You'll take the spanking

If he'd offered to rub your clitty to orgasm, it would be a different matter, but your instinct (perhaps guided by the Rulebook's memories of this false timeline) tells you that he has no intention of doing more than teasing you to the edge and keeping you there until you fake an orgasm to escape his relentless ministrations. A spanking, even a hard one, is definitely preferable to that. However, when you tell him your choice, he unbuckles his belt and pulls it through the loops, doubling it over to use as a strap.

"Excellent choice," he exclaims, patting his thigh to indicate you should bend over. That explains why he gave you options: he could hand spank you to his heart's content, but using an implement requires your permission. You suppose you could change your mind, but apparently you're an Asian spank slut now and it's about time you started acting like one.

You drape yourself across his lap as elegantly as you can manage and he wastes no time in beleaguering your backside and thighs with rapid lashes of the wide, heavy strip of leather. That's another reason he needed your blessing: the rules only permit touching of the buttocks, breasts and genitals, not thighs. Of course, if he'd thrashed your vulva raw, you'd have been only too happy to offer him your thighs as an alternative, so you're not about to complain.

The intense strapping soon has you gasping and yelping in surprise and discomfort. The practised ease with which he scourges your flesh makes you certain you've been in this position many times before since this became your morning bus. Passers by and fellow travellers glance your way, some continuing to watch in enjoyment as you get exactly what you asked for, a good hard spanking.

It hurts quite a lot, but the pain and the humiliation of the public setting fulfil a recurring fantasy for you, so when you start to writhe in the gentleman's lap, it's as much from arousal as discomfort. At least you were right about it dissuading others from masturbating you at the same time.

When the bus arrives, you're the last two on, but although it's busy, your spanker manages to find an empty pair of seats to continue where he left off. You're just relieved you're not going to spend the journey with your face in another passenger's crotch as you bend over his knee once more.

Your rear is getting really rather sore and if the journey were much longer you'd consider offering him sexual favours in return for a break, but unlike last night, you're careful to keep track of the stops and know your ordeal is soon to be over. It turns out he knows that, too, because before you can tell him you need to go, he stops of his own accord and leans back with a satisfied sigh.

"Your stop's next, Jenna," he reminds you unnecessarily. "I hope you enjoyed that almost as much as I did."

"Yes, thank-you, sir," you reply and the truth of the statement makes you blush. He transfers his belt to his other hand and then rubs your buttocks, which feels very nice indeed.

"I hope I see you again tonight, so you can thank me properly," he continues. The way he says it seems like this is a regular occurrence on your homeward journey, but you regretfully explain the changes in your work rules that make it unlikely you'll be leaving on time ever again. He's understandably disappointed and in a moment of weakness you suggest exchanging numbers. Even if he were single, you'd have no interest in him romantically, so you have no idea where this may lead, but he seems genuinely pleased by the offer.

You alight at your stop, barely getting groped on your way off the bus. Your spanker waves through the window as the vehicle pulls away again and you return the gesture, but you're already thinking about work. Your bum gets smacked a few times on the way and you continue to smile, although you're considerably more tender now than when you left home.

By a random coincidence, you find yourself sharing a lift with your boss, Mr. R., and a mousey woman wearing glasses and an under-bust dress with spaghetti straps, whom you don't recognize. Your boss shows no hesitation in laying his hands on you, one on your bottom and the other, your genitals, all whilst talking shop. The stimulation is quite distracting and you have to concentrate hard to be able to answer his queries intelligently. The woman leaves after a few floors without a word, giving your left nipple a tweak as she goes.

Arriving at the office, Mr. R. shows no sign of stopping and is soon finger-banging you at your desk in the middle of discussing a demanding client who's not generating income commensurate with the work required. Your team is already starting to arrive and you have no desire for them to see you being edged by the boss, so you use the same tactic that worked yesterday with Diana, Dave and Ibrahim. You offer him an orgasm.

Mr. R. is a married man, apparently devoted to his wife, but his predatory smile indicates that this is what he wanted all the time, probably due to the rule changes you made last night before bed. He promptly leads you into his office and bends you over the desk, dropping his trousers and fucking your soaking cunt a few times, before repositioning his moderately large manhood against the entrance to your back passage.

He turns out to be a man who likes variety, going from your rectum to your mouth with you on your knees (you're glad you spent extra time on your cleanliness this morning), back to your bottom with you on your back and your ankles on his shoulders, then your mouth upside down, your head hanging over the side of the desk, then your vagina again, before finally cumming up your bum. You're feeling dizzy with all the changes, but he seems fully satisfied, sending you off with a slap to the bottom, which makes you instinctively smile. Your whole team has arrived while you were otherwise engaged, even Dave, who's perennially on the verge of being late. You're sure they know what you've been doing in the boss's office, but nobody comments and you decide the best way to deal with your embarrassment is to start the morning briefing and hope you stop blushing eventually.

Unfortunately, your equilibrium is not helped when Peter pulls you over his knee by your nipple and starts spanking your buttocks firmly, cupping his hand to make the smacks really sting. They hurt almost as much as the belt did on the bus, but worse is when he stops periodically to caress your cheeks and check you're wet between your legs before continuing. It's a far cry from his hand off approach to you yesterday.

You have little choice but to conduct the meeting with your face inches from the floor, occasionally yelping when he hits a particularly tender spot. It's not exactly conducive to maintaining an impression of authority over proceedings, but everyone is respectful and you think everything's going as well as can be expected until a commotion causes a distraction.

Muffled screams are coming from the lift area, which become more pronounced when the doors open and a young Asian woman tumbles out, flanked by two men. She is wearing nothing except a harness of ropes tied tightly around her torso and also cinching her arms together behind her back so tightly her elbows are touching. It's difficult to see from your current vantage point, but it looks like the ropes are digging into her crotch so much they've disappeared into her lower folds. What really attracts your attention, though, is the fact that she's shrieking in laughter as the men with her tickle her breasts and genitals mercilessly. The girl is trying desperately to escape, but her bonds and the intensity of the tickling have left her helpless to resist.