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 9

Chapter Two Damaris Pays a Debt

After her separation from Michael, Damaris Flagg became absorbed in her work at Random Construction, where she now had her old position back as William Random’s office manager.

To distract herself from thinking about Michael Flagg, she worked long hours and spent most of her free time at the gym. She was miserable, but was becoming more desirable every day.

Damaris had now become indispensable to William Random. She no longer wore tight suits and 4” heels to work, as in the old days, but rather dressed in jeans and tweeds and sweaters, with sensible little shoes, and wore her hair in a long, glossy black ponytail. She’d become sturdy and dependable. William admired her greatly now.

Yet William respectfully refrained from attempting to resume their love affair, which had ended several years before, around the time that Michael had first taken an interest in her. At the onset of autumn, he was content simply to appreciate her increased dedication and enjoy her platonic companionship over an occasional meal.

In recognition of her superior job performance William showered benefits on Damaris. He hired a maid for her and provided a generous expense account. Whatever services she needed, he paid for. And he also replaced her antique bug with a sleek new company car.

Between William and Hugo, Damaris was able to furnish Cobweb Cottage, as it was charmingly called. And William found his way over every weekend to do small repairs and installations until everything was perfect for her.

While the two of them were busily and virtuously working together, they began to shyly study each other.

William had become so thoroughly tamed since the departure of his wife, that he hardly dared pat his secretary’s bottom. And then too, Damaris had become such a hardworking puritan that there was little one could feel superior to her about. She was hardly a frivolous child to be put across one’s knee and spanked any more, William told himself soberly.

Meanwhile, Damaris began to feel a stirring inside her whenever William strode into a room. One day he was over doing work around her house. Damaris went out onto the small verandah overlooking Pigeon Cove and observed him, in his shirtsleeves, up on a ladder, installing a new porch light. He was a slender and gracefully muscular man with short black hair and a chiseled, intelligent face. He looked down at her and smiled. Her tummy suddenly filled with butterflies and she knew she was in love again.

Damaris felt this revelation with a mixture of pleasure and anxiety as she sank into a low wooden porch chair to gaze at the small patch of coast.

When she had first become attracted to William he had been newly married to Laura. He and Damaris had been drawn to each other, and had enjoyed an office love affair. Then came the dreadful mistake that had led to her dismissal and her subsequent involvement with Lt. Flagg.

Though they hadn’t been in each other’s arms in several years, Damaris had often wondered whether William still cared for her. The way he had prepared the house for her and Michael indicated that he did. And so did the way he was looking after her now. Obviously William needed a woman. Laura had left him on pleasant terms and they saw each other often, but clearly she did not intend to return to him.

Damaris tried to exorcise the seductive thoughts. She mustn’t even think about such absolutes as being William’s woman. What she really should be doing was dating. In the scene. Placing and answering ads.

“Are you placing and answering ads?” she suddenly asked William, when he came down off the ladder to test the new light.

“No, are you?”

“No, not yet,” she said.

William sat down to enjoy the pleasing vista of cove, sea, sand and sky on a temperate autumn afternoon. While Damaris was bringing out coffee, he mused on why he hadn’t placed an ad. He didn’t like to admit this to Damaris, but due to the exuberant accessibility of Laura’s sister, Susan and Laura’s own occasional availability since their separation, William had not felt like a wholly abandoned man. More recently, of course, he had begun to take a renewed interest in Damaris and thoughts of making love to her now filled his head whenever she was near him. She was and always had been the most daintily feminine young lady he had ever met.

When she handed him his coffee he scrutinized her closely. Why had she made that remark about ads, if not to let him know that she was once more available?

“Why don’t we take each other’s photos and submit ads to Hugo’s magazine?” William suggested, as an activity.

“Should we?”

“Definitely. You’ll get a new boyfriend immediately.”

“And you?”

“I managed to get Laura last time I had an ad,” William’s tone indicated an abiding admiration for his wife in spite of the fact that she had outgrown him.

They agreed to meet back at William’s house that evening to take photos. William set up a seamless and lights for portrait shots. Damaris was wearing a sleeveless, cream silk sheath, sheer stockings and high heels.

She looked very alluring and it reminded him of the old days. There had been perhaps 5 encounters in total, each of them special and sweet. Damaris saw him staring at her and blushed.

William made a few minor adjustments and began to take pictures.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t encourage you to place an ad,” said William, surprising her into a gratifying expression.

“No?”

“Someone might take you away from me.”

“Would you hate that?” she smiled.

“I’d hate it.”

“Are you saying something?” she asked.

“I’m saying that maybe neither of us should place an ad.”

After they shot a roll of film between them, William took her into the downstairs sitting room, where he made a fire and insisting on serving her tea himself. Damaris then shyly addressed him.

“William, do you ever think about the fact that there is unfinished business between us?”

“What do you mean?”

“A long time ago I did something very bad to you.”

“Oh, that,” William frowned momentarily.

“I’ve felt guilty about it for years. It’s grieved me.”

“It’s all right,” he told her, “I forgave you for that long ago.”

“But I’ve never forgiven myself,” she explained. “And I never will until my transgression has been punished, and by the one I wronged.”

“You want me to punish you?” he asked, surprised and immediately aroused.

“Yes.”

“Punish, as in spanking?”

“Yes, and for real.”

“For real, huh?” William stuck his hands in his pockets and paced.

“You don’t agree?” she asked timidly.

“I’m not sure,” he folded his arms and looked at her steadily. “I was very angry with you at the time. As I recall, I was seriously contemplating pressing charges.”

Damaris flushed deeply, realizing how tasteless her request might seem to a person of sensibility.

“Forgive me, my suggestion was entirely inappropriate,” she raised her beautiful eyes to him.

“It isn’t that, Damaris. You just took me by surprise.”

“You see, I made a terrible mistake. I’m really not that way,” she explained with painful sincerity, her heart suddenly throbbing with love for William Random.

“I know you aren’t. And besides, you’ve been such a model young lady ever since.”

“Whatever I do to make amends never seems adequate. I still feel so horribly guilty.”

“Well, you needn’t.”

“I wouldn’t feel right about going out with you unless we took care of this business between us first,” she softly insisted.

William paced and considered whether it would be strictly ethical to comply with her wishes. Throughout his brief but pleasant marriage he’d managed to invent a number of sterling reasons for spanking his wife and had never run into trouble. However, the first time he gave her a serious spanking for a reason he considered truly valid, (her inexplicable aloofness upon his return from Bolivia), she left him, hurling accusations of “boor” and “bully” at his head. Happily, he’d restored a portion of her esteem by rescuing Laura from Hugo Sands on the night of her infamous caning, but she’d made him suffer greatly for his blunder and they had never fully reconciled since.

This case was much different, however. Here was Damaris practically begging to be exonerated from the guilt that had tormented her for years, and legitimately so. What she’d done was deeply reprehensible and she hadn’t been made to answer for her misdeed in any way. William studied her pure, open face and wondered if there would be any harm in complying with her request.

“It’s true that your betrayal was a grave disappointment to me,” he declared coolly, deciding at that moment to be the martinet she needed him to be. She lifted her head at the sternness in his tone. “I also agree that you deserve to be punished by my hand. Therefore on Monday evening, after work, we’ll settle this once and for all.”

Damaris spent the entire weekend and all of Monday in a pleasurable state of anxiety. She had dressed for work that day in a little grey v-neck wool jumper over a pristine white blouse and black stockings with black pumps. Sensible of his role as disciplinarian, William wore a faultlessly tailored charcoal wool suit with a white shirt and silk foulard tie.

At six o’clock Damaris timidly entered William’s office.

“Have you locked the door?” he asked, getting up from his desk and drawing the wooden blinds shut against the deepening November evening.

“Yes, sir.”

William sat on the edge of his desk and appraised her, standing before him in the manner and virtual uniform of a schoolgirl.

“You know why you’re here,” he began.

Damaris nodded.

“When you came to me three years ago, Damaris, I gave you your first decent job. I was good to you. I trusted you. I even loved you. And how did you repay me?”

It was all so true that Damaris felt a lump rise in her throat.

“I betrayed you,” she whispered.

“That’s exactly right. You stole contract bids, from this very office where we’re standing, and sold them to an unscrupulous competitor of mine for payoffs in cocaine. Didn’t you, Damaris?”

“Yes, sir,” Damaris hung her head.

“Why did you do that, Damaris?”

“I was a speed freak. I thought I needed it. Randy Price tempted me. There’s no excuse for what I did.”

“No, there surely isn’t. Especially in view of the fact that you were also my lover at the time!” William snapped. Damaris paled at the sudden sternness in his tone and demeanor.

“I’d give anything to undo what I did,” she declared passionately.

“Wasn’t it lucky for you, Damaris, that Lt. Flagg was so completely spellbound by the curve of your behind that he neglected to arrest you for possession of cocaine?”

“Oh, yes!” she fervently agreed, as the thought of herself in jail filled her with untold horror.

“You know, it was Michael who beseeched me not to press charges,” he informed her.

“He did?”

“Feel loved, Damaris. After he described the arrest procedure to me, I decided that even as bad as you were, I couldn’t put you through that.”

“Thank you!” she exclaimed, with glittering eyes.

“Now, three years ago, when all of this occurred, I was much too furious with you to deal with you on any level. However, when you were compelled to remind me of the incident the other day, I realized that I now am capable of punishing you, in a controlled manner, for your grave misdeed.”

William went around his desk, opened the top drawer, and withdrew from it a thin, tooled, chestnut brown leather strap, 2” wide, and 12” long, fitted to a polished wooden handle. He went back around the desk to stand in front of her again.

“Extend your right hand, Damaris,” he told her. “Palm up and hold it still.”

Trembling, she put out her hand. Grasping her by the wrist of that hand, he drew back the strap and laid it across the palm of her hand hard. Tears sprang to her eyes immediately as she jerked her hand away in pain and fear.

“No, young lady, put your hand back out. I’m going to make sure that you never steal from me or anyone else again. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

“You’re getting 6 on each hand.”

Damaris extended her hurt hand once more and turned her head away. Again the strap came down and the sensation was more painful that anything she could have imagined, though the scene from The Seventh Veil did not fail to flit through her mind.

“Look at me, Damaris. You’re being punished,” he forced her to meet his eyes before he brought the strap down a third time on her tiny hand. The next three strokes came rapidly and seemed so shockingly painful to Damaris that she felt her knees buckling under her and for a long moment she seemed to be falling very slowly and softly backwards. The next thing she knew, she was sitting on the floor and William was pulling her back up to her feet. She hadn’t actually passed out, but a momentary wave of dizziness had caused her to reel away from the punishment.

“Stop that,” he scolded her. “You can take this. Now give me the other hand.”

Sobbing almost uncontrollably now, she offered her left hand for discipline. Again she turned her face away and hid it against her sleeve. Grasping her firmly by the wrist, William began the whole procedure again, administering the strapping as though he were a disinterested 19th century schoolmaster and she a recalcitrant ward of the state.

“You know you have this coming, Damaris,” he told her, and continued to mete out the full count.

The strapping on her hands was the most painful corporal punishment Damaris had ever experienced, but although she wept, she also felt almost giddy with relief that her sin was finally being expiated. After this he would fully forgive her and she would finally forgive herself. That was the value of punishment. Through her entire marriage to Michael Flagg, she had never felt entirely happy or at peace. Though she worked very hard at her jobs and as a homemaker, she always felt as though she was on probation, because he had met her in the commission of a crime for which they both knew she had never been punished. She felt he could never respect her, having taken her up under such circumstances.

After completing the strapping on her hands, William allowed her to immediately escape to the bathroom to run them under cold water. Alone in there she stared at her flushed, tear streaked face in the mirror and at her pink hands. She looked disheveled but still pretty and very young for her 29 years. She knew she’d gotten through the worst of it. He had been very severe with her. A spasm of pleasure rippled through her tummy at this thought. She remained in this position for five minutes, and when she pulled her hands out and patted them dry, the pain was gone.

She dried her face and brushed her hair before returning to him, shy to the point of mortification. He made her show him her hands and seemed pleased that the discipline had caused no apparent damage.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to spank you as well,” he told her gravely, taking her over his knee as he sat on a broad, heavy, armless wooden chair, which he had brought forward.

William took the time to adjust her slender torso perfectly across his lap, smooth her skirt down over her small but shapely buttocks and gently rearrange her long, glossy black waves. It had been three years since he had had the divine pleasure of correcting this beautiful, small woman and he could not help but relish in her endearing submission. She lay across his lap in the posture of a passive little girl, which caused his penis to throb violently.

“Now, Damaris,” he said, patting her bottom softly through her skirt, “I want you to understand that I didn’t enjoy being so harsh with you just now. But I think you needed it.”

“Yes, sir,” she looked back at him with an adorable face.

“Damaris, if I didn’t know you better I’d think you wore this school girl outfit to soften me up,” he said, continuing to fondle her bottom, now by putting his hand up under her skirt to caress the cool, bare flesh of her thighs above her stocking tops.

“No,” she disagreed, “I wore it to make you harder.”

“Don’t be impertinent,” he warned, giving her a hard smack.

“Ow!”

“Ow is right. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” he refamiliarized himself with her perfectly rounded, though now quite muscular bottom by spanking her over her skirt a couple of dozen swats, until Damaris felt the warmth spread across the entire surface of her buttocks beneath her skirt and panties. Grasping the rungs of the chair with both hands she surrendered to the delirious pleasure of receiving a sound spanking from this handsome, kind and caring man. Spasms of excitement rippled through her tummy and pubic mound, which were pressed so flat against his rock hard thighs as he brought his hand down again and again on her upturned buttocks.

A spanking on the skirt contains a spontaneous glamour. It had always worked on Damaris like an aphrodisiac. How kind and loving he was to treat her like this. His hand coming down felt effective and stern, though the pain was not severe. She loved the way he held her, so firmly across his lap, with his hand locked upon her small waist.

“I remember your bottom being slightly more voluptuous than this,” he remarked, finally pausing to lift her skirt. She helped him by raising herself up on his lap, allowed herself one look back at him. “You’ve lost quite a bit of weight, I think.”

“Is it all right?” she asked timidly.

He ran his hand across the mounds of her bottom, now beautifully encased in a pair of sheer black briefs and framed by a matching black garter belt, which held up her sheer black hose. Working out and running had changed her hourglass figure into a more modern, athletic one. Her waist was tinier than ever, but now her bottom was almost slim, though it still jutted nicely and filled out the snug briefs to perfection.

“It’s much prettier than I remember it,” William approved, fitness being his only religion. “And I remember it being the prettiest bottom I’d ever seen.” This unexpected bit of eloquence touched Damaris deeply and she cast him a grateful glance over one delicate shoulder. He paused in caressing her bottom to lean down and kiss her mouth. Then he pulled away and smoothed her hair back so as to fully reveal her profile.

Of mixed Puerto Rican descent, Damaris possessed the black hair and ivory complexion of a princess. The black nylon panties, so classically sheer, revealed the rosy tinge, which his hand had already imparted to her tender alabaster skin. He was frankly surprised by the lush hue of pink that the spanking had already produced.

“I wish I didn’t have to do this, Damaris,” he signed, “but you committed a crime and then got off Scott free. We both know that was wrong. We went on for a couple of years trying to ignore it, but now justice must be served.” He slowly pulled her panties down to her upper thighs, laying bare her radiant bottom for the first time. She caught her breath as he did so. “Now, Damaris, you knew that I would have to pull your panties down to spank you properly, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she murmured, fastening her eyes to the grey carpet and steeling herself for the first blow.

“This is going to hurt,” he warned her, which caused her to emit an involuntary little sob. “You’re getting fifty of the best,” he informed her and immediately began to spank her, both harder and faster than before, in such a way that had her kicking and squirming on his lap almost at once. Each smack caused a cry of pain to issue from her lips. His hard, calloused, palm hurt much more on her bare bottom, which had already been made tender from the spanking on her skirt. William stopped after ten smacks.

“Damaris hold still and stop making a fuss. This is nothing compared to what you should get for what you did so take it and be grateful that you’re getting off so lightly,” he advised her sternly and commenced spanking her again. This time she concentrated all of her resolve on remaining in position and not crying out, though she couldn’t prevent a whimper from escaping her lips every second or third smack. “You’ve been a very disappointing little girl,” William scolded, while spanking her harder still. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” he continued, laying on the final ten whacks, more slowly, but with even greater severity. By the time the last stroke fell, she had already dissolved into tears.

William pulled her panties back up and set her on her feet.

“Because of the gravity of your offense, additional penance is required,” he informed the tearful submissive, who could not help but rub her well-marked bottom with both hands. “Get down on your knees, young lady,” he told her, unzipping his trousers. “There’s more to discipline than spanking,” he said, pulling out his long, thick, circumcised penis. “Now behave like a proper penitent,” he instructed. Damaris had never been asked to give him head before and it had also been years since she had seen his large cock, therefore she approached it as gingerly as she would a wild woodland creature.

“Just a minute,” he stopped her as she began to reach for him. “Go and get the strap I used on your hands and bring it here to me.” Damaris obeyed him quickly, bringing him the school strap and then getting back into position. Grasping the strap by the handle he leaned forward in the chair and allowed her to capture his penis between her small, soft and so recently punished hands and bring it to her full, red mouth. William pulled her skirt up in back and laid the strap against her sheer black panties.

For a few moments he let her play with the knob of his cock, licking it and encircling it with her tongue. Then he pulled it out of her mouth and raised her chin to make her look at him.

“Haven’t you ever given head before?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she replied, wide eyed. “But not frequently.”

“Apparently not,” he snorted, leaned forward and applied the strap to her bottom hard three times as she hid her face against his shirtfront. Then he pulled away and placed his cock between her hands once more.

“Suck it this time,” he told her coolly. Humiliated and aroused, Damaris opened her mouth to accept his large cock and did her best to honor it. “That’s a good girl,” he told her. “If you keep it wet and work it up and down with your hands, you’ll find it much easier,” he recommended, allowing the strap to fall to the ground. For a full five minutes he allowed her to struggle with his swollen organ, of which she was able to enfold perhaps a third within her small mouth. At last he said, “Are you going to be a good girl for me now?” She nodded, looking up at him with enormous eyes. It was enough. He had every intention of ejaculating into her mouth, but the white blouse and grey jumper stopped him. “Take it in your hands now,” he told her, suddenly pulling free. With her darling little hands wrapped around him, pumping his slick engine fast, a copious flow of white lava erupted forthwith from his cock. It was such a large amount, indeed, that he was very glad he hadn’t gagged his little friend with it.

In a moment, when he had recovered, he stuffed his still hard dick back into his trousers and made himself decent again. He then helped Damaris to her feet and told her to go and wash her hands. When she returned to him he motioned her to his desk.