by Monica Belle
She realised she’d begun to babble, expecting to be whipped over the banister rail for spanking at any moment, or worse, real displeasure. He merely looked thoughtful for a moment before replying.
‘You still have a great deal to learn, Laura, including what it means to give yourself fully to a man. I expect complete faith, of course, but it must be given freely, not forced. Do you want correction for your thoughts? Think carefully before you answer.’
Laura hesitated. Whoever she’d been with, however much in love, other people had always intruded into her darker fantasies, a habit she’d tried to put down to her vivid imagination rather than any real desire to be unfaithful. She doubted Charles could cure her of it, but felt she should be prepared to try.
‘Yes. I think that would be right.’
‘Very well. How many times did you imagine yourself being punished by somebody other than me?’
Laura decided she had to be fully honest.
‘How many times did I think about it, or how many times did I come over it?’
His eyebrows rose a fraction and there was steel in his voice as he spoke again.
‘You masturbated over other people spanking you?’
Laura looked at the floor.
‘And caning me.’
‘How many times?’
‘Um … about eight.’
‘Eight?’
‘Maybe ten, or twelve, but only other three different people.’
She raised her eyes, only to lower them abruptly, unable to meet his stern gaze as he continued.
‘So let me get this straight. You have masturbated or orgasmed at least eight times over the thought of being punished by other people, and how many times thinking about me?’
‘Oh, lots more. I can’t stop it, ever since you spanked me. My head’s just full of it, all the time. I have to do it before I can get to sleep, usually twice.’
She was blushing hot, wriggling her toes and fiddling with her fingers in her embarrassment. At last she managed to raise her eyes again, to find him looking down at her with a quizzical expression.
‘I’m sorry. I suppose you think I’m a slut?’
‘No. I like a woman to accept her sexual feelings, and I admire your honesty in telling me. I suspect these thoughts will die as you come to understand your true nature more fully, but for the time being, if you genuinely feel that you want correction, then perhaps we’d better go in after all.’
As he spoke he took a bunch of keys from a pocket, one of which he pushed into the padlock. Laura stepped close as he opened the door onto a bright, airy room, larger than she had expected and somewhat like a gym, with wooden bars against one wall of scrubbed brick and ropes hanging from the beams at the peak of the tower some twelve feet above her head. There were also pieces of padded furniture on the floor, but not vaulting horses or parallel bars. The nearest was a cage, constructed of thick wooden bars and just about large enough to hold a full grown woman if she stayed curled up or on all fours. Beyond that was a curiously designed bench, also of dark polished wood, but upholstered with black leather and plainly designed to be knelt on in such a way that her bottom would be the highest part of her body and completely vulnerable. Black leather straps on short chains hung from the legs of the device.
Laura swallowed and glanced at Charles, thinking for a moment of how little she really knew him and that nobody knew where she was, but he merely sat down on yet another piece of unusual furniture, a small stool topped with black leather. Behind him, to either side of the door, she noticed twin lines of hooks fastened to boards, and that from each hook hung an implement plainly intended for discipline, and therefore her own discipline.
To the left were ropes, chains, cuffs for her wrists and ankles, collars, an assortment of links and various things made of leather and metal the purpose of which was not immediately obvious. Nearest the door on the right, and most convenient to hand for somebody coming into the room, was a long dark cane not unlike the one she had made herself. More canes followed, of different designs, then leather straps, paddles of leather or wood, crops, various whips, and other things she had no name for but which were all too clearly designed for use on a human bottom, her bottom. He was looking at her, his face full of wicked amusement and she realised she had been staring open mouthed at the array of instruments. She managed to find her voice.
‘Is this a dungeon?’
‘Technically, I suppose it is, given that the term derives from an old French word for a Lord’s tower. I prefer to call it my “necessary room”, which suits my philosophy and makes it easier to mention in public.’
‘I can imagine. Have you … have you had many girls in here?’
‘No. As you can see, it’s all very new. I’ve only just finished the conversion, although some of the equipment has seen some use, this whipping bench for instance.’
He had moved to the padded bench, smiling thoughtfully as if in memory of having some helpless girl strapped into place across it. Expecting a sharp order to get into some lewd position for her punishment, Laura hung her head and folded her hands in her lap, doing her best to seem contrite and accepting despite the frantic beating of her heart and the sick fear in her stomach. At last he spoke.
‘But I’m being a dreadful host. I haven’t even offered you a drink. Coffee, fruit juice perhaps, or a cold beer?’
Laura looked up.
‘I thought you were going to punish me.’
‘I am. In fact, I shall tell you exactly what will happen to you. I am going to introduce you to the cane, as you seem to find the idea of having it used on you so appealing. You will be given six of the best, the traditional punishment for unruly girls, on your bare bottom, of course, but not just yet. A little wait is always good for a girl’s sense of apprehension.’
Laura was forced to swallow the word that rose unbidden into her throat and to substitute a response less likely to get her punishment increased.
‘Yes, Mr Latchley.’
‘Good girl, you learn fast. Now, pop off your knickers, just to keep you in mind of what is going to happen to you.’
‘I don’t think I’m likely to forget.’
‘Nevertheless, knickers off.’
Laura had not intended to disobey, or even hesitate, and was already reaching up under her dress. He watched, cool and amused rather than lustful, as she levered her French knickers down and off, folding them neatly and placing them on the whipping bench. Only then did he speak.
‘Now show me.’
Without hesitation Laura lifted her dress to her waist, displaying her bare bottom and sex for his inspection. She made a slow turn, and with her back to him pushed her hips out to fully show off her rear view before once more facing him, her dress still held up as she waited for the order to be allowed to cover herself. He gave an approving nod.
‘Very good. One might even think you were already partially trained?’
It was clearly a question, but she hesitated before remembering her promise to be honest with him.
‘There was a boy, once, Tommy Fuller. He taught me what men like to see. Some of my college friends used to strip too, to earn money for their courses. I did it once.’
‘I see. Some argue that sexual display comes naturally to a woman, but I think it’s important to distinguish between instinct, such as pushing out your bottom as if in invitation for entry, and what needs to be learnt, such as painting your lips red to mimic your cunt. With you I suspect there is more of the instinctive than the learnt, and that your friends really only helped you to express what you knew anyway. You may drop your dress.’
‘But I thought …’
‘I said your punishment would come later. Now drop your dress, or I might be tempted to make you pin it up at the back and leave it that way until you are ready.
Laura obeyed, covering herself in mixed relief and regret. Any other man she knew would have had her then and there, she was sure, first the cane and then his cock inside her, but not the De
vil. With him she had to wait. He spoke again.
‘How about that drink then? Don’t worry, we’ll come back later for your caning. I thought, perhaps, tea on the lawn, although it is a little breezy, so I’d better get you done first. Shall we say four-thirty?’
‘That’s four hours! I’ve already waited five days. Please, Charles, I need to get it over with!’
He merely chuckled.
15
THEY ATE LUNCH in the dining room, Charles explaining the best way to make salad dressing and enlarging on the history of the building while Laura fiddled with her cutlery and thought of thin dark canes and sore bottom cheeks. He had also opened a bottle of white wine, which they finished in the study, a large book-lined room occupying the entire lower part of the old tower and which carried the same air of masculine well being as his living room and bedroom, but yet more pronounced. The big old-fashioned armchairs upholstered in studded green leather suited him to perfection, as did the dark wood of the other furniture and the ranks of books, as if it were all an extension of his personality.
With the wine and the overwhelming sense of his presence, Laura found it very easy to picture herself not just as his lover but as his plaything, even what he had implied she would become, his slave. She was also very aware of the time, with the constant tick of a grandfather clock between two high bookcases cutting down the time to her punishment. He seemed indifferent, a trifle sleepy even, talking casually and sipping his wine, but always watching her. It had been over an hour since he’d even mentioned what to her was the essence of their relationship before he suddenly changed the conversation.
‘Going back to what I was saying about the word dungeon, it really is best not to use it. I fear that the popular press and the film industry link the word, and indeed any lifestyle that involves physical discipline for women, with the worst sort of people. You know the sort of things, maniacs in hockey masks with chainsaws, cannibals who dress in human skin, although I confess that I may be getting my references mixed up. Of course, nothing could be further from the truth, but I think it best to keep the fact that you are under my discipline private. A little exhibitionism is a different matter.’
‘You did send me into Cambridge to buy a cane.’
‘You didn’t tell anybody what it was for, did you?’
‘No, but I was sure they’d guess.’
‘Unlikely, unless they themselves are corporal punishment enthusiasts, but what I was going to say was that it is important for you to be able to trust me. After all, we’ve only just met, and we will be alone a lot of the time.’
‘I trust you, and I’m good at spotting creeps and nutters.’
‘Your instincts are correct, although there are many who would classify me as a nutter simply because I like to give women physical punishment, and you as well, for enjoying being on the receiving end. The important thing is that your family, your friends, your work colleagues should know that you and I are in a relationship, but not the more intimate details.’
‘That’s fine. I didn’t mean to keep it a secret.’
‘Good. Then telephone somebody to let them know you’re here; if you haven’t done so already?’
Laura nodded, aware that she’d been foolish and once more grateful for his easy control. Taking her mobile from her bag, she began to punch out her parents’ number, only to think better of it and ring Mrs Phipp’s instead, to ask after Smudge and say where she was. Charles waited until Laura was finished.
‘Smudge?’
‘My dog. He’s a mastiff, sort of. He came from a pedigree breeder but I think his mum must have escaped for a bit.’
‘I would have guessed that you preferred cats.’
‘That will be the first time you’ve been wrong about me, but why?’
‘Dogs are loyal, devoted to a single master, characteristics you show rather than appreciate in others. Nobody ever really owns a cat, and so those who prefer to be owned themselves usually prefer cats.’
Laura shrugged, still unsure about the issue of being owned. To be faithful was one thing, to be punished something she craved, but to see herself as the property of a man still seemed a step too far. Charles didn’t labour the point, leaving Laura to her still rising frustration. Any other man, she was sure, would already have tried to get her into bed, and after all, just because she had to wait for her beating didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy themselves first. He didn’t seem inclined to make a move, so after a few minutes more, with the last of the wine bottle finished, she took matters into her own hands.
‘Aren’t you going to take me upstairs?’
‘It’s only just gone two.’
‘I mean, to the bedroom.’
He shrugged and put down his empty glass. Rising from his seat, he extended a hand to Laura. She took it, allowing herself to be led from the room and up the stairs. On the landing the view through the open door into the ‘necessary room’ gave her a sharp, sweet pang, but he took her the other way. His bed was a large solid affair, framed in plain polished wood much like the whipping bench and spread with a cream-coloured coverlet. There was a faint masculine scent.
Charles pulled her towards him, kissing her forehead, her cheek, her mouth, which came open to the pressure as he took her in his arms. He began to stroke her hair and the nape of her neck as they kissed, quickly bringing her desire to boiling point. Pushing a hand down, she tugged his zip low, burrowing within to free his cock and balls. Their kisses grew more urgent as she began to knead him and tug at his shaft, already desperate to get him erect and inside her.
He let her do as she pleased, yet stayed firmly in control, first easing her dress open and down then pushing her gently into a sitting position on the bed. Laura took the hint, pulling him in by his now half stiff cock to take it in her mouth, clumsy in her eagerness as she began to suck and squeeze at his balls. He took her by the hair, a gentle grip yet firm enough to let her know that she was being held in place while he stiffened in her mouth.
As she sucked she kicked her shoes off and unfastened her bra, freeing her breasts into her hands, to hold them and stroke her nipples hard, then to rub them against his now swollen cock as she lifted herself a little. Charles tightened his grip, pushing himself into her cleavage and rubbing harder until he was fully ready, his erection standing proud between her breasts, thick and long and pale.
Laura’s thighs were open across his legs, her sex ready as she rubbed her breasts and face on his cock and balls, eager to get as much of him as she could until he chose the moment for her penetration. It soon came, as he pushed her shoulders down, laying her on the bed and lifting her legs to spread her open in front of him. She took his cock, rubbing it against her sex as his hands explored her thighs, stroking her flesh through her stockings and higher still, on the sensitive flesh at the tuck of her bottom cheeks and around her anus.
He touched, tickling the little hole and Laura felt herself tighten, giggling for just how open she was in front of him, with every intimate part of her body exposed to his eyes and to his erection. His cock was still in her hand as she rubbed it on her sex, knowing she could come if he let her be for a few moments more, but he took hold, guiding himself lower, and in, pushing himself deep with a single thrust. A moan of pleasure escaped Laura’s throat as she filled and she surrendered, giving in completely to the glorious feeling of having his cock moving inside her.
Her hands moved to her breasts, kneading her own flesh and pulling at her nipples as her pleasure rose. He’d got her by her thighs, gripped hard to pull himself in, ever faster and more urgent. Her back began to arch and she was rubbing on him as he pushed inside her, completely abandoned to her pleasure and ready to come. The first contractions started and her hand went down, snatching at herself and gasping out her ecstasy as the thrusting motion inside her rose to a frenzied climax. She was coming, and so was he, a long moment of perfect bliss that she wished could last forever and faded only when he was spent and had pulled free.
T
hey collapsed together on the bed, Laura quickly snuggling up to his chest, lost in a golden, happy daze. It had been brief, urgent, but a delightful culmination of her need for him, leaving her content just so long as she was cuddled into him. He held her, stroking her back and bottom, very gently, yet with a possessive intimacy that filled her with reassurance and a growing sense of love.
She had quickly lost all sense of time, while he seemed content simply to hold her, something none of the men she had been with before had done. After a while she went to the bathroom, returning to climb back onto his bed and once more snuggle close, relaxing in a state of bliss with the warm sunlight playing on her naked body, until at last a sudden, sharp slap to her bottom roused her from the edge of sleep. Laura purred as she snaked a hand to his cock, only to have another firm slap applied to her bottom.
‘Oh no you don’t, young lady. It’s nearly half-past-four, time you were punished.’
Laura sat up, her stomach instantly full of butterflies and her throat tight. She had had no idea it was so late, but his bedside clock confirmed the truth. He spoke again as he put his cock away.
‘Will this be your first time. Tell the truth.’
‘Yes. I’ve been spanked, but never caned.’
‘Then I’ll warm you up, which I wouldn’t normally do for a punishment.’
‘Warm me up?’
‘Like this.’
Laura squeaked in surprise and alarm as she was pulled face down on the bed. He leant over her, trapping her body, and began to spank, applying firm swats to her cheeks, which quickly had her kicking and wriggling in his grip, while the sudden transition from being held lovingly in his arms to being pinned down to have her bottom smacked was almost too much. It hurt too, setting her gasping and begging for mercy, but he took no notice, spanking her until at least her bottom had begun to warm enough to make her want to push it up in pleasure. He stopped immediately.
‘That will do. Now, stockings off, please. I think I’ll have you fully naked, as this is a formal punishment.’
