Читать книгу Shadow Lane Volume 8: The Spanking Libertines A Novel of Spanking, Sex and Romance - Eve Howard - Страница 9
ОглавлениеChapter Two Lupe’s Latin Lovers
“That was quite a story you wrote about our party for the paper,” Lupe Freeman accused Hector Green, dropping into a chair opposite him at the Vassar canteen.
Like Lupe, Hector was an arresting parfait of Latin and European influences, but this did not dispose her in his favor as much as it might have done before reading his article, which had reported, (with undue sensationalism), on a small, well behaved B&D play party, hosted by her best friend Diana and herself.
“You didn’t like it?” he murmured in the accents of Manhattan, not looking up from his laptop.
“Were you even at the party?”
“I came late,” he snapped, looking at her for the first time and then regretting his curtness.
“I’ll bet.”
“So, what didn’t you like?” Sudden arousal rendered his whole demeanor soft and conciliatory.
“You invoked the whips and chains cliché, yet there wasn’t a whip or a chain in the house. Is it possible that in your stupendous ignorance you actually don’t know the difference between a flogger and a crop?”
“Teach me!” Hector flashed her his most persuasive smile.
“Highly unlikely,” she replied, getting up, “but I will say this: You write badly enough to work for my father.”
“Really? Who’s your father?” Hector zipped his laptop into its case and followed her out of the Retreat and into the corridors of Vassar’s oldest dorm, Main Hall, erected in 1865, in replication of the Tulleries.
“Ron Freeman,” she replied.
“Really! This is an honor.”
With Hector adhering to her, Lupe walked one flight up to the Blue parlor.
“I figured you’d admire my father.”
“So, you don’t like my journalistic style?”
“I do not.”
“What’s your name?”
“Lupe.”
“Where did you get that name?”
“My mother is Mexican. Saturnia X. I’m sure you’ve heard of her.”
“The sexual performance artist from the 80’s? You have some lineage. From you I will stand corrected.”
“Good.”
“You say that on a dismissive note,” Hector said, allowing her to precede him into the graceful room.
“Good day, Mr. Green.” Lupe sat down on a vine carved loveseat and opened a hardbound volume of Samuel Richardson’s Pamela.
“Don’t be like that,” he urged, sitting beside her. “Meeting you, I want to learn to be kinky.”
“You’re making me sick.”
“Lupe, be nice,” he scolded her, “after all, we have so much in common.”
“What?” She stared at him.
“Well, I’m half Puerto Rican to your half Mexican.”
“That’s sexy, but not necessarily the basis for intimacy. And here’s my friend, so I hope you’ll excuse us,” said Lupe, seeing Diana enter the room.
“Please make Lupe tell me what she’s into,” Hector implored the slender brunette who now joined them.
“Who are you?” the new petite girl asked, perching on a chair opposite them and noticing the devastating contrast between Hector’s tawny hazel eyes, golden brown skin and jet-black hair.
“Don’t talk to him,” advised Lupe, getting to her feet, “he’s that tabloid journalist who writes for the Vassarian. Now with a hard-on.”
“The muckraker who mocked our party? How dare you address us?” Diana tossed him a censorious glance before following Lupe out.
But Hector didn’t give up easily and sensing a tendency in Diana to accommodate, he sat down opposite her in the dining hall the first time he saw her alone.
“Hello. Remember me?” he reached over the table to shake her small hand. She smiled at him briefly then went back to working her Saturday New York Times crossword puzzle. “Won’t you help me with our Lupe, kind and beautiful Diana?”
“Help you do what?”
“Get her into bed.”
“Why should I do that?”
“Because I’m smitten. She’s so Latin, yet so white, just like me. Her father is my publishing idol and her mother is a goddess of porn punk. We’re so compatible I’m picking out china.”
“She already has quite a serviceable boyfriend, Mr. Clarence Gerard.”
“Oh. Him!” Hector received this news gloomily.
“I’m sorry.”
“The fact that the odds are against me only makes me more eager to try.”
Diana shrugged.
“If you’d tell me what she’s into, I’m sure it would help,” he urged seductively. As lightning flashed and thunder pealed outside the panoramic windows of the dining hall, Diana nearly succumbed, but the clatter of the chilly Autumn downpour woke her to her first loyalties.
“Even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand what it meant or how to use it.”
“Why not? Give me some credit for brains. I am here on full scholarship.”
“Then shouldn’t you be studying?”
“Just tell me what makes Lupe Freeman tick.”
“If Clarence Gerard found out for himself so can you.”
“You see if I don’t!”
Meanwhile, Lupe had dedicated the weekend to Xavier Duarte, the powerfully attractive young male who had slipped his phone number into her hand as she stood penitently in the corner at The Vault the previous week. They had spoken on the phone only once but e-mailed several times since their brief moment of eye contact in that notorious B&D hell mouth. Finally intrigued beyond bearing, she had agreed to go down to the city to meet him, partially in the spirit of adventure, and partially to arouse the jealousy of Clarence Gerard.
Xavier, in the light of day, was closer to thirty than twenty, moodily stern and inclined to take himself too seriously for Lupe’s irreverence. He was however, a respectable commercial artist with bold instincts on the use of interior paint and a leather massage table. Lupe learned, as she sipped his thick espresso, that he was half Columbian, half Argentine and a “master”.
And as such, Xavier began to express what Lupe considered to be an inordinate degree of disappointment at the fact that she had arrived dressed in preppy woolens rather than fetish skins.
“Why aren’t you in leather, as I saw you at the Vault?” he demanded with the slightest of accents.
Rendered momentarily speechless by his toxic reaction to her dove grey sweater set and dark grey wool tweed straight skirt, she simply stared at him and wondered, “Is this a lunatic I see before me?” Eyeing her reflection in a beautifully chased gold and black-rimmed mirror across the room she could find no fault with her appearance, even after two hours on the train.
“I should have known you had the instincts of a tourist when I saw you let a white boy in a ruffled shirt and ponytail top you!”
Lupe gazed at him with wide eyes. Only common courtesy and the fact that he bore a happy resemblance to Jimmy Smits prevented her from telling him exactly what she thought of his Neolithicism.
“If you’re displeased with me I’ll go,” she announced indifferently, rising to her full majestic height of 5’3”.
“You’ll go when I tell you to.”
“Mr. Duarte, I came all the way from Poughkeepsie. You could at least be civil,” she retorted, though lighting his cigarette. Their dark eyes met above the flame and a dart pierced her tummy. Xavier was quite the older man and being one hundred per cent Latin wasn’t hurting his case.
Astonished at her confidence, Xavier dropped all pretensions to proper B&D protocol and demanded, “Lupe, are you submissive or aren’t you? When I saw you at the Vault – ”
“I was meek and mild. But I’d just been spanked,” she pouted.
“I missed that part. I just saw you standing there.”
“Did you think I was some sort of slave?”
“You gave that impression.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“Well, what are you about?”
“Spanking, just spanking,” Lupe explained succinctly.
“So you like to be spanked?”
“I wouldn’t say I like it. It’s been more like a lifelong obsession and the absolute core of my sexuality.”
“Just like a naughty little girl?”
“Yes,” she said, blushing.
“But other things besides spanking can happen to bad little girls. Invasive, humiliating things,” he suggested, smart enough to soften his tone.
“Well, I’m not a child. I’m eighteen, so if they’re safe and not terribly severe, other things can happen,” she granted.
Xavier crossed the enormous studio to the quadrant of his bedroom, where the dresser top yielded a solid wooden hairbrush, which he brought straight back to her. As the afternoon waned, sheets of heavy rain darkened the leaf-blown skylights.
Xavier took her across his knee in the proper manner, held her firmly, began with circumspection and followed through with expertise. The spanking lasted almost an hour in its various stages, during which Lupe became predictably inflamed. The consummation lasted only half as long. Then they had more coffee and cigarettes.
They went down to Greenwich Village for Indian food and to purchase a flogger. Although she was enjoying herself, pangs of guilt began to grip her stomach as she remembered that she hadn’t told Clarence she would be off campus that night.
She meant to call as soon as they returned to the loft, but Xavier initiated another scene immediately and Lupe, craving the feel of the soft leather whip gave in, allowing him to bend her over the edge of his massage table and flog her, then stretch her out across its length on her tummy for an even longer session with a leather strap. Xavier looked so handsomely masterful in his black jeans and muscle shirt that every time she turned her head to watch him a spasm of excitement gripped her.
A subtle practitioner, Xavier had a mirror set in the wall opposite the principal play space which allowed her to view the entire scene. Watching herself being disciplined for the first time in her life Lupe realized with a shock just how perfectly this position suited her. She looked so cute that she wished Clarence could see her. But this reflection reminded her of her guilt and she suddenly found it impossible to concentrate.
She asked for a break. Xavier made coffee while she checked her e-mail. Immediately she logged on her heart jumped. There was an email from Diana.
“Girlfriend! You were supposed to call me. You also forgot to leave the gentleman’s number. Or address. Nor did you let me know when you planned to get back.
Hector and I have been worrying about you all day. And what shall I tell Clarence?”
Lupe logged off and called Diana, who picked up her dorm room phone at once.
“Yes?”
“I’m fine,” Lupe said, with an accelerated heartbeat, “but why is Hector in on this?”
“Oh, Hector isn’t so bad,” Diana reassured her friend while smiling over at Hector, who was curled up in her window seat keeping her company that rainy Saturday evening while Carl-Adam was cramming for a mid-term. “Is Mr. Duarte nice?”
“Quite nice.”
“Will you be returning to us this evening?”
“The last train may have left. I’ll have to catch the first one in the morning.”
“What shall we tell Clarence?”
“We?”
“No doubt Hector will be with me when we encounter that gentleman.”
“Just plead ignorance.”
“Hector wants to say hi,” said Diana, handing the phone to him.
“Hello. I’ve somehow managed to endear myself to your friend,” Hector admitted.
“I’ve underestimated you.”
“Conciliatory, aren’t we?”
“Why not?”
“Are you enjoying yourself with that dangerous drug dealer?”
“Every Columbian isn’t a drug dealer.”
“I’m deeply hurt, Lupe, that you would place yourself in the hands of some South of the Border Sheik when a nice, well-brought up Puerto Rican boy from New York is ready to adore you.”
“Hector, what’s your point?”
“I guess the last thing in the world you want now is Clarence finding out what a sleazy adventure you’ve been having.”
“Hector, you’d tell Clarence?”
“Of course not.”
“Thank you!”
“You’re welcome. Now when may I have my way with you?”
“Never.”
“Then I’ll tell on you.”
“I see the tabloid lifestyle is already in your blood.”
“Lupe, meet me in the city tomorrow.”
Lupe mused to herself, “Can I go from one man’s arms straight to another’s, and then when I get back to school, to yet another’s?” At length she replied, “I’ll be waiting for you at the boathouse in Central Park at three tomorrow afternoon.”
Except for the guilt, Lupe enjoyed her night of sleeping with a sophisticated adult male in his loft. Lupe liked Xavier without ever needing to see him again.
Additionally, she had no intention of meeting Hector in Central Park. She took the two-fifteen back to Poughkeepsie, eager to return to her room, change her clothes and find her Clarence.
“That will teach you to blackmail girls,” she thought to herself, settling into her window seat on the train and pulling Pamela out of her bag.
“So you thought you’d stand me up!” came a voice from above as Hector slipped into the seat opposite her.
“Oh my god,” Lupe breathed, extremely impressed. “I have underestimated you!”
“Prudent of you to have called Diana back with Mr. Duarte’s address. Happily, I was there when she took the information down and copying it only seemed like good sense to both of us. I’ve actually been keeping my eye on you all morning. When you got into a cab and told the driver Penn Station I saw my work cut out for me.”
“If you’re training for your career with the National Enquirer, you’re doing well. You already appear to be a practiced stalker.”
“I prefer to think of myself as a romantic.”
“Hector, I already have a boyfriend.”
“You also have a lover. Mr. Duarte.”
“Please don’t say that. What happened last night was a brief B&D adventure, never to be repeated.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Hector, why have you fixated on me? Why didn’t you move in on Diana while you had the opportunity?”
“What makes you think I didn’t?”
“Well, did you or didn’t you?”
“Did I or didn’t I what?”
“Play with Diana?”
“Diana is so sweet.”
“Oh, you barely know her.”
“I wish you were more like her.”
“Since you two are getting along so well, you don’t need me, do you?”
“I need you more than ever.”
“Look, I’m not even sure that I like you.”
“Did you like Mr. Duarte?”
“At least he knew what he was doing.”
“And you don’t think I do?”
“I know you don’t. How could you? You don’t have the slightest idea.”
“You go on thinking that.”
“Hector, you have to stop. It’s not funny any more!”
“Calm down.”
“I won’t be coerced into intimacy.”
“I understand,” Hector replied gravely, startled by her sudden anger. “I went too far. I’m sorry.”
“You really have to back off.”
“I’ll do that, Lupe,” he assured her, his heart pounding.
“You might grow on me in time,” she added with a smile. “I’m not ruling out the possibility.”
“Thank you!” Hector beamed.
“Maybe we can study together sometime. Or take a walk to the Cider Mill.”
“I’ll take you up on both.”
When their taxi disgorged Lupe and Hector in front of Cushing several hours later, Clarence Gerard was there to wonder at the sight.
“Lupe!”
“Clarence, hi.”
“Don’t forget about our study date,” said Hector, heading off toward Jocelyn dorm.
“You have a study date with Hector Green?” Lupe’s lover demanded, grabbing her overnight duffel and carrying it into their dorm.
“I vaguely committed to one,” she explained, following him upstairs.
“What were you doing together?”
“We just happened to take the same train back from the city.”
“Oh? You weren’t with him this weekend?”
“No, Clarence.”
“What were you doing in the city, anyway? You never told me you were going to the city.”
“Is that a hint of reproach?” Lupe opened the door to her room and they entered.
“I simply have the sudden and definite feeling that you were up to no good this weekend without me,” Clarence declared. When Lupe merely blushed he became more concerned. “Well? Am I going to have to beat it out of you?”
“I guess I had a sort of adventure,” she began. Then it all came out, because it was much too exciting a secret for a young girl to keep.
Clarence listened, pacing with folded arms. When she had finished describing her scene with Xavier Duarte in detail Clarence turned on her with blazing eyes.
“So that’s what you call being my girlfriend, is it?” Then he slammed out of the room.
Thus began a period of frost that lasted nearly a week as Clarence went about the campus and environs, steadfastly ignoring Lupe, no matter how affectingly she strove to catch his eye and in spite of how charming she looked in a whole new set of woolen skirts and sweaters.
Lupe’s pain was unremitting and her despondency grew by the day as she observed Clarence escort Meredith Pels, his leading lady in The Rivals, to local taverns and the dining hall. She was a tall, willowy, deep bosomed, blonde senior who radiated political correctness from every vegetarian pore. Off-stage she wore no makeup, dressed virtually in boy’s clothes and barely even seemed to comb her hair, yet she was a goddess and this was known to all, except herself. All of which gave no comfort the petite brunette.
After two days had passed Lupe left a note in Clarence’s mail slot. “Can’t we talk?” it had pathetically beseeched him. The missive was ignored. Meanwhile, Lupe cried herself sick, stopped eating, dressed in black and for a period of more than 24 hours, did not bathe. Losing interest in everything but her grief (and the novel Pamela) Lupe barely noticed or attempted to discourage the constant presence of Hector by her side. He was happy to be used as a sounding board, to furnish a shoulder to cry on, and revile the name of Clarence Gerard whenever it was spoken. But the afternoon she wore a grey shirt with a black jacket and trousers and forgot to shower, her fascination was too great to resist and he nearly attacked her in her room, begging her to surrender to his need with greater vehemence than it was in her power to repel in her weakened emotional state.
“Do what ever you like, I don’t care,” she sighed, laying back on her bed and gazing out at the slate grey sky through the mullioned window panes of her lilac dorm room.
Hector rolled her over on her tummy then pulled her up by her hips. Reaching around to loosen her trousers and pull them down he murmured with more honesty than cynicism, “perhaps if you pretend that I’m Clarence, you’ll get a thrill.”
“Then do it hard,” she advised, closing her eyes as she rested her weight evenly on her knees and the palms of her hands.
Hector didn’t need a second invitation to comply with her injunction to the letter. He wanted to fuck her hard. He’d been dreaming of doing nothing else since he’d first spoken to her. Nor did this determined young man, one of whose ambitions was to some day edit the National Enquirer, have the slightest qualm about playing surrogate to the girl that he desired above all others.
“You’re dry though,” he mused. “How do you get wet?” Unconsciously he stroked her bottom as he asked her this.
“Spank me,” she replied, though with relative disinterest.
“Really?”
“Go ahead.” She slightly rotated her smooth, slim bottom. The gesture added another inch to his already straining erection. He unzipped his jeans to liberate his cock. Out of curiosity she turned to regard the handsome pink specimen of masculine ardor. “Nice cock,” she mildly complimented him, dropping her head again with a sigh.
Hector tentatively caressed her bottom.
“That’s it,” she encouraged him. Her pain and disappointment at losing Clarence had left her too physically exhausted to be either embarrassed or protective about her fetish any longer.
“All right, young lady, you asked for it,” he told her, moving to one side and taking her by the waist to give her something like a proper spanking. It was true that she was up on all fours and under his arm rather than over his knee, but Lupe hadn’t reckoned with Hector’s ethnicity, which included strong spanking influences on both the Latin and European sides. He instinctively knew how to hold a girl for a spanking and how to apply the palm of his hand to her backside.
True to her word, Lupe became moist within moments. Hector ascertained this twenty or so swats into the spanking. Conflicting emotions overwhelmed Lupe as she surrendered to the fantasy that she was once again the beloved of Clarence.
Fifty or sixty smacks later, when Lupe’s creamy skin was fully pinkened, Hector found her to be sopping wet and proceeded with the more adult portion of the program, during which safe sex was achieved with characteristic teenage abandon. In spite of her detachment, Lupe succumbed to a climax moments before Hector’s. After which she promptly burst into tears.
Hector gathered her into his arms and comforted her, instinctively knowing that he himself was in no way responsible for her sadness.
All of this was duly reported to Diana, who, more shocked by Lupe’s taking to dressing in black than her new sexual decadence, seized the first opportunity to reproach Clarence with his dangerous neglect of her friend.
They met in the basement of their dorm while exchanging old sheets for new at the linen lockers.
“Good morning, Miss Stratton,” said Clarence, shades cooler than he had ever been with the small, sleek senior before.
“You’re very formal today, Clarence. Or are you angry with me too?”
“I’m not angry with anyone,” he bristled.
“Not even Lupe?”
Clarence collected his linen.
“Clarence, do me the courtesy of replying to my question.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I would like to know your intentions with regard to my dear friend,” demanded Diana imperiously.
“Intentions?”
“Yes. Have you abandoned her?”
Clarence slammed his locker closed.
“No,” he shortly replied.
“Then you still care for her?”
“Of course,” he reluctantly growled.
“Then why are you being so mean? Have you forgotten that she’s a novice in the scene? Ninety percent of why she went to the city was to give you a reason to spank her. Neophytes often behave that way. It’s something they grow out of.”
“Thanks for telling me that. It’s a big relief,” Clarence said, unimpressed.
“So I guess you don’t care that she’s crying herself to sleep every night and starving herself to death in the day?”
This made Clarence pause. He remembered that Lupe had looked utterly drained the previous morning at breakfast, dressed all in black, though with handsome slate grey accents. Her cheeks had looked hollow!
“Where is she now?” he suddenly asked Diana.
“I don’t know. Probably walking around in tears. It’s what she’s been doing all week.”
“All right. I’ll put a stop to that today. If you see her tell her I’m looking for her.”
It was one of those October days that start out golden blue and end up wetly grey. Somewhat revived by the impromptu spanking and rough, satisfying sex from Hector the previous day, Lupe had reacquainted herself with soap and perfume and outfitted in wool knickers, a sweater, thick sox and ankle boots, set out after breakfast to walk the entire day.
First she walked out to Vassar farm to stare at the scarecrows. Then she started down the densely shaded road to the Cider Mill, crunching leaves.
It took some time to reach the strange lodge and halfway there the clouds began to move in. Fortunately, in looking for Lupe, Clarence had run into Carl-Adam, who had just seen her walking on the road and Carl-Adam told Clarence exactly where he might find her. As the drizzle began, Clarence pulled up beside Lupe.
On noticing the handsome, tawny driver of the jeep Lupe’s heart contracted.
“Lupe, get in,” he stopped the car and severely frowned at her, opening the door. “Where were you going?”
“The Cider Mill.” She got in.
Clarence threw the car in gear and they started down the road. “You didn’t look well at breakfast yesterday. I was wondering whether you were all right,” he began, though without much warmth. They exchanged sidelong glances.
“Were you?”
“As a matter of fact, I was.”
“I’m fine,” she replied defiantly.
“Yes, I can see that now.” Lightning flashed but they barely noticed.
“A lot you care!” A loud clap of thunder startled them both.
“Of course I care.”
“Really? It’s hard to tell when you get ignored for a week!” Lupe folded her arms.
They debarked at the cafe and went inside. The place was cavernous and weird, filled with taxidermy and awkward antiques. Everywhere one looked there was something to read, examine and recoil at. Clarence bought them hot mulled ciders, which they sipped as they paced the hall.
“Has it been a week?” he asked her casually. This question brought tears to her eyes.
“Yes!” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “And I’m fed up. You don’t like me anymore? Fine. I can find another boyfriend.”
“I’m sure you can!” he hotly replied.
“There’s a mixer at West Point next weekend. For upperclassmen only. They’re all but officers, you know.”
Clarence put their mugs down on the counter and led her outside. “That’s enough about West Point cadets. Get in the car.”
“Or I could go with Diana to Yale this weekend. They’re a dance there too. You’ve never seen me on a dance floor.”
“Shut up.”
“Are we going back?”
“No.”
“Where are we going?”
“An inn I discovered in Rhinebeck with cabins in the woods.”
“Go to an inn? With me? Now? For what purpose, pray?”
Clarence only gave her a look.
The cabin smelled of cinnamon and apples, the rustic hearth was loaded with firewood and the antique maple bed was swathed in down.
“If you don’t forgive me then what are we doing here?” she asked as he locked the door and sealed the windows against the beating rain.
“I do forgive you. But you’ve been wickedly abandoned.” He took her by the hand and made her sit next to him on the bed. Lupe felt embarrassed and couldn’t meet his eyes. The next thing she knew she was being pulled across his lap and spanked.
“I should have done this the second you got back from New York,” he stated, slapping her bottom hard and repeatedly through the tweed knickers. “Ungrateful girl!” Smack! Smack! “Lift up,” he ordered, reaching under her to unbutton her wool knickers and yank them down to mid-thigh. “I bestow my heart on you and this is how you behave!” Clarence squeezed her perfect oval cheeks, snugly wrapped in French cut, white cotton briefs. More stern smacks descended on her pert seat.
“At worst, I was impulsive,” she protested, though not seriously trying to resist.
“Really!” Now he swatted her harder.
“Ow! You disagree?” Lupe put one hand back to shield her bottom but he caught her by the wrist and slapped it. “Ow!” She nursed her hand to her face.
“Impulsive nothing. You knew that I would expect fidelity from you, yet you deliberately pursued an affair with another man, not ten days after you started dating me!” Now he pulled her panties down to bare her reddened bottom. “Did you think that you wouldn’t get a spanking for that?”
“Are you calling me a slut?” she cried, squirming to avoid his hand, which had begun to descend on her unprotected bottom vehemently.
“No,” Clarence replied, staying his punishing hand to examine Lupe’s fair skin, now stained dusky rose. “But neither are you a proper young lady!” He kissed each punished cheek just once before setting her on her feet.
“I’m going to the Inn to get us something warm to drink. Get undressed and get in bed,” he ordered, leaving her alone.
Lupe went to the window and watched him walk into the woods, her heart aglow at being once more the focus of Clarence’s attention.
High tea was being served at the Inn and he was able to return with a basket of sandwiches and tarts. Lupe had not stirred from the window.
“You don’t listen very well, do you?” he sighed, drawing a pot of hot chocolate from the basket and filling two mugs.
“It’s too early to get in bed,” she observed, unwrapping a small sandwich.
“Oh, you think so?”
“Is my punishment over?”
“Don’t you wish!”
“I really don’t.”
“Oh, you admit you’ve behaved reprehensibly?”
“No.”
“Why did you do it, Lupe? I thought you were so happy, so satisfied with our chemistry.”
“I just wanted an extra adventure. I was curious. That’s all. I began to regret it the second I got there. Although it turned out all right. But nothing like it is with you, Clarence. He wanted to be my master. You only want to be my god. There’s a difference.”
“Don’t be impertinent,” Clarence snapped, but the next moment took the sandwich out of her hand and kissed her hard. “There!” he said, letting her go. “That’s how I feel about you.” Then he set about starting a fire in the hearth.
“Yes, you said you loved me several weeks ago but you haven’t gotten around to proving it yet. Just the opposite.”
“Haven’t you ever heard of tough love?”
“I have something else I need to tell you.”
“Oh god, what now?”
“Not that I want to tell you, but inevitably you’ll find out and I couldn’t stand another week like you just put me through.”
“Well?”
“Well, after you abandoned me, another boy quickly moved in.”
“What other boy?”
“Remember, I was desolate and therefore detached. It’s not as though I was anything but completely indifferent to his overtures. But as day after neglectful day passed, the young man began to realize that he might successfully press his advantage, proximity being nine tenths of possession.”
“Lupe, are you saying you let Hector Green have you?” All 6’2” of Clarence bristled as he took her by the slim shoulders and gave her an admonitory shake.
“It’s your fault,” she pouted up at him.
“My fault!”
“Because you left me alone and unprotected. I mean, what did you think would happen?”
“You are your father’s daughter, I’ll say that. Your mother’s too,” he mused, striding towards the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Out to cut a switch!” He fished his Swiss Army knife out of his pocket and exhibited it to her. Then he was out the door.
Lupe paced with indecision for a moment or two, then followed him out into the woods. The rain had abated to a drizzle as the afternoon waned. It was growing chillier by the moment but the woods were glorious in red and gold and Lupe savored the snap in the air. She found Clarence a few seconds later, searching for a dry twig.
“I don’t want a switching. They’re supposed to really hurt!” she protested.
“We’ll soon find out,” he promised, moments before seizing upon a perfect specimen, dry beneath a pile of sticks. He began to trim it with his pocketknife.
“I didn’t want to do it with Hector, but he virtually forced the issue.”
“Are you saying that he raped you?”
“No. Of course not. I was more apathetic than resistant, to be fair to Hector. But I’m sure you’ll agree that only a cad in embryo would take advantage of a cruelly abandoned, lovesick girl.”
“Sophistry. You could have said no thank you. Hector is a Philistine, not a Neanderthal. Now come over here!” Clarence found a proper fallen log to thrust her over and let fly with the switch across the back of her wool pants smartly enough to make her shout.
“Ow! No more!” she struggled to break away but he held her fast to the fallen trunk. Swish! Another swat landed painfully. Lupe shrieked and tried to pull away. “Clarence, that really hurts! No!” Again the switch struck with an awful sensation. Tears sprang into her eyes as she attempted to jerk free of his hold. “No more!” Another swat fell and again she wailed aloud. Her sobs soon filled the forest as he delivered the final two of six hard strokes. When he let her go she ran stumbling back to the cabin, her face wet with tears and rain.
He stalked in a moment after her and was surprised to see her curled up in a small ball of tears on the hearth rug.
“Did it really hurt so badly?” he attempted to fold her in his arms.
“Yes!” she protested, thrusting him away. Feeling more sorry for herself by the moment Lupe indulged in a fit of hysterical sobs.
“I’m sorry I was harsh,” he vowed, brushing the hair from her damp face to kiss her. “I suppose I didn’t realize how severe the switch could feel to a small girl like you.”
“Would you like to feel how it felt?” Lupe abruptly stopped sobbing. “Because I’d really like to give you the same six of the best that you just gave me and see how you like it!”
“Oh, Lupe,” he hugged her, “you’re so cute.”
“Don’t! That really hurt like hell. I never thought of you as a sadist, Clarence. Until today.”
“Lupe dear, I have apologized,” he said with a slight trace of impatience. “Now stop being such a baby before I give you another spanking!” This warning elicited such a pretty pout that he seized her by her long, black ponytail, pulled her towards him and kissed her hard. “I’ll teach you to let other men have you!” He took her to the bed and pulled her clothes off. When she tried to resist or hold on to various articles of apparel he slapped her hands away or slapped her lightly on all the parts of her body that became exposed.
Bestowing a few light spanks on her small, round, upstanding bosom when he’d removed her lacy brassiere had an unexpectedly stimulating effect on Lupe, who had never thought much about her breasts beyond acknowledging how charmingly they filled out her sweaters and looked in a sweetheart cut gown. Although not a girl to enjoy her nipples pinched, the feel of his admonitory pats on the fleshiest portions of her bosom inflamed her with submissive sensations. She whimpered but deliberately thrusts her breasts towards him, unmistakably asking for more.
“I’m glad you seem to realize how much you need to be beaten,” Clarence murmured, while lightly pinkening her creamy, cherry tipped orbs with tender spanks.
The next thing she knew he was pulling off her last remaining garments. Then sitting on the bed he pulled her down across his lap. He made her arch up and present her silken black Venus mound. He told her to hold still. Then curving one hand around her waist, he began to spank her sex quite lightly with the other. The result was immediate intense and panting arousal. She wriggled so violently that he had to press down quite firmly with the other hand to hold her in place.
Pausing in the spanking of her pussy, Clarence began to exquisitely torment her with long periods of examination and probing, consisting of him spreading her labia to glimpse her dewy excitement, then plunging several fingers into this well of darling, young femininity. Lupe writhed and wriggled across his lap.
Finally he turned his attention to her equally fascination second portal of pleasure. The process of examining and probing her from this angle was even more rewarding. She had such a perfect, tiny bottom hole that he got a thrill just looking at it. Utilizing her natural wetness as a lubricant, he inserted his middle finger into her anus. Plunging it deeply inside her, he felt her clamp down on it hard. Pulling it free he spread her and spanked her bottom hole.
“Oh my god!” she cried at the one thing that always sent her over the edge. “You can’t!” she protested weakly for form’s sake. It was too humiliating. Now he would realize exactly how submissive she was.
“Hold still,” he warned her, keeping her cheeks spread with one hand and continuing to spank her anus with the other, less delicately by the moment. “Since this isn’t your pussy I don’t have to be nearly as gentle with you. Do I?”
“I don’t know,” she moaned in confusion, shrinking from the increasing though far from unpleasant sting of his punishing palm between her cheeks.
“I’m going to take you there.”
“Take my bottom?” she turned to him.
“I’m sure it wouldn’t be the first time its been done,” he sighed, pulling her up and into his arms.
“There it always feels like the first time.”
“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”
“Yeah, I noticed how expert you were with that switch,” Lupe blithely retorted.
“You deserved for it to be real.”
“I don’t want to be in love with a martinet,” Lupe mused, allowing her throat to be nuzzled and her earlobe bitten.
“Oh no? You’ve been looking sad all week. And I think it’s because you missed me,” said Clarence, squeezing her small waist.
“So you noticed and still remained a hard, cold thing? Oh Clarence, how could you be so cruel to me?” she lay her head against his chest and murmured.
“Lupe, your behavior has been far worse than mine! Picking up a stranger at the Vault while you were there as my date was bad enough. But then you compound the insult by surrendering yourself to a second and even more insolent male, right here on campus, that I now have to worry about cutting me out every chance he gets.”
“So don’t give him any chances.”
“Unfortunately I can’t be with you 24 hours a day,” he said, drawing her against him comfortably. “So I’m putting you on your honor to be a good girl from now on.”
“Anyway, you’ve secured a place in my memoirs as the first man to ever beat me for being unfaithful to him.”
