Standing here, two days before Christmas, snow on the ground, snow on the car as I lean over it, woolen coat up over my head, I shiver, but the cold doesn’t last. Leather gloves, large, smack my silk-clad bottom, the sound filling the still December night. It stings, but doesn’t really hurt.
Leather slaps my flesh again, through the scant material, warming me, defending me against the chill. I suck in my breath and taste snow. Flurries dance beneath a streetlamp three cars down. Lights flash in windows of houses up and down the street and I jump as you flick open the garters that hold up my stockings, tiny bits of plastic snapping against my skin. The nylons begin to slip down from my thighs.
“Don’t move,” you whisper, before I can reach for them.
I obey you. It’s all I want to do. I lean my elbows on the car and brush my gloved fingers through the snow. I obey you, and I sigh. Your hands grasp my panties and slide them, slowly, over my hips, my rear. Oh, God. Why do I allow it? Just yards from where we stand, behind one of these wreathed doors, people we know are laughing and drinking eggnog and maybe even wondering why we left so early. What if someone sees? I am still and I sigh again.
I’ve always hated these kinds of affairs. Everyone dressed to impress people they hardly know, kisses brushed onto cold cheeks, hugs that never quite make the cut. I do it well, though. I can talk politics or theater or bestsellers with anyone I meet. I’m the epitome of self-possession.
That makes me smile. You lift my right foot, then my left, then stuff my silk panties into your coat pocket. I quiver, incoherent sounds coming from my slightly parted lips, as a leather glove slips between my bottom cheeks, moving slowly and gently along that sensitive place.
“Nicky…” I murmur.
“Ssh.”
You lean over me, your mouth at my neck, my ear, your tweed coat rough against my exposed bottom. I feel your weight on me, your long limbs wrapping around me, I’m inside you. Tears come to my eyes. I try to turn my head. I need to see your dark eyes.
“Just feel me, Kate,” you command. “Just know I’m here.”
My first tears spill and you haven’t even spanked me, really. How do you do that? Why is it that you, only you, can do that to me?
The epitome of self-possession. Yes. Someone actually said that to me once. I laughed it off. Complimented his tie. Wondered why no one could see. And no one could see. Till you. That little girl inside, screaming to be heard above the clink of ice cubes and soft jazz, screaming, “Want me! Want me!”
Yet, I wouldn’t have believed it if anyone said they did.
You stand me up and turn me to face you. I want to taste you, to press my lips and open my mouth over all of you, from the dark hair that frames your face and rests on your collar, right down to your feet, and back up again. You smile slightly. Your hands still hold my skirt and coat up to my waist in the back and now you tell me to take hold of the clothes. I do as you say and you step back and run your eyes over me, your look suddenly distant. I hate your distance. I want to be everything to you. Suddenly, I feel foolish, standing in the snow, the backs of my legs and my bottom exposed, my stockings down around my ankles.
You open the car door and lead me inside, saying, “Keep your skirt and coat up. I want your bare bottom on that seat.”
My eyes make contact with yours as I slip into the car seat. I yelp as the cold leather touches me and I almost jump out of the car again.
“It’s cold!”
You grin, your eyes full of the devil. You lean in and kiss my lips hard, parting them, your tongue taking possession of my mouth, stealing my breath away. Yours. It’s all I want to be. You’re grinning again as you pull away from me.
You’re the real brat, you know.
I remember the earlier drive, to the party, just after nightfall. You had warmed the car up before I got in and it was nice and toasty. Still, my heart had begun to pound when you had told me to take off my coat. I’d been out of sorts all day. Holidays always do that to me. You had me unhook my bra as we pulled out of the driveway and turned down the street. All day I wanted to snap at someone, but I’d kept it in check. I’d been ready to take it all out on you…but your command surprised me. This was something new.
We were on the avenue when you reached over and began to caress my breasts. But when your hand slipped inside my dress and bra and lifted my left breast from behind its cover of satin and silk, my face burned. I turned my wide eyes to the street, to cars beside, behind, and before us. Your thumb and forefinger pinched my nipple and pulled at it.
You asked, “So, how was work today?”
What a question!
And I…I answered it!
My heart raced, my eyes still darted about, expecting everyone on the road to be watching you excite my exposed nipple. But I answered your question, all of your questions, about work and lunch and that inane phone conversation with my mother. You spoke so casually as you lifted my other breast free and began to rub and pinch that nipple as well. We were only halfway here when you returned both hands to the steering wheel. I reached to cover myself up again but stopped at the sound of your voice.
“Leave it,” you said.
Why? I wanted to scream.
But the fight was gone from me. I was aware of my exposed breasts and my hard nipples…of your fingers drumming the steering wheel in time to that old Phil Collins song…my face still hot and surely red…what was I planning to fight with you about tonight…I don’t remember now…Phil sings, “You can wipe off that grin, I know where you’ve been, it’s all been a pack of lies”…that line always reminded me of someone I knew once…till tonight…now it will always remind me of this…and, oh, God, that drum solo, oh…oh…oh, feel that…
But now you climb in beside me and we head for home. You’re quiet and I want to touch you, to ask you, “Are you pleased with me?” And that little girl screams again, “Want me!” It’s rich, isn’t it?
You take my hand and raise it to your lips.
“Be still, love,” you say. “We’ll be home soon.”
You rest my hand on your thigh and ask, “Are you sleepy?”
“No, I’m…”
What? I’m pathetic, needing you so badly. I’m really a very strong woman, I want to tell you. It’s only you…you!
“You make me want you in everything you do and say,” I say aloud. “You’re like a drug.”
You’re silent and I wish I could take back my words. We arrive at your place. I feel so out of control tonight. My emotions have gathered themselves to form this awful monster that threatens to rip me to shreds. You open my car door and hold out your hand.
I start to move, then stop, and ask, “Can I cover up my bum?”
“For the moment,” you say.
Inside, I wait. I want your direction badly tonight. I don’t know what you will do, but I know I can count on you. Your brown eyes ask what they can do for me as I take off my coat. My dress. My bra and garter belt. I remove my stockings and shoes and stand before you naked. You’re still wearing your coat and holding your keys. I come to you and your arms close around me.
You tell me, “You were such a good girl tonight. I was so proud of you.”
I melt against you and sigh.
“Of course, I’m still going to spank you,” you say.
Of course. I snuggle even closer to you.
“Twice,” you add.
“Twice?”
Once would be quite enough, thank you.
You loosen yourself from my embrace and remove your coat. You take my hand and lead me to the sofa, where you have me bend over the soft arm until my feet just leave the floor. I hate it when my feet don’t touch the floor. They never touch the floor when I’m over your knees either. But this is worse, because you can stand there and watch me. To my surprise and dread, you remove your belt. I want to feel your hand. I tense.
“Don’t clench, Kate,” you say.
“I can’t help it,” I whisper.
“Yes, you can. This isn’t the first time we’ve had this discussion. You can help it. Do as I tell you.”
I use all of my will to relax my buttocks. Without warning, your belt cracks against both cheeks six times quickly. I don’t even have time to breathe between slaps. You pause. My ass is on fire. I gasp for breath.
“God!” I hiss.
“No, not God,” you say. “Me. If you call to anyone, you call to me.”
The belt falls again, once, against the underside of my bottom, lifting it. I moan.
“You get your mind off of everyone except me.”
Another crack of the belt and I squirm against the sofa.
“You’ve had your mind on everyone and everything but me tonight.”
“That’s not true!” I scream as the belt lashes me again. “Nicky!”
“No? Then, where has your mind been?”
Crack!
“Nicky, I love you!”
Crack!
“And, do I love you, Kate?”
Crack! Crack!
“Yes!”
You stop and help me to stand up straight, to face you. My face is wet with tears. I want to fall against you, but your eyes command me to be still.
You brush the hair back from my face and say, “Do you know how much I admire you, Kate? So strong…so brave. You know that, don’t you?”
My heart screams…ah, Nicolas…you fill me up…
“Yes,” I answer.
“Then why listen to old voices that tell you otherwise? Irrelevant voices?”
I shake my head and say, “Loud voices…persistent voices.”
“Fuck them. Mine is the voice you listen to now, Kate.”
You sit and I come to you.
“We’re not done, are we?” I ask.
Your lips curve up at one side as you look at me from beneath the veil of your long dark lashes. I know what you want. I want it too.
I say, “I need you to spank me again, Nicolas, please. I need you to spank me until I can’t sit down. Till I’m sobbing on your lap and can’t even think straight. Please, Nicolas?”
You shut your eyes briefly, then open them and lift your head to look directly at me. Without hesitation, I place myself over your lap and offer my bottom for your punishment. You don’t keep me waiting. Your hand smacks all those places already reddened by the belt. Your hand…
…earlier, at the party, I chatted with a colleague of yours while my eyes searched for you. You came up behind me and handed me a drink, then placed your large hand over my smaller one and my whole body relaxed. I love your hands.
I’m crying in earnest now as you slap my bottom without cessation. You bring me back to the moment, cement my mind to my body. I’m alive in the pain you bring to me.
“Nicky!”
Thoughts fading in and out…
“My love…”
…this is why I allow it. I crave it. You know me…and I know you. You need this too. I love you. I love giving this to you…