Dealing With Discipline (7 page)

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Authors: Golden Angel

Tags: #Erotica, #sex, #bdsm, #spanking, #domestic discipline, #victorian era

BOOK: Dealing With Discipline
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THWACK!

Eleanor shrieked. That wasn’t his
hand! The impact area was far too small, far too stinging to be his
hand. It bit into her tender skin much more harshly than the blow
she’d been anticipating. Her head swiveled around to see Edwin
standing behind her, large wooden spoon in his hand, holding it up
for another strike.

“Stop!” she cried out.

THWACK!

“You attempted to injure me with a wooden
object,” Edwin said calmly as he rubbed his hand over the two dark
pink imprints on her creamy bottom as Eleanor gasped and
half-choked on a cry. “It seems only fitting that you now be
spanked with one.”

THWACK! He made a third imprint,
admiring the way the spoon almost immediately turned the areas of
impact a dark pink, but he’d lightened his blows a little as he
could also see that the effect was much greater on Eleanor than his
hand would have been.

“It hurts!”

“It’s supposed to. Now don’t let
go of the counter or we’ll have to start all over
again.”

Tears burning in her eyes at the
indignation and stinging pain, Eleanor clung to the countertop and
swallowed back a howl as the spoon bit into her tender bottom
again. Even worse, the pulsing burn had an answering throb from her
core.  The realization that some part of her body was enjoying
this, even if it was out of her control, only made her
angrier.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

Edwin peppered her bottom with spoon marks,
slowly increasing his pace and the force as her bottom began to
twitch and heave up and down, her gasping breaths coming faster and
harder.  His cock felt like it might burst out of his breeches
he was so aroused from seeing the crimson splotches which were
blooming all over her arse, it was a good thing the garment had
sturdy seams or he actually might have split one.

"Edwin, stop! I'm sorry, I'm
sorry!"

TWHACK! THWACK!

"
Edwin
! You bastard, I said
I’m
sorry
!" The
plea and insult was accompanied by a loud sob.

He rested one hand heavily
on her lower back, holding her in place as her legs began to kick
and she squirmed and bucked against the counter top, filling in all
of the ivory skin of her cheeks with a darkening red.  Why had
she insulted him, she wondered almost mournfully. Did she
want
 him to spank
her harder with the blasted spoon?  The focused impacts were
incredibly painful and yet Eleanor felt almost a lightening of her
heart as they continued, as if the guilt over throwing something at
Edwin was slowly dissipating, pushed out by the pain of her
punishment.  She was strangely aware of the heat of Edwin's
hand against her back and the heaviness of his breathing, despite
her own sobbing breaths and hot bottom. 

"Two more," Edwin said, slowing to
examine his handiwork.  His wife was squirming relentlessly,
unable to hold still, her bottom a patchwork of varying shades of
pink.  For a moment he was tempted to count and identify each
shade... salmon, coral, magenta, fuchsia...

Examining the smooth back of the spoon and
looking down at Eleanor's poor, punished bottom, Edwin was struck
with sudden inspiration. 

SMACK! SMACK!

She screamed bloody murder
as the most incredible pain exploded through her body. The fire in
her bottom was nothing,
nothing
 compared to what
rippled through her when Edwin landed the last two blows directly
on her tiny anus.  Although she'd occasionally had a birch
lash at that tender spot, she'd never experienced a focused assault
on the crinkled hole, and it more than burned, it stung like all
fury.  

With her legs kicking high in the air, her
hands were clenched so hard around the edge of the counter that her
fingertips tingled when she finally managed to relax them. The
wooden spoon clattered to the floor as Edwin put both hands on her
bottom, holding her in place and rubbing her abused
cheeks.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s over now,” he murmured
comfortingly as Eleanor’s body shook with slowly subsiding sobs.
When he slipped two fingers down to her quim, Eleanor moaned and
shook her head as if to deny the evidence of her body. Edwin nearly
groaned as he found her sopping folds, hot and swollen and soaking
wet to the touch.

Why?

Eleanor didn’t know. She hated the
reaction, it was humiliating and it only served to encourage her
husband. While she hadn’t minded becoming aroused when he’d given
her a rather pleasurable spanking in Paris, this situation was
completely different. It was certainly nothing that had occurred
when her father had disciplined her. But when it was her husband
doling out punishment it didn’t seem to matter how much it hurt,
her pussy creamed itself as if the burning of her skin somehow
translated itself directly to the warmth at her core.

Perhaps it was just Edwin’s presence that made
the difference. He was certainly more creative than her father had
ever been, constantly changing the type of punishment and amount of
strokes she received. And doing so with an erotic enthusiasm that
couldn’t help but translate itself to her, especially when she saw
his eyes darken with passion and his manhood swelling with need.
She wanted him inside of her.

“God, Eleanor,” he said with a
groan, pulling her up from the counter and flush against him,
turning her to face him, his hands gripping her bottom hard as he
plundered her mouth with his tongue. The back of her skirts were
still rucked up and Eleanor cried out as his hands dug into her hot
flesh, the stinging pain magnified by the kneading motions of his
fingers. The hard ridge of his erection pressed against her body,
nestling into the V of her legs as much as he could with her skirts
in the way. He kissed her as if he was drowning and she was air
itself, desperately, passionately, and she opened herself to him,
inviting him into her mouth and body.

Her fingers felt practically numb from the
time spent gripping the counter, the softness of Edwin’s coat
strange against the pads of her fingers, his hard chest tense
beneath it. When he pulled away her lips felt swollen from the
force of his kisses and both of them were breathing
hard.

“Edwin!” she screeched as he flipped her over
his shoulder, pulling down her skirts to decently cover her bottom
and legs. Her head hung down on one side, her legs on the other,
one of his hands around her legs and the other wrapped upwards
around her waist with his hand resting on one buttock. Even through
the layers of her skirt he could feel the heat emanating from her
red hot bottom.

“Quiet,” he growled, giving her a
sharp smack on upturned cheeks that was hard enough to make her
squeal again.

Eleanor covered her face with her hands, both
mortified and somewhat excited as he paraded her like that out into
the hallway, ordering the staff back into the kitchen before
heading towards their bedroom. No one dared comment of course, but
her face heated almost as red as her arse as she thought about what
they must be saying once they were back in the safety of the
kitchen, knowing that the master and mistress of the house would be
busily ensconced in the bedroom.

She couldn’t bear to look up to see who else
of their household might be watching as Edwin paraded her though
the house on his shoulder.

“Edwin, set me down!”

His only response was another
sharp slap against her rump that made her shift and bite her lip to
muffle her squeal. Edwin was behaving like a complete barbarian!
And yet… it made that hot aching need between her legs increase as
if he’d put his mouth to it.

Chapter 4

The need to get his wife
alone and naked had completely overridden any veneer of class or
decorum that had been ingrained into him, awakening his most
primitive instincts. It was only some small part of his brain that
insisted he didn’t want anyone else walking in and seeing his
wife
dishabille
that had him carrying her to their bedroom rather than taking
her in the kitchen the way he wanted to. That and he found himself
rather enjoying hauling Eleanor around over his shoulder; there was
something wonderfully proprietary about it, almost as disturbingly
arousing as his reaction to punishing her beautiful
bottom.

When he finally put her down in
their room, after kicking the door closed behind him, Eleanor’s
face was flushed pink from embarrassment as well as the blood which
had rushed to her head when she was upside down, her perfect hair
was half undone with the pins falling out of it, and she looked
alluringly disheveled despite her obvious humiliated
outrage.

“Edwin how could you?” she cried
out as he pressed her backwards until she was trapped between the
bed and his thighs, their lower bodies almost fused together. Edwin
kissed her jaw when she turned her lips away, his hands already
behind her, undoing the buttons going down her back. Eleanor
wriggled against him, trying to find a more comfortable position as
her flaming backside was squashed against the hard frame of their
bed, causing her hips to jerk forward as the hard bulge of his
erection nestled against her soft belly.

“How could I what?” he asked,
kissing his way down Eleanor’s neck. His wife let out a little moan
as he scraped his teeth along a spot that he knew her to be
particularly sensitive, her hands clutching at his jacket now
rather than pushing at his chest. Feeling her resistance melt only
inflamed him further, driving his need to claim and conquer
her.

“Carry me like that through the
house!” she practically wailed. The way she responded to him was
humiliating, even when she should have been furious she could feel
herself on fire for him. And not because of the smoldering state of
her poor bottom.

Edwin laughed, tugging her dress
away from her body, moving away far enough to push it down over her
hips so that she was standing in nothing but her chemise and
corset. All day she’d been without her drawers, he realized as his
eyes roved over the glint of golden hair beneath the sheer fabric
of her chemise, that small patch denoting where her womanhood was.
It was enough to make a man’s blood boil, thinking about that lack
of proper undergarments. Did she do such a think often?

“I thought you would be protesting
your spanking first,” he teased, pulling at the laces on her
corset, desperate to get her undressed. Eleanor’s face blazed
hotter and she looked away, no longer able to meet his eyes. “Does
this mean you enjoyed that?”

“No,” she said stubbornly,
although she still couldn’t look at him. Then her eyelashes flicked
as the corset was tossed away and he took her breasts in his hands,
squeezing them through the silky material of her
chemise.

“Well I enjoyed it,” he said,
watching her face as he fondled her breasts and pressed his lower
body to hers. With her weight supported by the bed it was easy for
him to slide between her thighs, his cock nestled against the hot
snugness of her body. His voice lowered to a verbal caress,
seductive and hungry. “I enjoyed seeing you bent over that counter,
your gorgeous arse up in the air, turning dark pink with every slap
of the spoon. I enjoyed hearing you cry out my name, hearing you
beg me, hearing you moan.” Eleanor let out another little moan, her
eyelashes fluttering as her nipples turned to hard little pebbles
that he pinched and rolled with his fingers. The pulse in her neck
throbbed and he leaned forward to that he could lick it before
whispering directly in her ear. “I enjoyed seeing how wet you
became while I spanked you, knowing that some part of you wanted
it.”

One hand slid between their bodies and pulled
up the front of her chemise so that he could cup her womanhood with
his palm, one finger slowly sliding inside of her as Eleanor gasped
and clung to his coat. She was now straddling one broad thigh,
which was supporting his hand as the heel of his palm pressed
against her swollen pearl, his finger swirling inside of her tight
tunnel.

“No…” she whispered, a useless
denial.

“Don’t lie to me, Eleanor,” he
whispered into her ear, nibbling on the sensitive lobe, feeling her
body riding his hand and thigh, her sheath tightening around his
probing finger. “We both know that you enjoy it when I punish that
sweet arse of yours and then fuck you hard afterwards.”

Eleanor moaned, a guttural sound
of pure erotic need, arching against him. Placing his mouth over
hers, Edwin kissed her deeply, drinking in the sounds of her
passion. They rocked like that back and forth, his finger fucking
her until he felt her begin to quiver and then he pulled away,
leaving her leaning against the bed, shaken and
unsatisfied.

“Take off the chemise,” he ordered as he began
to untie his cravat.

Licking her lips, Eleanor stared
at him, her sapphire eyes dark with lust, the swollen tips of her
breasts pressing against the thin fabric, sensual need obvious in
every line of her body. For a moment he thought she might protest,
continue to fight, but then she pressed her thighs together and a
small shudder ran through her. The needs of her body conquered her
desire to rebel and she submitted to him, grasping the hem of her
chemise and pulling it over her head as he dropped his cravat to
the floor, pulled off his jacket and began unbuttoning his
waistcoat.

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