Into Temptation

“Ah, there’s nothing better on a hot summer’s evening than eating a mandarin.”

“Except, possibly, eating Amanda out.”

“I’ll tell her you said that.”

“Do.”

We sat together on the veranda, you and I. It is one of those hot, sticky evenings that we knew so well back home but never expected to find in the Occident. You in a white business shirt, tie loosened but still around your neck, and grey smart trousers. Me in my new blue dress, taking away your breath.

“Where are your panties?”

“Around the tops of my thighs.”

“Show.”

I roll across to my right and flip up the hem of my dress, showing you a clear line of flesh above the cotton brief but below the waistband of my frock.

“As you asked me.”

“What did I ask you?”

“One word, NORWICH. Sent by text, with that little winking emoticon.”

You smile slightly.

“And what did you take that to mean?”

“Knickers off, ready when I come home.”

“So why do you still have your knickers on?”

“They’re lowered.”

“They’re on.”

I gulp.

“And that what you just said about Amanda, that was disgusting.”

“I’m sorry.”

And I am.

“Truly sorry.”

“Knickers off.”

I sigh.

I obey.

I take them down, and hand them to you.

You put them in your pocket.

“What’s your name?”

“Allison.”

“Try again.”

“Allison Louisa Carstens.”

“Try again.”

“What would you like my name to be, sir?”

“Your name is now Nicholas.”

“Why?”

“Because you are knicker-less.”

You mock me.

“Come across.”

I lay myself across your knees. This is difficult as the steps upon which we have been sitting, and you still are, are quite shallow, so your knees tip me into your abdomen. You adjust your feet and I almost fall off.

“Begin.”

“Begin wha…”

Ouch. Begin counting.

“One.”

Several more follow, each numbered off by me like statistics in a report of averages. At some point the skirt of my dress is folded back, I don’t even notice but realise only later. How long ago did you do that?

“Sixty-one. Sixty-two.”

They call you The Count because you love to count. I’ll never watch Sesame Street in the same way again.

“One hundred and nineteen.”

The longest psalm in the Bible. The longest spanking in living memory. Well, in my memory anyway.

“I’ll not have you mocking fruit in that disgusting manner. You disgust me.”

And I do. I disgust myself as well.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m aware of that.”

The spanking continues unabated as the sun sets across the Downs.