Time was running out and summer had passed her by. Even the late September reprieve of sunshine felt fragile, as if the lightest breeze would blow it away in favour of autumn. The trees, which like her hair, were a copper brown but there was a dryness to them that reminded her of death and lost loves.

Bryana turned 40 this month, not old by any standard but it felt as if her youth was on borrowed time. Two husbands had come and gone now, marriages scattered as fickle as the wind. One had been a disaster and she would not dwell on it and the child-self who had made such reckless choices. The second… well she thought, it had been fine while it lasted…

The wind picked up then and she held her breath as if fearing winter would sweep in on the tail of its breeze. Then after a swirl of red-brown confetti, it died down.

Her heart swelled with longing and she cast her gaze back to the little town she had chosen for a lonely weekend break. At least the pub would have a fire with gin and tonic to offer some self-medication.

Bryana sighed.

She found the Hart and Hound almost empty at this time of day and consequently no one had deemed it necessary to light the fire. It was warm enough, she supposed, but out of the autumn sunshine the old oak beams cast a chill shadow. But maybe that was just her.

In another month or two she would cast off the melancholy and look forward to mulled wine and a more decided season. She smiled. Perking up, Bryana found the old brass bell on the dark wood counter and rang it twice.

The legend above the door boasted that the pub was 13^th century and the service was just as antiquated. It was certainly taking an age.

“Can I buy you a drink?” said a smoky rich voice and she made a half turn to confront its owner.

The man was neither tall nor short, but he filled out the Arran sweater well enough and had it not been for a thick head of steel grey hair she would have taken him for her own age. Usually she went for the cuddly silver fox uncle types, but this man was too slim for cuddles and his face had a hard severe look to it that reminded her of someone’s angry father. Resting bitch face, she thought and stifled a smirk. Maybe for men that should be resting bastard face, she thought.

“It isn’t obligatory, but manners might suggest the merest of answers,” the man said sharply.

“I didn’t realise you were talking to me,” she shot back at him, giving as good as she got.

As soon as she said it she wondered if a polite sorry proceeding her words might have softened the tone.

The Fox almost smiled and did a slow sweep of the empty bar with his eyes.

Bryana blushed angrily, she felt slightly foolish. Both emotions must have shown on her face because the stern father-look sharpened. Then the man shrugged and turned away.

“G&T,” Bryana blurted.

The Fox made a slow turn of his head to regard her sourly, giving her the full benefit of his RBF.

“You offered me… eh a drink,” she prompted him, “Bryana, Bryana Jones…” she felt awkward for a moment and then tentatively proffered a hand.

“Jack Angram,” he said firmly and for the first time he smiled. His eyes were kind and twinkled blue as he took her hand and all but crushed it. “A lovely but unusual name,” he continued.

“I might say the same about yours,” she said and then winced. What was she saying?

“What Jack?” his eyes twinkled again.

“Angram, I meant,” she let her teeth meet in a defensive row and wondered if the floor had a trap door.

“Gin,” he laughed, “I can see that you need one.”

“So what…?” she began after the barman finally surfaced to serve them.

At the same moment he said, “You here on holiday?”

She giggled and he signalled that her question should take precedence.

The conversation became easier after that and three gins in she was feeling mellow as the conversation shook loose.

“You were married then?” she asked as casually as she could.

“Not as recently as you,” he sighed.

“No hurry then?” she licked her lips.

He did a half shrug. “She left me for one of her casuals,” he said mysteriously, “I obviously didn’t spank her enough.”

Bryana gaped and executed a quick head shake. Maybe she misheard. “I’m sorry.”

“You know, we had a DD thing. When she got out of line I used to spank her,” he let his eyes rest on his beer as if it might lurch at him, the RBF back in place.

“You used to spank her?” Bryana gasped, “No wonder she left you.”

She wanted to bolt for the exit, but something held her, there was a story here.

“I told you, we had a DD thing, but she was more into the whole slave bit. She had casuals who used to role play some Gorean shit. Sorry, pardon my language,” he was smiling again.

“A DD thing?” Bryana asked.

“Domestic Discipline, you know I would spank her if she got out of line… but for me it is about caring and guidance. She was into more theatrical pain…” Jack might as well have been talking Chinese but Bryana’s head rush tugged at her elsewhere too and she thought about a book she once read.

“Doesn’t spanking hurt then?” she asked.

“Of course and it’s meant to, and it wasn’t as if we didn’t do the other stuff… it is just that I didn’t need her to be naked on her knees at 5pm holding my slippers when I got home…” he snorted.

“No… I can see that,” Bryana said somewhat tensely, then she giggled.

*

What am I doing here? The mantra ran through Bryana’s head over and over as she ascended the stairs to Jack’s flat. Maybe it was too many gins or too much boredom but this time curiosity and a sense of adventure had urged her to accept his advances.

“You asked about DD and you’re going to find out,” Jack said lightly as he extended an inviting arm for her to lead the way through the door. “Remember you can leave at any time and the safe words are…”

“Indian Summer, I know,” Bryana giggled. She had no idea what safe words were or why she needed them. If she wanted him to stop or to get out then she would.

“You’re not taking this seriously,” Jack growled.

“Well…” Bryana drawled in a dismissive sigh.

Jack stopped and invested a good moment in RBF before barking, “You can go or you can stay, but while you are here you will respect my lifestyle.”

His tone was hard and she felt a shiver down her spine. The idea that he might be a maniac ready to whisk her off to slavery in some exotic country trilled in her and she knew she wasn’t that drunk.

“I’ll stay,” she said defensively, feeling like a scolded teen.

“Okay, but one more show of disrespect and I’ll spank you,” he replied casually.

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks at this. It was almost as if he were serious, seriously serious, she amended and that he was not just playing a game.

“Alright,” he said using a gentle paternal manner as he drew her towards him.

She was shy now and inclined her head until he lightly held her chin and raised her face. Before she could say anything he kissed her and her tummy did a flip. Then pulling her in close, he embraced her tightly so that he could kiss her more deeply.

The only sound she made was her breathing and she hugged him back, now grateful for some masculine attention.

“I wasn’t expecting this,” she murmured as he kissed her again, “I mean today has been a bit of a downer if I am honest but…”

“Bryana,” Jack said sharply, “Stop talking.”

“Yes Sir,” she half-giggled and allowed herself to be lowered onto his sofa.

She was almost carried away before she remembered something. “I have to go…” she said breathlessly and pointed to what she presumed was the bathroom.

He nodded and sat up.

“Another drink?” he said easily.

She shook her head and smiled at him softly. A one night stand, why not?

Once in the bathroom she quickly checked her bag for any necessary and then confident she was protected even if he wasn’t prepared, she quickly got undressed. After a pause she stripped down naked before putting her blouse back on.

One of her BGFs had told her about the three Ss. Sexy, Safe and Sensible. Despite the condom in her blouse top pocket she was feeling naughty.

“Sexy hell yes, safe and sensible can go hang,” she aped a movie accent in the mirror before slinking back into the bedroom.

Jack smiled when he saw her and sat back like a king on a throne. “I like it,” he said throatily, “But no one said you should get undressed.”

She blew him a kiss and whispered in her best Lauren Bacall, “Don’t you think you are taking this Lord and Master crap too far?”

Jack shook his head in disbelief, but he was smiling manfully. “What did I say?”

“Oh, sorry, but don’t you think all of that is a bit ridiculous…” she didn’t get to finish as he stood up and seized her firmly before tumbling her down across his lap.

His hard thighs beneath made her tummy flip again and his firm grip on her wrists was positively primeval. But she was suddenly aware that the hem of her shirt had ridden up to expose her bare bottom. All at once she was vulnerable and embarrassed and…. and…

Now he had pinned her right wrist into the small of her back with his left and was smoothing the flesh of her bottom.

“What did I say?” Jack rasped.

“Is it spanking time already?” Bryana quipped. She felt a little foolish with all the roleplay and her mocking tone helped her retain some control.

His hand stung her sharply and her breath escaped her noisily. It hurt worse than she was expecting and she groaned.

The next spank was harder and she bucked.

“Hey,” she said and tried to reach back to rub her bottom, “Not so… ahh…”

The spanks fell slowly but with an edge and she was soon struggling to take an even breath as her bottom was seriously beginning to sting.

“Okay, yah, ah… ooh,” she moaned as she began to yell, “Hey this isn’t… eh… f-funny…”

“No the fun part comes later, well for me anyway, this is the spanking you were promised for disrespect,” Jack told her as he spanked away.

“B-but…” she was panting now and her bottom was really beginning to burn. She was even close to crying a little.

Jack was putting some serious force into the spanks now, great sweeps of his arm ended with his palm some inches beyond the surface of her bottom.

“Stop, stop, stop…” she wailed.

He did abruptly.

“You want to go?” Jack asked in annoyance.

“N-no b-but…” Bryana panted.

The spanking resumed with gusto and she yelped. No, there were definitely tears in her eyes now, she was actually getting a spanking, not just love pats.

“Please Jack, please,” she sobbed.

Jack didn’t but as he eased up a little he said sharply, “You can go, you can stay or since it’s your first time and I am not actually responsible for you, you can use the safe words.”

He said all this without pausing and the spanking if anything now got sharper.

Indian Summer, she thought, now bawling like a kid before she realised she hadn’t actually said it.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, I get it now, I didn’t mean to… ahhh-haa,” she sobbed.

Still she hadn’t broken. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Apology accepted,” Jack said suddenly and set her on her feet.

Bryana slapped her hands to both bottom cheeks and danced around the room wailing.

“You b-bar…” she caught his gaze just in time before ruefully saying, “Bar steward.”

“Still think I am playing?” he growled.

“No,” she said sullenly.

“Good, now you can go and stand in the corner,” he told her.

“What?” she gasped. But she could see he wasn’t joking.

“And put your hands on your head,” he ordered.

“This is too much… I mean…”

Jack stood up and sighed heavily.

“Okay, okay, I’m doing it alright,” she wailed, “But this isn’t funny and it isn’t damn well sexy,” she pouted.

He crossed the room behind her so that she tensed in nervous anticipation. His hand clamped her firmly between her thighs and pressed her to her groan.

“No?” he whispered closely into her ear so that she felt his breath, “What’s this then, autumn rain?”

“The other stuff,” she whispered urgently, “You said ‘it wasn’t like you didn’t do the other stuff,’ to your wife I mean…?”

“You mean enemas, figging, anal plugs…?” he said in a darkly amused voice.

She gasped.

“Too rich for this little girl’s blood, I think,” he chuckled, “At the moment anyway.” Then he whispered something.

“Look I don’t really… I mean if I knew you better… not that I would swal… you know…” she gulped. Rather appropriately, he thought.

“Then I’ll just have to spank you again,” he whispered.

“What? But that’s… that’s blackmail,” she gasped.

He reached up and stroked her hair.

“I am going to spank you again anyway,” he chuckled, “But we could always do the other.”

She gulped again and it rained a little harder.

“I don’t have my toys with me though, so we would have to improvise,” he said moving closer.

Still facing the wall, she didn’t know if he was naked, but she felt his hot hardness pressing against her sore bottom.

She moaned and closed her eyes. “Do the safe words cover that?”

“We don’t need words, you’re safe,” he soothed, “It is just your bottom that is imperilled. Unless you want to leave that is?”

“N-no,” she breathed, “Please…”

“You stand there for a little while and think about it,” he told her, “Then I am going to spank you properly. Then you can choose which game we play… this time.”

She swallowed hard and flushed, oh God, she thought. “And… and… and… then what?” she whispered.

“Well if you are a good girl… well then I might satisfy you,” he rasped, drawing near again. “If not… then oh dear, your poor bottom.”