You say goodnight and contact Amy instead

You're more than a bit surprised at how well the evening's gone and don't want to push your luck, so you give Julia a kiss on the cheek and say goodbye, planning to pay a call on her at work tomorrow. Returning to the cab, you give the driver your address and suffer a moment of irrational panic at the thought that thanks to your machinations with the Rulebook you may not actually live there after all. A quick check of your driving licence confirms that your place of residence is unchanged though and you're able to relax for the rest of the short journey.

The only problem is that you're still horny from your unexpectedly sexy date. Before today, being frustrated by the lack of sex with a beautiful woman would just be something you'd have to accept, but now things have changed in so many ways, why not this, too? Almost without thinking, you bring up the details of the waitress whose number you took earlier and snap off a text asking her to call you when she finishes her shift. You finish just as the taxi pulls up outside your house and after you pay the driver and leave the vehicle, it departs without delay. Taking your keys from your pocket, you walk up the path to your front door, glad to be home.

You switch on the lights to find the hall much as you remember, a bit cleaner and tidier, perhaps, but otherwise unchanged. You decide to watch television in the drawing room whilst waiting for Amy to reply, but as soon as you sit down, you see a beautifully handwritten note on the coffee table:

Professor,
I've cleaned the house and tidied the garden,
but if there's anything else I can do for you tonight,
please don't hesitate to call me.
Imogen. xx❤ xx

The message seems a little too personal for a student to her supervisor and you make a mental note to nip it in the bud if she's starting to develop a crush on you. Belatedly, you notice that the curtains and blinds are closed, although you'd have opened them before leaving for work this morning, and the kitchen is spotless, your possessions free of dust and dirt. Postponing your viewing pleasure for the moment, you decide to check what other changes having a grad-student acting as an unofficial maid may have caused, beginning systematically with the cellar.

Formerly used solely for storage, your cellar is now dry and clean, with a rough concrete floor and unplastered, whitewashed walls. There are doors at both the top and the bottom of the stairs (the one at the bottom is new, or at least new to you), making the room effectively soundproof and electrical cables have been tacked to the walls, leading to a pair of powerful wall lights, which illuminate the room with a harsh white glare. The jumble of boxes that you're used to seeing on the rare occasions you come down here have been neatly stacked next to the walls, to make room for a sturdy wooden whipping post, bolted firmly to the floor, apparently for when you decide to inflict a punishment so severe that the recipient can't be expected to submit without disturbing the neighbours. Hopefully Amy won't be spending any time down here tonight!

You make your way back upstairs and find that the ground floor has undergone no such reconfiguration, then continue upwards. Again, the place is a bit tidier and cleaner than you're used to, especially in the bathroom, but the only major change is in your bedroom, where you find a cabinet containing all manner of spanking accoutrements and even some bondage gear, which you find a little worrying given that you're single. Still, it might come in handy if you can persuade the svelte brunette from the restaurant to come over tonight for a bit of fun and games. The covers on the bed are also freshly laundered, which will save embarrassment, whatever woman you manage to get up here.

You're about to go back downstairs when your mobile rings and you pick up to hear Amy's dulcet tones. She tells you that she's finished for the night and is just about to leave work, so you ask whether she'd like to come over to your place so that you can have a chat about university life and maybe get to know her a bit better. She says she'll tell her parents not to expect her home tonight as she's meeting a professor from the university, leaving no doubt that she knows what you want from her and you agree to text her your address.

You slip into something more comfortable and saunter back downstairs to await her arrival, finally getting around to flicking on the box to see what's been happening in the world. You don't notice any major changes on screen; all the female presenters are over thirty and none of the reports are spanking related, so you don't suppose this is surprising. The weather report is in the middle of confirming that tomorrow is predicted to be another fine day, when your doorbell rings and you turn off the set and virtually sprint to admit your guest.

Amy looks even prettier than before, standing smiling in your doorway in her dainty cycle helmet and high visibility jacket, but she's changed out of her waitress's uniform into jeans and trainers, which are definitely less alluring. You give her the key to your gate and tell her to leave her bike in the alley, her coat on the coat rack inside your door and her shoes, helmet and the rest of her clothes on the console table beneath it.

She makes no reply beyond a quick "Yes, sir, thank-you, sir," so you don't know whether she really took in that last part, but when she comes back without the bike, she begins to strip down without demur, first headgear, then jacket, trainers and low-cut socks, your key still held in her left hand.

You close the door behind her and take the key off her to make it easier for her to finish getting undressed, tossing it into the dish you keep on the console for that purpose. She flashes you a smile of gratitude, turning to face you as she undoes her skinny jeans and starts to shimmy out of them.

"Are you a naturist, too, then, sir?" she asks ingenuously.

"Er, no, not exactly," you manage to cover your surprise with some difficulty. "I just don't see much point in wearing clothes when we're indoors with the curtains closed."

She nods, apparently seeing the sense in this, despite the obvious logical flaws. "We hardly ever wear clothes on the farm, indoors or out—did you know my parents own a city farm?" You shake your head, but she's already continuing as she neatly folds her trousers and pulls her taupe T-shirt up and off, revealing an orange sports bra which soon goes the same way: "Yes, I've always loved helping out with the animals and it's much easier to get clean afterwards if you're not wearing anything. So, what are we going to do first, sir?"

Now completely naked and seemingly uninhibited, Amy's slender form is revealed to have the same deep tan as her face—and what a delectable form it is. You were planning to chat for a while before turning to more carnal matters, but your body has other ideas, your erection threatening to pop out of your dressing gown prematurely.

"Why don't we have sex?"

"Oh, I'd like that—I really need the experience if I'm going to be able to tip well—but I'm not sure I'll be very good. I'd never actually gone all the way before this afternoon…"

"What happened this afternoon?" you ask, even as the answer hits you.

"My English teacher said I deserved a spanking for a few things I'd done wrong since my assessment, but he hadn't punished me for them at the time, because he thought I was still too sore, but now he thought I was better, so he gave me a right hiding and had me tip him with sex…then my eye see tee teacher did the same thing a couple of hours later…and then my boss at the restaurant did the same thing, too."

"Can you think of any reason they all waited until today to give you the thrashings you deserved?"

"Well, I mean, it must be the new tipping rules, mustn't it? I'm not saying they wouldn't have spanked me eventually! It's just, they're busy men and have better things to do, but the tipping rules give them an incentive…which is good, right, because it means we girls get the discipline we need?"

"It's very good. Did they all want the same type of sex?"

"Yep, straight doggy style and then a blowjob—I'm good at those, I've had loads of practice with my boyfriend."

You mentally file away the information that she has a boyfriend that she's gone down on loads of times, but never slept with and that she wants to practise having sex with you instead of (or at least as well as) him, then say:

"Well, don't worry, I'll help teach you to please a man and punish you severely until you learn."

"Oh…thank-you, sir. That's…very kind of you."