THE BRAT AND HER MASTER
AISHLING MORGAN
Published by Xcite Books Ltd – 2013
ISBN 9781908766953
Copyright © Aishling Morgan 2013
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd Floor, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY
This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imaginations and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Also by Aishling Morgan
Prologue
Down in the house called Foxdens a girl was being spanked.
There could be no other explanation for the sharp, feminine gasps, or the regular, fleshy smacks sounding from the conservatory, and if a girl was being spanked, it could only be the girl Adam had been watching just minutes before.
She was 18 or 19, he estimated, and beautiful, as slender and delicate as the flowers she’d been walking among and picking. Her skin was like cream, her face a picture of delicate, elfin perfection, the hair that fell to the level of her thighs palest ash blonde. All she’d had on were sandals and a long, white summer dress that moved as she walked to hint at high, pointed breasts and a rounded little bottom, creating a vision which had held Adam entranced as she’d made a careful selection of the choicest blooms and gathered them into a bunch.
He’d wanted to call out to her, to somehow attract her attention and warn her about the owner of Foxdens, the old man he knew only as The Gardener, who did not take kindly to trespassers, least of all those who damaged his precious flowers. Yet she was plainly oblivious to the situation, so much so that he’d told himself she must have had every right to be there, and every right to pick the flowers. When a voice had called out, not from Foxdens but from the nearby Gatehouse, she had paused long enough to pick one last bloom, then tripped happily away across the lawn. Whoever had called out had used the name Jasmine. Now Jasmine was being spanked, and the man doing the spanking could only be The Gardener himself.
Adam hesitated, torn between a desire to help her and a fear of the cantankerous old man that went back to early childhood. The Gardener was tall and angular, with a body that seemed to be made of coat hangers and a face the colour of old brick. High, bushy eyebrows and a bristling, white moustache added to his ferocious appearance. His bad temper was notorious, yet he was now old and frail, surely no match for a young man, nor for a young woman for that matter, which suggested something very odd indeed – that the girl had accepted her ignominious punishment.
Puzzled, Adam found himself wondering exactly what was going on. It seemed likely that Jasmine had accepted her spanking, if not exactly meekly, to judge by her squeals. That implied she might also have accepted yet more intimate indignities, such as allowing her pretty white summer dress to be lifted, or even having her knickers pulled down. And if that had happened, then her bottom would be bare, bare and on show through the glass of the conservatory.
Adam was climbing the wall even as his train of thought reached its glorious but guilty conclusion. As he crossed the lawn he was telling himself that he was going to rescue her, and that the possibility of getting a peep at her bare bottom was purely incidental, but he knew this was a lie. When he reached the bed of blue delphiniums that ran around the curve of the conservatory he ducked low and slowed his pace, to peer in between the tall flower spikes.
The spanking was still in progress, Jasmine’s cries and the sound of the old man’s hand being applied to her bottom now clear. Adam raised his head cautiously, peering through the delphiniums and into the conservatory. Inside, a bank of The Gardener’s precious dark roses formed the backdrop to Jasmine’s spanking. The old man was seated on a chair of wrought iron, his eyes popping from his puce-coloured face, his long, bony legs extended to accommodate her body. Her face was turned away but her dainty little bottom was on full show, wriggling beneath plain white cotton panties pulled so tight they seemed to have been painted on. The material followed every contour of her softly bulging cheeks, the gentle groove of her slit and even the lips of her cunt, each and every exquisite curve displayed as if in deliberate, loving detail. Naked flesh bulged out from either leg hole, pink from spanking and still quivering faintly from the last smack. Then The Gardener paused to take a firm grip on the waistband, his gruff voice blending with Jasmine’s gasp as she realised she was to be stripped behind.
‘Oh, the hell with decency, let’s have you bare bottom, Miss Jasmine Brown.’
Guilt and arousal welled up in Adam’s chest at the prospect of watching the beautiful girl get her panties pulled down – emotions that became painfully strong as he imagined her agonised feelings. Helpless fury and biting shame, bitter consternation and raging self-pity as her modesty was stripped away by some irate old fart who didn’t even have the intelligence or humanity to realise how utterly inappropriate it was to give a girl a spanking, let alone a bare-bottom spanking, whatever her sin. Yet, to his amazement, Jasmine didn’t put up a fight at all but meekly lifted her hips to allow the little white panties to be peeled down off her bottom. As he took in the sight, his feelings of guilt redoubled, yet he found himself unable to look away, let alone act to put a stop to the appalling indignity being inflicted on the young woman. She was just too beautiful, the situation just too compelling, with her pale, cheeky bottom now completely naked, and so trim and firm that not only was her sweetly made little cunt fully visible but also the tight pink dimple of her anus.
The Gardener clearly agreed, peering close to inspect the slit of Jasmine’s bottom and the rear of her cunt, his expression no longer angry but full of dirty lust, lewd and invasive, his gooseberry eyes popping and his moustache trembling to his breath. Still Adam hesitated, and only when The Gardener began to spank once more did his guilt finally overcome his desire. At the very first smack, Jasmine gave a low, pained cry, so full of humiliation and distress for what was being done to her that Adam was moving on the instant. Ducking low, he quickly skirted the end of the conservatory towards the door, telling himself he would confront the pervert, physically if need be, only to stop once more, not because his courage had failed, but because he could now see Jasmine’s face beyond the roses. It was not screwed up in tear-stained misery as he’d expected, but set in bliss.
Her eyes were closed, just lightly, and shaded by a fine curtain of ash-blonde hair hanging down over her face. Her mouth was slightly open and her cheeks were flushed almost as pink as her bottom, which was still visible, now lifted to the old man’s smacks. It seemed impossible, in direct contradiction to everything he’d been imagining and everything he believed, but Jasmine was obviously enjoying having her bottom spanked every bit as much as The Gardener was enjoying giving her the spanking. Even as Adam stared in disbelief she gave a contented little wriggle, but he was still struggling to accept the seeming impossibility of what was happening, until she spoke.
‘Oh yes, spank me, just like that. Haven’t I been a naughty, naughty girl?’
She broke off with a low, happy purr and gave her bottom another lewd little wiggle, encouraging the old man to greater efforts, while he was now grinning openly. Slowly, the truth sank in to Adam’s numb brain, that what he was witnessing was no punishment, nor even the act of an elderly pervert taking advantage of an innocent girl. The Gardener was obviously a pervert but the girl he was spanking was anything but innocent. Still, Adam’s mind rebelled, not wanting to ac
cept a reality so utterly at odds with what he’d expected. Yet there was one thing he could not deny – his own physical reaction. His cock was rock hard in his pants, so stiff it hurt, while his balls ached and the urge to touch himself was overpowering.
He had planned to burst in through the doors but that now seemed foolish. Instead, he found himself wondering if he dared sneak back to his original vantage point and take care of his urgent need to the sight of Jasmine’s naked bottom as she was spanked. The idea filled him with guilt and disgust but his hand was already moving to his crotch, to squeeze the long, hard bulge of his erection – just as Jasmine looked up. For one moment their eyes were locked, hers the palest possible blue and wide in sudden shock, his no less wide and full of horror and embarrassment.
Adam fled, not back the way he’d come but up the sloping lawn towards the woods at the rear of Foxdens. She’d seen him, there was no doubt of that, but there had to be at least a chance that she hadn’t recognised him as a neighbour. They’d never spoken, and she’d seemed unaware of his existence, although that was a pretence girls were good at. The Gardener was another matter, all too familiar with him and all too ready to lodge a complaint, and Adam was already imagining the embarrassment of an interview in which he was accused of being a peeping Tom and a pervert.
Only when he reached the shelter of the trees did he dare to look back. There was no sign of the expected pursuit, but that was only partially reassuring, as he could see into the conservatory and there was no sign of The Gardener, nor of Jasmine. As he pushed up into the woods he tried to reassure himself that, under the circumstances, not even The Gardener would have the nerve to accuse him of peeping – not when it meant confessing to giving a girl a bare-bottom spanking. And yet he had a nasty feeling that The Gardener might not see spanking as inappropriate at all, just the opposite, while Jasmine’s reaction was even harder to predict when she’d so obviously been enjoying her punishment.
By the time he’d crossed the old stone wall that marked the edge of Foxdens he was sure nobody was following, and thoroughly confused. What he’d seen went so strongly against everything he’d been taught to believe about how men and women behaved that it should have been an impossibility, and yet there was no doubting the evidence of his own eyes. He’d seen the pleasure on Jasmine’s face and he’d heard what she’d said, confessing to her own naughty behaviour and complimenting The Gardener on the way he was spanking her. Worse still, he couldn’t help but wish he’d been the one dealing with her bottom.
‘Not me. I’m not a pervert.’
He’d spoken aloud, as he turned along the wall towards his own property, but the state of his cock gave his words the lie, still hard despite the shock and guilt of getting caught. The temptation to find a quiet spot and relieve himself with his hand was strong, so strong his fingers were shaking as he pushed aside the tall ferns.
Ahead was a clump of rocks where he’d often gone for a moment of privacy and he found himself moving towards them, only to draw up short at the sight of a flicker of white among the pines. Jasmine stepped out in front of him, her face serene, even a little amused – not at all the reaction he’d have expected of a girl who’d just caught him peeping while she was stripped behind and spanked.
‘Well?’ she said.
Adam made a face, too embarrassed and confused to find an answer.
‘Do you like to watch me?’ she demanded.
Again Adam failed to find an answer, his face now red with embarrassment.
‘I do know who you are,’ she went on. ‘Your grandparents live in the first house up the hill. And I know you were watching me.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Adam managed, stammering. ‘I … I heard what was happening and I …’
‘You wanted to see me bare bottom?’ she suggested.
‘No! I wanted to help you.’
‘Why?’
‘Why?’ Adam echoed. ‘You were being punished … you were being spanked!’
‘Maybe I deserved to be spanked?’
‘Nobody deserves to be spanked!’
‘I do.’
‘How can you say that? You’re so beautiful, and …’
‘Now that’s just silly,’ she interrupted. ‘Why shouldn’t I be spanked, just because I’m beautiful?’
‘No, I mean …’
‘It’s only common sense,’ Jasmine continued blithely. ‘Everybody likes to see pretty girls go bare, especially bare bottom, so pretty girls get more spankings.’
‘But … but he’s got no right to treat you like that!’ Adam insisted. ‘Can’t you see it? He spanked you, a dirty old man like that!’
‘Oh, and I suppose you’d rather I was spanked by a young man, a bit like yourself, perhaps?’
‘No,’ Adam answered, although his voice sounded insincere even to himself. ‘You shouldn’t let yourself be treated like that, you … you even let him pull your knickers down!’
‘Why shouldn’t I? They’re my knickers.’
‘What? You’re not making any sense! Can’t you see it? You let a dirty old man pull your knickers down and spank your bottom! You didn’t have to let him!’
‘Maybe I need to have my knickers pulled down? Maybe I need my bottom spanked?’
‘It doesn’t have to be like that …’ Adam began, then faltered, thinking of the ecstasy on her face as she had lain over the old man’s knee. ‘Anyway, I wasn’t peeping. I thought you might want to be rescued.’
‘Ah, so you’re the White Knight?’ she asked, her voice inquisitive but also mocking. ‘The big, bold White Knight, come to rescue the poor, pathetic little maiden because she’s having her botty smacked by a nasty old man? Well, maybe she deserves to have her botty smacked? Maybe she even likes to have her botty smacked, how about that? Maybe she likes to be put over the knee and have her little white panties pulled down and her little white botty smacked until she’s all pink, just like your face? In fact, I wonder which is the pinker, your face or my bottom?’
She turned to lift her dress and pull her panties aside, to show off one naked, pink cheek, frowning as she made a brief inspection before letting go. Adam could only stare, angry at the way she was taunting him but still painfully aroused.
‘My bottom is pinker,’ she went on, now quite casual, ‘but only slightly.’
Adam was still staring as she gave him a curious look – half-innocent, as if showing her freshly smacked bottom to strangers was the most natural thing in the world, half-challenging, as if daring him to do something about her display. He thought of pulling out his cock and demanding that she take it in her hand to make up for being such a tease, or even suck him off, but then he imagined her running away, laughing, to leave him in an agony of frustration and shame. She moved away toward the rocks, her hips swaying gently under the thin white material of her dress, talking as she went.
‘Do you know what the White Knight does to the maidens he rescues? No? He fucks them.’
Adam felt his face flush hotter still at her words, which she’d spoken with an obscene relish completely at odds with her innocent appearance.
‘It’s only fair,’ she went on, suddenly all cool logic. ‘They were going to be fucked anyway, or worse, so he might as well. And if they’ve been silly, or have got themselves into a situation just so he’ll come to their rescue, then he spanks them first. I was silly, very silly, picking flowers in the garden, but I didn’t expect a White Knight to come to my rescue. Oh no, I just expected to have my bottom smacked, and I got my bottom smacked, very nicely, but then you turn up, just when I’m getting all warm and naughty. So what are you going to do about it, that’s what I want to know?’
He followed as she walked, mesmerised by the way her bottom moved under her dress and by her taunting voice. She turned, her eyebrows raised in exaggerated enquiry, her dress now twisted slightly so it followed the contours of one high, pert breast, plainly not constricted by a bra and with the small, pointed nipple making a noticeable bump in the material. Adam stepped
closer, struggling for the right words to say in the face of her strange, provocative conversation. She smiled and raised one hand to beckon him forward, only to run.
Adam followed, burning with anger and frustration for her, emotions made worse by her happy laughter as she fled. She was fast too, dodging between the pines and ducking under the low branches, making him feel clumsy and slow as he crashed after her in pursuit. At first he thought she was only teasing and would stop at the rocks to surrender herself to him, but as she began to draw ahead her laughter took on a new, mocking note and he realised that if he wanted her he would have to catch her.
He forced himself forward, ignoring scratches and the branches that whipped at his body, with Jasmine skipping lightly ahead, fast, then faster still as she broke out from the trees, her white dress fluttering behind her. Beyond was the moor, wide open to the sky save for where clusters of rock broke up through the turf, and Adam was finally able to put his full strength into running. When Jasmine glanced back she was laughing at him, but when she looked again, her mocking smile immediately broke to surprise and consternation for the amount of ground he’d made up. She ran on but she’d lost her zest, now straining and still losing ground. Adam found himself grinning and slowed a little on purpose, just to draw out her apprehension as he closed in. He could hear her breathing – urgent, near-desperate gasps of air that gave way to a last cry of despair as his fingers caught at her dress.
She tripped. The thin cotton tore away from her shoulder and she cried out again as her dress was wrenched off, leaving a limp, white rag in Adam’s hand as she sprawled on the turf. For a moment she was on her knees, bottom-up in nothing but tiny white panties stretched taut across bulging cheeks. Then she rolled onto her back, her face full of excitement and arousal, but also what seemed to Adam very real fear.
‘You’re going to do it, aren’t you?’ she panted. ‘You’re going to spank me and fuck me, aren’t you? To spank me and fuck me …’
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