Read Online THE STRICT BRITISH BARRISTER: ACT ONE by Maggie Carpenter - Free Book Online Page B

that had washed through her sex; her pussy had never felt so alive.
    She was aching for him, she was aching to feel his cock slice through her, aching to feel his lips on her breasts, and aching to hear his hot, sensual whispers.
    Sighing heavily, wondering for how long she’d have to stay kneeling, her mind wandered to the mischievous devil who lived inside her. The imp had been with her for as long as she could remember, pushing her forward into foolishness, and filling her with doubt when facing change.
    She would stare at the ceiling at night, imagining the thrill of opening a recycled high-end clothing store in a big shopping center somewhere, but the voice of her devil would fill her with trepidation.
    Why, why do you plague me? Why do you have such power over me?
    Her knees were hurting, and she shuffled, attempting to find a more comfortable position, but the sound of his returning footfalls broke into her distressing thoughts, and caused her to settle.
    “Brittany, do you have anything to say?” he asked, touching her shoulder.
    She gasped, not from surprise, she had heard his approach, but from the shard of sexual energy that danced from his fingertips.
    “Yes, Sir, I have many things to say,” she said softly, “and something to ask.”
    “What’s your question?”
    “How much longer do I have to stay here?”
    Once again, Brittany Carter had succeeded in shocking him.
    Good heavens, even after all this you still question me? Your fortitude and determined mind are extraordinary.
    Leaning forward he placed his lips at her ear.
    “After everything you’ve just endured, surely you know the answer to that, and what do you think it is?”
    “Uh, sorry, Sir, as long as you think necessary,” she sighed.
    “Yes, as long as I think necessary, and how do you think I feel about that question?”
    “Inappropriate, Sir,” she sighed again.
    “Inappropriate and impertinent,” he said firmly. “You’re just learning, so I will give you some latitude, but not much, because while you are foolish, Brittany, you’re not stupid, and that was a stupid question. Would you agree?”
    “Yes, Sir, thinking about it…yes, I see it was.”
    “As I said, I do allow some latitude in the early stages of training, so I will not make you kneel any further as punishment, but there must be some consequence. That consequence will come at dinner, assuming you wish to continue with me.”
    “I do, Sir,” she nodded fervently, though I really am wondering why I want to so badly. My ass is stinging like mad and my knees feel like they’re going to give way any minute, and yet I want-
    “Spread your legs,” he ordered.
    The instruction took her by surprise, and sliding them slowly apart, not wanting to suffer carpet burns on top of everything else, she held her breath.
    Oh, touch me, please, please touch me.
    “I know what you want. I know you are praying that I will slide my fingers between your legs and tickle your wetness. All I am doing at this moment is putting you in touch with that need,” he said softly.
    “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, “you’re right, I am aching for you to do that, I am aching for you…positively aching…”
    “You will have to wait. You are to return to your cabin where you will immediately strip, then sit on your sore bottom and write me a letter,” he instructed. “In it you will tell me all the thoughts that went through your head while I was spanking you, and again while you’ve been kneeling. I’m not concerned about spelling or grammar, I am only concerned with raw honesty. Don’t leave anything out, not anything. I’ll know if you do.”
    “Yes, Sir,” she murmured, “I won’t, I’ll write everything down, everything that I thought and felt.”
    “When you’re finished you’ll bring the paper back here and slip it under my door, then return to your bedroom to nap, but you are not to touch yourself. I will expect your arrival back here at precisely 7 p.m., dressed