by Ashe Barker
“I believe I may have to, sir.”
“And I believe I may require a more effective deterrent then, if you are ever to learn some self-control.”
“I am in your hands, sir.”
“Insolent girl. You would do well to retain some manners. Your current situation is precarious.”
His tone had hardened, and Victoria shivered. The orgasm had been wonderful, but she now wondered about the wisdom of relinquishing her efforts to suppress it. “I apologise, sir. I meant no offence. It’s just—difficult. When you do those things to me. I can’t help how I react, I have no control…”
“I know that, and you will improve with practice. Punishment is a part of the learning process, an important part. You will learn the lessons and do better in future. I do not want excuses, I expect you to obey.”
“I know. I will, sir.”
“We will see. Now that you are quite yourself again, we continue.”
Victoria flattened her lips in determined concentration as he returned his attention to her pussy.
His fingers had been inside her the entire time, and he resumed his rhythmic caress of her inner sweet spot. She resisted the impulse to squeeze around him, preferring to ponder the correct price to pay for her next consignment of merino wool. The tactic worked for all of twenty seconds before her body was clenching of its own volition.
Adam stopped and withdrew his fingers. “Victoria, are you really trying?”
“Yes, sir. I can manage.” And she could, now that he had ceased tormenting her. She turned her thoughts to the intricacies of recreating a perfect shade of crimson using the latest synthetic dyes.
“I believe I do not have your full attention, Victoria. This will not do at all.”
“Sir, I…”
Adam drove three fingers into her pussy, coating them in her juices then proceeded to smear the moisture around the small pucker of her anus.
“Sir, what are you doing?”
“I will fuck you here, though not today. First, you must be prepared, become ready to accept my cock.”
Whatever Victoria might have expected, it was not that. Despite her lack of direct experience prior to the last few days, she had garnered sufficient working knowledge of the process of procreation that not much of what he had done to her had come as a total surprise. The red ribbon was perhaps an exception, but as for the rest… This though, this was beyond anything she might have imagined.
“Sir, Mr. Luke, you cannot do that.”
“No?” He proceeded to ease his finger through her tight opening.
“No!” Victoria attempted to draw away, to wriggle, but there was no give at all in her restraints. She settled for squeezing her rear hole tight shut, but it was already too late. He had buried his finger in there, up to the first knuckle.
Adam used his free hand to part her buttocks in order to gain better access. “The more you resist, the harder you make this for yourself. This is happening, Victoria. Accept it. Or say your word and I will free you now.”
“I, I… please, sir, do not force me to do this.”
“There is no force involved. You can stop me at any time. You know how.”
She shook her head, tears flowing down her cheeks. Tears of defeat? Of humiliation? She did not know. All she knew was that she did not want this, but would allow it anyway, because the alternative was to use that word. She was desperate, but not yet at her limit it would seem.
With a sob, she relaxed her bottom and allowed him to drive his finger fully inside.
“Look at me, Victoria.”
She shook her head again, mortified at the sensations he was evoking as he slowly withdrew his finger, then slid it back inside her.
“Victoria, obey me. Open your eyes. Now.”
She had no choice. Victoria forced her eyelids apart and met his gaze. She expected anger, exasperation at the fuss she had made. Instead, she found warmth, pride, and approval.
“Good girl. You did well. Now, your reward.”
He smiled at her as he laid the pad of his thumb over her plump clit and circled slowly.
“Oh, oh, God, Don’t… I can’t…”
“You may climax. Relax now, enjoy yourself.”
His voice was soft, low, achingly gentle. Victoria needed no further urging. Her body responded, sweeping aside any objections from her rational, more proper self.
This was not real, could not possibly be. The real Victoria Wynne would never contemplate travelling all the way to London on a train to meet a man, a near stranger to her, a man she knew wanted nothing other than to take his perverse pleasure with her. She would certainly not allow that man to tie her to a bed, naked. She would never in a million years contemplate allowing him to force orgasms from her, threaten to spank her, then insert his finger into her arse and suggest she might like to orgasm again.
But this Victoria would. The Victoria now clenching and writhing helplessly on the bed would do exactly that and more. She gasped and sighed as he caressed her clit, stroking, teasing, urging. With a long, low moan Victoria gave herself up to it, allowed the waves of sheer pleasure to wash over and through her. She spasmed, every muscle tightening then releasing in a surge of delight. She was shaking, trembling, her head spinning. Even as she started to recover her wits, he rubbed her swollen bud again to whip her into another frenzy of lust, then another as he brought his tongue back into play.
He had scared her, pushed her mercilessly, made her do the unimaginable, but the pleasure he now heaped upon her was worth it. She climaxed again, then a third time as he played her body like a violin, drawing every last shimmering note from her before at last he allowed her to rest.
Adam withdrew his finger from her now receptive arse. He dropped a light kiss onto her pussy and another onto her smooth mound, then murmured an ‘excuse me, one moment, please’ before washing his hands in a small basin of water. He dried them on a napkin, then reached to unfasten the rope binding her right knee.
“Now, I fuck you.”
It was an announcement, a demand. Victoria saw no cause to dispute it.
“Yes, sir.” She allowed her legs to relax, only now realising how stiff she had become from straining against the rope as she sought to thrust her hips forward to greet his skilled fingers. She stretched them out on the bed, her hips still raised by the pillows under her. Adam did not remove them. He simply hooked his arms under her knees and hauled her against him. He positioned his cock fast, then drove his erection deep into her.
Victoria screamed. She grabbed his shoulders with her hands and clung to him.
“Sir, sir…”
“Yes? Tell me.”
“I want… I want…”
“This?” He withdrew, then slammed into her again.
“Yes! Oh, sweet Jesus, yes…” She was close to sobbing, her pussy convulsing as he rammed into her fast and hard. She let her head drop back, her back arched as she clenched around him, her inner walls squeezing around the solid shaft filling her.
Adam set up a powerful, demanding rhythm, each stroke long and deep. Victoria dug her nails into his shoulders as she climaxed again, but he did not appear to mind, He continued to drive his cock into her, his own guttural sounds now louder than hers. He reared up, his eyes closed, then he sank his cock into her and held still.
Victoria gasped again as he twitched violently inside her, the head of his cock nudging her cervix. Then, in a final surge of possessiveness she could not quite explain to herself, she wrapped her arms and legs around him as the thick spurts of hot semen filled her.
* * *
“Victoria, it’s time for your spanking. Then we must leave if we are to visit Hyde Park before you need to be at the station.”
“Spanking? Surely you don’t mean to…” She peered over her shoulder at him from her position in the bed and Adam had to admit she made an adorable sight. She lay face down, apparently exhausted after their exertions though it was not yet ten
o’clock in the morning. He would have liked to leave her there and allow her more rest but he knew she would fret if she was late back. That would undermine his careful efforts to strip away her repression and inhibitions. The last thing he needed from her now was a rush of guilt to overshadow the other fine qualities he had started to discover. Victoria was a diligent and dutiful young businesswoman in public, and he now knew her to be a passionate, sensual creature in private. He loved both facets of her.
Adam himself was already fully dressed again and ready to leave once the formalities had been concluded. He regarded his sleepy, tousled companion with a degree of amusement from his vantage point by the window.
“I do indeed mean exactly that. Ten spanks, over my knee. Your punishment for disgracing yourself earlier.” He pulled an upholstered stool from under the dressing table and sat on it. “Get out of that bed and over here, Victoria. Now please.”
“But—”
“I will count to five, then every second you delay after that will earn you an additional spank. And you really do not want to even think about how sore your bottom will be if I have to come and get you.”
He kept his smile carefully concealed as she groaned, then dragged her body stiffly from the bed. He made a mental note to keep this a relatively light spanking. The last twenty-four hours had been momentous for her, she had coped well, but it had taken its toll and she was close to her limit now.
She approached him and stood beside the stool. “Over your lap, sir? How shall I…”
“Your stomach here.” He patted the tops of his thighs, “and your feet and hands on the floor. Keep them there until I tell you we’re finished.”
Victoria arranged herself as directed, allowing him to reposition her a little in order to better present her buttocks for punishment. Adam admired the still-vivid marks from her caning the previous evening. He ran his fingers along one of the raised red weals.
Victoria hissed but did not protest. Regardless, he would avoid her stripes this time. His little Victoria needed to learn, and as much as anything she needed to know that when he said he would spank her, then he did mean it. He had no desire to really hurt her though, nor to unduly upset her at this stage. He fully intended that she should remember him fondly, and regard their next encounter with enthusiasm. He determined it would not be many days away and intended for her to anticipate the coming weekend with zest and curiosity, not dread. He was reasonably certain he had done enough in the last day or so to kindle a genuine appetite in Victoria, and this final spanking should offer sufficient bite to satisfy the submissive in her, but not so much that she would resent him or consider him unduly harsh.
“Ten spanks. You will count them, if you please.”
“Yes, sir, ouch!” Victoria yelped as his hand connected with her left cheek. Both her feet came off the floor but she recovered herself and planted them firmly on the carpet again. “One, sir.”
“Thank you.” Adam dropped the next few swats in rapid succession as Victoria squirmed and squealed across his lap. She managed to keep in position though, pretty much, and he was impressed at how readily she was adapting to his demands. Miss Wynne truly was a gem.
“Nine, sir.” Victoria’s voice was quivering somewhat, and her bottom was a delightful shade of deep pink. “Ten.”
“You may thank me now, for demonstrating to you the error of your ways and helping you to learn to control yourself.” He rested his palm on her buttock, noting the warmth seeping upwards from the inflamed flesh. He had tempered the spanking considerably, but still he knew she had felt it. She was thoroughly punished and suitably penitent, he believed.
“Th-thank you, sir. I will try hard to obey you next time.”
He caressed her sore bottom and loved the way she snuggled closer to him. He helped her to stand, then turned her and pulled her into his lap. She was shivering despite the warmth of the room so he wrapped his arms around her, and held her until she was still and calm again.
She tipped up her chin. Her face was tearstained. “Are you angry with me? Really?”
He smiled and shook his head. “No. I would never spank you if I was angry.”
“But, you punished me. Why would you do that if I had not made you angry?”
“Because I intend to spend a lot of time with you in the coming months. You are a sweet and adorable companion but I want you to learn more about how to behave around me, how to be a submissive. Discipline is the best way to achieve that. You learned a valuable lesson just now. You apologised, thanked me for teaching you, and I am very pleased with you.”
She smiled through her tears. “I want to please you.”
Adam kissed her forehead. “That’s all I wanted to hear. Time to get dressed.”
* * *
“Have you had enough to eat?”
“Yes, sir, thank you. I can purchase something on the train I expect if I am hungry later.”
“Probably. When you reach Hebden Bridge, please send me a note to inform me you have arrived home safely.” Adam refilled her teacup without first enquiring, then sat back to peruse his companion. Miss Victoria Wynne was now the very epitome of prim gentility. Her tight-fitted bodice hugged her curves in a manner he could best describe as lover-like, whilst he imagined the curved bustle at her rear would offer a welcome relief from the lingering effects of her recent exploits as it held the fabric away from her undoubtedly sore backside. If she was smarting though she concealed it well as she sat before him in the tearoom next to the Serpentine, dainty and oh-so-respectable. Her manners were beyond reproach too. Who would imagine not an hour earlier she had lain across his knees for a spanking, then cried in his arms?
Adam liked women, all women. He enjoyed their wit and sparkle. He loved the way they smelled, the soft sway of their skirts as they walked, the gentle rustle as they moved through a room. He liked their voices, their company. He could not call to mind a female he did not regard with at least a degree of fondness, and he would describe most of the females in his acquaintance as quite delightful. He adored submissive women in particular, but none were a patch on Miss Wynne. Victoria. She was incomparable. He was starting to form interesting plans for her, which were not restricted to his bed.
She was sensual, courageous, and quite lovely, with a submissive streak as wide as the winding lake they sat beside. All excellent traits in the lovers he sought out. But she was more than that. She had a head for business that equalled that of any man in his circle and exceeded most. Also, she cared about people, especially her family and those in her employ. She was generous, forward-looking, innovative. In short, she was just exactly what he needed.
He hoped Horace Catchpole would be free to meet with him on Monday. There was much to discuss.
Chapter Twelve
Victoria stacked the invoices into a neat pile. All were duly authorised; Mr. Timmins would see to the round of monthly payments in the morning. She could hear her clerk moving about in the outer office and wondered why he was still here. It was already after six o’clock and he was really only supposed to work until five-thirty.
So was she, but that was different. She had profits to earn in order to eventually regain control of her precious mill. People depended on her; she must not fail.
Considering her aspirations, her thoughts inevitably drifted to the man who held her future in his hands. He was never far from her thoughts anyway. It had been three days and three nights since she parted from Adam Luke on platform three at Kings Cross station. He had insisted on seeking out the station master to upgrade her ticket, then escorted her right onto the train and saw her safely ensconced in a first-class carriage. He had waved to her in a silent salute as the train pulled away. She had waved back, then lost sight of him as the train rounded the slight bend and rattled away from the station with a screeching hiss of steam.
Victoria had opened her reticule and extracted the contract of employment he had insisted she sign when she first arrived at The Ritz,
but found she could not read it though the blur of tears. They had been parted mere moments, and already she missed him.
If anything she missed him even more now, several days later.
Victoria returned to her office on Monday morning, relieved to reach her desk only a little over a half hour late. Despite her best intentions she had overslept following the long journey home, then missed her breakfast in an attempt to catch up.
Now she found herself watching for the post constantly, looking for a note from Adam bringing details of his plans for their next rendezvous. He had said they would meet in Liverpool where he maintained a home and had promised to send her the address. It was her intention to travel there on Friday evening. They could have two whole nights together.
Would her bottom survive? She still bore the marks of her caning though they were faded now. He would have more of the same in store for her, and no doubt much that she could not yet quite contemplate. Whatever he might offer, she anticipated their coming liaison with an eagerness she would never have believed possible. She must be quite mad, but she did not care.
Adam excited her. He aroused and he teased her. He demanded things of her, outrageous, scandalous, wicked things, and she complied. She was his slut, and she loved it. His submissive, he called her. He was right. She wanted him to dominate her, craved his commanding, stern presence and the release it offered. With Adam she could let down her guard. She would be safe, as long as he was in charge.
And soon, she hoped, he would bless her with the thing she craved most. She smoothed her hands over her flat stomach, imagining how it would swell to protect and nurture her baby. Please, let it be soon.
She could do the calculations of profit and loss and forecast how many months and years it would take her to buy back her mill, but she had no idea how long Adam would continue to desire her. What if he changed his mind? What if he had already decided she was not after all the woman for him? That she was too repressed, too cautious, too timid and reticent? What if no other man ever expressed an interest? Would she consider any other candidate to father her baby? She rather doubted it.
