On the Bare (29 page)

‘You’ve been a very bad girl, Josephine, and you need to be taught a firm lesson. Writing stories is one thing, but deceit is quite another. I intend to put you over my knee and give you a good sound spanking. On your bare bottom.’

His gaze was hard to meet and even harder to look away from. Josephine shifted from foot to foot throughout the reprimand. Her faced blazed hotly as his voice unravelled her defences.
Good sound spanking
. The words did things to her.

She had a sudden little-girl memory of deliberately stranding herself in her treehouse whenever a storm was forecast. Alone, she could shriek as the wind rattled the flimsy structure and rain sliced through the thin boards. It felt enough like danger that her imagination could run wild. In her mind she was the prisoner of an evil man who kept her tied to the table leg and sent ransom notes to her parents. Once she had scrawled a note on a scrap of paper (
HELP IVE BEEN KIDNAPPED
) and pushed it through a crack in the boards. The wind whisked it away and a distraught neighbour two doors down called the police. The officer who escorted Josephine out of the treehouse shook his finger at her and told her that she deserved a good sound spanking for her little prank. Those exact words. After that her fantasy kidnapper punished every escape attempt with his rough heavy hand.

‘That’s right, my girl,’ Clive was saying now, and his voice was that of both policeman and kidnapper. ‘I’m going to teach you a lesson you won’t forget for a very long time. Do you understand?’

She could barely form the words. ‘Yes, sir.’

He nodded curtly. ‘Then come here. Over my knee, young lady.’

Josephine whimpered softly as she lowered herself, trembling, into the position she had imagined countless times but never experienced. Over the knee. It was a position that existed in no other context, for no other purpose. It was the ultimate presentation of the bottom. Traditional, belittling and effective. She was humbled more than she ever could have imagined.

She pressed her hands against the floor as she stretched her legs out behind her. Her belly rested comfortably across the warm expanse of his thighs and she stared down at the floorboards. She could see his polished shoe if she lowered her head, just behind the leg of the chair.

He rested his hand on her bottom and she jumped at the touch. His soft chuckle made her writhe with embarrassment. She felt his fingers creep down to the hem of her dress and she gasped as he lifted it up. He took his time carefully arranging the skirt over her waist, smoothing it ritually into place.

She tried to imagine the view from his perspective: her legs sheathed in sheer black stockings, her black lace panties accentuating the peach cleft of her bottom, the suspender belt that would frame the target perfectly when her cheeks were bared. When. Not if. She crossed her ankles as he teased a finger underneath the scalloped lacy edge of her panties.

‘Very fetching,’ Clive said. ‘It almost seems a shame to take these down. But you know very well that a proper spanking must be administered on the bare.’

And with that he peeled the delicate lacy knickers down to her knees, slowly exposing her round pale cheeks. She squirmed and closed her eyes, wondering how it was possible to blush any more deeply.

‘And how delightfully it presents your bottom,’ he said, caressing her smooth virginal skin. He teased the thin straps of her suspender belt, tracing the lines from her waist to her stocking tops. He squeezed each well presented cheek as if to test its resilience and slid his hand over the gentle curves. At last he gave her an affectionate little pat. He locked his left hand around her waist and raised his right knee, forcing her back to arch, lifting her bottom a little higher.

Josephine squeezed her thighs together, clenching her cheeks as she waited for him to begin. The preliminaries seemed to have lasted hours. Then she felt his weight shift under her and his hand connected sharply with her right cheek. She squealed at the loud smack, struggling in his
grasp
as the stinging handprint penetrated her skin. She could feel the outline of each finger as the pain intensified. Then he did the same to her left cheek.

She kicked her legs up behind her, shielding her bottom with her shoes. He brushed her feet aside and smacked her again, eliciting a howl of pain.

Another smack, then another. And Josephine realised that she’d been right all along; some fantasies were better left unexplored. This was more painful than she’d ever imagined. Of course, she’d written about punishments that were excruciating, agonising, all those superlative descriptors. But this
hurt
. How could she ever have thought she’d like the sensation of a hand connecting ruthlessly with the tender flesh of her bottom? She heard herself begging and pleading as she struggled.

‘Be still, young lady,’ he admonished. ‘You had best get comfortable because you’re going to be here for a good long while.’

‘But I – oww! No, it hurts too much! I don’t like it! Oww! Please, no!’

Again that soft menacing laugh. ‘Oh no, my dear. It’s too late for that. This isn’t about what you want; it’s about what you
need
. And what you need, what you
deserve
, is a very red and sore bottom.’

He delivered several more lively smacks as he continued to scold her.

‘This is punishment, Josephine. Punishment for a naughty young lady who tells lies. I intend to make a thorough job of it and I am not going to stop until I’m sure you’ve learnt your lesson. Do you understand me, miss?’

Smack!

‘Oh! Yes, but –’

‘Yes what?’
Smack!

‘Oww! Yes, sir! But I –’

‘No “buts”, my girl. You’ve had this coming for a long time and I’m going to make sure I leave a lasting impression.’

She writhed, mortified by his absolute control. He didn’t neglect a single inch of her bottom and he seemed to enjoy
describing
it to her. How it was turning from a rosy blush to a vivid scarlet. The shame and the pain were overwhelming and after one particularly hard swat to the undercurve of her left cheek, Josephine squealed and thrust her right hand back to shield herself.

Clive caught her wrist and pinned it in the small of her back. How many times had she written that little detail?

‘Naughty, naughty girl,’ he said, punctuating his words with well placed smacks.

Josephine stared at the wood grain in the floorboards below her as though seeing clearly for the first time. Her imagination could never have conjured such detail.

‘You’ll have to eat your dinner standing up tonight, won’t you, young lady?’

Oh, it was quite another thing to experience this for real. She’d had no idea. ‘Please, sir,’ she begged. ‘I’m sorry!’

Clive was unmoved. ‘You’re only saying that because all your unfortunate heroines say it.’

As the spanking wore on, she could literally feel her bottom getting redder and redder under his heavy hand. She felt her knickers slip down her legs until they were tangled around her ankles. They hobbled her until she got them free of one foot, kicking so violently she made the chair rock. Clive had a remedy for that. He wrapped his right leg behind her knees, pinning her down over his left knee.

For a long time the only sounds were the distinctive and unmistakable slaps of a hand on bare flesh, accompanied by Josephine’s yelps and whimpers.

She prayed no one could hear what was going on. She’d always written about hand-spankings as the mildest of disciplinary acts. Usually just a prelude to the strap or cane. But now she knew. Clive’s hand was as painful as anything she could imagine. And the embarrassment only enhanced it.

At the same time, she couldn’t deny her body’s response. She squeezed her legs together as she began to go with the pain, to ride it like a wave.

‘You’re going to have some marks to show for this,’ he told her.

She pictured herself admiring her bruised backside in the mirror, as she’d had so many of her characters do after being punished. The image was both horrifying and alluring.

‘Are you learning your lesson, young lady?’

‘Yes, sir, yes I am, I promise!’ she gasped, breathless and exhausted.

His rhythm slowed and he finally stopped, caressing her sore and throbbing cheeks with a hand that must have been just as red. She lay limply across his lap, panting and a little disoriented. Pinpricks of lights were firing across her field of vision and the pulsing heat in her bottom was fading from pain into something else.

‘Now then, Josephine,’ he said, ‘I haven’t finished with you yet. There’s something else you have to do.’

She moaned softly in response to his words, unable to stop herself wriggling.

‘I’m going to give you six more smacks, and I want you to hold still for these. They’re going to be very hard, but I think they will be good for you. After all, you don’t want your first spanking to be just a few love-pats, do you? No, it needs to be the real thing.’

A cruel joke, but she had to admit that she wanted it now. Lowering her head submissively, she braced herself as he tightened his grip on her waist.

The first two smacks wrenched wild cries from her, but she managed to stay in position. Her body tensed and released as she absorbed the sting of each one. She let the pain sink in and then he was talking to her again.

‘This is just the beginning, you know. There’s plenty more to teach you about, so many variations on a simple theme. Positions, implements, scenarios … There are so many ways you can be punished.’

She already knew. And the idea of experiencing every situation she’d written was daunting.

Another pair of smacks and she writhed and whimpered.

‘You’ll be even more prolific after you’ve experienced the possibilities. I can’t wait to introduce you to the hairbrush, the paddle, the tawse, the cane, the birch.’

It was almost over. Josephine held her breath as he gave her the final two swats, which were devastating in their intensity. But she obeyed, accepting the pain without struggling. Drained, she hung exhausted and spent over his knee, relieved that it was over and yet strangely hungry for more.

Clive caressed her bottom and she flinched. Even the most gentle touch was excruciating.

‘Now then,’ he said, unlocking his leg from around hers. ‘Have we developed a healthy respect for reality, young lady?’

She nodded slowly, unsure how to process the barrage of sensations.

‘Is that how we answer when we’ve been spanked?’ he prompted smilingly, as though talking to a child.

‘Yes, sir,’ she murmured, blushing. ‘We have.’

He released her wrist and helped her to her feet. She felt drunk and she leaned on him for balance, reaching behind to touch the flaming skin of her punished bottom.

‘What do we say?’

Josephine squirmed, wrapping herself in his comforting arms. ‘We say thank you, sir.’

‘Good girl.’

He gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead and told her to get dressed. ‘Back to work with you, now,’ he said. ‘You have a new story to write.’

‘Not so fast,’ she said, looking pointedly at the champagne. ‘There’s something else I think you might be able to help me with.’

‘Oh?’

‘I’ve never actually written a sex scene before.’

Josephine ran the spellchecker and printed the story. She knew Clive would love it, especially since she had used their real names. She hoped he’d see it was more than just another story.

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Epub ISBN 9780753520499

www.randomhouse.co.uk

This book is a work of fiction.
Always make sure you practise safe, sane and consensual sex.

Published by Nexus Enthusiast 2009

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Copyright © Fiona Locke 2009

Fiona Locke has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental
.

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First published in Great Britain in 2009 by
Nexus Enthusiast
Virgin Books
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