submission always feels farther than it is.” The heart of your writing lies in the truths you tell.
And I liked Ben’s concern for the place that Ali has been brought to.
Poppy, good evening.
and warm 
This is lovely, I really like the way that Marie explores herself and Ali at the same time.
But she doesn’t have a map, as Ben points out, which is why she is where she is.
Great stuff, dear girl.
Paul.
Poppy’s internet access is burning and crumbling as fast as inner city London at the moment, I’m afraid, but I know she will love these comments when she finally sees them.
I was delighted to read and edit this piece, written all in her current wildwood setting, but obviously consisting of matters to which she has given a great deal of thought.
Well done, little girl. Your fans adore this, as I do.
Wow!
When Arianna does pictures she really does pictures, huh?
Isn’t she amazing?
I have been out walking all day which is why I have not commented all day.
Thank you Kundalini, Paul, Scarlet and , of course, Dev.
Tomorrow is part three – the final part.
I really wanted to explore how I felt about F/F spanking. I should have said that before – sorry, my brain is a bit shrunken, I think the bears took it.
Poppy, good morning.
and warm 
I love the pictures, they compliment your words beautifully, they don’t improve them.
Paul.
Congrats, Poppy. This story (both parts 1 and 2) got Chrossed.
Looking forward to Part 3.