Mackenzie learns some discipline at Marianne's hand

"... come here, Kenz." Marianne gestured toward the redhead, who stood up, unsure of what to do next. Marianne hesitated, wondering whether it was defiance, or Mackenzie was simply disoriented. "I said, come here" she repeated her order and Mackenzie stepped forward this time. Marianne tried to control the nervousness in her voice. Every time I give you an order I want to hear you answer. Say, 'Yes, Ma'am'" Mackenzie flustered and could barely articulate the words. "Uh ... yes, Ma'am" Calling Marianne 'Ma'am' was surely something she didn't had in mind when she came here.

"Good." Marianne stroke Mackenzie's thigh lightly. "Lay over my lap". Mackenzie swallowed as she stared in disbelief. "I said, lay over my lap, Kenz". Marianne spoke with an angrier tone, and, again, once she repeated her order, the redhead complied. It was strange, laying face down on the sofa, over her friend's lap, with her round ass perked up, while Marianne lifted her skirt. It was clear what was about to follow.

Mackenzie had not experienced a spanking prior to yesterday, and now she found herself ready for another one in less than a day. The thought of putting up a fight went as quickly as it came: the idea that Marianne held all the cards - regardless how much of an exaggeration that was - started to take root in her mind. A lingering doubt in her ability to resist began to turn into a firm belief in her own weakness, and, as she got ready to be spanked again, she realized that the anxiety that she felt was not fear, but anticipation. She wanted to relive yesterday's helplessness and humiliation.

Mackenzie's ass was still red and somewhat tender, so she felt the blow sharply, grunting and gripping at the edge of the sofa. Her eyes were tearing from the pain but the exhilarating sensation filled her with arousal. "Thank you, Ma'am", she whispered softly. "What did you say, Kenz?" Marianne held her hand up in surprise. "Thank you, Ma'am" repeated the redhead, barely able to hide the emotion in her voice. "Why did you say that?" "It feels good, Ma'am." Marianne couldn't stop notice how Marianne started to address her as "Ma'am" all of a sudden. She struck her hard again.

"Thank ... you... Ma'am." Mackenzie's voice was cut and breathy and she was at the verge of crying, but it all felt good. It felt right. And in the space of a few minutes, she had stopped thinking of Marianne as her friend. She started thinking that hesitant, inexperienced, and boyfriend-crazy Marianne wasn't vastly superior to her - not compared to others she knew, like Rachel and Willow for instance - but, instead she, Mackenzie, was the one that really was inferior. She was the one deserving the spankings and humiliation, and from what Marianne hinted, becoming some sort of sexual plaything. Because she desired it more than anything in the world, from Marianne or anyone else.

"Do I have to remind you again how to address me?" asked Marianne, as in a dream. "No, Ma'am" answered Mackenzie. "I have learned my lesson, Ma'am. Thank you." And she was ready for the next ordeal.