Friday, March 16, 2012
When Alice Porter finds a chest full of vintage curiosa at an antique market, she little realizes how her discovery of the forgotten treasures of an Edwardian disciplinarian will change her life. The sexy hoard includes a punishment ledger and a well used rattan cane, and the bygone items intrigue her husband Julian too.
Sharing and experimenting with the writings and the wicked implement, the lovers begin a voyage of forbidden sensuality that shocks and thrills them both, revealing dark secrets from Julian's past and bringing the two of them closer together than they've ever been before.
You have done this before, haven't you?
For a moment, Alice was distracted, unfocused. Who was the woman? Who had he punished?
Then Julian stroked the inside of her wrist with a fingertip, making everything right again, with a secret touch hidden in the game. He was with her now. He'd always be with her. This was what mattered, not the past.
Feeling as ungainly and gangling as a naughty, coltish girl, Alice did her best to obey him, almost tripping over the tangled clothing around her ankles. When she did get settled, she had the most precarious fear that she was going to topple head first off her husband's lap and onto the carpet. But instead, he held her firmly with a securing hand on her back, whilst presumably he studied the contours of her bottom.
"Ready then?" Both voice and fingertips were gentle as they cruised her bare skin. His exploration made her quiver again. "Do you understand why I have to do this?"
It was as if they were performing a ritual, each in their role, each serious, but also humming with desire. Alice nodded, and muttered a "yes", while her heart pounded and her mind filling with a very complex understanding indeed, a comprehension that went far beyond the simple shadow-play of punishment for misbehavior.
"Ouch!" she yelped as the first smack fell on her right buttock, and all her preconceptions about what it might have felt like came crashing down with Julian's hand.
Bloody hell, it hurts. It really hurts. I thought it was just going to feel like a gentle tap.
Moisture filled her eyes as a second, even crisper blow landed. Involuntarily, she groaned, squirming and shuffling on Julian's lap.
Dear God, how it smarted. How it stung. As more smacks descended in a fast and steady rhythm, it didn't take long before all of Alice's cheeks were flaming. Her dangling face was pink as a peony with a blend of embarrassment and excitement, and her bottom was so hot and throbbing that she was sure its entire surface was red and blotchy.
How have you learnt to do this? You must have picked it up somewhere. Don't tell me it's pure instinct. You know this.
The thoughts bobbed in her brain as her husband belabored her with skill and vigor. He was patterning the spanks around her cheeks, forming meticulous, overlapping circles and leaving no inch of flesh free of their fiery coverage. It was a master class and when her buttocks were pink and roasted, he tipped her body further forward and then aimed a volley of intensive wallops at the delicate under-hang; a zone so tender and thin‑skinned that it made her squeal in a way that she would have found hilarious in some other circumstance.
"Now, now, my dearest," Julian said, his voice sounding like the very essence of Edwardian authority as he continued to spank and spank and spank, "Don't make such a fuss. This is good for you, you know."
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