The Brat and the Master - a BDSM Erotic Novel (16 page)

‘Both?’ Jasmine suggested. ‘I quite like having my face slapped, especially if I know I’m going to get it on my bottom next.’

‘Oh God …’

‘Are you OK?’

‘No, you dozy little tart! I’m not OK. I’ve been shot, and if it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t have been shot, and yet I still want you so badly …’

He trailed off as Jasmine gave him a coy look.

‘It wasn’t all my fault,’ she said. ‘You didn’t have to fight Mark, but … but I’m glad you did. Nobody ever fought for me before.’

‘What about Paul, the almost-husband?’

Jasmine shrugged.

‘Sort of, I suppose, but not physically. You’re very brave.’

‘I’m an idiot, a pig-headed idiot, but not as big an idiot as Steelhand. OK, so the guy with the camera gave him a shock, but why did he even have his finger on the trigger if he didn’t mean to shoot me?’

‘He respects you now and says I’m yours, to keep.’

‘I didn’t want his respect,’ Adam answered, ‘but I did want you, or rather, I didn’t want him to have you. Have you seen him?’

‘No. Elaine won’t let him near me. She’s furious.’

‘With me too, I expect,’ Adam answered with sudden regret, although Elaine’s texts had shown more concern than anything.

Jasmine didn’t answer, now looking down and fidgeting with her own fingers.

‘She has every right to be,’ Adam went on, ‘but still, it could have been worse, and I do have you.’

‘Do you still want me to stay with you, then?’

‘Of course I do,’ he answered, without hesitation. ‘Although I might have to keep you chained to the wall.’

‘That was fun, while you were in Oxford,’ she told him. ‘I thought it was all a game, Adam, just for fun, to turn me on, maybe. I didn’t even realise you’d have real guns until we were driving down to the common. You’re right to call me a dozy little tart. That’s what I am, a stupid little brat who always gets her friends in trouble.’

‘You’re not stupid – not at all,’ Adam insisted. ‘But you never really had a chance, did you, with your parents’ religion. I’m surprised you didn’t run away earlier.’

‘I would have done, if it hadn’t been for Grandpa. He hated the whole religion thing, really hated it, but he always said I should bide my time and come to live with him at The Gatehouse once I was old enough. He died too soon.’

‘I’m sorry.’

Jasmine looked as if she were about to cry and Adam went on quickly, eager to cheer her up but not wanting to change the subject and risk looking insensitive.

‘So your grandfather used to own The Gatehouse?’

‘Yes – well, it’s part of the Foxdens estate, but he had it on a lease which passed to my parents after he died, and so we kept coming there. It was the only place I ever felt happy.’

‘I used to think you were the happiest girl in the world, and such a free spirit. I used to be amazed at the way you ran around the garden at Foxdens, without a care in the world, and never mind the dreaded Gardener. When I crossed that wall it was as if I was making a dangerous expedition. Sometimes, I used to pretend that I was a British commando and he was a Nazi and sneak in to pinch his flowers. I’d be terrified, and the fear never really went away. Even when I heard him spanking you, it took guts to go over.’

‘But you did it, because you wanted to be my White Knight. That was sweet.’

‘That’s true, I suppose,’ Adam went on, ‘but I wasn’t just being chivalrous. I thought there was a chance I might see your bare bottom.’

Jasmine smiled.

‘And you did,’ she said, ‘and you smacked it – and much more.’

Adam’s cock began to stir again as he found himself thinking back to their first time together. Meanwhile, Jasmine stopped fidgeting and propped herself up on one elbow, with her body across his feet.

‘So what used to happen, with The Gardener?’ he asked.

Jasmine shrugged, plainly embarrassed.

‘You know what happened. He used to spank me. He always used to spank me. I’d tease him so that I’d get it – you know, picking his flowers and generally being naughty.’

‘Yes, but how often, and why did you let him? How did he know you wouldn’t to go straight to the police afterwards? I mean, he was a cantankerous old git, but even he wouldn’t have dared put a girl over his knee as a real punishment. They’d have locked him up and dropped the key in the Atlantic. How did he know you liked it?’

‘I used to get wet, silly!’ she said with a giggle. ‘And horny too. You know what I’m like when I’m being spanked.’

‘No,’ Adam insisted, ‘I mean, the first time, before he took to spanking you regularly. How did it all start?’

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I see what you mean – when he figured out I’d enjoy it when he did me. He caught me spanking myself. I used to do it in the woods up behind the house, near those rocks, which I’m sure you remember. I’d go up when I was sure there was nobody about and play out a little fantasy for myself, imagining I was being punished. My favourite was to be Alice, over the Red Queen’s knee, or being spanked by The Carpenter while The Walrus made hurtful remarks about my behaviour and the way I looked with my knickers down. I know that’s silly, but …’

‘Not at all. It sounds rather fun. And the White Knight?’

‘He’d come and rescue me, then spank me for being a silly girl, then fuck me, just like you did. But the day Rudge – The Gardener – caught me, I was being really dirty. I was 18 at the time and I’d had a letter from Abel Walsh, the boy from the Church I was supposed to be marrying, saying how much he was looking forward to me being his wife.

We were going to be having ratatouille for tea back at The Gatehouse and I’d got a courgette. I was going to use it to break my hymen but I knew I couldn’t do it unless I was really hot behind, and I wanted to make it special anyway. I put on a blue dress and frilly panties, and as I walked up to the rocks I was imagining how it would be if Tweedledum and Tweedledee caught me and were going to get dirty with me, only for the White Knight to ride up.’

‘I can imagine that. Have you seen Tenniel’s illustrations?’

‘Of course. Grandpa had let me read his first edition years before and it became one of my favourites. I was thinking of Abel as Tweedledum and Tweedledee, both at the same time, and how the White Knight would chase them off, then tell me I had a spanking coming for letting myself get caught so easily. I’d been right in among the rocks, but I wanted to pretend I was over his knee and I came out a little, to one of my favourite places to bend over. I pulled down my panties and started to spank myself, just with my hand at first, then a hairbrush, so it really hurt. I had the courgette ready so I could stick it in when I was wet and horny enough, and imagine how the White Knight had lost his cool with spanking me and was starting to fuck me instead. But as I was spanking away, I heard someone behind me, and there he was, not the White Knight at all but …’

‘… The Gardener,’ Adam finished for her. ‘Yes, I can see why he’d have realised you liked it, and that he could get away with spanking you himself if he struck a deal with you. So he spanked you then and there?’

She shook her head, her face now pink and flustered with embarrassment and arousal. Adam let his hand move to his cock, adjusting it so that the bulge wasn’t quite as obvious. Jasmine saw and her mouth flickered into a smile before she began to speak again.

‘That was on my 19th birthday, not long after he caught me. He came to The Gatehouse and asked if I’d like to choose something from his house, for a present. Foxdens was full of amazing things – beautiful old clothes and jewellery, and all sorts. I didn’t expect him to let me have anything really nice, because he was a bit of an old Scrooge, but maybe a ring, or the sort of book my parents didn’t want me to read.’

She paused, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again, her voice quiet and strangely distant.

‘My family was going down to the coast later, and I had my swimming costume on under my dress – a white dress. Bikini bottoms anyway, dark blue. They showed through my dress and I caught his eyes on me as we went upstairs to look through the old jewellery. I was embarrassed about what he’d seen in the woods, but at the time he’d just walked away, so I thought he disapproved but had decided it was best not to say anything. After that look I knew… well, that he liked my bottom anyway, and as we were sorting through the jewellery he found some old photos from his time in America, in the ’50s. Looking back, I think he’d put them there on purpose, because one showed some sorority girls mucking about, spanking each other with paddles. He told me about hazing, and the way they give each other birthday spankings.’

‘It sounds carefully planned to me,’ Adam put in.

‘I’m sure it was, but you know what I’m like with talking dirty, and I was getting more and more turned on. It was like we were conspiring together too, with a shared secret, a very naughty one. I was sitting right next to him and before long, he had his hand on my bottom, just gently, stroking me, and then patting me. I thought he was going to put me over his knee and I wouldn’t have stopped him, but he carried on talking, saying how nice I’d look in a cheerleader’s outfit, with big, colourful panties showing under my skirt – spankies they call them, don’t they? Then he told me how I’d be given my birthday spanking over the head cheerleader’s knee, with my panties pulled down and all my friends laughing at me while they watched. I knew he wanted to do it, so I got over his knee …’

‘You got over his knee of your own accord?’

‘Yes. I wanted that spanking so badly, and I knew he would do it and keep it to himself. It was so nice, so free, to have my dress turned up and my bottom smacked for fun. He said I’d get one for every year, but he soon forgot about that. I made a bit of a fuss, just because I felt I ought to, but by the time he got to 30 or so I gave up counting and let him get on with it, spanking me for the sake of spanking me. I don’t know how long I was over his knee, but it was ages, and he was spanking me and playing with my bottom all that time, and telling me how lovely I was and how precious I was to him.’

‘But you weren’t bare?’ Adam asked, his cock now an aching rod in his hand.

‘Not that time,’ Jasmine answered. ‘He said my bikini bottoms ought to come down, and I’d have let him, but he didn’t do it, not then. Maybe he felt it was going too far, but it was always a game, and like all the best games there were rules. He could only spank me if I was naughty, or on special occasions, and he could only take my knickers down if I was extra-naughty, although that one used to get ignored a lot, I admit.’

‘And you agreed these rules?’

‘Oh no, nothing was written down. That’s just the way it was, right from the start. He did sort of sound me out, though, each time, like threatening me to see if I’d play along, or suggesting it was a special day. I never got it if I didn’t want it, but once I’d been naughty, that was it – I was going over his knee.’

‘How naughty did you have to be to get your knickers pulled down? Only I remember the day I watched you, he said something about decency.’

‘He’d often do that, just to bring it home to me that my panties were down and I looked rude from behind, I think. He was very hung up about it, though, more than I was, because I’ve always loved being naked – because my parents brought me up to think it was supposed to be a dreadful sin, I suppose. I think it was my third time when he first did me bare. I’d cut one of those beautiful dark roses he used to grow and I’d put it in my hair. That was a spanking offence, no question, and the moment he saw me, he put me down over his knee, at the kitchen table. He had my dress up straight away too, and I was only in little panties, so it didn’t make much difference, but he kept saying they ought to come down, just like the first time of all, only this time he did it, after telling me he was going to about 20 times.’

‘I suppose he was struggling with his conscience.’

‘Probably, or he knew what would happen once he’d got my bottom bare. His cock had got hard those couple of times before when he’d had me over his knee but so far, he hadn’t got it out. It was like he just couldn’t help it, once he had my knickers pulled down. Now I was bare, he started telling me how I’d have to say thank you to him for punishing me. I didn’t even know what he meant, until he sat me on his knee with my panties still down and my bottom all hot on his leg. He took out his cock and put my hand around it, under his own, so it was like he was making me wank him off as he pulled up and down – as if I didn’t know what to do.’

‘And did you?’

‘Yes. I wasn’t that innocent, despite my parents’ best efforts to keep me pure until my wedding day. Do you remember George, who used to deliver the milk, with the red hair and freckles?’

‘Yes. I had a fight with him when we were kids.’

‘Well, a few months before The Gardener started spanking me, George taught me how to wank him off.’

‘That doesn’t surprise me in the least. What happened?’

‘Oh, he was always flirting with me, telling me I didn’t need to bother with a top when I was sunbathing, that sort of thing. Anyway, this one time I’d gone down to the shop to get some extra cream, but I didn’t have enough money. He was serving and he said I could have it for free if I did him a favour. That seemed OK, so he took me out the back and pulled out his cock.’

‘And you didn’t mind?’

‘Why should I? He had a lovely cock, really big – and pale, a bit like Cornfed’s. I told him I didn’t know what to do, so he showed me, how to hold it and where to rub and everything. He said I ought to pull my top up too to show off my tits, so I did that, and let him feel me while I wanked him off.’

‘I’m surprised he didn’t fuck you!’

‘He did, but that was later, when I was with Paul. We had to go down to Plymouth and I wanted to see Foxdens again, so I took a bus out while he was busy. I met George in the Black Dog and he ended up having me up against the wall behind the pub.’

‘You’re terrible!’

‘No I’m not. I’d only had you and Paul up until then. How many girls have you had?’

‘More than two,’ Adam admitted. ‘Did you go any further, with The Gardener?’

‘He never slept with me, if that’s what you mean,’ she answered. ‘You know. You took my virginity. He used to get dirty with me sometimes, but he was never really sure of himself. Usually, I’d just sit on his knee with my panties still down so he could feel my bottom up while I tossed him off, like the first time, or he’d make me pose, in a spanking position, while he did it himself. The worst I ever did was suck his cock, but he always tasted of compost. I think he used to feel himself while he was doing his garden.’