Meeting Her Match - Page 5

‘Good girl. Or rather, bad girl. Flaunting yourself in that bar and taking strange men home for kinky sex. You need a sound lesson, young lady. Believe me, your slutty behaviour will be dealt with.’

His hand felt harder, the smacks loud as pistol shots. Would the neighbours hear? I began to suffer a little, feeling the heat build.

When he stopped, after about fifty of these strokes, I flopped, exhaling deeply. But he had not finished, not by a long chalk.

‘I think we’ll have these knickers down now,’ he decreed.

With exquisite care and attention, he edged the barely-there lace down over my stinging hindquarters, making sure the elastic dragged, awakening little darts of extra sensation on the way. Down my thighs they travelled, only to be brought to a halt at the buffers of my suspender snaps. But that was far enough for Stuart’s purposes, and he left them there, moving his palms back up to rest briefly between my legs.

Oh yes! I wriggled welcomingly, hoping he would part those lips and dive in.

Instead, he dabbed his fingers in just enough to coat them in my scent, then moved back up to my warm pink bottom.

‘Dirty girl,’ he whispered. ‘You like being spanked, don’t you?’

‘No, sir, honestly!’ I protested, but I was caught red-handed. Or red-arsed.

‘Don’t lie!’ he said sharply, making my bottom feel the weight of his displeasure. ‘Lying will earn you extras with my belt, young lady.’

Oh, his belt! Leather, smooth and cold, the image of him unbuckling and snapping it through the air. I wanted to move my hand down to my clit at the thought, but he wouldn’t allow that.

‘Oh no, I would hate to be whipped with your belt!’ I moaned. ‘That’s a lie, by the way, sir.’

He wanted to laugh, I could tell, but he simply spanked me harder and faster, so that I jerked and squeaked about on his lap as if electrically shocked, his large hand covering every inch of skin from my stocking tops to the rounded crest of my bum until it all burned with uniform heat.

‘You have a lot to learn about submission,’ he informed me, smacking away merrily. ‘And it would be so much fun to teach you.’ I sensed a “but”, but I didn’t want to hear it, so I ignored it for the moment, preferring to focus on this gorgeous ocean wave of pleasure-pain.

‘No begging for mercy so far,’ he noted, giving his arm a rest. ‘You’re made for this. And so is your arse. Perfectly spankable.’

I felt like reminding him that my cunt was also perfectly fingerable and lickable and fuckable, should he choose to further his experimentation, but I didn’t want to lead the scene. Something told me that would be contrary to etiquette. So instead, I merely raised my hips and parted my thighs a little.

His hand began to slide, so slowly, so tantalisingly, down the crack of my bum and into that humid delta beyond. When it hit the swollen target of my clit, I gasped and jiggled furiously.

‘Have you never been spanked before?’ he asked, incredulous.

‘No. I’ve wanted to. But never had the nerve to ask, or bring the subject up.’

‘You need it so badly. You were built to be spanked. Every day, good and hard. Your arse just looks wrong unless it’s red.’

‘Oh, I know.’ His fingers were manipulating me with firm expertise, bringing me closer and closer to that ultimate surrender.

‘I don’t know what you do for a living, love, but I think you need to tell your boss, every day, that you can’t go home until he or she has spanked you hard, just the way you need it. Put you in the corner with your knickers down and your red bum out until the caretaker comes in to lock up.’

I was bucking now, so close, so close, but his words made me giggle amidst the pre-orgasmic groaning.

‘I work in a school,’ I told him.

‘Oh, interesting. So your headmaster might have one of those old school canes hiding in a cupboard somewhere. Six of the best would do you the world of good.’

‘Oh God, you’re evil, I’m going to come …’

He pulled his fingers out and I reached back blindly, trying to catch his arm.

‘Please!’

‘Not yet, you oversexed little brat. You have some business with my belt first.’

‘Oh, you’re so mean!’ I sounded like a child denied sweets, but I obeyed his command to stand up and get my pert red bottom over the arm of the sofa nonetheless.

Tags: Justine Elyot Erotic
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