Hard Corps

by Claire Thompson

  It’s only now, in retrospect, that I can explain this all so clearly. Then I just held him tight, never wanting to let go.

  ‘Remy! Are you OK, honey?’ Eric sounded worried as he pried my arms from his neck and held me at arm’s length. ‘Why, Remy, there are tears in your eyes.’

  I buried my face in his chest, still not trusting myself to speak.

  ‘Are you happy, Remy?’

  Mutely, I nodded, wrapping my arms around him again.

  ‘Good. Because I want you freely, without coercion of any kind. First, will you stay with me tonight? All night?’

  ‘I would love to.’ The thought of curling up in his bed, wrapped in his strong arms, the dream canopy gently swaying overhead, was wonderful.

  ‘I’m so glad, Remy. And now that that is settled, there is the matter of your punishment.’

  I looked up at his face, wondering if I had heard him right. ‘Punishment?’ I asked in a small voice.

  ‘Of course. For disobeying. You could think of it as a reminder if you like. A reminder that you belong to me, and when you disobey my rules, you get punished. It’s really very simple.’

  I didn’t respond. I was at once frightened and excited by his words. I had never been punished. Not by someone who cared about me at all. I had been used, certainly. Humiliated, discarded, teased, and controlled. But no one had ever cared enough to teach me.

  We were both quiet as we walked back to his place, my hand resting lightly in his. He unlocked the door and opened it, gesturing me inside. Once safely in, he shut and locked the door, the cylinders falling into place with a certain finality. There was no going back now.

  Eric went over to the couch. ‘Come here, Remy. I want you to lie over my knee, just like the naughty little girl you are. I am going to spank that lovely ass of yours until my hand gets too tired, or I need to fuck you. Come on. Right here.’ He patted his blue-jean-clad thighs, grinning devilishly.

  I came over to him, suddenly feeling oddly shy. Slowly, almost hesitantly, I pulled my dress over my head. Reaching back, I unhooked my bra and let my breasts fall forward. ‘Leave the panties on,’ he instructed. ‘I’ll take care of them.’

  I lay across his knees, feeling big and awkward as I did so. With one hand he yanked down my panties, baring my ass to his hand. There is something about having your panties pulled down, and lying across someone’s knee, that is very humiliating. I felt a hot blush of shame as I felt his fingers probing between my asscheeks. Finding the little puckered entrance, he pressed against it slightly, causing me to flinch.

  ‘Ah,’ he said, musing. ‘You don’t like your asshole touched, is that it? Shy, are we? We’ll have to do something about that, Remy dear. Won’t we, my love?’

  I didn’t answer right away, wondering what to say. I hated anyone to touch my asshole. A sharp smack elicited a response.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘That’s better.’ As he spoke, he continued to finger my asshole, though he didn’t try to penetrate it. After a moment, his hands glided over my exposed bottom. I liked the feel of his rough hands massaging and stroking my skin. With a little push, he spread my legs a little more, so that my pussy was peaking through. Using two fingers, he grabbed the outer lips, squeezing together. Then he let go, and slid a finger in my — as usual — sopping wet pussy. I sighed and tried to stay still, hoping he would continue his exploration.

  The sigh seemed to bring him back, though, and abruptly the hand was gone. ‘Now Remy. I want you to remind us both why you are draped across my lap, your panties at your knees. What got you here, hmm?’

  I felt acutely embarrassed at having to answer this. I knew he was teasing me, but I also knew he expected a response. ‘I disobeyed you, sir. I moved and, um, made some noise when you were…’ I trailed off, embarrassed, remembering his ravishment of me at the tree.

  ‘When I was…?’

  ‘Kissing me, sir.’

  He laughed. ‘Kissing you! What a delightful expression. OK, then. I’ll accept that. So you understand that this is a punishment. This is not for your sexual gratification, or indeed, for mine. Though I must admit the sight of you draped over me like this does have me a bit, uh, aroused.’ He pressed down on the back of my thighs as he said this, so I could feel his rock-hard erection against my leg.

  ‘But seriously. This is a lesson. To help you remember to obey me, to the letter, at all times. Understand, Remy?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Then we begin.’ His hand smacked down on one cheek, then the other, over and over. I felt a warm glow suffuse my ass as he spanked me. It really didn’t hurt, and the end result was that I was getting incredibly horny. I subtly tried to shift my legs so my clit would rub against his thigh with each smack. But I think he was on to me.

  ‘Remy,’ he said, punctuating each word with a smack. ‘You are a hussy!’ I smiled to myself at the Southern word, but of course said nothing. ‘You are nothing but a hussy slut girl who is only after her own little satisfaction. Where is the submission in that? If you get just exactly what you want, it isn’t submission at all. It’s hedonism.’

  I secretly agreed with what he was saying, but I wasn’t focusing too well as he rained down a shower of slaps on my now very tender ass. I was hoping he was almost done and we could get on to the delightful business of making love. But he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

  Suddenly he let go of me. ‘My arm’s getting tired. And you don’t seem to have any trouble taking this little spanking. God, what was I thinking anyway? You’ve probably been subjected to much more rigorous corporal punishment.’ He was right; I certainly had.

  ‘So I have a better idea. Pull on that dress. Go out into my backyard. You can pull up your panties but don’t button your dress. Go out there and cut me a switch, hussy girl. There’s a nice big tree out back with low, hanging branches. Here, I’ll get you a clipper.’ I just stared at him as he went to a drawer and pulled out a little pair of pruning shears.

  As he handed them to me, he said, ‘Go on, girl. And make sure it’s a big one. If I don’t like it, I’ll get one you’re sure not to like!’ I hurried out his back door, hoping desperately that no neighbour was out that evening, enjoying the fresh spring air. I stood on tiptoes and cut a long, thin branch from the tree. I clipped off the excess twigs and leaves and hurried back inside, carrying the branch.

  I handed it to him without saying anything. My tender ass flesh was already twitching in dreaded anticipation of the switch.

  ‘Bend over this coffee table here,’ Eric said, pointing to one of his beautiful pieces. ‘You get too horny over my knee. We’ll just take the sex right out of this punishment.’

  Almost trembling, I kneeled and lay across the table. Eric walked up behind me and pulled the panties down unceremoniously to my knees. Then he lifted my dress way up over my head and left it that way, covering my head like a shawl. He pressed me down until my breasts were mashed against the smooth wood. A hand on my head caused me to lay it, turning to one side so I rested on my cheek.

  ‘OK, Remy. Time for a good old-fashioned switching.’

  The first blow caused me to jump and grab my ass where it had landed. ‘Jesus, that hurt!’ I yelled.

  ‘It’s supposed to. That’s why it’s a punishment, silly girl.’ Again the switch landed, just below the first spot. And again I yelled and clutched at myself.

  ‘Remy. I thought you were a trained slave girl. What is all this about?’

  ‘Oh, Eric! Please! They weren’t allowed to mark us. I’ve never been caned or — or switched or whatever you call this. I’m not used to it.’

  ‘Well, get used to it. Because I like it. You have two lovely welts on that creamy ass of yours, and before I’m done, you’ll have plenty more. Oh, and one more thing, Remy darlin’. Grab yourself again and I’ll tie you to this table. Got it?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ I managed, gripping the table sides with trembling fingers. I was scared of the switch, but incredibly, fiercely aroused. I
squeezed my eyes shut as the hard, stinging switch found its mark again and again. But somehow I didn’t move out of position again, though I was making a lot of noise, yelping and crying.

  Eventually I couldn’t help myself and I cried out, ‘Oh, please, please, please, please, no more, no more, no more.’ It was like a litany that I couldn’t control or stop. He finally took pity and dropped the switch, bending down to touch the welts he had raised with his own hand.

  ‘I’ll be right back,’ he said. I barely noticed he was gone. It was such a blessed relief not to feel the sting of the switch on my tender flesh. In a moment he was back and I felt something deliciously cold on my skin. I realised after a moment it was ice. Eric smoothed the cold, hard ice across my sore bottom and thighs, easing the sting as my flesh slowly became numb with cold. Then I felt a soothing balm being massaged gently into my skin. It felt lovely as his hands caressed and smoothed my body.

  ‘Can you get up now?’ The stern master was gone, it seemed, and Eric was all concern.

  I struggled to my feet, feeling a little dizzy and stiff after having crouched down for so long. Eric put his arm around my shoulders, and gently guided me to the bedroom. ‘Go get yourself ready for bed, Remy. Tonight you will sleep at my feet, totally naked. You haven’t yet earned your way back into my bed. But I’m feeling lenient, so you can stay at the bottom.’

  I was startled by this statement. I had expected some tender, passionate love-making at this point. But he expected me to sleep at his feet! I washed up in his bathroom, and came out, gingerly feeling the welts raised across my ass.

  Eric sat in the centre of his bed, cross-legged, in pyjama bottoms. Despite the discomfort of my sore bottom, I wasn’t impervious to his obvious, male charm. He looked so handsome sitting there, smiling at me from his perch. I walked toward him and started to lean into his arms. With a slow shake of his head, he gently pushed me away, guiding me down to the end of the bed.

  I sighed, but curled up at his feet, suddenly feeling deliciously exhausted. Eric leaned down, kissing me tenderly on the top of my head. Then he got up and went into the bathroom, turning off the light in the bedroom as he went. The last thing I remember was a cool breeze gently blowing the netting overhead, before a deep, dreamless sleep overtook me.

  I woke up some time later and found myself wrapped tight in Eric’s arms. I didn’t know if I’d crawled up or he had pulled me up, but his body felt wonderful and warm against mine. It was the first time in my life I slept all night with a man. I felt so safe and delicious.

  We were nestled like spoons, with my back and ass pressed into his stomach and thighs. His hands were cupped, one on each of my breasts. Suddenly it occurred to me, as I came fully awake, that it was possible that I wasn’t supposed to be up in this part of the bed. I didn’t want to risk another punishment. As carefully as I could, I started to lift Eric’s heavy arms from my body. He stirred and mumbled something. I froze, as still as a mouse on a moonlit night.

  After a moment, his breathing became deep and regular again, and I tried, once more, to lift his hands from my body. I succeeded in moving them and was just sliding down when he said, ‘And just where are you going, Remy, my love?’

  ‘Oh! Eric, you startled me. I don’t know how I got up here, but I promise it wasn’t on purpose — ’

  He interrupted me with a laugh. ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart. I brought you up here. I just couldn’t leave such a beautiful, soft, loving woman down at my feet any longer. I needed you in my arms.’

  I lay back happily, feeling deliciously languid and peaceful. Eric began to kiss me, starting at my eyelids, moving to my lips, my neck. His mouth trailed down to my breasts and then further, to my stomach. I felt his lips caress my hips and then nuzzle into my pubic hair. ‘Hmmm,’ he murmured, as he spread my legs, quickly finding my already aching pussy with his mouth.

  ‘Oh God, Remy. You taste so good. Like fresh rainwater and mushrooms and apricots. I can’t get enough of you.’ He stopped talking to concentrate on driving me wild.

  Soon I was moaning and arching up into his mouth. I wanted him to consume me, to use me up. Just before I reached a point where I couldn’t stop, Eric pulled away and propped himself on his elbow, wiping his wet face against his shoulder. I was sighing and shuddering with unfulfilled lust.

  ‘Remy. Listen to me. I don’t ever want you to come again without first asking my permission. You understand, dear? I want to possess your body. Think of it as my body. It belongs to me. You can’t touch it, sexually, or experience release without my express permission. This will help you feel more owned. You need to be owned, don’t you, Remy?’

  I nodded, feeling that my body would burn up from the craving to belong to this man. I wanted him to finish what he’d started, but I didn’t dare demand it. It was his body.

  ‘Remy, when you go away, because of course you must in just a few days, I want to continue to own your body. I want to possess you as completely as I can. Do you want that too?’

  ‘Yes, Eric. More than anything. But I don’t want to go away. I want to stay always.’

  ‘Oh, Remy. My darling girl. We’ll find a way to be together. But until then, you must never use your body for pleasure when you are alone. And if you remain in the Corps, and you are forced to come for someone else, you must silently beg my permission. Remember, even when you are lending it to others, that your body belongs to me.’

  I fell silent. I hadn’t even thought ahead to that, for some reason. I was still a slave girl in the secret Slave Corps. I would undoubtedly find an assignment in my mailbox when I returned. And Eric wasn’t asking me to give that up. How could he? We had only just met, after all.

  Did I want to give it up? I didn’t know; I would think about it tomorrow. Right now there was only one thing on my mind. ‘Please, Eric,’ I whispered in his ear. ‘May I come?’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Pony Girl

  Our last few days seemed to tumble and race to a close. On Saturday morning, as the sun was just climbing up over the horizon, Eric and I went out for a final walk together before I went to pick up Aunt Salome. The sky was as blue as cornflowers. Everything seemed to stand out in such bright relief. I realised as we walked quietly together that I had never really noticed the incredible splendour of nature around me, the way a hummingbird hovers over a flower, the way that flower opens. The way the bud splits so gradually, and always the same way, with the petals curling up and open toward the sun’s kiss.

  I felt such a sweet ache as we kissed and parted. I felt a little silly as I clung to him, not wanting to let go. It wasn’t as if I wouldn’t see him again! I had invited him to meet my Aunt over lunch at her place that very afternoon.

  As I climbed into Aunt Salome’s little yellow Porsche, I realised that my life had changed, maybe forever. I had started down a new path, though I wasn’t yet sure where it would lead me. As I pulled into the Airbus terminal, there was Aunt Salome, in a bright yellow-and-orange silk dress, waving wildly in my direction. ‘Aunt Salome!’ I called as I pulled up. ‘I thought I was early!’

  ‘Oh you are, sugar love. I took an earlier flight back. There was a space open in first class and this darling young man I met just insisted on paying my upgrade for the pleasure of my company. We met at the casino and became inseparable gambling partners. Lady Luck was right there with us! This trip more than paid for itself.’ She beamed at me as if this sort of thing happened to her all the time. I had a feeling it probably did.

  As she climbed into the car, Aunt Salome turned to me. ‘So how was it this week, Remy? Were you lonely? Did you miss the hustle and bustle of school life?’

  ‘Not for second. I don’t want to go back. I love it here, Aunt Salome. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this whole army career thing. I don’t know anymore.’

  She stared at me and then tilted her head quizzically. ‘You love it here? I admit it’s a nice place, but that doesn’t sound like my driven, dedicated niece, who is going to be one o
f the first lady generals in this country’s army. What’s come over you, girl? Wait a minute.’ She grinned slyly at me, understanding registering in her eyes. ‘Don’t tell me. The impervious Remy Harris has succumbed to romance! You’ve met someone, haven’t you?’

  Aunt Salome could always figure me out. I loved her for it. I didn’t answer, concentrating on my driving, but that in itself was answer enough, I suppose. She threw her head back, laughing with delight. ‘Well done, my girl! I was wondering when you would ever find yourself a beau! The tomboy is growing up at last!’

  ‘Oh, stop it, Aunt Salome. I just met a guy, that’s all.’

  ‘And when do I get to meet this guy? Where did you meet him? What does he do? What do his parents do? How old is he? Is it serious?’

  ‘Hold on. Before you give me the third degree about Eric, you can meet him yourself. I’ve invited him for lunch today. I knew you’d want to meet him.’

  ‘Eric, huh? Nice name. Sure, I’d love to meet him. From the glow on your face when you just say his name, I’m sure he’s terrific.’

  Not surprisingly, Aunt Salome and Eric got along famously. He was enchanted, as men invariably are, by her vivacious manner and interesting stories. Then she skilfully teased out his life story with a gentle interview about his intentions. Eric was forthcoming and friendly, though he did forget to mention that he supplemented his carpentry career with the occasional erotic novel. I just sat back, enjoying the show, munching my sandwich. Eric sat next to me, his hand resting casually over mine on the table. I felt his closeness and would have been happy to sit there forever.

  After Eric had left, Aunt Salome threw her arm around me. ‘Remy. He is it. I can feel it in my bones. Somehow you’ve managed to stumble on “Mr Right” your first time out! I get these feelings, you know. I knew it about your mamma and daddy and I’ve got the same feeling now. Be careful, Remy. Don’t let this one go too soon.’