“The Submission of Little Emmie” – Excerpt
Lord Burkewood
snatched Emmie’s arm and dragged her across his lap. He had the back of her
dress up and her drawers down before she could draw a breath, and took a moment
to survey the nice blush left on her bottom by the earlier correction from Mrs.
Pew. He could also see a bit of pink peeking out from between her inner thighs,
as well. However, neither of these would lessen the punishment he was about to
give her.
Those strong
hands she had admired and feared moments earlier now descended onto her unprotected
buttocks without hesitation or restraint. Emmie screeched in pain and fear as
she felt the devastating skin on skin contact. Lord Burkewood purposely swung
his arm so the flat of his hand made full contact with the lower curve of her
backside, repeating the chastisement for a minimum of twenty cracks. He never
did fewer than twenty; it was a matter of principle.
"Stop!
Stop! Please god, stop!" Emmie wailed, her small hands digging into his
strong thighs.
He ignored her,
only pausing to admire her flaming buttocks. Thinking the worst was over, she
made an effort to dislodge herself from his lap. This was a mistake, and His
Lordship showed her the error of her assumption by delivering another
blistering round of smacks. Emmie was now crying so hard she started to choke.
Never in her short life had she experienced such pain.
“Chosen to be His Little Angeline” – Excerpt
"Lift your
skirts."
Sobbing, she
reached back and grabbed small handfuls of the material, slowly inching it up
her thighs. She stopped when the material bunched around her bottom. "Lift
them all the way up, Angeline," Blackhurst snapped. Dutifully she
submitted, pulling the material over her bottom to bunch around her waist.
Stepping behind her, Blackhurst looked at her pale pink skin through the thin
fabric of her pantalets. He ran a single finger down the seam of her bottom,
pushing the fabric away from her cheeks, framing them. Angeline startled and
tried to rise. He placed a restraining hand on her lower back, preventing her.
"Be
still."
He observed how
the thin cambric both displayed and hid her charms. Feeling her sharp indrawn
breath as he slid his hand from her lower back to curve around to her front, he
gently pulled on the ribbon holding her pantalets in place. Hooking two fingers
on either side, he slowly slid the fabric down her hips. Crouching down on his
haunches behind her, Blackhurst eased the undergarment down over first one
slippered foot, then the other.
Angeline
whimpered when she felt his warm breath on the under curve of her bottom. She
started to squirm and shift, confused by the dueling emotions of embarrassment,
fear and arousal. He smiled, knowing full well his effect on the poor naive
girl and then once again rose to his full height. He took a moment to enjoy the
sight of this sweet little angel anxiously waiting for her first spanking with
her soft bottom on full view. Despite her slight frame, she had an ample bottom
with the cutest little dimples on the top of each cheek. He tested the weight
of one cheek with his hand. Angeline yelped with surprise.
"Let us
begin."
Angeline
squeezed her eyes tight and held her breath, bracing herself for the first hit,
but it did not come. Perhaps he had reconsidered.
"Angeline,
unclench your bottom cheeks this instant," he demanded sharply.
She was so
frightened by the command she immediately unclenched and so was unprepared for
the first painful smack. Oh god, it stung!
"No. No.
No. I changed my mind. Stop. I won't let you do this!" she cried, trying
to rise.
"You are
not letting me do anything, angel."
The spanking
continued…slowly. Blackhurst wanted her to feel every stinging ripple from each
and every slap. He raised his hand high and brought it down hard on her plump
right backside cheek, watching as her bottom contracted then bounced, the pale
cheek blanching even paler for just a moment before flushing in a riot of pinks
and reds. Still he waited. Finally, his patience was rewarded when the faint
outline of a handprint appeared on her perfect cheek. He had marked her as his
own.
“Penelope’s
Punishment” – Excerpt
“One punishment
at a time, little one,” he said, gripping the folded leather strap harder.
“I will correct
that impertinent mouth of yours later.” Alex leaned down on his haunches so he
was eye level with her. “Right now, we need to correct your dangerous decision
to run from me.”
Penelope wisely
kept quiet, struck numb from his intense words and stare. Alex rose and stepped
behind her. A shiver of awareness coursed through Penelope, knowing that behind
her, he was staring at her bare bottom. After several tense moments, she jumped
when cool, smooth leather softly touched the heated skin between her shoulder
blades. He traced the length of her back with the strap, running it over the
curve of one globe.
Penelope felt of
rush of moisture between her thighs. She was lightheaded with fear, and
something else she feared to name. “My lord…”
“Tsk…tsk…tsk,
naughty girl,” crooned Alex, lightly tapping her bottom with the strap on each
word. “That is not what you’re supposed to call me.”
Penelope wet her
lips and tried again, “Papa…I’ve…I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to do
this.”
Alex leaned
close to her ear and whispered, “You have no choice.”
She shrieked and
pulled wildly at her wrist binds. “Let me go, you bugger…you…you…wanker!”
Alex placed a
restraining hand on her lower back. “Cease!” he ordered. Penelope instantly
stilled. “It is this wild, rash behavior we need to correct. You act with no
thought to your safety. You open your mouth with no care to the consequences.
You need this punishment more than you know.”
Penelope shook
her head as tears coursed down her cheek, still denying what she knew deep down
to be true.
“Ask for your
punishment, Penelope.”
She shook her
head, stubbornly pressing her lips into a tight line.
“Ask for your
punishment or face a much harsher one,” he said with more menace.
Still she
remained mute. She would be damned if she asked him to punish her!
“Very well,”
said a resigned Alex. “Your punishment was to be ten straps to your bare
bottom. You will now receive those in addition to a more exacting punishment.”
Penelope opened
her mouth to release another stream of colorful, guttural language. Alex closed
his open hand over her mouth and once again leaned in close to her ear. “You
have already opened yourself up to a more painful discipline than I had
intended this eve. I suggest you hold your tongue before you truly anger me and
make your situation even worse.”
Her eyes widened
in horror but she remained silent.
“Let us begin.”
Alex slowly wrapped one end of the well-oiled strap around his right hand,
leaving two feet excess. Anchoring one foot behind him, he leaned over and
placed his left hand on her lower back. Arching his arm, the strap swung
through the air with a hiss before landing with a loud crack in the center of
her pale, vulnerable buttocks.
Penelope’s
surprised shriek was cut short as she ruthlessly clenched her jaw, determined
to show no reaction or pain. Alex smiled…that would change. He aimed the second
swat lower, over her sit spot. She was so tiny that the three inch wide strap
easily covered large areas of her delicate skin with every contact. By the
third smack, Penelope could no longer contain her pain.
She howled in
agony as the fourth hit her sit spot again. Her bottom, already warmed by the
heat from the flames, now felt as if it were truly on fire. The pricking,
stinging sensation was almost too much to bear. She went up on her toes and
braced for another hit. She did not have to wait long. Alex continued the
assault on her unprotected bottom till it glowed a harsh angry red. By the time
it was over, Penelope was choking on her own sobs.
“What am I
looking at Kitten?” he demanded as he caressed her heated bottom.
Penelope did not
even think to ignore his question. “My…my punished bottom.”
“Papa’s
Little Pain Princess” – Excerpt
“You owe me a
punishment,” his voice pitched dark and low.
“A…punishment?”
she squeaked.
“Yes, you were a
very naughty girl. You need to be punished. By me.” He smiled.
Winnie occupied
herself by straightening a display of ribbons. “Come here, Winnie.”
She thought
about pretending not to hear him. “I wouldn’t,” he stated flatly.
Winnie started.
It was like he read her mind. With slow determined steps, she approached him but
stopped a few feet away. “Closer,” Archer ordered as he uncrossed his legs and
opened his knees wide.
Winnie took
another step so the hem of her flimsy dress brushed the tops of his polished
boots.
Archer steepled
his fingers in front of his chest. “Closer.”
“There’s no
room,” Winnie said hesitantly, blushing as she glimpsed the unmistakable ridge
outlined along his thigh. The light buff trousers concealing nothing.
Ignoring her
objection, Archer merely raised an eyebrow as his gaze remained fixed on her
face. Chewing her bottom lip in indecision, Winnie finally slid her slippered
right foot along the carpeted floor before slowly joining it with her left. She
was now standing between his outstretched legs.
Winnie closed
her arms tight about her as if she could make her body smaller, lowering her
head, refusing to meet his intense gaze. Amused, Archer pressed his legs
together till his inner thighs brushed against her skirts. Winnie’s mouth fell
open in shock. Her dress was so thin, she could feel the heat from his skin
through her dress and petticoats. She tried to back away but his legs
tightened, trapping her.
“Please, my
lord. Madame could return at any moment,” she pleaded.
“Then you had
better do as I say without prevarication,” he warned darkly. “Did you touch
that sweet, little cunny of yours dreaming of me forcing my cock on you?”
Winnie felt
lightheaded with shame and guilt. Should she even try to deny it? It seemed
pointless since this enigmatic man seemed to have the power to read her
innermost, wicked thoughts!
Winnie covered
her face in mortification. “Please don’t, my lord,” she muttered.
Archer rubbed
his thigh against her own. Winnie could feel the press of his arousal. “Answer
me, Winnie.”
All she could
muster was a small shake of her head…yes.
Archer smiled.
She was the perfect combination of seductive innocence. Her existence in the
East End ensured she was not completely sheltered as to the ways between a man
and a woman. Yet, her blushes confirmed she was undoubtedly still untouched.
“Unbutton your
dress.”
All Winnie could
do was stare at him over the tips of her fingers.
“Unbutton. Your.
Dress.”
Her mind spun.
He couldn’t possibly mean to…to…not…here…in the salon…during the day…with
her…um…ah…
“My dear, there
will be time for that later, after your punishment. For now, I want you to
unbutton the front of your dress.”
Once again, he
knew her thoughts before she had even fully formed them. Not feeling as if she
had a choice and trusting in the safety of the daylight and open setting,
Winnie forced her numb fingers to unhook the tiny buttons that ran down the
front of her dress. Slowly the threadbare, white chemise and top of her
whalebone corset were revealed as the flaps of her dress fell open.
She was so tiny,
her beautiful breasts were at his eye level. Archer leaned forward. Placing his
index finger between her generous cleavage, he pressed on the top of the corset
till it shifted down a few inches, just enough for her breasts to peek out over
the top. He could see the cute, pink nipples through the practically sheer
chemise.
Tearing his gaze
from the stunning vision before him, Archer glanced up to see Winnie’s eyes
tightly close, her mouth slightly open, her cheeks flushed, her breaths coming
in short gasps. He smiled. He breathed deeply, taking in the warm, fresh scent
of her skin. No perfume. Just the clean scent of lemon verbena soap and her.
Knowing his time was short. Knowing if he gave into the impulse to taste her
flesh he would not be able to stop there, Archer decided to test Winnie’s
pleasure impulses.
He gently
flicked her right nipple, watching as it became even more erect. She started
but kept her eyes closed. Archer then lightly rolled both nipples between his
index finger and thumb. Winnie shifted on her feet, a soft moan escaping her
open lips. Instinctively, her body leaned in closer to his.
Without warning,
he clamped down hard on her nipples. Pinching and twisting the delicate bunch
of nerves. Archer tightened his thighs around Winnie as she bucked, trying to
escape the pain. Locking her against him. Pressing her harder against his
erection. “Keep quiet, my dove. You don’t want Madame to hear and come
running,” he whispered harshly as he kept up the pressure on her nipples, oblivious
to her distress.
Winnie bit down
on her lower lip till she tasted blood. Quelling her own cries.
The moment he
released her tortured flesh, there was this euphoric rush. As if the pain
turned the absence of pain into pleasure. Her whole body felt warm and
sensitive, especially the secret place between her legs. Without thought, she
collapsed onto his lap. Archer kissed her forehead, as he gingerly re-buttoned
her dress.
“Was that my
punishment, my lord?” she asked, still in a daze.
Her gray eyes
still dark and stormy with confused desire. “No, my dear. That was just a test.
Your punishment is still to come.”
