My girlfriend, Lana, came home about a year ago with the news that her job was sending her to Seattle to help open a new store. Lana is actually from Seattle, so she was pretty excited. Ever since we met, she’s talked about the Emerald City and how great it is up there. I had plenty of leave, so I suggested I go with her and make the trip a working vacation. That would let her show me around her old stomping grounds.

The minute we got into town, I saw a change in Lana. She’s 28, petite and sexy, with a mane of jet-black hair she inherited from her Vietnamese mother. Since moving to L.A. to be with me, she’s focused mostly on her work, displaying a super serious side. However, she has a naturally dominant, competitive streak that makes her a hell of a lot of fun in the bedroom. I was looking forward to watching her let her hair down on her home turf.

One of the first stops on our tour was a bar on the Ave, as the main drag near the University of Washington is called. The street is lined with bars, hole-in-the-wall restaurants and funky little shops. I wouldn’t say pool is the city’s favorite sport, but they do play a lot of pool there, and Lana has some pretty formidable skills in that area.

The first place we went to, in fact, was the very bar where she’d learned to play. The place was crowded full of university students and had several pool tables in back, one of which was unused. Lana wasted no time getting down to business. I watched her kick off her shoes and begin chalking up a cue, stalking around the table like a panther hunting its prey.

The bar’s patrons were keeping an eye on her as well, no doubt wondering who this hot Asian gal was. I just sat back with my beer, grinning. I had seen Lana play plenty of times, and I already knew where this was headed. Sure enough, it didn’t take long for a young guy to come sauntering up and challenge Lana to a game. He was good-looking, with long shaggy hair and a cocky swagger — I think his name was Jackson. Lana accepted immediately, but first she had a rule or two to lay down.

“OK, when I used to play here,” she said, smiling as the kid racked up the balls, “they had a rule. Loser got a spanking.”

“What?” Jackson laughed. I was a little surprised myself, but I have to admit, my surprise quickly gave way to arousal. I was more than a little turned on by the prospect of watching my girlfriend dominate this arrogant, young guy.

“You heard me,” Lana said. “Loser takes down his or her pants and the winner gives ’em a good old-fashioned butt-warming. Unless you’re scared, of course.”

By now, a number of girls had come around the table and had gotten an earful of Lana’s spanking challenge. Unsurprisingly, they loved the idea — I don’t know for sure, but I gathered several of them had dated Jackson and hadn’t been left with a very good opinion of him. In a matter of minutes, they had the male spectators outnumbered. All of the girls were cheering on Lana and begging her to kick the kid’s ass.

Well, the game didn’t take very long to play out. In a matter of minutes Lana had sank all her balls, then deftly sent the eight ball spiraling into a side pocket.

“All right,” she said, grinning as her new fan club applauded her. “Let’s see those cheeks! I’m about to turn ’em red.”

Jackson was pouting just a little, but to his credit, he didn’t try to welch on the deal. I don’t know if he was a true submissive, but he looked like he was a little turned on himself. He pulled down his jeans and stood with his back to Lana. He was wearing a fresh pair of tighty-whities that showed off the roundness of his ass, much to the girls’ delight.

“All right, cutie,” Lana said, leaning on her cue and sizing up his butt. “I’ll tell you one thing,” she explained, winking at the cheering girls, “this is gonna hurt you more than it hurts me. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before you challenge Princess Lana.”

With that, she grabbed hold of Jackson’s shoulder to steady herself, yanked down his underwear and began swatting away at his ass. I think I’ve already mentioned that Lana is fairly petite, but she works out regularly, and she’s no creampuff. A big, gloating grin spread across her pixie-like face as her open palm slammed again and again into Jackson’s butt.

With every slap, Jackson cried out. I think he was fooling around at first, but within minutes there was a note of real surprise in his trembling voice. He actually had to grab hold of the pool table to keep his balance.

“Ow! Ow, man, c’mon! That’s enough!”

“Oooh, baby’s got a tender bottom,” Lana said with a giggle. “Think he’s had enough, girls? I’d hate to make baby cry!”

The girls cooed and snickered. Poor Jackson’s rear had gone bright red, and his face wore an expression that was half excitement and half confusion. Looking back on that evening, I’d say Jackson was, in fact, a true sub; he just didn’t know it yet. Certainly, he wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with the situation. Lana made him buy her a beer before she let him go, and when he did, he fled for the safety of the Ave like a startled rabbit fleeing from a hungry predator.

I went over to offer Lana my congratulations. By that point, she was holding court for her admirers, accepting offerings of cigarettes and shooters. The girls absolutely adored her, not that I blamed them — she was definitely the coolest chick among them. I had a feeling Lana would find it difficult to go back to her job after this.

“So how about you?” one of the girls — a cute young redhead — asked me.

“I beg your pardon?” I blinked. By now, they understood Lana and I were together, and I guess they were anxious to get my measure. I couldn’t exactly blame them. After all, they wouldn’t want their idol to end up with a dud.

“Does she spank you, too?” another girl asked coyly — this one a diminutive blonde with round-rimmed glasses. They turned to Lana, and she winked at them.

“Only when he needs it,” she said.

But that wasn’t enough for the girls. They were drawing closer to me, giggling, and I had the oddest feeling that if I were to try to leave, they wouldn’t have let me. I should mention — in case you haven’t already realized it — that unlike Jackson, I have no problem at all with the attention of dominant women. Lana’s fan club delighted me, and I could tell they meant to be playful rather than threatening, but they did make me just a wee bit nervous.

“I wanna see you spank him,” the little blonde said suddenly, licking the salty rim of her margarita glass.

“Me, too,” put in an Indian girl with a sleek black braid that hung to her waist. “Do you think he’ll fuss like Jackson?” 

“I hope so,” the redhead snickered, and she actually gave my ass a little swat. I jerked up on my toes, startled, and that had the entire coven giggling.

“Hey,” Lana said with a frown. “He’s mine, you know. I don’t mind sharing a little, but only a little, OK?”

The girls apologized, but repeatedly said they really wanted to see Lana spank me. She caught my eye and, lifting her glass to her lips, murmured, “Do you mind?”

I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but by then I was carrying a pretty hardcore erection. The thought of Lana spanking me in front of those girls was humiliating, but also delicious.

“I’d hate to deprive a new generation of such a valuable lesson,” I said.

Lana hoisted her small body up onto a barstool and patted her lap. “C’mon, then,” she said, her voice playfully stern. A second later, she dropped me the hottest wink imaginable and added, “Come get some, bad boy!”

I leaned over, and before I quite knew what was happening, she had me across her lap. I very nearly lost my balance and went down nose-first, but Lana got me straightened out, giggling more like a schoolgirl than a domme. The hand she applied to the seat of my jeans was another matter, though. Most people just laugh when they hear about spanking as sex play. They don’t really understand how powerful an experience it can be. Lana spanked me with a surprising strength, sending shock waves from my ass all the way up my spine.

I actually cried out — not as loud as Jackson had, but with the same startled intensity. My aching crotch pushed against the warmth of Lana’s legs, again and then again, until I was half-surprised I didn’t shoot my load then and there.

The girls, naturally, laughed and squealed with delight, but they also devoured the spectacle of my predicament with erotic curiosity. More than a few of them had to have wet panties.

And speaking of wet pants, I wasn’t doing so hot in that department myself. I had escaped the embarrassment of shooting my load as she warmed my rear, but I had built up an impressive helping of pre-come. I could feel it smearing against my underwear as my crotch ground helplessly into Lana’s lap.

“Oh my God,” the blonde cried out. “Look at him humping her!”

“Don’t you worry about him,” Lana told her, effortlessly keeping up the rhythm of the spanking. “He knows his place.”

She ended my “humiliation” not long after that, fortunately. Otherwise I might have seriously embarrassed myself. My ordeal wasn’t over, though. We said goodbye to our new young friends not long afterward, and then we made our way back to our hotel for some rest. But we didn’t actually go to sleep.

Soon Lana and I found ourselves curled up naked in each other’s arms.

“Did you enjoy that?” she purred reaching between my legs and stroking my once again stiffened manhood. “A whole mob of amazons watching me claim you as my own.” She leaned up, biting and sucking at my earlobe. “I want you,” she told me. A moment later, she had me, as I slid my cock into her wet, waiting pussy. After the teasing I’d been given, the release was delicious — for both of us.

Lana was already whispering plans for the next day into my ear. It seemed there was another bar with really excellent pool tables down in the International District.

I couldn’t wait.