There was no denying it, Naomi had screwed up. Big time. Worse than that, she had been caught. That was really the issue. Her girlfriend Sandra had been waiting for her as she had opened the door to their shared flat, arms crossed over her chest, eyes blazing with anger.
“Well, well,” Sandra had said, “Look what the cat brought in…”
“We’re not allowed pets in here, you know that…” Naomi said, trying to deflect with humour as she usually did. It didn’t go well, and Sandra’s glare only intensified.
“Care to explain where you’ve been?” her girlfriend said, icily.
“Just a little walk…” Naomi replied, eyes looking everywhere but at Sandra.
“At two in the morning?” Sandra asked.
“Well… Hum…”
“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” Sandra continued, not bothering to wait for the lie that was sure to come.
“I thought…”
“Yes?”
“I thought you’d still be asleep…”
“Oh, so that makes it all right, then, yeah?”
“I just don’t want to fight…”
“So maybe, just maybe you should stop lying to me?!” Sandra hissed, trying not to outright yell. As sweet as their elderly neighbours where, she doubted they would take kindly to being woken up in the middle of the night by a shouting match.
“I’m sorry…” Naomi said, her cheeks blushing. Shit. She really was sorry, but she knew that it didn’t look that way at all. She hated disappointing Sandra, but she always had had a defiant streak in her.
Sandra extended a hand, palm up. “Give it to me,” she said, and her tone brooked no argument. A pause.
“G-give you what?” Naomi said, innocently.
Sandra flicked her fingers. “Don’t make me ask again, Naomi Jane Harper…”
Oh god, the middle-name. Now she felt like she was twelve, being scolded by her parents for yet another bad school report. She sighed.
“Please…” she said, “Just this once…”
“You made a promise, Naomi,” Sandra said, “Hand. It. Over.”
Another sigh, more blushing. Naomi finally reached into her bag and slowly took out a pack of smokes. She held it up for a second, then reluctantly placed it in her very cute, but very irate girlfriend’s hand. Sandra curled her lip.
“Well that explains the 10 quid I’m missing from my wallet, doesn’t it…” she said, dismissively.
“Sandy, love…”
“You don’t get to ‘Sandy-love’ me right now, missy.”
“I just…” Naomi started.
Sandra cut her off; “You just broke your promise, and stole some money from me too…”
“I didn’t smoke any!” Naomi protested. “I promised I wouldn’t smoke anymore, and I didn’t!”
“So you bought them just to look at the packet?”
There was little to defend, here, really. Naomi knew she was being stubborn, but in for a penny, in for a pound, she might be able to salvage this. Surely…
“Well, no, but… I could have smoked one on the way back and…” she tried to explain, stumbling over her words a little.
“And why didn’t you?” Sandra asked, an eyebrow raised.
“I…”
All right, she hadn’t thought this one ahead, had she…
“Yes?”
“I didn’t have a lighter,” Naomi confessed, defeated.
Sandra rolled her eyes. “Perfect. Just perfect…”
“Sandy, please…”
“Please what?”
“Don’t be angry…”
“Oh, all right then. What should I be?” Sandra asked, not as quiet as before.
“Well… Hum…”
“Tell me how I should feel, Naomi?” Sandra asked again.
Without waiting for an answer, she went to the kitchen bin and slammed the packet of cigarettes down into it. She had her back to Naomi now, and had Naomi looked at her, her anger would still have been plain to see in the tension of her posture, the slight trembling of her arms, the shallowness of her breathing. Naomi would have also thought that she was beautiful in her anger and would have wanted nothing but to hold her tight and tell her how sorry she was, how stupid she felt. She would have begged for another chance and promised to do better.
But Naomi saw nothing, and said nothing, her eyes fixed on the floor. Pride, defiance. She couldn’t help herself.
“Disappointed? Hurt?” Sandra pressed, loud and angry now, “How should I feel?”
“I don’t know…” was all that Naomi could say.
“Right, well, I am all of these things” Sandra said, turning around. “Come here.”
“Wh-what for?” Naomi hesitated.
“You made a promise, yes?”
“Yes… I’m not deny—”
“And you broke it, yes?”
“Well…”
“Yes or no?”
“… Yes… I broke it…”
“Right. So, I think it’s fair that you should be punished.”
“P-punished?” Naomi said, wide-eyed, “Wh-what do you mean?”
Sandra pulled a chair from under the kitchen table and sat down. With a finger, she pointed to her lap. “Come here,” she said.
“You… You want me to sit on your lap?” Naomi asked, confused. Sandra rolled her eyes.
“No, Naomi Jane, I’m telling to come over my lap. Because I’m going to spank you, and you’re going to be sorry.” She said the last words with what sounded like absolute certainty.
Fear. Panic. An explosion of warmth between her legs? Naomi didn’t know what to say, what to do. She had never seen Sandra like that. So… Assertive. Angry, yes, but that only made her more beautiful. Now she saw it.
A split second later, Sandra clapped her hands. “I’m waiting, young lady,” she said, “And my patience is running dry.”
Had she just called her young lady? She took one step. Was she really going to spank her? Another step. Wh-why did she feel like she wanted this? No… She… She deserved it, didn’t she? But a spanking? Surely, that was ridiculous, she wouldn’t…
And then, she realised that she already was over Sandra’s lap, and her skirt was already being lifted and— oh no.
“Wait!” she said, but the first slap was already falling, and when it connected, her mind went blank. It hurt! Well of course it hurt, but it hurt hurt! And more slaps were already raining down on her barely covered cheeks. Curse these lace panties, and these stupid cigarettes and her stupid promise and—
Sandra’s hand fell harder.
And harder.
And faster.
And it hurt.
And she cried.
And she begged.
And she promised.
And she was forgiven.
And…
She loved it.
