Читать книгу Shadow Lane Volume 3: The Romance of Discipline, Spanking, Sex, B&D and Anal Eroticism in a Small New England Village - Eve Howard - Страница 8
ОглавлениеChapter One The Continuing Adventures of Susan Ross
At the beginning of October, Susan Ross sent her mentor, Hugo Sands, a written apology for her impertinence on the evening of Laura’s caning the month before. A few days later, Hugo found himself in Manhattan and invited Susan to join him for a meal.
It was raining when the small blonde exited The Majestic Apartments on Central Park West to hail a taxi in the cool, damp, twilight air. The twenty year old wore her hair in a long ponytail and was dressed in a yellow oilcloth slicker and hat, pegged jeans and a white cotton shirt.
She was tense in the cab on the way across town. She had allowed her scene etiquette to lapse to the extent of defying Hugo, ruining a scene he’d been playing with her sister and breaking up a party at his own home. At the very least she expected him to be cross.
But Hugo surprised Susan by greeting her warmly. He removed her outer garments and brought her immediately to the most comfortable chair in his Doral Tuscany suite. He was a tall, lean, well-tailored man in his forties, with fair hair, pleasant features and an attractive demeanor, a fetish magazine publisher who had been a magnet for interesting submissive women for many years.
“Susan, I was touched by your letter,” he told her fondly, “but please don’t give that evening another thought.”
“No?”
“Believe me, I’m not angry,” he patted her pretty white hand. Susan looked at him in amazement.
“Then, I can come to your Halloween party?”
“Of course you can. Didn’t Anthony receive an invitation yet?”
“I haven’t seen Anthony since that night at your house,” Susan admitted, flushing.
“Really?”
“I’ve been staying with Sherman Cooper.”
“Susan, what’s going on?” Hugo was shocked and alarmed.
“I daren’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“You won’t approve.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“You won’t like it.”
“Susan, I’m not renowned for my patience. Please explain.”
“No offense, Hugo, but I wish Anthony would have stuck up for me more that night when you treated me like a 6 year old in front of everyone,” Susan replied, with some trepidation.
“You were expecting chivalry and he behaved like a Roman,” Hugo observed.
“Exactly!”
“Susan, don’t you know that men are dogs?”
“Actually, I assumed that he refrained from interfering mainly out of courtesy to you, since you practically gave me to him in the first place, but whatever his motives were, his indifference disturbed me. You were being Basil Rathbone; he should have vanquished you.”
Hugo smiled.
“Susan, you should get the paddling of your life for walking out on Anthony over this.”
“I know. That’s why I want to go to your party. I think it would be the best place to run into the Maestro and throw myself on his mercies.”
“I wouldn’t wait that long if I were you. I understand he’s leaving for England in a couple of days and will be gone for most of the month. What’s more, he’s bringing a pretty new secretary over with him. And she’s in the scene,” Hugo fabricated blithely.
Susan’s face drained of color and her heart began to pound.
“Boy, that was fast,” she observed, feeling ill.
“Well, what did you expect? Aren’t you at this very moment living with another man?”
“Yes, but it isn’t like you think. Sherman isn’t even in town,” she explained.
Too distracted to remain any longer with Hugo, Susan wandered out into the night and again hailed a cab, anguished at the thought of Anthony’s plane going down in the Atlantic before she had a chance to see him again.
It took a very long time to get down into the Village in the rush hour gridlock and Susan’s eyes brimmed with tears more than once on the way.
Finally the taxi let her off at Anthony’s red brick 3-story and she beheld with joy the silver Bentley parked at the curb. This meant that he was probably home and Susan rushed inside calling his name.
Anthony emerged at the top of the stairs, in the act of knotting a silk foulard tie and glanced at her with a coolness and reserve quite unlike him. She ran upstairs at once, tearing off her hat and slicker. “Well?” he asked, folding his arms.
“I just came from Hugo. He said you were about to leave for England.”
“He knows a lot more about my schedule than I do,” Anthony replied.
“You’re not going abroad?”
“No.”
“Was Hugo also mistaken about your having a new secretary who’s in the scene?”
“Would it bother you if I did?”
“I’d hate it.”
“Funny, you haven’t been acting that way,” he observed, returning to the suite of rooms from which he had emerged. Susan followed and watched him pull on a double-breasted suit jacket of grey flannel.
“I’m sorry that I haven’t,” she exclaimed, “but do you have a new girlfriend or what?”
“I don’t know. I suppose the girl I’m going out with tonight could become my girlfriend one day,” he conjectured.
Susan paled at this painful supposition as her eyes blurred with tears.
“But I’m your girlfriend,” she protested.
“No you’re not.”
Susan sunk onto a large, richly upholstered sofa and burst into sobs.
“Are you bringing her home with you tonight?” she dared to ask.
“What does it matter? You won’t be here.”
“Yes I will,” she replied with spirit.
It was very difficult for Anthony to maintain an indifferent demeanor while his darling was in distress but he was hurt at being abandoned for five weeks. In addition, the fact that she had been living with his principal rival for her affections all month left him further incensed.
“In that case I won’t come home.”
“Please do!” she cried.
“No.”
“Anthony, I can’t believe that you don’t love me anymore,” Susan declared.
“The divine gift of my companionship has been squandered on you,” he told her severely.
“That’s not true! You know that you’re my one and only,” she quoted Gershwin, hoping to make him smile.
“Please, Susan, don’t make me laugh.”
“I mean in the greater scheme of things. Look, I’m just a kid. I don’t understand the protocol of relationships yet.”
“Is that so?” Anthony surveyed her guileless face with skepticism.
“The thing is, you’re so busy and popular that I really thought you’d barely notice my absence.”
“Susan, you’re studying the wrong profession, you ought to be a lawyer,” he told her, then added without humor, “now why don’t you stop lying.”
“All right, I hoped that if I disappeared for a while it would make you understand how disillusioned I was when you didn’t protect me from Hugo Sands.”
“What’s this about Hugo Sands?” Anthony flashed back on the scene in Hugo’s drawing room at the end of the summer and remembered with a start the look of mute appeal Susan had cast him after Hugo had ordered her to stand in the corner.
“You don’t even remember the situation, do you?”
“Of course I remember. Hugo had a plan for the evening and you began to interfere, so he wound up turning you over his knee.”
“In front of everyone.”
“You wanted me to prevent him from doing that?”
“Yes!”
“And that’s what your leaving me has been about?” Anthony was annoyed at himself for not having thought of this explanation before.
“Yes.”
“I see.”
“Oh, Anthony, I’m as sorry as can be about all of this.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“I’m sure you didn’t mean to be callous. Now that I’ve spoken to Hugo I realize that you might have enjoyed being a Roman. After all, we’re all in the scene and I was taking things too seriously, spoiling the fun. I guess I think too much.”
He would have embraced her just then, but Anthony’s sense of the theatrical demanded a postponement of their reconciliation.
“Well, I have a pressing engagement,” he informed her, as though their conversation had begun to bore him.
“Couldn’t you postpone it?”
“No.”
“May I wait for you here?”
“No.”
“I will anyway,” she returned.
“You do and you’ll get a good spanking. I’m about fed up with you.”
Susan felt a terrible thrill at these words. Anthony dialed his driver Dennis on the in-house phone and told him to warm up the car. Immediately after he hung up, the phone rang again. Anthony picked it up and began to chat briefly with a friend. This small event gave Susan an idea and she ran upstairs.
Hardly knowing what motivated her, for she was not normally a madcap, Susan ran down the back stairs to the first floor, exited the building through the kitchen, slipped through the garden gate into the alley and then out to the street where Dennis had just gotten into the Bentley. Susan made a dead run for the door, slipped into the passenger’s side, front seat and startling the wits out of the young English driver, curled up on the floor under the dash, well out of sight.
“Miss Susan, what are you doing?”
“Don’t give me away!” she commanded urgently.
Before Dennis, who had flushed deeply, could reply, Anthony opened the back door and got into the car. Susan tented her hands in a prayer to the driver.
“65th and Park, Dennis,” said Anthony, settling back for the ride lost in thought.
Dennis, who adored Susan, was now in a quandary. He dared not risk offending his generous employer, but he couldn’t think of betraying the young lady he most admired either. And yet why had she the need to play a prank like this? Deciding to ignore the situation and hope for the best, Dennis proceeded into the night.
“Dennis, it looks like Miss Susan is back with us,” Anthony said casually from the back seat. Dennis gave a start as his employer continued, “So after you drop me off I want you to go back home and make yourself available to her in case she needs you.”
“Very good, sir,” said the chauffeur, enormously relieved. Dennis looked down and was horrified to read a note that Susan had scribbled for him to read.
“Get him to talk about me!” it read and Dennis visibly recoiled. But Susan persisted in pointing at the note until Dennis finally stammered, “I don’t think Miss Susan likes to make use of the Bentley, Sir.”
“Then put her in a cab if she wants to go out,” Newton told him. “And make sure there’s plenty of wood in her fireplace too.”
Susan smiled, touched.
“I will, Mr. Newton.”
Sixteen minutes later, Dennis pulled to a stop in front of the elegant old apartment building where Anthony was picking up his date.
“I’ll find my own way home,” said Anthony, getting out of the car. Dennis immediately pulled away from the curb. Susan waited until he’d gone a quarter block before scrambling up on the seat with cramped arms and legs.
“Go around the block and park just short of the building. I want to see them come out,” Susan ordered.
“Must I, Miss Susan?”
“I asked you to, didn’t I?”
“What if he sees us?”
“Make sure he doesn’t.”
Dennis circled the block and parked on the opposite side of the street. Then they waited.
“Perhaps he won’t come out at all,” said Dennis.
“It’s dinner time. They have to come out to eat,” Susan told him. And sure enough, within 5 minutes, Anthony emerged beneath the bottle green awning with a sleek brunette in her middle thirties. As the uniformed doorman hailed them a cab, Susan had ample time to absorb every detail of the slender beauty’s skirt suit and overcoat ensemble. The hat, gloves, purse and spectator pumps were perfectly coordinated. White skin, black hair, red mouth, and patrician nose. Susan observed the gracefulness of her shoulders, neck and instep. The woman had a propensity to smile and laugh good-naturedly that lent additional appeal to her well-bred appearance. Everything about her was sophisticated. Susan shuddered at the thought that this paragon of confident femininity should also be inclined to play at B&D.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she, Dennis?” Susan observed as Anthony handed her into a cab.
“Quite nice,” the driver agreed.
“Have you dropped him off at her place before?”
“I don’t feel I’m at liberty to reveal that information, Miss Susan,” said Dennis firmly.
“I see,” replied Susan coolly.
“Where to, Miss?”
“West 72nd Street and the park,” Susan said, folding her arms and staring out the rain streaked window.
“I’m sorry, Miss Susan, but you’ve put me in a very awkward position,” Dennis explained.
“Dennis, stop over dramatizing,” Susan recommended.
Deeply shocked at this harsh accusation, he nevertheless marveled at her discernment.
“I think you’re a conceited boy who’s being difficult because his mistress doesn’t pay enough attention to him,” Susan added incisively. At this pronouncement Dennis flushed a frightful shade of red.
“I’ve taken Mr. Newton to that address once before,” the twenty-four year old Londoner caved in to the forcefulness of his employer’s twenty year old girlfriend.
“And did he ever bring her home with him?” Susan demanded.
“Not that I know of.”
“Thank you, Dennis.”
They did not exchange another word until after Susan came down from the Majestic apartments with her textbooks and a valise. As before, she climbed into the front seat beside him, a gesture he could not fail to note with a throbbing heart.
“Home, Miss Susan?”
“Yes, thank you, Dennis.”
Susan observed the color come and go in the young man’s smooth, clear face as she said these few words to him. Impulsively she touched his thigh.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Dennis.”
“Don’t give it another thought, Miss Susan,” Dennis replied, and then added, with painful shyness, “I want to serve you better.”
Susan rewarded Dennis with a smile, aware that she had just acquired her first slave.
Anthony Newton arrived home around midnight and discovered Susan asleep on the overstuffed sofa before his bedroom hearth. She was dressed in a luxurious slate blue silk-satin gown set with matching mules. Her long hair hung about her shoulders in wheat-blonde waves. She awoke with a start the moment his light step crossed the threshold.
“Still here, are you?” he sat next to her on the couch. She shrunk back but he seized her little wrists and drew her across his lap with the ease of arranging a dinner napkin. “I told you what would happen if I found you here tonight, you horrible girl!”
Placing one hand firmly on her waist, Anthony smoothed the dressing gown down over her round little bottom then drew back his free hand and brought it down resoundingly on one cheek, then the other, until he’d administered at least three dozen sound smacks to the seat of her robe. Susan bit her lip and did not argue, though she couldn’t help but kick her little feet each time his hand came down.
“So you think that you can leave and come back whenever you like, do you?” he demanded, continuing to spank her harder still. Susan wriggled on his knees and tried to shield her bottom with her hand, the wrist of which he grabbed and pinned to the small of her back firmly before continuing. “No you don’t,” he told her, pulling the smooth layers of satin gown and robe up to her waist to reveal her already blushing bottom. After laying it bare he surveyed it for a long moment, holding her in place while she held her breath. But before striking her, he wound his hand in her hair and carefully but coolly made her look at him.
“You deserve to be punished, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Susan replied in a voice that caused him to release her wheaten hair and pause to arrange her perfectly across his lap.
“You’ve treated me quite badly, and for no good reason,” Anthony said.
“I deeply regret that,” she cast an appealing look back at him.
It was becoming increasingly difficult for Anthony, with this adorable package of compliance prone across his knees, to remain even mildly disgruntled, no less angry.
“You’re just a spoiled little girl,” he told her, taking a firmer hold on her waist before applying his palm to her bottom for twelve to fifteen minutes. Holding her in place, Anthony spanked her with metronomic precision, never altering his rhythm and always bringing his hand down hard after skipping two beats in between smacks. Penetrating heat combined with an ever-increasing sting caused Susan to jerk and wriggle across her man’s muscular thighs. Little whimpers began to escape her lips as the spanking continued, with the tempo increasing to one beat between smacks. Susan began to feel very sorry indeed for her behavior and felt the justness of the discipline. Anthony had never been anything other than charming and indulgent toward her, treating her like an adult and a friend although she was only a silly child not even through her undergraduate degree. Handsome, popular, even-tempered and enormously adept at seduction, Anthony had nevertheless reserved the first place in his heart for Susan and she had seemed to disregard the importance of this. Susan felt foolish now, as though she’d almost thrown away her most precious possession, the love of a truly exceptional man. Every slap struck a resounding cord in her tender soul as she luxuriated in the punishment that would expiate her error. Impressed by her silent acquiescence, Anthony paused and coolly forced her face up to examine it. She looked quite the fallen angel, with her full, trembling red lips and guilt-stricken blue eyes. Her soft, submissive posture and childish expression pierced his heart and electrified another important organ simultaneously. But now that she was absorbed with the drama of this midnight encounter he couldn’t disappoint her by allowing the intensity to flag.
“Get up,” he told her.
Susan slid off his lap and unconsciously rubbed her bottom through the satin gown and robe, sinking to her knees beside his chair.
“I said get up,” he repeated, pulling her up. Susan blushed, feeling like a stupid child.
“That outfit is too sophisticated for you,” he told her, as though the exquisite ensemble displeased him. “Go to your room and change into something more appropriate for a naughty little girl,” he ordered.
Excited and upset, Susan went up to her studio. Anthony seemed quite angry with her. Of course she couldn’t believe that deep down he was really angry with her. He was far too levelheaded to take the actions of a frivolous child like herself to heart. Susan felt a tiny thrill as she mused on her lover’s age and experience. He was quite old enough to be her father, though he wore his 40 years very lightly. His importance in the real world endowed Anthony Newton with a natural dignity, which even an irreverent Ivy League brat like Susan was compelled to respect. It occurred to Susan that though he might never use the word himself, Anthony was her master. The coolness with which he had greeted her return this evening confirmed his control.
She knelt before her biggest marble topped chest, the one that contained her combinations and nighties and pulled out the bottom drawer, in which everything was of white cotton. She selected a waltz length eyelet trimmed gown and wrapper, which was laced with blue satin, ribbons and tied with a blue satin sash. In the set with her long, blonde hair down she might have sat for Renoir.
Anthony had removed his tie and jacket and was in the process of rolling up his sleeves when she returned to him. Rather than meeting his eyes, she scanned the counterpane which displayed a multi-thonged flogger, a razor strop and perhaps what frightened Susan the most, a long, broad, oval shaped wooden hairbrush.
“Come over here young lady,” he ordered. “Give me your wrists.” When she obeyed he tied them together in front of her with a pristine white handkerchief. They looked at each other.
“You have something to say?” he asked her gravely.
“Only that I’m sorry,” she replied.
“Sorry that you overreacted to the Random Point incident?” Anthony pulled her by her bound wrists face down across his lap and took up the hairbrush, which terrified Susan.
“Yes, I overreacted,” she replied. He laid the back of the brush against the curve of her buttocks, which was fairly well protected by two layers of eyelet-sewn cotton.
“I hate to have to do this, Susan, but I feel I have to get your attention this time,” he explained, drawing back his arm to deliver the first smack. The blow of this big brush was solid, imparting a sharp, deeply penetrating pain, which caused her to cry out with shock and dismay as she jumped on his lap.
“No!” she wrenched her upper torso around and tried to break free.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he pushed her back down. Then he slowly applied the hairbrush with equal severity an additional half dozen times, holding her firmly in place across his knees with one hand on her waist all the while.
In his attic apartment Dennis heard his little mistress’ anguish as her desperate cries rang through the house. Half mad with empathy and excitement, Dennis paced. He didn’t know what state was to be more devoutly coveted, that of being Susan’s resolute master or worshipful submissive.
“You know you’ve got this coming,” Anthony uttered, with implacable certainty, raising her dressing gown and nightie.
“No more with the brush, I beg you!” She twisted and turned on his lap. He examined her blushing bottom, which revealed the dark rose imprint of the brush on her flawless white skin. Tears ran down her face as she gave him one stricken look then hung her head and burst into sobs. “Mercy!” she whimpered, repeating the plea several times before breaking down completely.
Anthony lifted her from his lap, setting her on her feet. He first untied her wrists, giving her the handkerchief to wipe her eyes, then untied her satin sash and pulled the wrapper from her shoulders. She was charming in the sleeveless, fitted, white, embroidered gown.
“No more with the hairbrush,” he pulled her down to sit on his lap, encircling her small waist with his arms.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“I’m still angry with you, though.”
“Are you really?”
“When would you have deigned to come back if it weren’t for Hugo’s lie about my new secretary and the trip abroad?”
“I was planning to run into you at Hugo’s Halloween party,” she confessed.
“Not until then?” Now Anthony was genuinely perturbed. “You intended to keep your distance for two months to prove a point?”
“Tony, we’ve traded E-mail every single day since I’ve been at Central Park West,” she referred to their daily computer bulletin board message exchanges via the modem. “If you wanted me to come back to the Village so badly why didn’t you say so?” Susan jumped off his lap.
“I guess I was waiting to see how long it would take you to decide to return on your own.” He got up and paced.
“That and you were so busy up on Park Avenue that you barely noticed I was gone,” Susan suddenly accused.
“What do you mean, Park Avenue? Susan Ross, did you follow me tonight?”
“What if I did?” Susan challenged.
“Worse and worse!”
“Oh Anthony, I’ve missed you!” she tried to put her arms around him but he didn’t allow this.
“So much that you could afford to wait to run into me at a party a month from now?” Anthony was so piqued at this revelation that he lifted her onto the high, lavishly dressed four-poster bed saying, “We’ve got to get some things straightened out here. Arms around the post.” He assisted in arranging Susan’s arms so that she hugged the carved wooden bedpost with her graceful back turned towards him. He gathered up the skirt of her gown and tucked it up between her arm and the bedpost, baring her pink bottom. He took up the multi-thonged whip with its broad, flat, leather lashes and placed his other hand in the small of her back.
“Run into me at a party, will you?” he administered the first stroke directly across the fleshiest portion of her bottom in a vigorous manner, which caused her to catch her breath and rock with the lash.
“You know, Susan, you’d bore me to death if you didn’t have a life of your own, but let’s not lose perspective here.” He delivered the next stroke lower and harder. Susan gave a little sob of fear.
“Are you my girl or aren’t you?”
“You said I wasn’t before,” she murmured.
“Don’t tell me what I said,” he administered a third lash, which seemed to cover her entire bottom and left a pink bouquet of whip marks in its wake. “Your manners are getting worse and worse, Susan.” He punctuated this accusation with the firmest stroke so far, one that caused her to cry out in pain and fear, while appealing to him with tearful eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m very displeased with you,” he told her, drawing back his arm to administer the end of the whipping. The two final strokes were frighteningly severe to Susan, who immediately sank down on her knees, hid her face and wept.
“Let’s get back to you following me tonight. You can’t possibly think that was the proper thing to do?” He lifted her head and quite coolly wiped her face with his handkerchief.
Susan looked guilty. “I just wanted to see the lady.”
“Really! Well, thanks to your eleventh hour histrionics I had a perfectly awful time. I couldn’t concentrate on anything besides what I was going to do to you when I got home.”
“I’m sorry.” Susan sank down on the pillows, profoundly relieved that he’d cast the whip aside and charmed that she’d preoccupied him all night. Her tears subsided as he continued to make repairs to her damp face with the handkerchief. Forced to scrutinize her dear face he could not resist bestowing a kiss on her full, red mouth. As she yielded to him he drew her against his chest and kissed her hard, on her lips, throat and bosom, which he also gently squeezed through the fine, embroidered gown.
“Your punishment isn’t over,” he told her, repressing the rising tide of sentimentality which suddenly engulfed him as he caressed her. Her passivity in his arms was intoxicating.
“Please, Anthony, the brush and whip hurt so much. Couldn’t the remainder of my lesson be ... less stringent?” Susan requested hesitantly.
Anthony didn’t answer immediately but continued to hold her.
“Perhaps,” he said, at length, “we should visit the examining room.”
Susan immediately flushed.
“Or is that concept too humiliating?” he asked, making her look at him.
“No, Sir.”
“Do you think you could benefit from that sort of discipline?”
“Yes.”
As Anthony led Susan upstairs to the luxuriously appointed Victorian examining room on the third floor, she clung to his hand, ashamed of the ache she began to experience in anticipation of what would soon be done to her bottom.
Once the door was locked behind them Anthony adjusted the lighting to his taste and deposited Susan in a leather armchair opposite a grand mahogany desk, behind which he then sat, in a corner of the room designated as a consulting area.
On the wall to Susan’s right hung Anthony’s several Ivy League and conservatory diplomas, each signifying a different degree of academic and musical accomplishment. The wall behind his desk held a pair of wood trimmed glass cases filled with volumes of arcane medical lore, which he had purchased at an estate auction to lend authenticity to this examining room, which he had installed in his townhouse for their mutual enjoyment.
“Well, young lady,” said Anthony, slipping on a pair of glasses and sternly consulting her file, “I didn’t expect to see you back at our clinic so soon.”
“It’s been six months,” she protested.
“Has it, indeed?” Anthony, who was gratified that the date of their last appointment in this room had fixed itself so firmly in her mind, nevertheless frowned at her.
“Yes, Sir.”
Susan understood that they had become characters in a fantasy. Anthony even got out a chart.
“Now then, Miss Susan, when was the last time you engaged in sexual intercourse?” Anthony asked blandly.
“Uh...do I have to answer?”
Anthony slammed his pen down on the desk.
“My dear girl, as the Director of this clinic, I assure you that all you reveal will be held in the strictest confidence.”
“I don’t remember,” Susan smiled. “It was ages ago.”
“I wonder how that can be when you’ve been residing with Lawyer Cooper all month.”
“He’s been out of the country. I’ve been alone all month.”
“Oh!” Anthony was happily surprised, this simple admission placing Susan’s absence in a different perspective.
“So you’ve just been alone, behaving yourself all this time?”
“I have mid-terms coming up and I’ve had some very large 18th century novels to read,” she replied. Anthony highly approved of his pet’s delicate education but could not allow the conversation to become either general or literary at this point.
“That’s very admirable but surely a young girl like you can’t have gone this long without a lover.” Anthony returned to the character of clinical therapist.
“Come to think of it, William made love to me last month.”
“Really!” Anthony pretended to be shocked though he already knew of Susan’s adventure with her brother-in-law William Random.
Susan blushed, then volunteered, “He taught me how to come with just a vibrator through my clothes. I don’t even need to have sex or anal penetration.”
“Susan, you will always need to have sex and anal penetration. I can’t imagine what William was thinking of.”
“Well, we did have sex. But it was from the vibrator that I climaxed.”
“I’m making a note of that. Now, what other naughty things have you done lately?”
“I found my first slave,” Susan coolly announced, pointing to the corner of the building where Anthony’s driver had his quarters.
“Dennis?”
“Actually, he’s only my slave in theory so far. I haven’t put it to the test yet.”
“I see,” Anthony gave her a look that promised an almost immediate trip across his knee, causing Susan to realize she had said a presumptuous thing. For a moment neither of them spoke, then Anthony rose to his feet.
“So, at 20 years old you’ve decided that you need to own a slave. And you have the effrontery to select him from my household staff!”
Susan bowed her head in embarrassment, peeking at her pacing lover from under her lashes. He frowned at her, deciding what sort of lesson her impertinence merited.
“Your arrogance is becoming insupportable,” he declared. Susan didn’t dare meet his eyes now.
“So you think my driver is your property, do you?” Anthony asked. Susan opened her mouth to reply but he stopped her. “Perhaps I should ask Dennis to join us so we can clear this matter up.”
“You wouldn’t humiliate Dennis like that,” Susan protested.
“I wouldn’t dream of humiliating Dennis. I was merely going to ask him whether, if given the choice, he’d prefer to straighten out Miss Susan’s shoe closet or fuck the living daylights out of her. We know what a slave’s reply would be.”
Susan was taken aback by the notion that she might indeed have been mistaken in the English boy’s ardor, interpreting his lust as romantic thralldom. Yet she could not refrain from replying, almost haughtily, “Slaves are weak, especially when presented with a temptation as alluring as the one you just described. However, I know your character too well to believe that you would ever initiate so crude a litmus test.”
Anthony was astonished at her adroit handling of his volatile suggestion and began to think there was nothing that could put this irritating girl out of countenance.
“You realize of course that I can’t possibly keep Dennis on,” he let drop coolly.
“But, why not?” Susan went cold with fear. If her frivolousness caused a good man to lose his job she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.
“You can’t expect me to pay an employee to make love to my girlfriend.”
“But he hasn’t been!”
“Regarding you as his mistress is just as unacceptable to me,” Anthony continued.
“But he doesn’t regard me as that. Quite honestly, I only felt I had him in my power, so to speak, for the first time today. So you see, he doesn’t know about any of this. Therefore, you have no reason to dismiss him.”
“What you’ve told me is reason enough. What do you think this is, some B&D bawdy house? Dennis is my employee, not your personal plaything. He’s at your disposal to run errands, drive you around and guard you on the streets. Nothing more. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.”
“That’s good, because if I hear or observe one more hint that Dennis is anything more to you than an employee I will dismiss him immediately.”
“I understand.”
“I’m very angry about this and you’re going to have to be severely punished.”
Susan hung her head though her heart was racing.
“Take off your gown,” he ordered, opening several drawers in the oaken cabinetry lining one wall and removing a polished wooden box from one and an antique black medicine bag from another, pausing to check on Susan in one of the mirrors as he did so. She looked worried, which satisfied him. “I said remove your gown,” he repeated sternly and she quickly slipped it over her head, fully revealing her petite, exquisitely formed body.
“Come here,” he told her, seating himself on a graceful Directoire recamier, affording ample room to sit with a girl across his lap. He made Susan stand still before him as he took various objects from the medical bag and polished wooden case and spread them out on an inlaid mahogany drum table to his right. From the medicine bag he drew items such as a thermometer, Vaseline, suppositories and a premixed douche. While from the box he extracted several polished wooden dildos and one small, solid wooden paddle.
“You see all this?” he asked. She nodded, feeling that familiar ache between her legs. “This is to assist your rehabilitation. Once you’ve been disciplined and trained by all of these devices, you’ll remember, in spite of yourself that what you really like best is to be submissive.”
With that he took Susan across his lap and after positioning her comfortably, examined her bare bottom thoroughly.
Susan didn’t dare argue as he lubricated her and then inserted the thermometer into her bottom.
She gasped as this was done.
“Don’t fuss,” he warned her, slapping her thigh rather sharply. Susan laid still, her face burning with shame, feeling like a helpless little girl. One hand held her by the waist, the other rested on her bottom. She buried her face in her arms. Presently he removed the thermometer and informed her that she was running a bit of a fever. Perhaps some melted ice would help to bring it down.
He instructed her to bring him some ice from the small pantry adjunct to the examining room where he kept various supplies in a refrigerator. Susan found a small ice bucket inside it filled with spherical ice cubes. She brought this to him on a tray with the tongs which he had also requested and allowed him to take her back across his lap. But this time he placed a thick white towel across his trousered legs before arranging her for maximum access to her flawless bottom. Separating her buttocks firmly, he inserted a harmless glycerin suppository between her cheeks and well up into her bottom. She squirmed, sobbed and whimpered in extreme embarrassment. He held in front of her face the first wooden dildo he had selected for her edification. This was a polished teak rod, with rounded ends, one inch around and about 7” in length. Anointing the slim wooden shaft with lubricant, he spread her cheeks and inserted one end into her anus, and holding her firmly apart, he slowly pushed most of this object into her rectum. He then allowed her bottom to contract around it and commanded her to lie completely still, which she found very difficult to do in the frenzy of excitement to which this methodical insertion had driven her. Tormenting her with minute adjustments in the angle and depth of insertion, he finally seemed satisfied with its positioning and proceeded to enhance its effect upon his pretty young lady by spanking her smartly. She began to pinken immediately. He stopped and selected the second solid wooden dildo, this one somewhat thicker around, and showed it to her. Then, without disturbing the first, he gently spread her thighs and inserted the larger, manlier object into her highly lubricated sex. The ache became unbearable as this long, cool rod slid slowly up into her pussy until only an inch or so depended from that snug, curl fringed orifice. Now, thus lewdly filled, Susan whimpered in shame as he adjusted the objects that penetrated her so deeply and fussed about the two separate points of entry. Because Susan was so wet and growing more so by the moment, the larger dildo began to slip out every few seconds and had to be pushed firmly back into that soaking, pulsing glove.
Then he tried something different. Telling her to lie completely still, Anthony gently relieved her of the slim rod that had been lodged so deeply in her bottom and laid it aside. Then he pulled towards them the bucket of ice cubes she’d brought him. The dildo he’d placed in her vagina remained where it was.
Spreading her bottom open, he inserted one of the melting ice cube balls into it, then simply held and stroked her firmly as she gasped in shock.
“That’s okay, you need cooling off,” he informed her, dividing her cheeks again to pop another ice cube through her anal ring. Susan wriggled on his lap and ground against his thighs. He noticed this and slapped her hard. “Did I not tell you to lie still? If you dare to have an orgasm before I give you permission, I’ll cane you. Do you understand?”
“I can’t control that,” she protested, forcing herself to lie still.
“I told you to lie still,” he spanked her. “That doesn’t mean clench your bottom. It means no motion.”
Susan felt deeply humiliated when her extreme lubricity caused the dildo to slip out of her vagina. He did not replace it, but punished her with a half dozen very hard smacks on either cheek to demonstrate his disapproval.
“Why did I even bother to treat you like a grown-up?” he asked, again separating her buttocks to insert another ice cube inside her bottom. The sensation provided by the melting balls was indescribably erotic to Susan, who also enjoyed the restraint of being made to hold still.
The next thing he showed her, in front of her face, was the disposable enema, which was a basic pint of mineral water in an applicator tipped plastic bottle.
“You’re getting this next. And after that, another one. I’m taking your bottom tonight and I want it to be perfect.”
Susan heard these words of love with trembling and passion but had little faith in her own ability to postpone her orgasm much longer. Particularly when he held her apart for the nozzle of the enema bottle and began to squeeze the liquid into her bottom. This did not take long and once the entire amount had been infused, he sealed the operation with a 5” rubber retention plug, which he inserted to the hilt and held in place with the palm of his hand.
With her tummy now slightly full, she couldn’t help but begin to squirm across his lap. He held her firmly in place by the waist and did not let her wriggle for long.
“I told you to be still,” he scolded, spanking her across the plug and also on either cheek. “Just this once you’re going to learn to obey,” he warned her, continuing to alternate between spanking her luscious buttocks and spanking the plug ever deeper into her bottom. This was not an unduly severe spanking, but it was a deeply humiliating one.
“Oh stop!” she begged. “I’m going to come if you don’t.”
“I told you you weren’t to.” Several hard smacks followed. “All right, I’m going to withdraw this plug and allow you to visit the commode.”
Susan had to make her mind a complete blank in order to avoid succumbing to an orgasm as he withdrew the retention plug. Then she was allowed to leave him for a time.
When Susan returned, Anthony had set up an enema bag on an IV stand on wheels and he had placed it to the side of the leather upholstered examining table. It appeared very full to Susan.
“Get up on the table, Susan. I want your head down, your knees apart and your bottom uppermost. Immediately.”
Susan timidly obeyed the command to mount the table and assume the specified position.
“Legs apart as far as they’ll go,” he told her, separating her knees firmly. He also pressed down in the small of her back to increase the upward thrust of her well-rounded buttocks. Next, he re-lubricated her anus, very gently, mindful of the activity which had already visited this sensitive region as well as the rest of the night’s agenda.
“As you know, I’m not naturally inclined to be this strict with you, Susan, but your willfulness must be corrected.”
Adding the nicety of a rubber glove, Anthony used his middle finger to deeply probe her bottom in the process of lubricating it.
“I will be using a Bardex nozzle,” he told her, showing her the curious apparatus with which he was about to fill her. “This is very warm water so prepare yourself.”
Susan hung her head and held her breath as he began to insert the rather busy nozzle that had connected to it a deflated rubber ball. Once this operation had been completed and the entire nozzle had been buried, causing Susan to feel momentarily dizzy with the magnitude of her humiliation, Anthony began to inflate the rubber ball in her bottom.
“As you probably figured out, the inflated rubber ball just inside your bottom will assist you in retaining the enema you’re about to receive.”
Susan’s face burned as she submitted to this clinical indignity in total silence. He kept one hand on her bottom as the other worked the hose clamp and he began to release the warm water into her bowels.
The water felt very hot to Susan and very shocking filling her tummy rapidly. She heard him adjust the clamp and knew that the flow had stopped momentarily.
He placed one hand under her tummy and felt its fullness. Her skin was silken to the touch. He cupped her bosom in his hand and squeezed it gently. Then he moved his hand down to her lower abdomen and pubic mound, which he placed his palm against and held firmly while releasing the clamp again.
“Remember what I said about coming,” he warned her, paradoxically kneading her soft, blonde curls. Susan whimpered, on the very edge of a climax. Her tummy began to feel very full. He held his hand against it firmly as the hot water filled her.
“After you’ve taken the entire two quarts I’m going to remove the nozzle, reinsert the retention plug, take you across my lap and paddle the plug. Understand?”
“Yes,” she squirmed involuntarily at the thought.
Anthony halted the infusion several more times to prevent sudden cramping but finally every drop had traveled down the white hose and into her bottom and he very carefully, holding her open firmly, withdrew the deflated bulb and nozzle from her rectum and lay them aside. Then he re-lubricated the rubber plug and holding her apart again, slowly inserted it deep inside her bottom. Next he lifted her off the table and carried her back to the recamier where he sat down with her across his lap and placed the hardwood spanking paddle close by.
Anthony took time to adjust her comfortably across his lap, making sure that the retention plug was firmly and deeply lodged between her pink cheeks.
“Your passivity is charming,” he told her fondly, bending to kiss her ear and gently caress her smooth throat. “But I’m still irritated with you for that foolishness about Dennis,” he added, taking up the small but solid paddle to begin the spanking.
Anthony brought the paddle down on either cheek several dozen times very sharply. Susan sobbed and wriggled on his lap but accepted the pain without protest. The fullness of her tummy and the sensation of the rubber plug embedded in her bottom all but cancelled out the pain. Particularly as he ceased to punish her satiny cheeks and began to apply the paddle instead to the base of the plug which divided her buttocks.
Susan enjoyed a shuddering climax six or eight swats into this segment of the paddling. Anthony held her fast as she spasmed, then quietly stroked and caressed her until she calmed down.
“All right, Susan, I’m going to let you up and leave you alone for awhile. But I’ll expect you in my bedroom in one hour, freshly bathed and wrapped in that bridal gown set I sent you from Italy.”
Less than one hour later Susan entered Anthony’s bedroom, clad in a gown and wrapper of white fairy gauze, ribbons and lace. Anthony, who had been playing Gershwin tunes on his piano, which alerted Susan that he was in a happy mood, affected a stern demeanor when she stood before him for instructions.
“Well, young lady, what have you got to say for yourself?”
“I don’t know,” said Susan.
“Are you ready to give up this unseemly notion of seducing the chauffeur?”
“Not seducing. It was never that,” she protested.
“It was that to the highest power,” he informed her.
“I can’t help it if Dennis adores me,” Susan said, with a good deal more presence of mind than a girl who had just endured an examining room ordeal had a right to possess. “But I won’t encourage him to do so.”
“How magnanimous you are!” Anthony glared at her impertinence.
“But, just for the record, I never dreamed you’d take exception to my playing with Dennis. I expected it to be a trifle, beneath your notice.”
“Just for the record, maybe it is, you irritating brat, but I’d prefer to stick with this particular fantasy for a while, wouldn’t you?”
Susan couldn’t resist climbing onto his lap then and covering his face and throat with kisses. He held her on his lap and suffered this attention with feigned ill humor.
“Stop it!” he ordered, firmly setting her on her feet once more. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Susan blushed and waited.
“There’s still your initial error of forgetting to come home all month to be punished,” he reminded her.
“Oh,” she meekly accepted this edict.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to cane you,” he told her coolly. Susan paled at this pronouncement and gazed at him wide-eyed, for he seemed serious.
Anthony got up, selected a charmingly brocaded little hassock and pushed it in front of the fire. A crack of thunder outside announced the resumption of the rain.
“Dispose yourself across this, Susan,” her told her gravely. When she hesitated he took her by the arm and bent her over the ottoman himself, pulling the skirt of both her robe and dainty gown up to her waist. Susan’s bottom had resumed its usual, creamy hue.
Susan lay exposed and trembling as he hunted through several closets for the English school cane he’d been saving for an occasion. But it wasn’t where he had left it. In fact, the cane was gone. Anthony gazed at Susan’s charming form, draped so provocatively across the hassock, with her long hair rippling down her back and wondered how he could have ever thought of caning her.
“Susan, what did you do with my cane?” he asked. Susan hung her head but made no answer. “I see,” Anthony said, pacing around her. “You either hid or destroyed my English school cane, didn’t you?”
Susan raised her head to follow him with her eyes.
“Well?” as he asked this question he unbuckled his belt, drew it from his trouser loops, wrapped the buckle end around his hand and administered the other to her bare bottom rather smartly several times. “What happened to the cane?”
“I threw into the incinerator,” she admitted, craning her neck around to keep her eyes on the strap in his hand, but holding her position.
“Why did you do that, Susan?”
“Because I was afraid you would use it on me,” she explained.
“All right, for that you’re getting six of the best with my strap,” he announced firmly.
Anthony went down on one knee beside her, placed one hand in the small of her back and began to strap her bare bottom soundly and with precision. Susan began to sob at once for the licking was hard and, in the context of their little universe, deserved.
“I’m very surprised at you, Susan. I thought you had better manners than that,” he scolded. Then he held her in position, to rub the sting away, making her feel exposed and vulnerable. The palm of his left hand cradled her sex as he caressed her bottom.
“I went to a lot of trouble to get that school cane, Susan. The factory that made them no longer exists.”
“I’ll get you another and take the caning if you’ll just forgive me,” Susan promised.
“And where do you intend to obtain such an item?”
“Hugo can get one for me,” she replied, turning to look at him.
“Another of your boyfriends!” Anthony stopped caressing to spank her.
“Ow! I’m sorry! He isn’t a boyfriend at all though!” Susan protested.
“On the subject of boyfriends, young lady,” Anthony pulled Susan up and sat her on the hassock while he stood up, “I’m going to give you some rules. First rule: when I’m in New York, you reside with me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” replied Susan, blushing at being told that she was wanted.
“Secondly, you can disregard what I said about you and Dennis before. You may amuse yourself with Dennis in whatever way you like while I’m out of town.”
“Truly?”
“Your instinct was correct. I don’t mind Dennis bonding to you. You need a body guard in this city.”
“I see,” Susan smiled.
“All right, get to bed,” he ordered, dimming the lights almost completely and undressing. He climbed in beside her, made her face away from him and embraced her from behind, locking his arms around her tiny waist.
“I suppose that woman I saw you with tonight would have taken a caning?” Susan asked.
“I’m sure she would have,” Anthony murmured, “if I paid her enough.”
“Oh!”
“But thank you for reminding me about your shocking behavior in following me tonight!” Anthony rolled her onto her tummy and pulled back the voluminous covers and bedding. “Relax, I’m not going to spank you anymore. There are other ways to punish an overly curious little girl.”
Susan bit her lip as he flourished a tube of hot lube before her eyes and broke the seal. She’d experienced the lubricant known as “lube” before but never the quick heating variety and felt both curious and afraid.
“Remember what I told you I was going to do?” Anthony asked her.
“Sodomize me?”
He allowed her to examine the lardlike lubricant and inhale its cinnamon scent. Then Anthony applied a very small amount to the tip of his finger and inserted it into her anus. Susan hid her blush in the pillows. Very quickly the area so treated began to radiate a not unpleasant warmth.
“I’m told that if you inadvertently apply too much of this stuff it can become most uncomfortable,” he advised, massaging the stimulating ointment lightly between her cheeks. Then he withdrew his hand from this intimate area and stroked her bottom while she squirmed.
“My little Susan’s such a naughty girl that I have to invent new ways to punish her,” he lamented; gently dividing her cheeks to survey the area he intended to plunder. Because of his careful handling, she did not seem any the worse for the humiliations that had already been visited upon her bottom that evening. Spreading her open more fully, he took care to scrutinize the tiny ring, which had proven the portal to so much pleasure for them both. Susan wriggled feverishly and ground against the bed.
“Hold still,” he warned, deliberately holding her bottom spread apart with one hand while slipping the other under her to press against her sex.
“I can’t, you’re driving me insane!” she cried.
“All right, calm down. Face the wall like before and press back against me,” he instructed, allowing his large, commanding erection to rest between her warm, smooth buttocks. “Now young lady, I want you to reach back with your little hand and put it in yourself, at the proper angle for you,” he ordered, firmly wrapping her hand around his shaft. After such a vast amount of teasing Susan was enormously anxious for their union and obeyed his last command with alacrity, placing his penis between her cheeks and attempting to insert it into her bottom. Once Anthony understood the angle she was indicating he gently withdrew her hand and continued the operation himself, while holding her well apart to ease the entry.
“What were you thinking of, following me?” An inch slid in and she gave a small sob.
“I’m sorry,” she replied, grabbing onto pillows with both hands.
“And then you confessed. You must have wanted to be punished for that,” he declared, inserting another inch of throbbing cock into her bottom.
“Yes, I guess I did,” she whimpered.
“You deserve a much worse punishment than this for such outlandish behavior,” he advised, plunging in yet another inch. Now she was open to him fully and he felt this in the subtle insinuations of her dear little bottom against his groin. “You’re lucky I don’t give you a bare bottom spanking in front of Dennis tomorrow morning before he drives us to Random Point.”
“No!” Susan cried with spirit.
“What? You don’t want me to turn you over my knee in front of our driver?”
“Oh!” Susan cried, in sudden ticklish rapture as he thrust his penis even further and filled her clinging glove completely with his cock. Firmly encircling her waist with one arm and placing the other palm directly upon her flat tummy, he began to fuck her slowly and soundly.
“Now, Susan,” he instructed, “Just relax and don’t contract. I want you open to me and that’s all. Understand?” he demanded.
“Yes, Sir!” she shivered with excitement as his palm pressed down lightly on her belly and his cock gently throbbed within her rectal sheath. Next she felt him withdraw slightly only to re-lubricate his shaft with a quantity of sheer, slippery gel, which eased his re-entry in the most voluptuous manner imaginable. Susan was on the verge of climaxing now. And after these several hours of punishing her, so was Anthony.
“Susan, what did I tell you about contracting?” he slapped her hard on the thigh.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, forcing herself to loosen her grip on her lover’s penis and cling lightly about it instead, which effort in and of itself was inexplicably stimulating.
“This is what you need,” Anthony observed, pulling her bottom cheeks firmly apart as his cock plunged in between them to the hilt. “You need to be controlled just like this,” he pressed his palm against her tummy more firmly now as he slowly thrust his penis into her bottom. Susan made a valiant effort not to contract her bottom around the brave intruder, but inevitably determined to bring this rapturous torment to its logical conclusion by squeezing on his ramrod until she came.
The moment he felt Susan’s internal spasms Anthony allowed himself the luxury of release within the warm, clinging recesses of her bottom. He himself had teetered so precariously on the edge of orgasm for the last hour or so, that he’d instituted the no-contraction rule simply to postpone his own climax until she had achieved her own. In doing so he had unwittingly stumbled on the single most arousing piece of foreplay for Susan, which was simply to force her to keep her bottom spread during an insertion. Not only had this minimized the abrasive side effects of anal sex, without lessening its intensity for him, but it had also distracted her to the point where she was able to accept the entire length of his organ without discomfort. Technically, this was close enough to count as a simultaneous orgasm for Susan and Anthony and the two of them basked in its romantic glow for some moments before disengaging, with his face buried in her hair and her luscious bottom nestled against his groin.
Susan looked back at him over her shoulder and said, “You do love me, don’t you?”
“That would be putting it mildly,” he told her, gently kissing the nape of her neck.
