It took Keith less than a week to get into trouble with me. He obviously needed to test the waters, and he was hovering between curiosity and anxiety about what he had let himself into, what he had agreed to. And only he could decide if he had made the right decision.

The phone jerked me awake in the middle of the night and I grabbed at the bedside clock. It was two in the morning. ‘… ello…’ I croaked.

‘Dusty?’

I sat up immediately. ‘Keith? What’s the matter, darling?’

‘Can you come get me, please …?’ he whispered pathetically.

‘Where are you, darling? Are you hurt? Where are you?’ I was trying to keep calm though horrible images were springing up in my mind.

‘I’m at Jone’s.’

‘Jones!’ I bit my tongue and said as calmly as possible. ‘Ok, wait there for me. I will be about twenty minutes.’ At that time of night, I could probably make it in fifteen!

Jone’s was a popular night spot for the young and restless and not so bright. It made a habit of opening beyond the legal operating hours and employed hefty bouncers to keep bar brawls at bay. If Keith wanted to find trouble, he could not have picked a better spot.

I arrived to find my Brat huddled over, pale and shivering, and horribly sick. I waited till he had cleared out his stomach contents before bundling him into the backseat of my car. I decided to take him home to my place. He began moaning halfway home, obviously about to be sick again. I had forgotten to arm myself with a pail, so I told him sharply to hold it in, and thankfully turned into my driveway a few minutes later.

Nothing much could be achieved that night, so I let him sleep it off after he had thrown up again in the bathroom. I woke up a few hours later, went downstairs to prepare a pot of coffee, then left a message in Marlee’s voicemail that I would be taking the day off. I then settled down to figure out exactly how to handle Keith’s little drama.

When he had sobered enough to pay full attention – which was after a very cold shower and several cups of strong coffee – I sat him down. For once, he did not argue or protest. He peeped at me a few times but mostly maintained silence throughout my entire lecture. No excuses, no objections, no whines. His head shot up when I asked him if he remembered what we had discussed. With a quick intake of breath, he nodded his head.

‘OK then, I want you to go upstairs, and wait for me.’

I saw the panic in his blue eyes and made my voice firmer. ‘Now, Keith. Do as you are told.’

That centered him. He got to his feet and walked to the stairs woodenly. He cast one backward glance at me, saw me nod at him, and continued his way up. I gave him about ten minutes alone, as much for him to be prepared as for me to steel myself for the impending chastisement. I had had plenty of practice disciplining Shaun and Brad when they were in my care but this was different. I did not make a habit of spanking any of my boyfriend’s bottoms before although I had learnt the rudiments of how it worked from my friend John – who not only believed strongly in a discipline relationship but also practised it. John had remarked often enough how beneficial it would be for someone with Keith’s temperament to live within such a structure.

Our eyes met as I entered the bedroom ten minutes later, his clearly beseeching and mine deadly serious. The ten minutes had helped me come to terms with what needed to be done. Keith had deliberately set this up, whether he realized it or not, and I was not about to disappoint him. Seeing his nervousness, I lost mine, and drew him into my arms and hugged him tight.

He was trembling and I whispered against his ear. ‘Baby, its gonna be ok. Just listen to me and do as you are told. That’s all you need to worry about.’

He nodded his head, closing his eyes tightly but clung on to me when I tried to release him. ‘No, wait please,’ he whispered, laying his forehead against mine.

Firmly, I pried his hands off. I reached down, unbuttoned his jeans briskly and pushed them down together with his underwear. He gave a strangled protest and his face flamed.

‘Please …’ he whispered again, trying desperately to hold on to his underwear but I slapped his hands away and ignored his pleas.

He settled stiffly into position when I pulled him over my lap. He immediately buried his face into the coverlet. I looked down at the firm upturned cheeks and a wave of protectiveness and tenderness washed over me. I rubbed his bottom gently when I felt him quiver.

‘Keith, were my expectations clear to you?’

I saw him nod once.

‘Good. Let me repeat. You do not go out and drink on your own.’

‘Yes, I know!’

‘We agreed you wouldn’t get drunk again. You broke a rule! You disobeyed me! This is what’s going to happen when you disobey me. Every single time! Is that clear?’

He nodded his head again, his face still hidden. His voice was muffled. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Good,’ I said, and then I spanked him.

* * *