Read Online A Strict Seduction by Maria Del Rey - Free Book Online Page B

buttocks and thighs, they were deep red and had never looked so good.
    She nodded. For once she had nothing to say, as though the pain that was smarting on her pretty little backside had robbed her of the power of speech. I watched as she covered herself up, wrapping a red robe tightly around her body, looking quite chaste compared to the way she normally flaunted herself in front of me.
    I went downstairs for another drop of scotch and left her standing awkwardly in her room, her eyes lowered and her face quite pale. The drink tasted good, I savoured every drop as I waited for her to come downstairs, knowing she would have found the experience thoroughly disorientating. I wondered whether it had been the first time she’d ever been chastised. Certainly there had been none of the shock and horror I would have expected.
    â€˜Paul…’ I turned and saw that she was standing in the doorway, her dark soulful eyes looking at me nervously.
    â€˜Back to say you’re sorry?’ I asked her sternly.
    â€˜Sorry? But you’re the one that punished me,’ she whispered softly.
    â€˜Will it be the last time?’
    â€˜It stings,’ she complained, neatly avoiding a reply to my question.
    â€˜Show me,’ I demanded, setting my tumbler of scotch down on the counter and advancing towards her.
    â€˜But… but I haven’t got anything on under this robe,’ she told me breathlessly, her face colouring slightly.
    â€˜It’s a pity you weren’t so modest earlier, isn’t it? Now, show me.’
    â€˜No, I won’t show you,’ she told me defiantly, her lips twisting into a smile. Her eyes were burning again, with an intense glow of excitement.
    I strode across the room and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her towards the armchair. She struggled but her heart wasn’t in it, her squeals and complaints were empty and passionless. I positioned her beside the armchair and lifted the back of her robe, exposing her beautiful backside, which was tanned a deep pink that contrasted with the white skin of her thighs. I could still make out my handprints on her flesh, but stronger than that was the array of oval marks that the hairbrush had imprinted. I stroked her buttocks and she winced, her punished flesh warm to my touch.
    â€˜It’s a shame that one session hasn’t been enough,’ I told her, shaking my head sadly.
    â€˜What do you mean, Paul?’ she asked, her eyes brimming with tears.
    â€˜I mean that your wilful behaviour hasn’t changed.’
    â€˜You can’t mean…’
    I knelt down and slipped her dainty slipper from her left foot and then straightened up. She gave a wide-eyed look of horror when I flexed the rubber sole, testing its mettle before deciding it was a good enough paddle for her posterior.
    â€˜Ten strokes of this,’ I explained, ‘and any nonsense and you’ll get extra.’
    She bit her lip and nodded, then, without prompting, she bent over the thick padded arm of the chair. Her position was perfect, backside nice and round, pink and inviting, her thighs very straight, her breasts rubbing softly against the seat of the chair. I raised the slipper and brought it down swiftly, retribution laid against her pert young buttocks. She tried hard not to cry out as the first smack burned on her behind. I touched her, felt the heat of impact with the tips of my fingers. The second and third strokes were on the same buttock, spreading that heat evenly. The fourth stroke I switched target, and when it landed heavily on her right bottom cheek she let out a howl that goaded me on for strokes five and six.
    â€˜How many have you had?’ I asked, pausing for a second, wanting to keep the suspense and raise the tension further.
    â€˜Seven, Paul,’ she whispered miserably.
    â€˜You’ll get extra for that lie,’ I whispered.
    I cut off her complaint with a hard stroke of the slipper, aimed between her