“Have you ever spanked a girl?” Taisha’s eyes were wide, and she glanced at her feet as she whispered the question. I liked this shy, pretty, black girl. She was new to the university and had barely passed her 21st year. Yet, Taisha seemed young in so many ways. Our conversation started innocently: Where does one go to have fun in the city? I think she was surprised when I told her that the Whipping Post was my favorite nighttime destination. From there, the conversation quickly took a turn for my pleasures.
“I’ve been known to spank girls,” I replied. My own hands were a creamy white, and there was stark contrast when I put one finger under her narrow chin and raised Taisha’s eyes to meet mine. “Why do you ask?”
Taisha fidgeted with her fingers, twisting them into knots, clasping them at her waist. Her pupils dilated; her lips pursed, and I wanted to lean over and give her a kiss. “I’ve heard that you do,” she said, her voice low and trembling. “I’ve heard that you spank girls.” Taisha lifted her wine glass by the stem and took a single sip. Deliberately, she set the glass on the table, sat very tall and looked me in the eye. “I think I want you to spank me, Alice Dark.” The declaration was liquid; the words flowed, one to the next, like poetry. “On my bare bottom.”
I smiled at her and licked my lips. I liked the vision I had of this lovely, brown girl bent over my knees, her bottom bared for the strike. “I can do that,” I said.
“But nothing else,” Taisha added, shaking her long, natural black curls. “I’m not a lesbian. Not gay.” She twisted her hands together again. “I just-” her voice trailed off, and she looked down at the floor again. So pretty. So shy.
“Have you ever been spanked before?”
“Not by your parents? Your teachers?”
She shook her head silently.
“Then why now?”
Taisha looked up at me. Her eyes glittered with unspent tears. “I don’t know,” she said. Her bottom lip trembled. “I heard the stories about you. And I guess, I’m just curious.”
It was more than that. I knew it. And I think deep down, Taisha knew it, too. I brushed my dark hair out of my eyes and leaned back in my chair. I pretended to think about her request, though I’d already made up my mind. Across from me, Taisha wiggled and squirmed. She was nervous. Unsure of what to do or say next.
“All right,” I finally said. A flush of relief crossed the young woman’s face. “But on the couch.”
Taisha nodded, and I moved to the sofa. The young woman stood in front of me as I sat and smoothed my skirt. She seemed to have regained some of her confidence.
“I want to be across your lap.” It was a pronouncement, again, liquid in its delivery; Taisha had an almost musical voice.
I settled back in the middle of the long couch, and then nodded to Taisha. The next few moments passed quickly, and in silence. She crawled onto the couch and then across my lap, and lowered herself until I felt her full weight upon my thighs. A slight shiver ran through my own body when I felt the heat of her body. Though her confidence had returned, Taisha was still nervous, and she radiated a desire for this spanking.
I raised her sheer dress along the length of her long, slender legs, over the fullness of her bottom to her waist and tucked it into the belt around her waist. Then, I slipped my fingers into the waistband of her blue, silk panties and peeled them down to her knees.
God, she was beautiful. Her bottom was perfect: twin hemispheres of brown flesh, as yet unmarked by age or spanking. Her bottom trembled as I caressed her cheeks with my fingertips, dawdling at the cleft that separated the halves. I wanted to take it further – to probe her depths with my fingertips. But I remembered her earlier words. For now, that was forbidden.
Her face was turned so that I could see her lovely eyes – twins pools of molten chocolate. Her fingers were wrapped in my skirt and clenched the material tightly. She was tense and quiet.
“Relax, my dear.” Again, I stroked her bottom lightly, and a shiver ran through her buttocks. “Are you ready?” I asked.
“Yes.” Her reply came through gritted teeth; her eyes were wide open.
I looped one arm around her waist, and raised my hand high over my head. “You can scream if want to.” I assured her. “No will know.”
She didn’t reply, but nodded her head slightly.