Old-Fashioned Values (5 page)

“Never do that, Sally,” Mark said, grabbing that hand and pinning it at her waist with his own left hand, and then resuming the spanking in the same place and making her cry out. “It’s your first time, so I won’t punish you extra for it, but next time I most certainly will.”

At that thought, and at the pain of the spanking, she started to squirm over his lap. “It hurts so much!”

But Mark wrapped his left arm around her waist, held her bottom still, and kept spanking her, even as she kicked her legs.

“You’re going to learn to be a good girl for your spankings, Sally,” he said. “Or you’re going to spend a lot more time over my lap.”

Finally, she quieted her legs, and Mark gave her one last sharp spank.

“There,” he said. “We’re done.”

Sally tried to rise, but Mark said, “You’ll stay over my lap for a little bit now, Sally.”

“Why?” Sally whimpered. Mark didn’t answer in words; instead he began to rub her bottom very gently. “Oh!” Sally cried softly into the comforter.

Finally Mark said, “It’s the beginning of aftercare.”

“What’s that?” Whatever it was, it was lovely, although it also seemed, well, very improper.

“It’s the most important part of loving discipline,” Mark said.

“Did John do this to Carol, after he whipped her?”

“Not right then, because I was there, but he said they would have aftercare when I left, and Carol said that if I ever spanked a girl I should remember that aftercare is the most important part.”

“But since no one else is here…”

“Mm-hmm,” Mark said, rubbing just a tiny bit more firmly.

“Oh, Mark… I’m not sure… I mean, it feels so good, but…” Sally gave a helpless little moan. It felt much too good, and suddenly she knew that this loving discipline thing had an element that made it appropriate only for couples who had been together for a while—that is, who had been really intimate. She wasn’t sure it was something that should happen on a second date.

She had plenty of friends who had been really intimate (which was what Sally called sex, to herself) on first dates, but along with everything else that she wanted to keep old-fashioned, she had told herself that she wouldn’t consider it until she and Mark had been together for at least a month. She wasn’t a prude, and right now she definitely thought that Mark could well be the right boy to be really intimate with for her first time, but the feelings the aftercare was awakening in her just seemed too strong, and too soon.

Mark shifted a little bit on the bed, and he gave a little grunting gasp that sounded rather like her own whimper at his touch. Was he… hard? Sally felt herself blush.

He took her whole, glowing bottom in his hand now, and Sally felt like the gesture meant something very specific: for him to hold her that way, after spanking her and rubbing her there, meant… well, it meant that Sally’s bottom belonged to him, somehow.

She loved it—but she also felt like she needed to think, and to sort through her emotions, and she was just beginning to feel a little alarm, when Mark abruptly pulled her panties back up and her skirt back down.

“Stand up,” he said softly. Sally obeyed, a little confused, and then Mark took her into his arms, holding her very close. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair. “I got carried away.”

Sally felt her mouth open in surprise. “What? What do you mean?”

“I shouldn’t have spanked you so hard, and I shouldn’t have rubbed your bottom like that.”

“Oh.” She thought for a moment about whether to tell him what she was thinking. Somehow, to tell him felt like she would be going even faster than if he had done the thing she had secretly wanted him to do, and moved his fingers down inside her lowered panties, between her closed thighs. “I thought you said it was aftercare, and it was the most important part.”

“It is… it was—it’s just, well I think it’s a kind of aftercare that we probably shouldn’t do for a while.”

“Oh, Mark.” She clung to him fiercely for a moment, gathering her courage, and then she said it. “I want you to be the one.”

“Sally—”

“Not tonight. But… in a month, or so?”

He drew back and held her at arms’ length, so that they could look into one another’s eyes. “Seriously?” he asked.

Sally nodded. “Thank you for stopping. I don’t think I… well, if you hadn’t stopped, I’m not sure I would have stopped you.”

“I want your first time to be special,” Mark said.

Sally pressed her lips together, wondering if she could ask the question she wanted to ask.

“What?” Mark said.

“Will it be your first time too?”

Mark took a deep breath. “Yes,” he admitted.

Sally felt her face light up like a Christmas tree, and she hugged him again. “Oh, that makes me so happy!” It seemed like Mark held her a little stiffly, though. “What’s wrong?”

“Well,” he said, “the guy is supposed to be experienced, isn’t he?”

“You
are
experienced,” Sally said. “I mean…” She found that her blush had started up again. “Well, I mean, you
spanked
me.”

Mark laughed. “I guess I did. Was it so bad? Can you forgive me?”

Her blush felt even hotter. “Yes,” she whispered. “More than yes. I mean, I didn’t
like
it! Don’t get me wrong! But, I mean, I told you—I want you to be the one.”

“Because I spanked you?” Mark said. There was wonder in his voice.

Sally couldn’t even say the word “Yes.” She just nodded, against his shoulder.

* * *

Sally walked back to Castle House hand in hand with Mark, neither of them saying anything. Her bottom tingled under her skirt and her duffel coat, but it didn’t really
hurt,
exactly. Or maybe it did hurt, but she liked it? Her mind veered away from trying to figure it out, and concentrated on the feeling of Mark’s big hand holding her little one.

In front of Castle House, Mark kissed her, much harder than he had kissed her earlier, in front of Jackson House. But the kiss was only the slightest bit less chaste: he opened her mouth with his lips, but just as Sally was sure she would feel what it was like to French kiss, he broke it off, and said, “We’re going really, really fast, but… well, let’s not say it, yet? But do you feel it?”

Sally felt an enormous grin break out on her face. “Mm-hmm,” she said. “Can we say it next time?”

Mark laughed. “Deal,” he said, kissed her quickly once more, and walked away, back toward Jackson House. Sally stood there, hoping he would turn back to see if she were watching him. Then he did, still walking away, and she blew a kiss. He turned all the way around, walked backward for a few steps, and blew a kiss back to her.

Then, not wanting to spoil the moment, she turned and ran up the steps, unlocked the door, and slipped inside. Rachel, one of her two roommates, was waiting in the lobby, practically jumping up and down with excitement.

“Sally, you’re so lucky! He’s so cute!”

“Oh my God, Rachel. That date… well, it…” Suddenly Sally felt as shy as she had ever felt in her life. She had been about to tell Rachel about the spanking, and now she realized that maybe she shouldn’t. It had seemed so perfect until she had come through the door of Castle House, and now suddenly it seemed like no one would understand.

“What?” Rachel asked. Rachel Lowenstein was probably the person who had the strongest claim to be Sally’s best friend at Mendon. She was a little taller than Sally and a little curvier; she had black hair and brown eyes, and she was known as just about the nicest person in the freshman class. Sally knew that if she did tell anyone about the spanking, it should be Rachel.

“Let’s go upstairs,” she said. “I’ll tell you everything, but it—it wasn’t like any date you’ve ever heard about, I bet.”

Chapter Six

Rachel followed Sally up the big staircase that led from the lobby of Castle House to the second floor, where their suite was. In the suite, their third roommate, Cassandra, sat on the futon in the common room watching a
Love Boat
rerun.

“So spill!” Rachel said, as soon as she had shut the door.

Sally turned around. The smile was still there on her face, but something had dimmed it, or complicated it. She shot her eyes over to Cassandra, and Rachel realized that something must have happened with Mark that Sally didn’t want Cassandra to hear about.

“What?” Cassandra asked absently.

“Oh,” Rachel said, trying to cover it over. “Sally…”

Cassandra focused in as Rachel found herself unable to think of anything to put after ‘Sally’ that wouldn’t attract their roommate’s attention.

“Oh, it’s Mark Weaver, isn’t it?” Cassandra said. “Were you out with him tonight?”

Sally nodded.

“How did it go? Any smooching?” Cassandra was unpredictable: she could be dismissive of Sally’s and Rachel’s attempts at romance, but she could also, most of the time, be understanding. She considered herself very experienced, and demonstrated it by hooking up at least once a week in a guy’s room—generally not the same guy more than three times.

Rachel saw Sally hesitate. Clearly there really was some big secret, and Sally didn’t know how Cassandra was going to take it. Had Sally and Mark hooked up?!

“He spanked me,” she said.

Cassandra’s green eyes widened. “Seriously? That’s awesome. How was the sex?”

“Cassandra!” Rachel said. Spanked her? And then they had had sex? How did Cassandra know?

“We, um, didn’t have sex.”

“What?” Cassandra asked, incredulous. “Well, okay. I mean, kinky people don’t have to put things in any proper order, I guess. But that’s a little strange—how did it happen?”

“Cassandra!” Rachel said again. “Don’t be…”

“I said a bad word, and he punished me.”

“What?” Now Cassandra was flabbergasted. “Wait a sec, Sally. That’s not right.”

“Seriously, Sally? Like, over his lap?” Rachel said.

Sally nodded.

“I think we need to call campus police,” Cassandra said. “Kink is one thing, but that’s not what this is. How did it happen? Did he just grab you?” She reached out for her phone.

“Wait!” Sally said. “I said the word at the restaurant, and he told me he was going to spank me…”

“And he spanked you at the restaurant? Then there will be witnesses, at least…”

“Hold on!” Sally said, her voice rising and tears coming into her eyes. “He didn’t spank me at the restaurant, okay? He took me back to his room to do it.”

“And you went with him?”

“Yes! So can you please just forget about the police?”

Rachel had no idea what to think. Sally had seemed so happy when she arrived home, but now Cassandra—who was only trying to take care of her—had made her upset.

“I don’t understand, Sally,” she said softly. “Did you like it, somehow? Was it, like, foreplay or something?”

“No!” Sally said. “But… I liked that he… I don’t know, that he took responsibility for me that way.”

“You like that he told you what to do,” Cassandra said flatly, with a hint of anger in her voice.

“Okay, yes,” Sally said. “I like that he told me he wasn’t going to let me use bad language. I like that he made rules for me, and told me he was going to enforce them.”

“Do you really think you can trust him?” Rachel asked.

Sally didn’t answer for a moment. She took off her coat and hung it up in the closet, then she came back to where Cassandra sat in judgment and Rachel stood in confusion.

“Yes,” she finally said. “Afterward, if he had wanted, I think I would have, you know, hooked up with him.”

“And he didn’t want to?” Cassandra said, the tone of disgust growing in her voice.

“No,” Sally replied defiantly. “I’m pretty sure he did.”

“Is he some kind of pervert?”

“No! He’s a gentleman, Cassandra!”

Rachel said, “Come on, Cassandra. Just because you don’t want a guy to act that way doesn’t mean that Sally can’t like it, right?”

“It’s just so fucking 1950s!” Cassandra said. “Like you’re asking him to keep you in the kitchen in a housecoat and take you to cocktail parties on his arm and look the other way while he fucks his secretary.”

“Look,” Sally said, “we’ve all seen
Revolutionary Road,
right?”

“I’ve
read Revolutionary Road,
thank you very much.”

“Whatever. It’s not the… the… fucking 1950s.”

“Are you seriously hesitating to say the word ‘fucking’ because your boyfriend spanked you?”

“Yes! And I shouldn’t have said it—and I wouldn’t have…” Sally’s voice was thick with tears now. “Goddammit!” She walked into her bedroom and slammed the door.

Rachel looked at Cassandra. Cassandra glared back at her. “Cassandra… you didn’t have to—”

“Yes, I fucking did,” Cassandra said. “I can’t call the police, but I can persuade her that the gentleman spanker is dangerous and she needs to find a real boyfriend.”

“I’m not sure that’s true,” Rachel said.

“How can it not be true? He
spanked
her.”

“But when she said it, the first thing you said is that it was awesome.”

“That was different. That’s kink.”

“Why isn’t this kink?”

That gave Cassandra a moment’s pause, at least. She twisted her face to the side, her hyper-curly red hair swinging with the motion, and looked like she was watching
The Love Boat
for a moment, though Rachel felt sure that Cassandra was actually working out a killer argument to defeat her.

Then she turned back. “Because Sally took it seriously, and Mark clearly meant it seriously. Kink is
play
. Did it seem to you like Sally felt that way about it? Why did she have trouble saying ‘fucking’?”

“Has it occurred to you that some people think bad language isn’t particularly attractive?”

Cassandra laughed. “Fuck you,” she said lightly, just as a joke, but then she got serious. “That’s fine. But clean up your language because you don’t think it’s attractive, not because some guy is going to put you over his knee for a spanking if you don’t.”

Rachel gave a snort of frustration. “Well, I’m going to see if she’s okay.”