“Yes, please.”
“Strictly speaking, that’s ‘yes, please, sir,’ but we’ll skip the niceties for now. All you need to do is lean across the bench and make yourself comfortable.”
“Right. Okay. Sir?”
“You’re a fast learner, Charity. I’m impressed. So, would you like to keep your knickers on for this?”
“Yes, I would really. If that’s okay, sir.”
“It’s fine. You know the house safe words I expect?”
“Yes. Red to stop, amber to go slower, green for all’s well.”
“That’s right, but this is your first time so we’ll start low key, and I’ll just continue until you ask me to stop. You just tell me when you’ve had enough.”
The spanking is glorious. He uses a paddle, I think. He starts soft, and increases the intensity after about six slaps. By the ninth swat I’m letting out small cries of pain, but I don’t want this to end quite yet.
“You okay, Charity?” David pauses, waits for my response.
“Yes, sir. Green.”
“Good girl. Let me know when that changes.”
I count twelve strokes, then I know I’ve reached my limit. For now.
“Sir, would you stop now, please?”
The spanking ceases, and David helps me to stand upright again. I let my short skirt drop back down to more or less cover my smarting bum.
“Thank you, sir. That was… very nice.”
“It was my absolute pleasure, Charity. We must do it again some time.”
“I’d like that.” And it’s true. I would.
* * *
I’ve become a regular at the club and I see David there fairly often. We’ve played together a few times since then, nothing especially heavy, and no sex. Which is a pity, and somewhat difficult to explain even to myself given the urges that brought me here. But I don’t really fancy him and he’s not pushing me to do more, so I don’t supposeit’s going to happen.
I don’t visit the club for several weeks whilst Ewan is at home again. Instead we drift back into our familiar routine of eating together, watching television, occasional shopping trips. Our friendship has solidified, and as the anniversary of Ed and Caroline’s death draws near, we seem to edge closer together. On the actual day, by unspoken but common consent we return to that spot on the road where the bike crashed. Ewan drives, as he did that day. We park and just sit there, together, each of us remembering.
I cry a bit, but it’s not the wracking, soul-deep shock and grief I felt at first. Now it’s more a genuine sorrow for lives wasted, for two young people who would be forever caught fast in that awful moment, whilst the rest of their world moves on without them.
Ed is a memory. Caroline too. Ewan is real, here and now. He has a future, as do I.
We drive back to Oakworth in near silence, each of us lost in our thoughts. As we pull up in Ewan’s driveway, I turn to him.
“Ask me again.”
“Ask you what?”
“Ask me again if I want you to fuck me. Please.”
He lifts one eyebrow. “Do you want me to fuck you, Faith?”
I tilt my chin up. “Yes.”
“Yes, but…?”
