Read Online Box Set: Highland Flings: Scottish Historical Victorian Romance Taboo BDSM Erotica by Bonnie Brand - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Bonnie Brand
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beat me, and again I thanked him for it, and with each following strike it became easier to say thank you, even though the pain became more and more severe. I could feel the flesh of my bottom swelling and reddening with each skelp as the Laird marked me, made me his. ‘Thank ye, thank ye, thank ye Laird,’ I said, and I knew that I was thanking him with sincerity, as now each skelp had started to make my pussy began to beat with pleasure, with anticipation. I knew he was looking at me there, because with each strike now he was pinching my buttocks and pushing them up so that he could see that secret wee place. I knew that I had started to glisten for him. Then, before I knew it, the ten skelps were up.
‘Och look,’ he said, ‘it seems like someone’s wee kitty is positively seeping with all this attention.’ I felt his fingers walking their way back along my rump and settle on the inside of my thighs. ‘I suppose for a bad lassie like ye, getting smacked on the behind must have made yer cunny-skin wet with lust.’ His fat fingers started to slowly stroke the lips of my Highland rose, smoothly stroking my sweet wee organ, causing even more nectar to spill from inside me, as I became entirely consumed with a burning passion.
‘Aye, Laird,’ I whispered, ‘please, my Laird.’ I could still feel the sting from his hand on my behind, and the memory of the pain mixed with the utter pleasure his hands began to gave me. His finger was the first part of anyone save me to enter the space between my legs, and his hooked, probing fingers discovered for the first time how soft it was inside me, how hot and how quivering my pussy was. He began to slide his thick, wide-knuckled digits into me while making wee deep groaning sounds. I could feel my wetness starting to coat his hands, as he now plunged two fingers inside me.
‘What a tight wee kitty,’ he murmured to himself, as he started to push harder, deeper into me. My body began twitching as he explored me, and with each confident pound of his fingers, I gave myself more and more to him, to his mastery, to his power, to his perversion. I now imagined him striking my behind again and again as his fingers stretched my flesh, then, suddenly, he moved his other hand to a space just above my opening, to what now felt the centre of my sexual power, and he began to wetly slide his fingers over a hard nub of flesh there. The pleasure, the surprise of it, was like flowers opening at the speed of light in my mind. I felt streaks of hot joy spread instantly over my body and then, black spots appeared in my vision as I began to buckle on top of him, and finally, without thinking, my mouth made a word that I’d never said before, and I exploded with pleasure, as my entire body stiffened and relaxed.
‘Fuck,’ I gasped, my body collapsing in joy over him.
‘My lassie has grown up,’ said the Laird, before wiping his soaking hand on my backside. ‘I look forward to our next meeting.’
Chapter 19
I struggled to understand quite what had happened between the Laird and myself. Had he been angry with me? Had he wanted to somehow show that he owned me? Had he done what he’d done to me just for his own perverse pleasure, to show the power that he had over me?
After our encounter, the Laird had lifted me up, before placing me down on his chair, with my skirts now safely back down over my legs.
‘Wait here,’ he said, and within a few minutes, Agnes, the maid, had come to collect me. She took me up to my chambers, and because I was so shaky on my feet, I was slow to follow her up the stairs.
When we finally arrived in my chamber, I was shocked by how beautiful it was. The walls were painted a pastel pink color, and large heather-coloured drapes hung heavy in front of the huge windows which dominated the space. But there was one thing which reminded me that I was most definitely in the domain of the Laird. There was a large oil painting of the Laird of the manor
‘Och look,’ he said, ‘it seems like someone’s wee kitty is positively seeping with all this attention.’ I felt his fingers walking their way back along my rump and settle on the inside of my thighs. ‘I suppose for a bad lassie like ye, getting smacked on the behind must have made yer cunny-skin wet with lust.’ His fat fingers started to slowly stroke the lips of my Highland rose, smoothly stroking my sweet wee organ, causing even more nectar to spill from inside me, as I became entirely consumed with a burning passion.
‘Aye, Laird,’ I whispered, ‘please, my Laird.’ I could still feel the sting from his hand on my behind, and the memory of the pain mixed with the utter pleasure his hands began to gave me. His finger was the first part of anyone save me to enter the space between my legs, and his hooked, probing fingers discovered for the first time how soft it was inside me, how hot and how quivering my pussy was. He began to slide his thick, wide-knuckled digits into me while making wee deep groaning sounds. I could feel my wetness starting to coat his hands, as he now plunged two fingers inside me.
‘What a tight wee kitty,’ he murmured to himself, as he started to push harder, deeper into me. My body began twitching as he explored me, and with each confident pound of his fingers, I gave myself more and more to him, to his mastery, to his power, to his perversion. I now imagined him striking my behind again and again as his fingers stretched my flesh, then, suddenly, he moved his other hand to a space just above my opening, to what now felt the centre of my sexual power, and he began to wetly slide his fingers over a hard nub of flesh there. The pleasure, the surprise of it, was like flowers opening at the speed of light in my mind. I felt streaks of hot joy spread instantly over my body and then, black spots appeared in my vision as I began to buckle on top of him, and finally, without thinking, my mouth made a word that I’d never said before, and I exploded with pleasure, as my entire body stiffened and relaxed.
‘Fuck,’ I gasped, my body collapsing in joy over him.
‘My lassie has grown up,’ said the Laird, before wiping his soaking hand on my backside. ‘I look forward to our next meeting.’
Chapter 19
I struggled to understand quite what had happened between the Laird and myself. Had he been angry with me? Had he wanted to somehow show that he owned me? Had he done what he’d done to me just for his own perverse pleasure, to show the power that he had over me?
After our encounter, the Laird had lifted me up, before placing me down on his chair, with my skirts now safely back down over my legs.
‘Wait here,’ he said, and within a few minutes, Agnes, the maid, had come to collect me. She took me up to my chambers, and because I was so shaky on my feet, I was slow to follow her up the stairs.
When we finally arrived in my chamber, I was shocked by how beautiful it was. The walls were painted a pastel pink color, and large heather-coloured drapes hung heavy in front of the huge windows which dominated the space. But there was one thing which reminded me that I was most definitely in the domain of the Laird. There was a large oil painting of the Laird of the manor
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