Read Online One Week in the Private House by Esme Ombreux - Free Book Online
Authors: Esme Ombreux
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target area. No, no, you silly girl. The other side. I'm not left-handed.'
This can't be happening, Jem thought as she climbed awkwardly on to the couch. I must look really stupid. I'm just draping myself over this stuck-up bitch's lap and I'm going to let her spank me.
She closed her eyes. She could feel the texture of the tapestry upholstery against her elbows, her knees and, by moving forward slightly, her nipples. Her stomach was pressed against the velvet cushion. Her left thigh was touching Miss Morelli's skin, and was brushed by Miss Morelli's black lace top. She had been in this position before, of course, when playing games with boyfriends. But this was different: this was with a stranger, and a stranger who was a woman, too. This was about power, not sex. And yet in a strange way that made it all much sexier.
'Legs apart, girl.' Miss Morelli's hand suddenly slapped the back of Jem's left thigh. 'Let's have a good display.'
Jem found herself inching her knees across the upholstery. She knew that she was revealing her most intimate parts, but she couldn't help herself. Miss Morelli's fingernails stroked up and down the widening cleft between Jem 's buttocks, and circled her anus. Jem could feel her labia separating, and she knew that Miss Morelli couldn't fail to notice the shiny wetness that she could tell was almost dripping from her vulva. She wanted Miss Morelli to touch her there. She wanted Miss Morelli to smack her there. She wanted the pain, and she wanted an orgasm with it.
In a moment of clarity, Jem realised that she was on the brink of discovering something new and important about her sexuality. Something that, from the sound of him, Terence Headman would find very much to his taste. And something that could endanger her mission: if she was to succeed, she would have to remain distanced from Headman's sexual games. In that moment she vowed to suppress the newly discovered thrill of offering her body for punishment. If she could fool Headman into thinking she liked this sort of thing, she could twist him round her little finger. But if he were to find out she really liked it, she'd never be able to escape from him.
So, Jem promised herself, no more fun from spanking. At least, not after this time.
She arched her back downward, pushing her breasts into the tapestry and lifting her hips up from the cushion on Miss Morelli's thighs. She felt her bottom and her sex opening like a flower. 'Yes, Miss Morelli,' she said firmly.
Miss Morelli moved her left arm under Jem's raised stomach and placed her hand at the top of Jem's right thigh. Without further ado she started spanking Jem's bottom with hard, regular smacks that resounded loudly in the still room.
Miss Morelli was quick and methodical. She spanked in threes: three sharp smacks to the left buttock, three sharp smacks to the right buttock, and then a short pause during which the fingers of her left hand would stroke the line of Jem's sex-lips, or gently probe the area where Jem's clitoris Was vibrating with the qeed for release. And then more spanking, two sets of three smacks, concentrating on a slightly different area of Jem's buttocks. And then more touching. And so it went on.
Jem surrendered to the sensations, pushing her bottom up to meet Miss Morelli's stinging right hand and then writhing her hips helplessly as Miss Morelli's other hand teased her nearer and nearer to the edge of ecstasy. Each sharp slap, the sound ringing across the room, was a reminder of her submissive position, and also stoked the burning sensation that was spreading from her buttocks to inflame her vulva, her clitoris, and deep inside her loins.
Occasionally, resting between smacks, Miss Morelli would make an offhand remark such as 'Yes, the whole of your bottom is nicely red now,' or 'My goodness, you are sopping wet inside here, aren't you?' And Jem would momentarily surface from her maelstrom of sensations and picture herself from Miss Morelli's viewpoint: her
This can't be happening, Jem thought as she climbed awkwardly on to the couch. I must look really stupid. I'm just draping myself over this stuck-up bitch's lap and I'm going to let her spank me.
She closed her eyes. She could feel the texture of the tapestry upholstery against her elbows, her knees and, by moving forward slightly, her nipples. Her stomach was pressed against the velvet cushion. Her left thigh was touching Miss Morelli's skin, and was brushed by Miss Morelli's black lace top. She had been in this position before, of course, when playing games with boyfriends. But this was different: this was with a stranger, and a stranger who was a woman, too. This was about power, not sex. And yet in a strange way that made it all much sexier.
'Legs apart, girl.' Miss Morelli's hand suddenly slapped the back of Jem's left thigh. 'Let's have a good display.'
Jem found herself inching her knees across the upholstery. She knew that she was revealing her most intimate parts, but she couldn't help herself. Miss Morelli's fingernails stroked up and down the widening cleft between Jem 's buttocks, and circled her anus. Jem could feel her labia separating, and she knew that Miss Morelli couldn't fail to notice the shiny wetness that she could tell was almost dripping from her vulva. She wanted Miss Morelli to touch her there. She wanted Miss Morelli to smack her there. She wanted the pain, and she wanted an orgasm with it.
In a moment of clarity, Jem realised that she was on the brink of discovering something new and important about her sexuality. Something that, from the sound of him, Terence Headman would find very much to his taste. And something that could endanger her mission: if she was to succeed, she would have to remain distanced from Headman's sexual games. In that moment she vowed to suppress the newly discovered thrill of offering her body for punishment. If she could fool Headman into thinking she liked this sort of thing, she could twist him round her little finger. But if he were to find out she really liked it, she'd never be able to escape from him.
So, Jem promised herself, no more fun from spanking. At least, not after this time.
She arched her back downward, pushing her breasts into the tapestry and lifting her hips up from the cushion on Miss Morelli's thighs. She felt her bottom and her sex opening like a flower. 'Yes, Miss Morelli,' she said firmly.
Miss Morelli moved her left arm under Jem's raised stomach and placed her hand at the top of Jem's right thigh. Without further ado she started spanking Jem's bottom with hard, regular smacks that resounded loudly in the still room.
Miss Morelli was quick and methodical. She spanked in threes: three sharp smacks to the left buttock, three sharp smacks to the right buttock, and then a short pause during which the fingers of her left hand would stroke the line of Jem's sex-lips, or gently probe the area where Jem's clitoris Was vibrating with the qeed for release. And then more spanking, two sets of three smacks, concentrating on a slightly different area of Jem's buttocks. And then more touching. And so it went on.
Jem surrendered to the sensations, pushing her bottom up to meet Miss Morelli's stinging right hand and then writhing her hips helplessly as Miss Morelli's other hand teased her nearer and nearer to the edge of ecstasy. Each sharp slap, the sound ringing across the room, was a reminder of her submissive position, and also stoked the burning sensation that was spreading from her buttocks to inflame her vulva, her clitoris, and deep inside her loins.
Occasionally, resting between smacks, Miss Morelli would make an offhand remark such as 'Yes, the whole of your bottom is nicely red now,' or 'My goodness, you are sopping wet inside here, aren't you?' And Jem would momentarily surface from her maelstrom of sensations and picture herself from Miss Morelli's viewpoint: her
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