by Ashe Barker
“But, there is no table in here. And anyway, this is the parlour. You cannot spank me in the parlour. It just would not be decent.”
“Decent? Have I given you the impression I care for decency overmuch? I see I need to disabuse you of that notion too.” He glanced around the room. “Ah, that will do fine.”
He released her chin and strode over to the window where a pair of fine Sheraton mahogany chairs flanked the heavy brocade curtains. He selected one and brought it to the centre of the room. The seat was padded, and the chair armless. He sat on it.
“Please come here and lay across my lap. You will lift your skirts, then remain still and quiet while I do what must be done.”
Victoria regarded him, wide-eyed, speechless. It was not so much the spanking; she was learning to be relaxed at that prospect. Rather it was the use of her mother’s parlour for such a purpose. This dainty room was designed for tea parties, for delicate, polite conversation, for elegant little cakes and exquisite needlecraft. It was not the place for such, such—debauchery.
“I am waiting.” Adam’s stern tone brought her from her stunned reverie.
“Sir, I would prefer to use the library. If you please.”
“I do not please, Victoria. Neither do I intend to remain here waiting for you to regain control of your affronted sensibilities. If I am compelled to come and fetch you, your punishment will be doubled.”
Her brain insisted she continue to protest, but Victoria’s feet had other ideas. She inched toward him, gulping. Her heart was thumping; she was afraid, though not of him. The spanking would soon be over, and she knew by now that her body would respond delightfully to it. Rather she dreaded anyone ever knowing what she had done, here, in Hester Wynne’s inner sanctum. Was she really about to lay herself across a man’s lap, within the hearing of a houseful of servants, and her family, and bare her bottom for a spanking?
It would seem so. She stood beside Adam, struggling to control her shaking legs. Her knees might give out at any moment. She leaned forward to place her hands on his thigh.
“How should I…”
“Like this.” He eased her down into the required position. “You will reach back and lift your skirts for me, if you please.”
Silent now, Victoria did as instructed. Her skirt and several petticoats took some lifting, but she persevered. Adam was in no apparent hurry, nor did he offer to assist. At last her clothing was bundled against the small of her back, leaving just her drawers to protect her modesty. Perhaps Adam would allow them to remain, given his choice of location. After all, the thin silk would offer little in the way of protection.
He unfastened the bow at the side of her waist, which held the drawers in place, and slid the undergarment to her knees. Victoria groaned, but resigned herself to the inevitable. This was happening. It was really happening, here. The best she could hope for was that she manage not to alert the household to her predicament.
“You will keep your hands and feet on the floor, and do your best not to scream. I doubt that either one of us really wishes to discuss this with your mother.”
“You would though, wouldn’t you?” Victoria knew it with certainty. He would have no qualms at all if it came to that.
“She would protest my methods, I daresay, though she would be in total accord with my goal of curbing your excessive work ethic. Twenty slaps. Are you ready?”
“I think so.” At least he would be using his hand this time rather than a ruler. Twenty slaps would not be so bad.
“Oww!” Victoria could not contain her yelp as the first spank landed across her buttock. The smarting burn rippled across her unprotected skin, the weight of the blow sinking slowly into her flesh. Adam waited for a few seconds, then repeated the stroke on the other cheek.
This time Victoria bit down on her lip to keep from crying out. Whatever had made her imagine his hands would be gentler than the ruler? If anything, this was worse.
It was as if he read her mind. “I was too easy on you last time, hence the need to repeat the lesson. You will feel this, and you will learn from it. Do you agree, Victoria?”
“Yes, sir.” She ground out her reply between teeth gritted to withstand the onslaught.
“Good. Lift up your bottom a little more. I intend to spank you harder and I require a decent target.”
Victoria pointed her toes to raise her backside up for him, praying the next few minutes would pass quickly and she would not make a fool of herself. It was a spanking, just a spanking. She could handle this.
Adam rained the blows down on her bare buttocks, peppering her skin with the sharp, ringing slaps. She let out the occasional yelp when he connected with an already spanked spot, but for the most part Victoria managed to chew on her lips to remain quiet. Well, fairly quiet. By the time he reached a dozen slaps she was whimpering, and by fifteen she was sobbing.
“You’ve slipped. Lift your bottom up again. These last ones will be across the backs of your thighs, and they will hurt.”
“They all hurt. Please, sir, I am sorry. Truly. I’ve learnt my lesson.” Despite her pleading, Victoria did as he asked and repositioned herself for the remaining slaps.
“Higher, please. Present your thighs to me for punishment. I accept your apology, Victoria, and your lesson is almost completed.” His tone was implacable. There would be no curtailment of the twenty slaps.
Victoria writhed and bit back screams as he delivered the final, searing strokes. Her bottom already felt to be ablaze, and now her thighs too. Not an inch of skin remained unpunished. She would not sit down for a week. She was almost glad he would be away for two months. Almost, not quite.
At last he stopped. Victoria lay still, afraid to move. She was sore, too sore to get up yet, but terrified to remain where she was. They might still be disturbed. She could hear footsteps in the hallway, the light chatter of maids going about their business.
“Spread your legs, Victoria.”
“Sir? I—”
He laid his palm on her roasted buttock. Victoria winced but remained still as he massaged the stinging flesh then moved to caress her other cheek. “Open your legs, girl.”
She obeyed, already aware of the moisture smearing her inner thighs. Embarrassed, she squeezed her eyes tight shut.
“Ah, little slut. You are having a good time, I see.”
“No, sir. It hurts. Please, someone might come in…”
“I do not think so. In any case, they will knock first and I will ask them to wait. You will have plenty of time to cover your hot, wet pussy before facing the servants so you may relax. Your punishment is over. This next is for your pleasure, if you want it. Do you want it, Victoria?”
“Yes.”
“I beg your pardon? Who are you speaking to?”
“Yes, sir. Please.”
“Better. I will allow that lapse to pass as I do not wish to spank you again immediately. But have a care, Victoria. I will not remain so lenient if you persist in disrespecting me.”
“Thank you, sir. I am sorry, I meant no offence. It was just…”
“Spread your legs wider. Show me your how wet you are.”
Beyond modesty now, Victoria did as he said. He leaned around to better view her disgracefully dripping pussy. She almost leapt from his lap when he trailed his fingers around outline of her entrance before dipping just one inside.
“Do you like me to touch you here, Victoria?”
“Yes, sir. Oh, yes…” She moaned as he curled his finger around to find her inner sweet spot.
“And here?” He worked the pad of his finger across her most sensitive place, causing Victoria to convulse around his digit.
“Sir, oh, sir…”
“Is that good?”
“Yes, it feels—exquisite. Sir.”
“You’re very wet. And so hot, tight too. I want to put my cock in here.”
“Yes. Oh, please…”
“Would you let me do that? Would
you allow me to fuck you, here, in your mother’s front parlour? Among the Chippendale and Hepplewhite?”
“I do not believe we have any Hepplewhite furniture in here, sir.”
“Ah, well that is a relief. Stand up.”
“What?”
Adam pulled his fingers from her and got to his feet, helping Victoria to straighten too. He turned her to face the chair.
“Bend over and brace your hands on the sides of the seat. Arch your back.”
It never occurred to her to demur. Victoria leaned forward to grip the upholstered cushion while Adam raised her skirts, which had dropped back to cover her when she stood up. He arranged the bunched fabric above her waist, then undid his own trousers. Victoria moaned, this time in delight as he eased the head of his solid, thick cock between her smarting buttocks.
He parted her cheeks with his fingers, which seemed gentle now, as though he was seeking not to hurt her any more. Victoria lowered her shoulders, leaning on her elbows as she raised her backside up in welcome. Where were her scruples about the sanctity of her mother’s parlour now, she vaguely wondered. Gone, completely washed away in a heady rush of lust and desire.
“Tell me what you want, Victoria.” He leaned low over her to murmur in her ear, his tone soft now, and seductive.
“I want you inside me, sir.”
“Mmm, is that all?” He shifted his stance just slightly, enough to insert the head of his cock into her pussy.
Victoria wriggled, trying to push back, to impale herself on his erection.
“Tell me. Don’t show me. The words, Victoria. I want to hear the words from you.”
“I, I…”
“What do you want me to do to you, girl?”
“I want you to fuck me, sir.” She sobbed the words, desperation bringing a ragged edge to her voice. “Do it now. I can’t wait. Please, sir…”
Adam withdrew his cock, and she almost wailed in her frustration. “Sir… sir!”
“Is this what you want?” He lunged forward, burying the full length of his cock inside her.
Victoria let out a strangled shriek. “Yes! Oh, sweet Lord. Oh, God.”
Adam chuckled, his breath warm on the nape of her neck where her neat knot of hair was starting to unravel. “I think I mentioned before that we agreed on sir.”
Victoria ground her hips against him in a wild, circular motion, squeezing him with her inner muscles. She was gasping, her breath coming in short, panting bursts. “Sir, sir, sir.”
He kissed her neck, then withdrew his cock, only to drive it deep into her again. “Do you want it hard and fast, my sweet slut? Or slow, like this?”
He proceeded to withdraw again, then slid back into her with aching slowness. Victoria would have rammed her body back into his but his hands on her hips held her still. He would not allow her to take over, to set the pace. She knew it, but tried anyway.
A sharp slap on her raw buttock soon stopped that. “Behave. You may be new to this, but you know the rules. Tell me what you want, what you think you need, and if I agree, I’ll do as you ask.”
“I need you to fuck me hard. Harder.”
“Was that harder, sir?” Another hard slap on her upturned bottom punctuated his question.
“Yes, sir. Harder, faster. I need… ooh.” Her demands ended in an abrupt moan as Adam ended the conversation and turned his full attention to delivering what she really wanted. He fucked her, his cock driving deep and filling her, stretching her as she wriggled and gyrated around him. Her pussy was clenching, spasming beyond her control as he set up a brisk and punishing rhythm. He angled his cock, whether on purpose or not, but enough to ensure each stroke caught her most sensitive inner spot, whipping her into a frenzy of desire.
“I need to climax. Sir, may I…?”
“You may, but try not to be too vocal. I believe I can hear the parlour maid watering the plants in the hall.”
Victoria cared not a fig for plants in the hall, parlour maids, or even her mother’s fine Sheraton chair, which she was threatening to splinter in her iron grip. She just needed, wanted, craved… more.
Adam gave more. He found an extra burst of power and rammed his cock into her with a ferocity she would have found utterly terrifying just days earlier. But now it was exactly what she demanded. She tightened her pussy around him, squeezing, gripping him, begging him to give her the release she was groping for.
Suddenly, it was there. Lights flashed, her knees buckled. She would have collapsed onto the chair but for Adam’s arm under her, holding her upright. Her senses peaked, then shattered, her legs turning to liquid as waves of pleasure coursed through her. Her cunt spasmed, and Victoria moaned in sheer delight. Her bottom was still sore as he pressed his trouser-clad hips against her to bury his cock deep one last time, but the pain was somehow beautiful in its intensity. She rubbed against him, loving the rawness of it, the hot, abrasive rasp of fine worsted on punished skin.
I love you. The words ricocheted around her head. She bit them back, not ready to believe, not yet.
His erection lurched inside her as he drew back then thrust again. He held still, his fingers gripping her hips, holding her against him as his balls pumped his thick, viscous semen into her. Victoria moaned again, this time in surrender as she finally sank to her knees.
Chapter Thirteen
“That was wonderful. Thank you so much for coming with me.” Victoria leaned her head against Adam’s shoulder as their carriage rattled along the dark lane country leading from Halifax to Hebden Bridge. The drive would take at least an hour, but Adam was determined to savour every last minute of it. He was not sure he would describe the evening as wonderful, though he was hard pressed to recall one he had enjoyed more.
He had known Victoria was attractive, quite lovely in fact. Especially when she was tied to his bed or draped across his lap, her delectable derrière bared for punishment. But in her sensual blue gown that displayed just enough décolletage to ignite his senses and those of every male in the room blessed with a pulse, and with her hair artfully piled on top of her head, just one or two tendrils escaping to tease and torment, she was breath-taking. Utterly beautiful.
He saw it, the hard-headed mill owners of Yorkshire saw it. So did their wives, daughters, and most particularly their unmarried and eligible sons. Adam was not enamoured of those young gentlemen in the least, and for the first time he reconsidered the wisdom of leaving his precious new submissive at their mercy. She had turned heads this evening, and more than few hearts, he believed. Despite his territorial snarls in their direction, the cream of Yorkshire’s enterprising community would be clamouring on her doorstep within the week.
Did he need to make new rules for her? He could forbid her to accept any social engagements at all until his return. Indeed, he could demand she never leave the house or mill again until he was safely back on this side of the Atlantic. Adam gave himself a mental shake. He was not by nature a jealous or insecure man, so why did Victoria Wynne evoke such ridiculous impulses in him?
More to the point, what was it about the alluring little weaver that so addled his thinking that he had spent the precious time he had with her prior to the awards affair spanking and fucking her rather than dealing with the pressing matter he came here specifically to discuss? By the time they were both sufficiently recovered from their interlude in the Sheraton chair to be able to string more than three coherent words together, it was time to retire to their respective rooms to change for the ball. The gardening lad had returned with his trunk, and the parlour maid wanted to know if she might collect their tea tray. The moment for serious conversation was lost, and no other suitable opportunity had presented itself all evening.
Until now.
“Victoria? I need to talk to you.”
“Mmm.” She snuggled in further. He enfolded her in his arms as she almost crawled into his lap.
“Victoria? Are you awake?”
Her low, even breathing
gave him his answer.
Shit!
An hour later the carriage circled to a halt in front of Wynne House. A light still burned in the hallway, but the rest of the house was in darkness. Adam consulted his pocket watch. One-forty. He doubted whether Victoria would appear at her desk much before noon the next day, but the lady never ceased to amaze him.
He leaned down to kiss her hair, now gorgeously tumbled from the pins that had made a valiant attempt to hold it in place all evening. “Victoria, we’re here.”
“What?” she mumbled, burying her face in his dinner jacket.
“We’re home. You need to wake up. Unless you prefer me to carry you inside.”
“You can’t carry me. I’m too tall.” She made no discernible attempt to lift her eyelids.
“You would do well not to challenge me, my sweet slut. I’m sure you can guess where that will end.”
Now she opened her eyes. He smirked to himself.
“Come on, sweetheart. It’s time for bed.”
“I can’t sleep with you. My mother…”
“I know. I have no intention of offending anyone’s delicate sensibilities; well, not your mother’s anyway. I meant for you to be in your bed, me in mine. Come on.”
He reached to open the carriage door, Victoria still cradled on his lap. Despite her expressed doubts he experienced no difficulty at all in stepping down from the vehicle with her in his arms. The hired carriage dismissed, Adam headed up the short flight of steps to the front door.
Adam managed to open the door, then stood Victoria on her feet while he turned to secure it behind them. He left the key where he found it, in the lock. Victoria tottered along the hall in the direction of the central, ornate staircase as her hairpins finally relinquished the fight. Adam paused to collect a handful of them from the floor, then followed her up the stairs.
Halfway along the landing Victoria stopped. “This is my room.” She looked up at him, her expression less sleepy now. “I’ll see you at breakfast. And, can I thank you again for accompanying me this evening? I had such a good time, and I usually hate these functions.”
