Just Say No

It was a command, not a request. She would leave, or she would obey.

Cassie obeyed.

I watched, enthralled, as her jacket and shirt came off. Those were followed by the skirt and then, one by one, her socks. Next, she unclasped her bra and threw that in a pile with her other clothes, giving me a wonderful view of those firm, cantaloupe-sized breasts for the second time in two days. Finally she let her panties drop, leaving her entirely nude.

She didn't say anything, but her body language conveyed her unspoken question perfectly. Now what?

I stepped closer, mere inches away from her naked body, inside her comfort zone. Then, very slowly, very lightly I ran a finger down the side of her body. I let my hand trail down from her shoulder to the curve of her hip and then back up as I spoke.

"As I've been trying to explain, this isn't about me. This is about you. I didn't ask you to remove your clothes for my benefit. I did it because I want to make you uncomfortable. I want you to associate this pathetic attempt to indulge your nasty, dirty habit with nasty, dirty behavior. Maybe then you'll learn some self-control. Any time you feel you've learned your lesson, you are, of course, free to walk out the door."

I paused and withdrew my hand. She didn't move and she didn't say a word. I could only conclude she was really desperate for a smoke, which was all the more reason to keep going.

I walked over to the table on the far side of the room that doubled as my desk. "Come here," I instructed her, and again she obeyed without question.

"Bend over and grab the edge of the table."

Cassie complied, and I couldn't help but admire the view of her perfect, round ass. That ass wouldn't be quite so perfectly smooth and unblemished by the time I was done.

I addressed her again using her full name, which I only knew from the label on her mailbox downstairs. "Cassandra Dalton, you have repeatedly tried to trick me, as well as others, into condoning your repulsive, unladylike habit. This is unacceptable. You need do be punished. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Again, I waited a few moments. When she continued not to run screaming out the door, I went on. "You will be spanked. If you find that humiliating, consider it part of your punishment. I think twenty-five strokes should be sufficient."

I ran my fingers over her right butt cheek very lightly, as I had with her side earlier. I wanted her to feel the contrast between that touch and what followed. I pulled my arm back and then brought it down as hard and as fast as I could. My hand connected with Cassie's bottom with a delightful smacking sound.

She let out a short, brief cry. Her ass rippled and slowly turned red where I had struck. The way her body was bent in front of the table, her breasts hung down from her chest. Cassie's 'twins,' as she had referred to them the previous evening, swung freely as her body reacted to the pain.

I let half a minute pass before breaking the silence. "Three things. First, As I'm sure you can imagine, it's going to be important to keep track of how many strokes you've received. Therefore, you're going to count them out loud as I deliver them. You may cry out, but afterwards I expect to hear a number. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. That brings me to point number two: You will address me with respect. I am teaching you a lesson. I am the teacher, you are the pupil. You will therefore address me as 'sir.' Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. Finally, given that I am taking time out of my evening to see to your education, it is only appropriate that you express the appropriate appreciation. After every stroke, you will not only count, but thank me for delivering it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now, we will resume. I haven't heard any numbers yet, so the next number I want to hear is one."

"Wait, but you already—" Cassie started to protest before I cut her off.

"That was a warm up," I said icily. "And you just earned yourself an additional five. The next number I want to hear is one. You may stop counting when you get to thirty. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then let's begin." My hand was already moving before I had finished the sentence.

Smack. "Akh!" Again, she let out a sharp burst of noise. "One. Thank you, sir."

Smack. "Ooh! Two. Thank you, sir."

Smack. "Guh! Three. Thank you, sir."

Smack. "Ugh! Four. Thank you, sir."

Smack. "Gah! Five. Thank you, sir."

I was thoroughly enjoying myself, though my hand had started to hurt. While the skin on my hand wasn't as sensitive as her ass, six powerful blows left it rather raw. I hadn't anticipated that, but having started there was no question that I needed to finish.

Instead of continuing immediately, I let my fingers once again delicately brush Cassie's ass. This time I reached down further, underneath her, and caressed her intimate folds.

To my shock, she was wet. Very wet.

I hadn't considered the possibility that she would genuinely enjoy the spanking. This was my dominant fantasy, and I had been assuming I was taking advantage of her situation.

Feeling her pussy that wet, I realized my error. She'd been antagonizing me, hoping for this. Just a minute ago I'd justified my decision to proceed because she'd literally asked for it. Evidently that was even more true than I realized.

"You like this, don't you slut?" I asked, holding up my fingers, still sticky with her juices. "Your body doesn't lie."

"Oh god, yes, sir," she moaned, confirming my suspicion.

"I want to hear it," I told her. "I want you to tell me what you want."

"You know what I want," she said. "May I, sir?"

Cassie obviously didn't want to give a straight answer, didn't want to come out and say she wanted the spanking itself almost as much as a cigarette. She wanted me to continue what I was doing.

"No." Smack. I timed it so the stroke landed at the exact moment I finished speaking.

"Erk! Six. Thank you, sir."

As I continued to deliver the punishment I promised, I tuned out Cassie's increasingly loud squeals, her counting and the throbbing pain in my hand.

I was reminded again just how surreal this situation was.

Here was this amazingly beautiful woman, a perfect ten, who showed up on my doorstep with this crazy story about hypnosis. Women like her usually didn't give me the time of day. Then, when I refused to give her what she wanted, she goaded me into spanking her, and she seemed to be enjoying it.

Was the hypnosis a ruse? It was so weird, so hard to believe. Why would anyone use that as an excuse? And besides, if she was spouting bullshit, then why did she pick me? Calling it strange was an understatement.

Probably best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, though.

Smack. "AAAGGGH! Oh, ah! Th-Thir-Thirty. Thank you, sir."

On second thought, now that I was finished spanking her ass, Cassie's mouth might be well worth examining. She wanted to keep pretending this was about her habit, after all.

"I can assure you that you're going to be feeling the effects of your lesson throughout the day tomorrow. Every time you sit down for the next few days, in fact. So, I need to ask you: Have you learned your lesson? Or do you require further instruction?"

"Not—" Cassie was panting, breathing in and out heavily. "Not quite getting it, sir"

"Very well. That pretty mouth of yours really seems to be getting you into trouble, so I think it deserves some special attention. I want to get across what a filthy girl you've been, so it seems only fair you get a real taste of what that means. And when I say taste, I don't mean that in a broader sense, I mean your tongue. On your knees."

She quickly straightened, then got down on her knees and opened her mouth. She had picked up on what I had in mind.

"Before we begin this next part of your lesson, let me add that should you have a burst of inspiration, you may stop. As your mouth will be full, feel free to communicate this by shaking your head from side to side slowly but emphatically, or merely pulling away and standing up." That head shake was the gesture I'd seen used as a safe word in porn where the girl was gagged.

"However, I continued. "I must warn you that if you continue to prove such a dull and dimwitted student, at the end of this lesson I am going to hold your head in position until I am done. Specifically, you're going to kiss my pubic bone until I am absolutely convinced you have swallowed every drop. Clear?"

"Yah sah." Cassie let her mouth remain open when she responded.

"Speak clearly. I didn't tell you to open wide, yet."

"Yes sir."

"Now," I said, unzipping my pants. "Open wide."

Delivering her spanking had left me quite aroused, and fully erect. I was surprised at the ease with which Cassie managed to take my entire length down her throat, and the eagerness she displayed as she began slurping at it.

Those of my exes who had been willing to give head had approached the task as if they were sucking on a shit Popsicle. Until that moment I'd never experienced a blow-job from someone who seemed as excited by the experience as I was.

Cassie's tongue brushed the underside of my shaft, stimulating the sensitive skin. Her head bobbed up and down faster and faster. Every so often she would pull back briefly, swirling her tongue against the very tip before gulping down my entire length again.

The difference between the feeble attempts of my exes and Cassie's work was the difference between beef jerky and filet mignon. She was fantastic.

I could feel my orgasm building. The way she alternated her deep strokes with those delicate flicks of her tongue guaranteed I wouldn't last long.

"Take a deep breath," I warned her. She pulled back to swirl the head of my cock again, and breathed in heavily through her nose.

Fulfilling my earlier promise, I grabbed her by the hair and firmly forced her all the way down onto my shaft. I held her there, her upper lip and nose pressed hard against my pubic bone, her lower lip putting pressure on my balls. I felt myself erupt within her.

I looked straight into her eyes as I came, watching her reaction. Her eyes were wide and I could see her react as my fluid spurted down her throat. She tensed and squirmed, but I could tell it was reflexive, her body's natural reaction not a genuine attempt to break my hold. Cassie was doing her best to follow my instructions, still willingly submitting to me.

"Swallow." I instructed her.

I could see her face contort, and felt her lips and tongue move around me as she tried to swallow with her mouth still wrapped around my cock. Her full mouth made swallowing more difficult, but I watched and waited with amusement as she gurgled and gulped, forcing down everything I'd given her.

After about twenty seconds of this, her reflexive squirming became more intense. I could tell she was struggling for air. With my member blocking off her airway, she was quickly running out of oxygen.

I certainly didn't want her to pass out, but I did want to push her limits. This whole evening she seemed to be daring me to go further. So, I pushed her further. Smoking clogged lungs and airways. She needed to learn the value of fresh air.

I decided that fifteen seconds would be appropriate. Not too long, but enough to push her limits, to teach her that lesson she seemed so insistent on receiving.

I counted slowly to fifteen in my head. One, one-thousand. Two, one-thousand. Three, one-thousand...

While she wasn't trying to shake her head or pull away I could feel her trembling and gasping, ineffectually trying to breathe. She was starting to panic as she became more and more desperate for air and I showed no sign of relenting.

I think Cassie might have been about to give in and pull away, when I reached my count of fifteen, and eased her head back. I popped out of her mouth trailing a single, thin, sticky strand of semen which fell down over her lips and chin.

She gasped, loudly sucking in a much needed breath. I gave her half a minute to catch her breath, and then reached over to her. I ran my finger upwards, collecting the remaining rivulet of cum that had dribbled down her face.

I held up my finger to her mouth "I told you before: you're not done until every drop has gone down. Finish it."

Cassie warily eyed my finger for a few seconds. I thought for a moment that I'd finally hit her limit and now she would finally leave. She didn't, though. Cassie slowly wrapped her lips around my finger and sucked it clean.

She finished and looked back up at me, straight into my eyes. "Thank you, sir."

"Good girl." On impulse, I kissed her lightly on the forehead.

Cassie smiled one of her amazing smiles. "Thank you, sir," she repeated. "Since I've been good, may I now? Please, sir?"

"No." I frowned as I took a moment to collect my thoughts. She was clearly anxious, but said nothing as I considered.

I'd enjoyed what we just did, and I strongly suspected that she did too. Nevertheless, even though I was nominally calling the shots, I didn't feel like I was entirely in control of the situation. She'd pushed me to be dominant, so I'd let the beast loose. Who, then, had really been in the driver's seat?

More importantly, I still didn't fully understand her motivations. I had no intention of telling her smoking was acceptable, but this was the first time I'd ever shared my dominant fantasies with anyone. If this was something she enjoyed, I wanted to do it again.

It came down to whether or not to break character. The dominant persona I'd adopted wasn't really me, or at least, it was only a small part of me. It was a lot of fun being in control like that, but real life wasn't a sex fantasy.

The healthy, responsible thing would have been to stop and talk about what we just did, how it made her feel, what she wanted, and what was really going on between us. In the more extreme porn I enjoyed, there were often interviews of the participants, debriefing them on what they'd been through and how they felt about it after it was over. That's what I really wanted to do, but—

But. The evening felt like a dream, a dream that I might easily wake from at any moment. This thing between Cassie and I felt like a soap bubble, likely to burst if I reached up to grasp it too tightly. Forcing Cassie to talk in real, honest terms seemed bound to bring ugly, boring reality crashing down like an avalanche on top of this beautiful, fragile fantasy.

I think part of the reason people kept telling me I needed to relax is because I sometimes pursue topics past the point where whoever I'm talking with feels comfortable. I notice things, and I don't always let things go when I should. I can be too explicit, too direct. As a lawyer, that can be a useful skill. Off the clock, it's less so. I wasn't willing to risk screwing things up this time, as I had so often before.

I needed to be careful. I had repeatedly reminded her that she could leave because I wanted to make it clear that she was participating in this by choice, that she was giving her consent. However, the repeated dismissals were also part of the role I was playing, the arrogant dom who was doing her a favor by seeing to her discipline. This was the role that excited her, and I couldn't very well turn around and talk realistically without breaking character.

Every time I'd given her a chance to run, she'd turned me down and pushed back. I was taking a chance that would continue, but I was taking a chance either way.

"I had hoped that you might learn your lesson here, tonight," I told her. "Perhaps I was too optimistic. However, I want you to take some time and think about what I'm trying to teach you. All day tomorrow, I'm sure you'll get a reminder every time you sit down. If, by tomorrow evening, you still refuse to give up your misguided belief that I will ever approve of your unacceptable behavior, you may present yourself at my door again at six thirty for further instruction."

"Tomorrow?" I caught a hint of alarm in her voice.

"That's right, I'll still be here tomorrow. Now, get dressed and run along."

She didn't move. "Seriously? I did mention it's been over a month, didn't I? I'm not kidding about that. Six fucking weeks! Please?"

"Language, young lady. I think you mean, 'please, sir' don't you?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

I was suddenly very glad I'd continued in my dominant role. If she she was still this serious about getting my permission to smoke and wanted to press the issue, it was easier to turn her down this way. Assuming, of course, that this wasn't merely her way of insisting on further "instruction." I couldn't quite tell. However, the shift in her voice to a more assertive tone and the concern apparent on her face suggested her insistence might be real.

"Yes, sir. Please, sir, may I, sir?" There was more than a hint of desperation there.

"No. Absolutely not. While I want you to take tomorrow to let this lesson sink in, I can tell it will take more time to communicate the core concepts properly. Tomorrow evening. Six thirty."

The aggressive way she was looking at me, made me think she was about to argue, to yell at me, even. She didn't, though. After a few tense moments Cassie lowered her defiant gaze, and spoke again in that quiet voice of hers. "Yes, sir."

She got up and started to put her clothes back on. When she finished, and turned to leave, I softened my own voice somewhat, and called out to her. "And Cassie?"

"Sir?"

"Tomorrow, or any other time, really, if you just want to talk, that's fine too. I'll be ordering in Chinese, so we can eat and talk here, where no one will overhear." My intention was to give her an opening to make the first move. If she wanted to talk, we would talk, but I wouldn't push her.

She nodded, "Yes, sir."

Then she walked out the door, leaving me to go to bed deeply satisfied, but at the same time even more confused than the previous night.

— 3 —

That following morning I woke up, and couldn't help but wonder if it had all been a dream. But no, there was the receipt for La Campagna sitting on an end table, and over there was where I'd pushed some books aside on the dining table so that Cassie could better grip it. It hadn't imagined it, which meant there was a very good chance she would reappear again that evening.

Reappear. I couldn't help but compare it to some bizarre scenario out of a fantasy novel: And lo, it came to pass that on the third night the beautiful maiden did reappear unto him once more. Except that this was real life, and Cassie was no maiden, at least not in the strictest sense of the word.

She did show up though, right on time. When I opened the door she gestured to the interior of my apartment just as she had the first night. She had a gleam in her eye. "May I?"

With a strong sense of déjà vu, I paraphrased my original response: "Enter," then followed it up. "I have food. You like Yu Hsiang eggplant?

As it happened, she did. The problem was that she didn't seem to want to talk. At least, she didn't want to talk about anything that mattered.

I asked about her day, hoping that she would bring up her feelings about the previous evening, an opening into the conversation I wanted to have. Instead, she talked about her frustrations with a particular client that she had to deal with all day.

"So, I have the game mechanics working, and that's the hard part. But then he goes off on the color scheme. First, it's make it red. Sure, simple. Then, it's make it darker. Fine, but then he says it's too dark. I tell him to give me a hex code, and he flips, telling me that it's my job to figure it out! What the hell?"