The Sting

She got down on her knees and knelt forward as if to pray, arms stretched out before her, forehead resting on the dark leather bench.

Her tension was deserved. She knew what was coming but had never felt it before.

Don't worry, little one, he thought. It'll be every bit as painful and pleasant as you dreamed.

He flipped her prophetic red and black tartan skirt onto her back, then ran his hand slowly over her panties. Her body tensed more still.

Not yet.

With both hands he pulled her knickers down below her stay-up hosiery, exposing her pale derrière and the labia-line of her cunt. He gently tapped the former.

"I'm going to spank you now," he said.

"Yes, daddy," she replied dutifully.

He struck her then.

Her yelp belied the sting.