If you met Lucy you would think she were a paragon of privileged and successful 21
st
Century woman. Stockbroker Belt upbringing, private school education, elite university, well connected friends. Now, still in her twenties she was well established as a rising star in a City law firm. Mergers and Acquisitions, global travel, private healthcare, gym membership, a flat in the Docklands, a stable boyfriend she had first met at law school with an equally well-paid job. Her world was ordered and civilized. She wore smart designer clothes to work and expensive gym wear when working out. She went to expensive restaurants, concerts, the theatre. Her friends were all sophisticated people. None of her male colleagues, whatever they might be thinking, would dream of making an overtly sexist comment, patting her on the bum, let alone objectifying her. Such things just didn't happen these days.
So what was she doing, one chilly Saturday afternoon, walking down a busy Central London for her 2pm appointment with Master Kane to have her bottom spanked? What on earth indeed?
Her heart was pounding, her mouth dry as she focused on the numbers of the buildings. 275...277... finally, 279, she had it. An innocuous black door, with no name plate on it. That suited her. She didn't want anyone, not even a stranger to know what she was up to. Glancing one final time up and down the street, paranoid she might be seen by someone she knew, she pressed the buzzer, gave her name, the door clicked and she pushed it open.
Once in she was faced with an innocuous foyer, a carpeted staircase with a few pot plants. No one about. Master Kane's -- what was it? Office? Studio? Salon? Was on the 6
th
floor, so she took the lift up. Her heart jumped as she entered and encountered a young smiling couple, about her age. They were headed to the financial adviser on the fourth floor. "Which number?" Said the man innocuously, Lucy gasped inwardly. "Five", she lied, trying desperately to hide her ever growing embarrassment. The man smiled, he couldn't know, could he? A gynaecologist, she saw on the plaque for the fifth floor. Oh well, better that than admit she was heading to the top floor to fulfil some perverted long held fetish. The couple got out at four, Lucy at five, thankfully no one was there. She walked past the gynaecologist's office and saw a door at the end of the landing marked 6
th
floor. She pushed through it and immediately the tone changed from the rest of the building.
She faced a narrow staircase. The walls were cherry red rather than the muted whites and greys of the rest of the building, and on each side were high resolution black and white framed pictures in the style of Helmut Newton, of attractive young women in suggestive positions: one bending over and touching her ankles, head down, skirt raised and bottom bared awaiting the application of a cane. Another dressed in a slutty pastiche of office wear, tight mini skirt and frilly blouse, bending over her boss's knee receiving a sound spanking. A third standing completely naked, facing a wall, with her hands on her head and her legs slightly apart, baring freshly reddened bottom cheeks.
Lucy's well attuned mind, the rational side of her brain, told her this was obscene. A modern, educated, 20
th
Century woman, who assumed as birthright absolute equality with everyone around her. But her deeper subconscious had led her towards this. An accumulation of events had piqued her curiosity: an A level Art lesson featuring an Etruscan fresco of a woman being flagellated, the late night tipsy confession of a friend who confessed her boyfriend had spanked her and she enjoyed it, various articles in Cosmopolitan and on the web. I can't go my whole life without ever finding out, she thought. She would go in, go through with it, and that would be that. Curiosity satisfied. Probably find it was a sordid and underwhelming experience anyway.
She reached the top of the stairs and was faced by a black desk, behind which was a middle-aged woman in a formal grey suit, her hair tied in a bun, looking like a receptionist in an old fashioned hotel.
"I'm here for my two o'clock appointment", said Lucy, having mustered all the calm she could manage, as if she were an old hand at this sort of thing and a spot of spanking was a perfectly normal Saturday afternoon activity after shopping and before evening drinks.
"I see," said the receptionist, rifling through a strangely anachronistic looking card index, "with Master Kane".
"Yes" said Lucy quietly, involuntary, she could sense her head bowing. Little did Lucy know that Master Kane was the only spanker who operated from these premises. The receptionist was a friend of his who he employed to add to the ritual and embarrassment for the ladies who came to visit.
Lucy had done extensive research as to what options were available for a young woman in London looking to have her secret kinky fantasies met. She was scrupulous to avoid anything dangerous, dodgy men who could cause her harm and would not respect things she knew about the scene -- safewords and the like. Master Kane's website suggested he was a good looking spanker, experienced in his craft, and featured positive reviews from a range of women who had used his services in the past. He seemed like a man she could trust to deliver this experience.
"Four hundred pounds please."
Not wanting this payment to appear on her bank statement she pulled out notes from her purse and put them on the desk. The rational side of her brain kicked in again. This is ridiculous, she thought. Me, of all people, paying some pervy man to spank my bottom. She thought of the male colleagues in her office, especially the handsome senior partner. If they knew what I wanted they would gladly pay me multiple times this amount for the privilege, she reflected ruefully. But then she also knew from her work, that if you wanted the best service you had to be prepared to pay a professional top whack to deliver it.
"In you go Lucy", said the receptionist. Did Lucy detect an imperceptible smirk on her lips and the suggestion of a raised eyebrow as she went in?
She pushed the door marked 'Master Kane's Study' and was greeted by a smartly dressed man in a dark suit and white shirt, just like the one in the pictures on the staircase on the way up. His study was modest sized and looked fairly minimalist. After taking in Master Kane's appearance -- he lived up to the promise of the images his the website -- Lucy took in the furniture which was a mish mash. A brown sofa on one side of the room, with a low wooden stool in front of it. Next to that a low-lying black leather bench, on the other side an armless chair with a black seat. Lucy clocked it as a Mart Starm, she fetishized it somewhat as she contemplated the prospect of taking her spanking over a classic of 1930s Bauhaus design rather than something cheap from Homebase or Ikea.
"Good afternoon Lucy," said Master Kane calmly in a low, polite voice with the reassuring tones of a doctor or vet. "So you've come to get what you need." Lucy's haughtiness at the reception had receded a little. She liked what she saw. Master Kane was certainly good looking -- forty something with dark hair, greying at the temples. His body was clearly in good shape beneath that well cut suit.
"I guess so," said Lucy, her heart in her mouth.
"Let's establish some core rules," said Master Kane calmly but firmly. You have agreed to come here to receive a spanking. For this you will follow my commands without question. You will receive spankings over your clothes, knickers and bare bottom. You will refer to me as "Sir" at all times. If you forget this you will receive extra discipline which will become apparent. No sex at all. Do you understand me so far?"
"Yes...sir" trembled Lucy. Acting out the part of a submissive spankee was completely new to her.
'Your session here, will of course remain strictly confidential. None of your friends, colleagues or family will ever know about it. If you want to stop at any time, use your preferred safeword and I will stop immediately. Is that clear.
"Yes," mumbled Lucy,
"Yes...?" replied Master Kane, questioningly
"Yes sir", said Lucy abruptly, remembering the command.
"That is your first transgression, you will be punished for that later. Now, what is your preferred safeword. It should be short, clear, but not "stop", women when they are being spanked by me often blurt out stop when they don't really mean it.
"Red, Sir", replied Lucy. She knew about safewords from her reading of Fifty Shades of Grey and various Cosmopolitan articles. Not an original choice, she knew, but something esoteric felt too awkward to her.
Master Kane smiled a half smile.
"Right," he said, 'tell me Lucy, do you have any further questions before we begin."
"No sir", said Lucy.
"Good," said Master Kane calmly, "let's begin. Firstly remove your coat'.
Trembling a little, Lucy removed the dark wool coat she was wearing and handed it to Master Kane. Underneath she was wearing a blouse, a plain merino jumper, a skirt that came down to just above her knee, tights, and plain black shoes. Ever since she had arranged her appointment with Master Kane she was fretting about how to dress for this experience, and this was the best approximation of a spankee's outfit she could come up with without looking too conspicuous on the tube.
Master Kane hung Lucy's coat on the door hook, and motioned towards the footstool on the other side of the room.
"Go and stand on the stool," he said, completely calm, in a deep, firm voice.
Meekly, Lucy walked across to the stool and did as she was told.
"Put your hands behind your back,"
Lucy did so.
"Tell me Lucy, exactly how you feel right now."
"Nervous, sir," replied Lucy.
"Anything else?"
"A bit ridiculous, sir". Lucy felt her cheeks reddening as she stood on the stool, which was small and required concerted effort not to fall off. It was almost comic. A spanking, she had expected, and was braced for, but not this preliminary ritual which disorientated her.
"You may well feel ridiculous," replied Master Kane. "But consider this Lucy, I have been lenient with you for this introduction. You are still fully clothed. Your modesty is fully protected. How would you feel if you were not wearing your clothes?"
Lucy twisted her lips as she contemplated this prospect. "Worse..." she replied.
"Worse SIR' said Master Kane, raising his voice slightly, 'that is two transgressions now Lucy, believe me you will be punished for these."
"How would you feel Lucy..." he went on, "If you were standing just in your panties. Or even..." he paused, "completely naked".
Lucy gasped. She had never been used to considering her body in this way. She had, of course been naked in bed with her boyfriend, but that - if not exactly furtive, was a pretty functional experience. Vanilla sex was not without its erotic sensations but it was private, informal and cosy. Lucy had never in all her life been put on display like this, with her body, her clothes, her modesty talked about explicitly and fetishized in this way.
But of course, this is exactly what she was curious to experience. As she felt her cheeks flush with shame, she also sensed her crotch beginning to moisten.
"I would feel exposed sir." Lucy said in a quiet voice,
"Speak up,"
"Exposed sir, put on display." Replied Lucy a little more assertively.
"Good. Now Lucy, tell me exactly why you have come here."
"I want to be spanked sir." For the first time in her life, she was articulating a desire out loud to this man, in whom she was placing her complete trust. If only her sophisticated friends -- feminist and civilised to the core, could see this.
