You accept reluctantly

You hesitate, as the situation is not as black-and-white as the young blond painted it. Technically, you were rotating on the spot when you collided, not even walking, how can it be your fault? The knowledge of the Rulebook tells you that in a dispute as such one would first normally ask an independent witness to interfere and here there is one readily available, as the older lady is still on the bench and looking up from her tablet at the two of you. However, the witness would be expected to add a punishment of their own. If the blamed party still disagrees, there is an option to call for a full investigation, no matter how trivial the original incident if the disciplinary system is at stake. CCTV footage would be pulled, your bodies examined for prints and marks. However, if one takes it this far, the guilty party will get a severe judicial caning at the very least so very few cases ever end up like that.

You decide you cannot risk more severe consequences, though. Your bottom is far too sore, you still have a pending punishment, and you have a date planned. Best just get it over with. "Fine..." you say with a sigh. "How much for the coffee?" "One-twenty, I drank about half." replies the blond. You dig out two coins from your bag and pass them to her; she accepts the compensation with a satisfied nod. "Now, legs apart, stand straight, boobs out, clasp each elbow with the opposite palm behind your back." You obey, grimacing, feeling more embarrassed still which you did not think possible after what already happened today. The lady on the bench returns to typing, throwing you an occasional look.

The younger girl wipes her cup with a tissue which she disposes of and returns the branded rubber and plastic item into her rucksack. "Good." she remarks curtly noting your obedient position and lays her open palm onto your left boob. She must indeed be in a hurry as three slaps ring almost as one. You groan and sway but not far enough to avoid a solid connection on each smack. The tips of her fingers catch your nipple every time, leaving it more sore than you thought possible after such a brief hand spanking; you can also see a clear hand print on the spot she struck. She lines her palm up for the next three on your right boob and delivers them with the same brutal efficiency. This time you are more prepared for the fast pace and manage to stay still but it stings just as badly.

You do not leave your position even though the punishment should be over. The energetic blonde steps back and slides her rucksack off one shoulder, rummages in it and takes a card out which she passes to you. You take it relaxing, assuming this is a way of saying she is done. “If you feel that wasn’t enough or just want to meet up, give me a call. Bye!” And just like that, she rushes off. You take a look at the card which identifies your most recent spanker as Chloe Johnson, a junior research journalist in one of the nation’s leading papers. Damn, no wonder the girl is so burning with energy if she was able to get into such a place at her age.

You put her card into your back and start towards the cafe again; the lady watching the incident gives you a smile which you return. You have a feeling you will want to meet Chloe again, even though you will need to watch your step around her. Literally and figuratively. For now, though, you need to get going.