Over the Knee

by Ashe Barker, Lily Harlem, Katy Swann, Wendi Zwaduk, Lucy Felthouse, Dolly Watt

  “Mmm, this is going to be so hot,” he said. “You might want to grip the side of the table, and please, no shouting out, you’ll scare the neighbors.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Oh, God, she needed to grip the table and was likely to cry out?

  He rubbed her anus again, his finger wet and cool. “Relax. The more you tense, the hotter it will be.”

  “I understand, Sir.”

  He chuckled. “Well, you certainly will in a minute.”

  He penetrated her. Unsure if it was the tip of the carved root or Sir’s finger, she waited for the burn. It didn’t come, it was his finger.

  “I think you should relax a little more than that, darling.”

  “I am trying, Sir.”

  “Well, I’ve told you now so it’s up to you.” He removed his finger.

  Cassandra felt something else there—the ginger this time—pressed right at the center of her hole.

  She reached for the sides of the table and clung on. A layer of sweat spread across her brow, and she reckoned her underarms were a little damp too.

  Sir kept her right buttock pulled outward, as though giving himself a better view as he eased the ginger in.

  Cassandra blew out a long, low breath. It was fine, barely any heat to it. No worse than using stimulating lube on a plug.

  “That’s it, open up, take it all,” he said, easing the wet ginger farther into her.

  “Mmm… Yes…” she said, enjoying the filling and his attention. “Yes…”

  “The burn will build,” he said.

  “Okay.” She could handle this fine, it had to be nearly in now, her rim was stretched… Her rim was…

  On fucking fire.

  “Oh, Jesus,” she said, squirming. “Bloody hell…”

  “It’s okay,” he said, pressing it in some more.

  Her ass was scorching hot, and the temperature was mounting, not just her hole but inside. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. White fingers of electricity were splintering through her.

  “Oh, oh, Sir…” she said, shifting to look at the opposite wall. Would she be able to handle this…?

  “It’s in, good girl.”

  He stood, came to her head and gently stroked her hair. “Cass, look at me.”

  She was panting. It was as if real flames were licking over her ass, in her ass. “Oh, God…”

  “It will build and build, for about two minutes, then stay intense for five. Then it will fade.”

  “I don’t know if…” She shifted her feet, raised her hips off the table then set them down. Perhaps she could dislodge the damn thing.

  “What? You don’t know what?” He kissed the tip of her nose. The touch so soft in comparison to the powerful sensations she was experiencing down below.

  “If I can take it… Oh…”

  “Of course you can, turn the heat to pleasure. Capture it the way you do pain.”

  “It is pain… Sir…” She sucked in a breath and stared at him. “It is pain.”

  “It’s good pain, pain you crave.”

  “Ohh…” She rubbed her mound onto the table, stimulating her clit. That would be a way of handling the intensity that had her safeword forming in her mouth.

  “Stick with it.” His voice was stern. “I’ll help you.”

  “I need to come.”

  “You will, soon.” He straightened and pulled in a deep breath that expanded his chest. “Soon enough.” He pressed his hand into the small of her back, pinning her to the table and stopping her from thrusting her hips up and down. “But first this.”

  A thwack rained down on Cassandra’s right buttock.

  “Argh…” She’d clenched as he’d hit, the flames roaring even higher inside her. “Oh…my…God.”

  “Take it.” There was excitement in his voice. He was loving this. Seeing her like this, on the edge.

  He hit again.

  Once more Cassandra clenched. It was instinctual. The ginger played havoc inside her. How much more could she take?

  Sir began to slap her with vigor. A steady pounding rhythm alternating between buttocks, which was his preferred way to administer spankings.

  Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

  Each time he hit, Cassandra squeezed her anus around the root and rubbed her clitoris on the table. Pain blurred her vision and she folded in on herself, losing herself in the bright lights behind her eyelids.

  The hits all merged into one, layering the pain from deep and massaging to sharp and stingy. It was a feeling she craved, a state she longed for and needed.

  But the ginger. Oh, that was a whole new layer of pain. Heat like she’d never experienced.

  “Yes, yes, yes…” Sir said, breathlessly. “More.” He upped the speed with which his hand connected with her ass.

  She was being bashed almost violently against the table, her heart rate was racing, her breath hard to catch between smacks.

  On and on the blows came. The sound of his hand clapping against her skin became one long rain of noise.

  Cassandra needed to come. She whimpered, the sensations overtaking her.

  “Yes, baby, I know.”

  Suddenly the hitting stopped.

  Cassandra found herself turned onto her back and staring at the ceiling. Her limbs were tense but somehow weak. But it was okay because Sir was in control.

  Her ass cheeks throbbed and her rim stung, but the heat had steadied to a simmer, not building anymore but still very intense.

  Sir put her knees over his shoulders and sat on the chair again.

  He buried his face between her legs and shoved his tongue into her soaking entrance.

  “Oh, please…” Cassandra said, reaching for his hair and gripping it. “Please, I need to…”

  “I know what you need,” he growled.

  “Yes… Ah, yes…”

  He flicked over her clit, his tongue a strong, steady pressure. He wriggled two fingers into her pussy and fucked her with them.

  That was what she needed, yes. More of him. More stimulation to topple her into ecstasy. Her blood was awash with pain hormones and lust. It was so good, how could she have thought about safewording? The ginger was…perfect…

  She tensed her belly as an orgasm raced toward her.

  Suddenly he lifted up.

  “Oh, no…” Now was not the time for orgasm denial, not when they were playing such a new game. “Please, Sir, I want you.”

  “And I want you.” He stood, placed her lower legs over his shoulders then shoved one-handedly at his jeans.

  His cock sprang out, hard and thick, the end shiny with pre-cum.

  “Please,” Cassandra moaned. She felt delirious, high on desire, like her body would ignite with frustration if she didn’t get what she needed soon.

  He loomed over her, bending her double so her knees were up by her chest.

  “I’m going to fuck you now, baby,” he said onto her lips.

  “Yes, now…”

  He shifted his hips, placed his cock head at her entrance, then shoved in.

  Cassandra cried out. She was already full, full of ginger, which made the space for Sir’s cock constricted.

  But it felt so good, more than good, incredible to have him drive deep.

  “Ah yeah,” he said. “All evening this is where I’ve wanted to be. Fucking my spanked, ginger-figged sub.”

  “Yes, oh yes, more, Sir…”

  He gave it, thrusting his hips wildly and bashing them both up the table. Cassandra clung to his upper arms. Her hips ached but that was nothing. She liked him folding her up like this and fucking her. It made her feel tiny and helpless, and not only that his cock nudged her cervix creating a dense sensation that always led to a super-strong climax.

  “You hot?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  “Yes, yes, so hot.”

  He reached down and grabbed her sore, smarting right buttock. He squeezed it hard.

  Pain shot through Cassandra’s pelvis, thrumming agai
nst her clit and filling her pussy.

  “Come,” he gasped. “I’m coming, come with me.”

  “I am…” She allowed the orgasm to grip her with a fury that scared her for a moment. It went so high, on for so long, then she spiraled into ecstasy.

  Sir came with her. His cock releasing pleasure deep into her body.

  “Holy fucking hell…” he gasped. He claimed her mouth, shoving his tongue in the way he was shoving his cock into her pussy.

  Cassandra clung to him as her internal muscles hugged his pulsating shaft. It was hard to breathe but she didn’t care. Feeling his pleasure spun her into a higher state of being, it thrilled her and completed her satisfaction. It made her feel whole.

  He slowed and calmed. Buried deep within her, he broke the kiss. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

  “You’re not so…bad yourself, Sir.” She stroked her hand down his face.

  He relaxed his grip on her buttock then lifted her legs from his shoulders and straightened.

  “Mmm…” he said, gripping her waist and giving several more, languid thrusts into her, watching his cock disappear into her pussy. “So fucking wet and hot. I want to stay here, forever.”

  “Then do so.” She let her legs hang over the edge of the table, too weak to do anything else with them.

  He looked up. “Don’t tempt me.”

  Withdrawing, he sat and pushed her thighs wider. “How is the burn?”

  “It’s like you said, it’s plateaued off.”

  “You want to keep it in?”

  “I think that’s enough for a first time.”

  “I agree.” He pulled the root, twisting it slightly.

  Cassandra gasped as the movement seemed to inject fresh spiced heat to her delicate tissues.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He slid it from her and placed it on the floor.

  A few minutes ago Cassandra would have been relieved that the ginger had gone, but now she felt strangely bereft. Yes it had been intense, a new type of pain, but she had a feeling she’d be begging to be ginger-figged again before too long.

  “Come here, baby,” Sir said.

  Cassandra arched the base of her back, and he slid one arm into the gap then placed his other around her shoulders. He lifted her from the table into his arms, hugging her against his chest.

  This was one of Cassandra’s favorite parts of a scene. Sir was so good at aftercare—attentive, gentle, soothing, and he always made her feel so loved and adored and as though she’d pleased him more than any other woman on the planet could.

  He paused to blow out the candle and flick the dining room light off. He strode across the hallway and into the bedroom then rested her on the bed.

  The sheets were cool and soft and Cassandra sank into them, enjoying the cushioning after the hard table.

  “Be still,” Sir said.

  Cassandra did as he’d asked.

  Very gently he removed first her right then her left earring. He placed them on the dressing table.

  Cassandra watched his naked form. He was so damn gorgeous, like a Greek god or a Michelangelo vision. How the hell had she gotten so lucky as to find someone she was so compatible with? Not just in life, but in kinks too. And to top it all he was a treat for her eyes every time she saw him. He was getting better with age, like the rioja he loved.

  He walked up to the bed again and placed his fingers in her hair, searching for pins.

  She stared at his softening cock. Even turning flaccid, it was thick and wide, the head a graceful flare with a ridge she knew sent him wild if she flicked it with the tip of her tongue.

  One by one he pulled the pins from her hair until it fell around her shoulders. He ran his fingers through it, checking he had them all.

  “I’ll just get the cream,” he said.

  “Okay, Sir.”

  He went to the special cupboard, and she admired his buttocks as he walked then enjoyed it when he bent to retrieve the tube from the bottom drawer.

  When he stood and straightened, he paused for a moment and looked at her. “Enjoy the view?”

  “Every time, Sir.”

  He grinned. “Good.”

  After sitting on the bed, back rod straight against the padded headboard, he patted his lap. “Over you go then.”

  Cassandra’s buttocks were hot and stinging and she was ready for the soothing balm. She crawled over him, her mound on his thighs and her chest on the bed. She crossed her hands beneath her chin and rested her cheek on them.

  The lamp in the corner spread small diamond shapes over the wall and she stared at them as Sir unscrewed the cap.

  As usual he placed his hand in the small of her back, as though to keep her there while he applied the cream. But she wasn’t going anywhere. This was her place in the world, over her Master’s knee.

  About the Author

  Lily Harlem lives in the UK with a workaholic hunk and a crazy cat. With a desk overlooking rolling hills her over active imagination has been allowed to run wild and free and she revels in using the written word as an outlet for her creativity.

  Lily’s stories are made up of colorful characters exploring their sexuality and sensuality in a safe, consensual way. With the bedroom door left wide open the reader can hang on for the ride and Lily hopes by reading sensual romance people will be brave enough to try something new themselves–after all, life’s too short to be anything other than fully satisfied.

  Email: lilyharlem@googlemail.com

  Lily loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.totallybound.com.

  Also by Lily Harlem

  Thief

  Escape to the Country

  Toy Boy

  Treble: Orchestrating Maneuvers

  Stand to Attention: Who Dares Wins

  Wild Angels: Burning Rubber

  Christmas Crackers: Candy Canes and Coal Dust

  Bollywood: The Unwholesome Adventures of Harita

  What’s her Secret?: Breathe You In

  What’s his Passion?: Dark Warrior

  Caught on Camera: Part One

  Caught on Camera: Part Two

  Caught on Camera: Part Three

  Caught on Camera: Part Four

  Caught on Camera: Part Five

  KNEEL FOR YOU

  Katy Swann

  Dedication

  Thank you as always to my amazing family, friends and readers for your continued support. Thank you also to the fab team at Totally Bound for believing in me.

  Chapter One

  “No, Kirsten, I need you to work on something special for me.”

  I glared at my boss in irritation as she cut me off mid-sentence. Okay, as Editor-in-Chief, Tina’s time might be worth more than its weight in gold, but she could at least have heard me out. We were sitting around the large oval table in the boardroom, as we did every Thursday for the editorial meeting, and I’d just begun to pitch my brilliant idea for my next feature. She gave me a hard look over the top of her glasses that clearly said ‘shut up and listen’.

  I swallowed my angry retort, acutely aware of the interested stares now directed at me from my colleagues around the table. Okay, maybe now wasn’t the time to argue my case, so I tried my best to smooth away the frown I knew would be giving away how pissed off I was, and waited for Tina to continue.

  “Your article about sexual diversity went down very well with our readers,” she said, her sharp, brusque voice masking the implied compliment. “I want you to follow it up with a piece about BDSM—spanking in particular. There’s a lot of hype around that at the moment so now’s the time to give our readers the facts. What do people get up to behind closed doors? Is Britain kinky? Have whips and handcuffs replaced roses and chocolate? I want an in-depth feature exploring spanking and other aspects of BDSM. Oh, and I need it by Thursday next week.”

  I stared, open-mouthed, at Tina for a few seconds. BDSM? Spanking? “I… I don�
�t know anything about BDSM,” I finally managed to stutter. Actually, that wasn’t strictly true.

  Tina rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Well, do your research, then,” she snapped, giving me the look she usually reserved for idiots.

  Eddie, who I’d secretly had a crush on since he’d started six months ago, gave me a sympathetic smile across the table while Britney, from the beauty section, smirked. Bitch.

  The rest of the meeting passed in a blur as I struggled with a combination of memories and panic. I briefly considered telling Tina that I absolutely refused to do it, but if I did that I might as well clear out my desk before the meeting was even over. And I didn’t want anyone asking questions about my kinky past. That chapter of my life was permanently sealed tight with superglue. So I had no choice but to grit my teeth, act clueless and write a convincing piece about the joys of kink. And I only had a bloody week.

  When the meeting was finally over I glanced across at Chloe as we rose from the table. She’d become a good friend since she’d started at the magazine just over a year ago and we often bounced ideas off each other. She saw the hidden message in my face and nodded. She’d know what to do. Although she wasn’t aware of my past, she’d once admitted over a few drinks that she had occasionally dabbled in BDSM with her ex-boyfriend and had even been to a couple of fetish clubs. Should I tell her about what had happened three years ago? But that would mean raking up painful memories that I’d tried so hard to bury. No, it was best not to say anything.

  As I headed back to my desk my phone bleeped and I quickly checked the text. It was from Chloe.

  Meet me at two-thirty, usual place.

  I grinned as I keyed a quick reply. We’d gotten into the habit of sneaking off for a quick coffee when the office was quiet. The advantage of working for a busy magazine was that we always had an excuse to rush off to do some research, so nobody questioned us when we popped out.

  At two-thirty, I ordered two skinny cappuccinos from Bruno at the coffee shop and waited for Chloe. She arrived just as he brought them over. Giving him a cheery smile, she flopped onto the chair opposite me looking as stressed as ever.