THE STRICT BRITISH BARRISTER: ACT ONE (3 page)

Her hand was shaking as she reached forward, and lifting it from its resting place she opened it up to the bookmarked page; barely breathing she began to read.

The hot sting burning Susan’s naked behind was a stark reminder that she must obey her Master. The feather, now tickling between her pussy lips making her drip with desire, made the bonds that held her arms above her head seem almost cruel. She longed to beg, to reach her practiced fingers between her legs to release the orgasm that was tormenting her, but her Master had instructed her to make not a sound. A lesson in obedience, he had said, and indeed, it was.

Brittany felt her thighs tense as the words swirled around her head. How many nights had she pleasured herself to thoughts of being tied up and blindfolded while a man had his way with her? How many times had she dreamed of being teased and toyed with, denied her release until she was desperately pleading? How many times had she read such books, wishing and praying for the man who would dominate her in such a salacious, tantalizing way.

A loud click echoed through the silent room, and she immediately knew what it signaled. She had never understood the term, frozen stiff, but it became immediately apparent. The blood rushed to her head, and like a deer in headlights she gazed at the door as it slowly opened.

Duncan Rhys-Davies, tall, striking, and bigger than life, walked in, and powerless to move or speak all she could do was stare at his brow as it crinkled into a puzzled frown.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, his clipped British accent underscoring his stern tone as his accusing eyes locked hers.

She tried to speak, to utter some word or phrase, but her throat was completely constricted, and try as he might she could not make her voice work.

“Nothing to say for yourself? Then I believe security can take care of this,” he declared, striding purposefully to the phone on the side table next to the couch.

“I’m t-terribly s-sorry,” she stammered, his abrupt move breaking her trance. “I wasn't here to steal, honestly, I just wanted to, uh, know more about you. I'm so, so sorry. Please don’t call security," she begged, “this isn’t who I am at all. Not at all…I swear!"

He paused, his hand holding the receiver.

“Is that so?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Yes, honestly,” Brittany replied huskily, thinking a wicked gleam had moved into his eyes.

“If breaking into a stranger’s room isn’t who you are, then who, exactly, are you?”

“My name’s Brittany, Brittany Carter,” she answered, her voice tremulous. "And I’m just a, a small southern girl looking for a bit, of, oh good grief, it just sounds so corny.”

“I already know your name,” he said impatiently, “and corny, as you put it, or not, I suggest you continue.”

“I just, um, wanted a bit of adventure, and, and…"

“And what?” he pressed, slowly putting down the phone.

“And I thought you seemed kind of interesting when we first, uh, ran across each other, and like I said, I just wanted to know more about you,” she confessed, dropping her eyes to the carpet. “I’ve never done anything like this before, not ever.”

“Why didn’t you just knock on my door?"

“I, uh, don’t exactly know,” she answered sheepishly, feeling like an incredibly foolish teenager.

An awkward silence settled between them, and Brittany could feel her face flushing an even deeper red.

Would you please just let me leave? This is painful, literally painful.

“Interested in that book?” he suddenly asked.

Brittany realized she was still holding the steamy erotic novel, and completely mortified she hastily dropped it back into the drawer.

“I hadn't, uh, I mean-"

“Well, since it was in that cabinet, and you took the trouble to retrieve it, then why don’t you open it back up,” he interrupted, "I must assume you found the cover intriguing and you were exploring what was inside.”

He began ambling towards her, and as he neared a rush of nervous but tantalizing tension gushed through her, transforming into a prickling torrent of goosebumps. Still unable to move her legs she stood in horror as he reached in front of her, picked up the book from the drawer, and opened it to the bookmarked page.

“The hot sting burning Susan’s naked behind reminded her to obey her Master,” he read out loud.

Brittany gulped, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her in one, large, purposeful gulp.

“Why do you suppose Susan had a hot, stinging behind?” he asked, taking the book and walking towards the sofa.

Brittany’s heart had become a jackhammer, and she didn’t know what to say or do. Her nipples were hardening, pressing against the thin cotton of her dress, betraying her licentious desires, and in a vain attempt at self-protection she crossed her arms in front of her.

“I asked you a question,” he stated, his voice taking on a much sterner tone. “Why do you suppose Susan had a hot, stinging behind?”

“I, uh, I, uh…” she stuttered.

“Look at me Brittany,” he said firmly, dropping on to the couch. “It’s a simple question. If you’re not willing to answer even a simple question I can always call security,” he threatened.

“No, please don’t,” she said hastily, her eyes lifting and darting back to him.

“Then answer me. Why do you suppose Susan had a hot, stinging behind?”

“Probably because, uh, she had behaved, uh, badly, or been disobedient,” she whimpered.

“I’m sure that’s true. Do you think breaking into my stateroom could be described as behaving badly?”

Swallowing hard, her eyes fell back to the carpet. Her face was feverish, but it was the heat burning between her legs that was far more disconcerting.

Why is this making me so excited? How can I be so terrified and hot at the same time?

“Yes,” she murmured. “I was, I mean, it was bad, very bad of me.”

“Then, wouldn’t you agree you deserve a hot, stinging behind?”

His voice was even and measured, as if he were discussing events of the day, as if his question were one of logic, not the erotic, decadent one he posed.

Brittany searched for a response, any response, except the one expected of her, and a heady silence permeated the room. The pressure was building, becoming excruciatingly uncomfortable, until she could finally stand it no longer.

“Yes,” she whimpered.

“Yes…what exactly?” he asked calmly, his perfect British accent sending another wave of heat through her sex.

“Yes, I, uh, deserve a…a hot, stinging behind,” she squeaked.

Duncan stood up, strode purposefully across the room, grabbed her hand, marched her back to the sofa, and as he sat back down he unceremoniously yanked her across his lap. Brittany yelped and struggled but he held her firmly until she settled.

“Brittany, all you have to do is say the word and I shall let you up. I won’t even call security. You can leave and that will be the end of it. Is that what you want me to do, or do you want to be punished for your disgraceful behavior? Do you want a hot, stinging behind like Susan?”

Brittany let out a plaintive cry. Why was he torturing her like this? Wasn’t it bad enough she was prone over his lap? Wasn’t it bad enough she’d been caught? Now she was being asked to stay there of her own volition, and admit to wanting a spanking.

But even as the protests swirled through her mind she knew she wanted to be spanked by him more than she’d wanted anything in her whole life. She wanted to feel the stinging slaps, to suffer the consequences of her actions, and then surrender her body to his artful attention.

His hand began smoothing itself across her upturned bottom, his fingertips tracing the outline of her panties.

“Do you want me to spank you, Brittany, or do you want me to let you go?”

“S-spank me,” she whispered.

“What did you say?” he asked firmly. “I didn’t hear that.”

“Spank me,” she repeated, her face flushing with renewed embarrassment.

“Say, spank me, please, Sir,” he instructed.

She moaned again, paused, then said,

“Spank me, please, Sir.”

“Yes, Brittany, I will. Soundly. You certainly deserve it. I suspect it’s something you’ve needed for a very long time.”

“Oh, God,” she wailed.

“God has nothing to do with this, unless he decided it was about time you paid the piper. Now, young lady, your punishment shall commence.”

He slowly lifted her dress, and his fingers began to toy with the waistband of her scanty panties.

Good grief, why am I loving this? I hate it, but I love it. Nooo, please don’t pull them down.

Her prayer went unanswered, and to her chagrin his fingernails lightly scraped her skin as he peeled down her knickers, and left them hanging around her knees.

Duncan smiled. The first unveiling. It was a special moment, one he savored, one that always held a unique attraction, and feasting his eyes upon her splendid derriere he caressed her full moons, pinching lightly, watching the blood come and go.

A virgin bottom. So deserving. It’s going to give me great pleasure to witness your white flesh turn crimson under the stinging slaps of my hand, you naughty, snooping girl.

Though simultaneously horrified and erotically intoxicated, Brittany was being strangely calmed by his soft caress. She began to breathe a little easier, thinking perhaps it had all been a big bluff, but a moment later his hand kissed her backside with peppery slaps. Kicking out as the hot sting sizzled her skin, she squirmed furiously, attempting to avoid the rapid fire swats.

“Oooohhh,” she cried. “That really hurts!”

“It’s supposed to, and it’s going to hurt some more,” he growled without missing a beat.

Her struggling became excessive, almost toppling her off his legs, until he abruptly stopped, jerking her firmly back into position across his lap.

“You’re making far too much noise. If you continue to make such a fuss I’ll be forced to gag you,” he threatened. “Your punishment is almost over, but if you continue to make it difficult for me to hold you still, and you don’t stop that annoying screeching, I shall add twenty hard spanks to your punishment. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, S-Sir,” she stammered,
twenty more? Noooo…
“I’ll be good, I swear.”

“You’ll be the only one who will suffer if you’re not,” he said smartly, then lifting his hand he resumed his work, bouncing it off her scorched bottom with a steady, quick rhythm.

Though it wasn’t easy she did her best to remain as still as she possibly could; she had no doubt he would gag her and add those nasty smacks if she didn’t do as she’d promised, and just when she thought she could no longer remain silent the spanking miraculously stopped. Breathless, her ass on fire, she reached back to touch her tender flesh, but he grabbed her wrist and held it at the small of her back.

“You’ll touch yourself only when I say so,” he said firmly. “Thank me for your punishment.”

“Thank you for spanking me, Sir,” she whimpered.

“You’re welcome. You deserved it. Now you will be still and quiet and think about what you did.”

Filled with swirling emotions, her butt burning and exposed, experiencing something about which she’d only dreamed, Brittany let out a deep breath and let her body fall limp.

He’s right, I should never have listened to that horrible voice of mine. It’s always getting me in trouble.

But you’re here, your fantasy just came true!

Go away!

I’m right, you know I’m right. And you’re hot, so, so, hot.

The debate with her imp made her wriggle, and a moment later, as if in response, his probing finger unexpectedly touched between her legs, whispering across her hot wetness.

“My goodness, Brittany, how wet you are, and look how you’re asking for more. Would you like more?”

“Yes, Sir, I would,” she breathed, “very much.”

Sinking his finger into her inviting depths, he slowly milked her need, then pressing his thumb against her engorged clit he began to press, circling and teasing, deliberately moving her purposefully forward to the brink of her climax.

“What’s the matter, Brittany? Is there something you want?” he asked, running his fingers along the inside of her thighs.

“Oh, please,” she begged, “please don’t stop. I’m aching to come.”

“But why should I let you have such pleasure? I don’t think you deserve that, do you? After sneaking into my cabin? It seems to me you should be thinking of a way to make that up to me, not asking for your own satisfaction.”

Wriggling with frustration she tried desperately to move her cunt lips closer to his wandering fingers, but her lewdness was met by a volley of sharp spanks.

“That’s not going to get you anywhere,” he growled, “answer my question.”

“Aaargh, stop,” she squealed. “What do you want me to do?”

“You can start by kneeling in front of me. Something might come to mind in such a position.”

Crawling awkwardly off his lap she fell on her knees, looking up at him plaintively.

“Good girl, please unfasten your dress and let it fall to the floor.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide.

God, now he wants me to be naked, and it’s so bright in here.

“Do I need to repeat myself? I’m not sure you want me to do that,” he warned.

Dropping her eyes she reached behind her neck and slowly untied the straps of the halter. The loose fabric fell forward, exposing her breasts, and though he said not a word she could feel his eyes resting upon them. She couldn’t deny the salacious thrill that was sizzling through her, and unzipping the side, she allowed the dress to puddle around her knees.

“Aren’t you lovely?” he crooned softly, and reaching out his hand he lightly touched the hollow of her throat.

Closing her eyes she lost herself in his wandering fingers as they journeyed from her neck, to her shoulders, then traced the outline of her full breasts, coming to rest on her nipples to tweak and pinch.

“Make sure your eyes remain closed,” he said firmly.

She waited, barely breathing, and though she could discern the sound of rustling she couldn’t identify what she was hearing. There was movement around her, then abruptly, without warning, the tip of his cock was at her mouth.