Getting
Things Straight Lizbeth
Dusseau
(c)
2001, all rights reserved
Excerpt from:
Birches, Paperback
Birches, Ebook
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While Midge went to the kitchen for a
couple of beers, Hank strolled about her living room looking at
the many pictures on the walls.
"You take these?" he asked.
"Yes. Photography is sort of a
hobby." There were dozens of the horses at the Birch Valley
Stables, and others of the country landscape, and several
she’d taken in the desert near Sedona on vacation a year ago.
"You’ve got quite a knack for
capturing shadows and form."
"Thanks. I entered one in a local
contest last year and won first prize. I have a few others ready
for the Country Fair."
He nodded a bit respectfully, but then
his eyes seemed to go from dark to darker still. It was
difficult to tell what might be the cause of that, though she
didn’t have to wait long to find out. "Well, young lady,
seems we need to get a few things straight."
"Oh!" She plopped down in her
favorite chair. "Why don’t you sit down, we can talk.
What is it that needs to get straight?"
It was as good thing she was sitting,
the way her eager body was turning to jelly. She was certain
that her legs wouldn’t hold her upright.
"You’re so primed for a
spanking, Midge McKenna, it’s hard to know where to begin. Not
only have you given me ample reason to take you over my lap,
you’ve practically asked for it."
She winced a little, recalling the long
conversation in the bar about her unruly life.
"You wouldn’t punish me for what
I told you tonight, would you?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes.
Because I think that’s exactly what you want. You wouldn’t
have told me about Reno, and drugs and cigarettes if you
hadn’t wanted me to notice."
She hardly knew how to reply.
"What you really need is a good
man to take charge of you since you obviously have a wildness in
you as wide as a river. You want it tamed, trimmed and handled.
If the man you want is me, however, some things are going to
change. Honestly, I’m not sure it’s what you want."
"Oh, but I think it is," she
jumped right in.
"You think so?"
"I do, Hank. How much more do I
have to hint around?"
He chuckled, but then broke that off,
"Come here."
She looked at him surprised.
"There? Now?"
"That’s what I said."
She smiled warily. Things were
happening fast and her mind was still a little muddy from the
beer. Finally, taking a long drink, she hopped up and padded to
his side—beer bottle still clutched inside her palm.
Hank looked up at her, gingerly
plucking the glass bottle out of her fingers. "You’ve had
enough. Now go get your hairbrush."
Ooo, this was getting exciting. She
practically giggled as she moved into her bedroom. With a quick
perusal of her dresser, she tried to steer clear of the
flat-backed hairbrush lying there, thinking there might be a
less ominous one that would do just as well; but in the end, she
grabbed for the thing and returned to Hank’s side, her bottom
already starting to crawl with fire from the impending sting.
Biting her lip like a naughty child, she waited for him to make
the next move.
"I wouldn’t be so thrilled if I
were you. This is going to hurt."
Of course it would. She expected that.
After all, when he spanked her over top of her blue jeans it
hurt. But that didn’t matter, it couldn’t matter. There was
nothing she wanted more than this.
"Remember, Midge, this is just a
start. I’m not an easy man to love. I’m hard to please, I
don’t compromise, and I expect obedience. If I don’t get it,
you get this." He waved the brush in front of her. "Is
that clear?"
"Absolutely." She was so
mesmerized, she could see, feel, hear and taste nothing but raw
lust.
"We’ll see," was all he
said. He seemed to have a lot more on his mind to say, but he
stopped his brief lecture there, and swiftly pulled Midge over
his muscled thighs.
The expectant young woman almost sighed
with relief as she settled in on the awesome warmth she found
there. As he raised her short skirt, she shuddered more. Hank
took his time; and the anticipation of the first strike was only
compounded by the lengthy prelude. Her belly, thighs and crotch
were bursting with erotic heat. And her cunt spasmed as he
gently reached for the top of her pale blue panties and pulled
them over her hips. One of his fingers caught the crack of her
ass teasingly and she squirmed in a tiny fit. Once the panties
were completely off, she knew the first smack would land soon,
and looked around hoping she could anticipate the strike.
After all his careful preparations,
Hank gave her just a second to panic. The first strike came with
a thundering jolt—her skin instantly stinging as little rivers
of pain seemed to flow outward from the center of her cheek
where it landed. Delivering the second strike, Hank made this
one just as harsh on the other cheek, and Midge heard herself
gasp from the horror of the pain.
"Oh, my!"
"If you thought this was going to
be erotic, my dear, I’m afraid you’re mistaken." Having
said that, Hank took up a brisk, peppering rhythm; with the
staccato sound of the hairbrush on skin providing an awesome
accompaniment to her sad cries. The cadence of strikes moved
about her sizable ass, the flesh jiggling, turning red, with her
cheeks quickly looking like one glowing crimson blush of fire.
"Oh, my," her thoughts
repeated as often as the hairbrush landed. And in time, the
spanking became more anguished as the smacks continued at their
brisk clip. There was no letting up, not even a brief pause, no
matter how much she struggled, or cried woefully into the
energized air about them. "Hank, no, please." Crack!
"No, no, no more."
He went on despite her anxious plea.
Though when he began to speak, the fierce delivery eased
somewhat so she could hear what he had to say, and would be calm
enough to understand his message. "You’ve been
out-of-control, Ms. MeKenna. If you have any idea of romance
with me, you’re recklessness will stop. Is that clear?"
"Yes," she cried.
"‘Yes, sir,’ will do when
you’re being punished!" he snapped.
"Yes, sir," she responded
instantly.
"You’ll obey me, or there will
be no relationship. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir."
Her bottom was so scalded, Midge
didn’t think she could take another strike, but Hank was not
yet done. For a time, the hairbrush drifted downward, hitting
the top of her thighs where that tender skin was even more
sensitive to pain than the padded flesh of her ass.
"Oh, no, no, that hurts," she
screamed. "Please stop!" Two especially hard cracks
thundered on each cheek—first the left then the right. "Yeeeeeouch!"
They signaled the beginning of the end, but Hank was not quite
finished. Not until he’d covered her bottom in quick a rash of
hits. The force was eased and the sting less biting, though as
with every other strike of wood, these only increased the
awesome burn.
Once the spanking ended, it took some
seconds for Midge to grasp that Hank was finished. Certain that
another strike was about to hit, her cheeks remained clenched,
fearful of another round of pain. But as the seconds ticked by,
she realized he was done. Having laid the hairbrush on the table
beside him, he now rested the palm of his hand on her molten
behind. As the warmth spread, the pain declined; and a rapturous
feeling of sexual arousal took its place. As he massaged the
punished cheeks, her desire began to rise wildly. Soon, she was
squirming fitfully on his lap, unsure exactly how she should
respond—what he actually wanted from her. His hand drifted
downward to her thighs—they, too, filled with sexual
sensations. When he moved deeper into the cleft of her ass, she
felt his fingers first toy with the juicy portal, and then
dampened, slip higher finding her rear entrance.
"Oh, my no," she purred in
amazement. It was not a protest, but an acknowledgement that
she’d never been played with there. And yet, her thighs opened
without her realizing. As the stimulation increased, her
physical response heightened. "Ah, yessssss," she
finally emitted a sigh of pleasure. Though, when Hank pressing
two fingers, moved beyond the tight ring of her sphincter, she
froze with her body tensing anxiously.
"Relax, Midge. Your body is mine.
If I want you here I’ll take you here."
"Yes, sir," she answered
softly as her inner muscles began to ease. He pressed his
fingers more deeply with her bucking hips giving away the truth
about her physical desire.
"I’ll take you any way I choose,
is that understood?" He spoke tenderly, but with authority.
This was not something on which he would bend.
"Yes, sir," she repeated her
response knowing that the answers to his questions and her reply
to his play were crucial to her future with him. She would never
have imagined herself becoming this yielding—even to Hank
Devlin. Her fantasies were child-play compared with the reality
of what he required. And yet, she was sure that she was passing
his examination. Regardless of the depth to which he’d taken
her, there was nothing that she wanted more than this surrender.
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