From the Top Shelf - When the Master Speaks II

This is taken from When the Master Speaks by Josephine Scott.

"In here Mr Williams," Lauren led the way into her flat, unnecessarily showing the caretaker where the bathroom was. She blushed and apologised. "I tend to forget you know this place better than me."

"Don't worry about it, Miss Lauren, you're being polite, more than I can say about some young women." He lifted the cistern lid and leaned over it, poking and prodding at the rusting mechanism inside. "Yes, needs a washer and perhaps a new arm on there, see what I've got downstairs." He stood up, eased his back and looked at her.

"Like I said, you're one of the polite ones. Some of them girls want their arses tanned, that they do! Excuse my French. Good leathering with a belt would do them a lot of good, and by God I'd give it to them if I could! Now you, Miss Lauren - " he made his way to the hall and put a hand on the door lock - "you act as if you've had that good tanning. Won't be long." He walked out, leaving Lauren a little shaky, and a little embarrassed, as if he had walked in and discovered her with a vibrator.

She went back to her lounge and sat down in the comfortable armchair, leaving the front door on the latch for Mr Williams to come back up and fix her overflowing cistern...

"Hi, Lauren?" Jude appeared in the doorway, smiling but looking puzzled, holding a dripping umbrella in one hand and something wrapped in paper in the other. "Did you expect me? Only the door was open."

"No, I didn't." Lauren got up and went over to give Jude a kiss and took the umbrella to put in the sink. "I'm waiting for Mr Williams, he's fixing the cistern for me." She hurried to the kitchen.

When she came back Jude handed her an African violet in bloom in a ceramic pot.

"I thought you'd like this."

"Oh, I do, it's lovely, thank you!" Lauren put it on the end of her cabinet, moved a clown ornament and stood that on the mantlepiece. Jude watched her...

"Here we are - hello Mr Brooks, good to see you again. Just got a small job to do here for Miss Lauren."

"So I see, keeping you busy already, Mr Williams."

"Not Miss Lauren, no, she don't ask for a thing, right polite sort of person she is."

"I should hope so! I keep her in line, you know, Mr Williams, give her a good hiding now and then."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you did either, Mr Brooks." It was said with a laugh and a look that said 'don't tell me such stories'. "Funny that, we was talking afore you came about girls what needed their arses tanned, excuse my French, I was saying to Miss Lauren here how she acted like she had it done to her! Won't be long, just get this done and then we'll get the water back on..."

...Lauren went back to the kitchen, glad she had been able to escape the embarrassing conversation. It hadn't been embarrassing, just awkward, just touching too many nerves in her body...

Later, when the caretaker had left, Jude held out his arm.

"Come, it's a long time since I did what I'm longing to do, give you a long, slow hand spanking."

The talk of people being punished with a belt had stirred Lauren's senses, and even though she had pushed the thought down, it had remained like a burr in her mind. Knowing that Jude was there for more than a flying visit had added to her feelings, she had known something was coming, known that the evening would end in a session of some kind or another...

It was difficult to repress the sensation of being ridiculous, lying across someone's knees, feeling large and awkward, feeling slightly ludicrous, but then the spanking started. From the first slap, hard and firm on a soft cheek, Lauren knew it was to be a long session, and resettled herself, hands on the floor, toes on the floor, eyes closed, feeling the emotions surge through her, pain/pleasure so deeply linked there was no telling them apart, no parting them.

Harder now, firmly covering all her skin, the slaps overlaying, the pain deepening... Outside the rain fell steadily, hissing against the windows, complementing, a background to the incessant slaps raining down on her exposed cheeks, no doubt flame red now under Jude's ministrations, sending more and more quiver of excitement and interest through her.

"OK, up you get," Lauren stood, clutching both cheeks as she always did, knowing no amount of massage would ease the pain, not wanting it to, wanting it to last.

Outside the rain fell, washing away the litter and dirt, chilling the air, sending everyone scurrying home for safety and warmth.

Lauren, safe and warm, considered herself the luckiest person in London.