Thursday, 16 June 2011

Xochitl's Tale, Part Three

The tube trundled its way towards my station with Xochitl fidgeting at my side, her tongue licking her lips constantly, and her fingers playing with the hem of her dress. Occasionally she would try to engage me in chatter, but by and large I ignored her which served to make her even more nervous. I must admit that I do so enjoy it when a naughty girl gets into that state as I just know that her panties are moistening nicely in terrified anticipation of what is to come...

"What was it you called me? Pocahontas? What does it mean?" Xochitl's questions brought me out of my erotic revere, and I half-turned to face her.

"She was an American-Indian princess who married an English colonist in Virginia," I told her.

"An Indian? But I am not an Indian, look at me," she said, jiggling her puppies for effect.

"You have red skin, so you look like an American-Indian," I said.

"Nooo, that is not important. Look, I have short hair, it only comes down to my shoulders. Indian girls have long hair. Mine is nicely curled and Indian girls have theirs as straight as straight can be." Xochitl paused at that point and sat back with a smile on her face as if she had scored a major point.

"Indian or not, you are still going over my knee," I announced.


And so it went on with Xochitl desperately trying to change the subject all the way back to my room in that dreary little polytechnic. It was with a sigh that I opened my door and pushed madam inside. Closing the door behind me I took off my jacket and made a great song and dance about removing a cuff-link and rolling up my right sleeve. I then strode purposefully over to the bed and sat down on it.

I have to be honest and say that I had started to enjoy myself no end. I must admit that the look of a female's face when she knows that a bonfire is about to be lit under her skirt is one to gladden the heart of the most jaded of spanking men and I for one have never tired of seeing it, and believe me when I say that I was looking at just such a face that night. I lifted up my arm and then pointed to my knee in an unmistakable gesture that she should lower herself over it.

To my amazement Xochitl walked over to me. I could not believe my eyes, as nothing like that had ever happened before. I had placed many a recalcitrant female across my knee and paddled obedience into her, but I had always had to put them into position across my knee and here to my utter delight was a young women walking submissively towards me and then standing so close next to me that her dress brushed against my leg.

I looked up at her face, saw how she bit her lower lip, and then I looked into her eyes to discover that tears were welling up inside them already.  A man would have to be an utter shit to take advantage of a woman who was in such a state, but luckily for you, readers, I am a shit indeed, so I grabbed Xochitl's arm and pulled her gently over my knee. As soon as she was in position I lifted up that frothy gold-green dress and left its skirt bunched about madam's waist. Glancing down I was delighted to see a perfectly formed pair of tight buttocks clad in black panties that had what seemed to be knotted strings on either side of them. If I grabbed hold of those strings and tugged, would those knots come undone or were they for show? I decided to find out and was delighted to see that the knots were genuine and once they were undone all I had to do was pull at the back of the panties and the lush red bottom beneath was immediately exposed.

What a sight that bottom was! An absolute delight and such a pretty colour as well. Xochitl may have gone to great lengths to pursued me that she was not actually an American-Indian, but from my point of view she looked like Geronomo's youngest sister. I wondered if it was going to be possible to redden that bottom any more than nature had already left it? Then, with that thought in mind I raised my right arm and brought it down with a solid crack across Xochitl's helpless buttock cheeks.

I spanked her soundly because I wanted her to know that silly female games would not be tolerated, but I would not say that I was cruel to her. After about a dozen smacks well laid on to alternate cheeks I paused my labours for a moment and considered my handiwork. Her bottom had certainly reddened under my ministrations so the fear that a Mexican bottom would not colour under correction was unfounded.

What amazed me though was Xochitl's reaction to having her bottom smacked, or rather, her lack of reaction. She was not trying to be brave - I have experience of that silliness and can usually smack it out of a girl - because she was sobbing quietly. However, she made no move to protect her bottom, nor did she try to escape her punishment. Instead she lay quietly across my knee awaiting whatever fate in the form of my right hand bestowed upon her.

I was puzzled by this display and I decided there and then that some close questioning of Xochitl was going to be needed later on. However, first things first, as I raised my hand again and delivered a blistering two or three dozen slaps to that delightfully upturned rump and was rewarded by the sight of it gyrating frantically to avoid the  hard palm that descended with remorseless efficiency to blister a bottom and to teach its owner the correct way to behave around me.

Xochitl was then allowed to rise, which she did, sitting on my knee with her head resting on my shoulder. She sobbed very quietly without any of the hysterics that women often treat men to when they are freshly spanked and want sympathy for their plight.  Xochitl by way of contrast behaved with great dignity, and had accepted her spanking with only the absolute minimum of fuss. As I undressed her for bed I reflected that a man's life would be so much easier if all women could take a leaf from her book.

To be continued.


Anonymous said...

She sounds like a very sweet girl.

Karl Friedrich Gauss

Uncle Nick said...

Er, yeah.

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