Party Play

After a weekend at Thunder in the Mountains, I'm returning to a simple spanking story while I process things.  This fantasy was written for a spanking-party setting.  Names have been changed to protect the guilty...you'll notice my name isn't changed, because we all know how innocent I am!

The gentle hand on my shoulder was little warning for the whispered, "I thought we discussed this, Lizzie." Instantly, my attention transferred from the group I stood with to the man who stood just behind me.

"What? Luke...I...what?" With no reason coming to mind, I could not even frame a defense.

Luke tapped the side of the wineglass in my hand and gave me a significant look.

"But it's my first glass..."

"Don't compound your trouble by lying to me, young lady."

Caught, I pouted hopefully at him, "But it's Friday night."

"Hush," he set a gentle finger against my lips, "You should learn to stop while you're ahead."

I could only catch my breath. I would push until I was over someone's knee and even then I would be hard pressed to stop. Of those few things that brought my mind to a complete stop, Luke had employed one of the less obvious ones - the gentle caress of a hand on my face. Cupping a hand on my cheek or directing my gaze by grasping my chin has a similar effect of narrowing my focus to a single person. It was less dramatic than my response to some other things, but this could be employed much more casually. It is the very casual touches that have the power to undo me. I may allow many people to raise my skirt and spank me...because I enjoy it. But with those I trust, a simple touch can be powerful.

But now another touch, his hand encircling my arm, puts all the control in his hands.

"Excuse us. Lizzie and I have something to discuss."

From the laughter and teasing remarks of my friends, it is obvious that none of them expect us to have a verbal discussion. Time and space collapse, the next thing I am aware of is his hotel room. I've lost my wine glass in the transition, but my attitude has returned.

"It's not like I'm drunk and disorderly, you know. Or driving!"

"That's hardly the point."

"So what is?" I challenge, only to find the challenge ignored as he pulls me over his knee. He lays a few swats on my skirt and I giggle.

"You're wearing Ms. Blue, aren't you?" His remark is rhetorical as he flips up my skirt to look for himself.

"I knew you only wanted to see what I've got on under there."

"And can you blame me?" His hand trances intricate designs on my girdle-covered bottom.

"I suppose not," I admit. "After all, I wore it hoping you would...ow. Don't hurt your hand."

"Get me the Kent brush, then." He laughs as he helps me off his lap.

I pout at him, "You don't have to be mean!"

"If I have to get it myself, the hairbrush isn't the only thing I'm getting."

Even with that threat, I wait until he starts to get up before I scamper over and grab the brush. He settles himself back into the chair, pulling me easily across his lap.

"Don't think you've gotten away with anything. I've set aside plenty of time tonight."