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Inside the hotel room, Janice quickly appraised the
setting, seeing the same aging damask at the windows, the dark
woodwork at the doors and window sills, the bedspread draped
over a nicked four poster bed, a frayed but clean appearing
burgundy. In the corner of the room stood several pieces of
professional camera equipment, including an array of lights, as
yet unlit. The video camera was mounted on a tripod aimed at
the end of the bed. Janice could only imagine. Just as her
nervousness was beginning to ease, the spotlights were suddenly
turned-on, the glare of them momentarily blinding her.
Seeing Louis’s face appearing out of that brilliance, she
cringed. In her loins there was intense desire, but her heart
was beating rapidly. Unaccustomed to fear in such quantity, she
almost fled the room until Louis’s expression warmed, and he
came to her reaching out a hand to take hers.
“Relax, my naughty brat,” he said. His hand on hers was
firm, intended to make certain that she didn’t act on her
apprehensions. “You’re here to take your punishment, and there
will be no walking away from it.”
“I never walk away from a spanking,” she retorted, trying
to let go her fears. “But you are going to blind-fold me?” she
asked. She remembered their discussion at the party.
“Is that really necessary?”
Too enthralled by the man to protest, she shook her head,
no, but by that time it was really too late. Behind her she
heard the whir of the camera and jerked about to see that Dak
had begun taping the session.
“You’ve already started . . .”
“Yes, Mrs. Archer, it has begun.”
“I wish you wouldn’t call me Mrs. Archer,” she blurted
out. The formality seemed so absurd.
Louis only raised his eyebrows to her exclamation, then
proceeded to lead her toward the bed. Sitting down, he looked
up into her eyes.
“Suppose you tell me what you gain from sessions like
these?” he asked. His tone was serious and not playful at all.
Under normal conditions, Janice might have had lots to
say, but knowing that a camera was trained on her every move,
she was uncharacteristically tongue-tied. Her stomach bound up
in knots; she had no idea if she was going to survive this
afternoon.
“That’s hard to say . . .” she started.
“Is it penance?” he tried for her. “Corporal Punishment
for the recalcitrant wife? You betray your marriage vows so
easily, perhaps the method in your schemes gets you sexual
satisfaction and punishment at the same time. Is that how it
works?”
That sounded like a reasonable explanation, but Janice
wasn’t about to admit it. “I don’t know how it works,” she
replied all too saucily. “I just know it does.”
“I do know one thing, Mrs. Archer, you will be spanked
for your infidelity.”
He was severe in the delivery, his tone of voice
containing an earthy quality that held her enthralled with its
visceral power. Finding herself so fascinated by the mystery of
the man she completely forgot the whirring camera and the fact
that there was another man in the room. Going over Louis’s lap,
every bone in her body shook with fear while her sexual fires
ignited with a bright burst of heat. Having dressed
appropriately for the occasion, her bottom was bared with a
quick flick of Louis’s wrist that sent her dress flying up over
her derriere. A cool blast of air hit her skin, but that
sensation lasted only a few seconds. Replacing the cool was a
warmth that turned to flames as Louis pelted her behind with a
merciless wooden paddle.
“Oh, my god, noooooo!” she began to roar when the
paddle’s sting turned to pain.
Louis didn’t like her plea, and answered her with more
vile smacks, each one landing fiercely over the top of the last
until she was squirming mightily to get away. But with arms and
hands as muscular as Dak’s, the Dominant easily restrained her.
She had no choice but to bear the attack, although she didn’t do
so gracefully. Crying loudly, she made every effort to end her
travail, but “safe” words, rude gyrations and out and out
bellows didn’t change Louis’s determination.
“There, my dear, that should do for warming you up,”
Louis suddenly announced, pushing her from his lap. Aghast that
it had ended so abruptly, Janice stumbled to her feet looking
back at the man, dumbfound.
“There’s more?” she questioned.
“Why of course,” he answered. He pointed to the bed.
“Your ass toward me.”
“But, I just don’t . . .”
“What you don’t do is protest. You’ll soon find with me
that that’s a dangerous thing to do.”
“But . . .” her response was weak seeing the utter
ruthlessness of his flaring eyes.
“On the bed. Whether your husband gets wind of this or
not, you will get your due for having violated your covenant
with him. Of course, if you want to be difficult about it, we
could just invite him in to view your punishment.”
“Oh, no please, he wouldn’t understand.”
“That’s exactly what I thought,” Louis replied.
He pointed again to the spot where he’d have her crawl
before him submissively. And while he waited for her to comply,
he turned around and rifled through his bag looking for the next
implement he’d use on her ass. “Do I have to forcefully make
you submit,” Louis asked when he turned back. He held a two
foot long leather strap in his hand. She shuddered seeing the
formidable instrument.
“No, no, not at all,” Janice replied scampering to the
end of the bed, her bare red bottom waving in the air. Now
considerably cooled, she was actually looking forward to the
treatment that followed. This intense war she was having with
Louis had all the trappings of a real life donnybrook—the kind
she so often dreamed about but had never experienced. The only
difference was that it was a made-up war, part of the spanking
drama the man was enacting for the camera.
As much as Janice looked forward to another round of spanking,
she instantly changed her mind when the strap began to fly.
With a brisk, firm stroke, Louis took up where he left off,
delivering a steady stream of first exhilarating, and then
wildly burning smacks.
Janice was protesting with a hearty wail that no doubt
reached far outside the walls of the room. At that point, she
was beyond caring. It was hard enough to maintain the position
on hands and knees, knowing if she were to suddenly collapse,
she’d only feel more wrath vented on her aching behind.
“I’m afraid you’ve been quite the slut, Mrs. Archer.
Perhaps after this correction, you’ll behave yourself.”
“Yes, yes of course!” she replied.
The punishment continued, another dozen smacks before
Louis spoke again.
“You’ll be getting all you deserve today, my dear, and
then some. You’ll see to what ends your tawdry behavior has
brought you.”
As though he was actually punishing her for some crime
Louis justified the savage spanking. The lecture that followed
almost got to that guilty spot inside her where she felt truly
ashamed of her adulterous behavior. When the spanking finally
stopped, she slumped in a heap on the bed, feeling the cool
surface a welcome balm for her scorched skin. Unfortunately
however, Louis was still not finished.
“Get on your knees, wench!” he snapped. His voice cut
the air sharply as did a wicked looking bamboo cane he now held
his mighty grasp. The cane hit the bed beside her, Janice
looking scared half out of her wits.
“Oh, my god noooooo,” she roared. This was getting way
beyond her ability to control.
“On your knees,” he said evenly, a degree of righteous
anger rising to the surface. He held the cane in his fist, a
menacing gleam in his eye as he waited.
Though she wished with all her might that she could avoid
the caning, she felt doomed to this fate. Knowing that there
was little she could do, she once more took up the required
pose, although this time, her rear cheeks were clenched tight,
making what could be soft and cushiony flesh, hard as nails.
Noticing the tension in Janice’s ass, Louis reached out a
hand and began massaging the flaming buttocks. Though his grip
on her was harsh, she was nonetheless aroused by the seemingly
affectionate gesture, and her sore flesh began to relax.
Forgetting what Louis was really about she was taken off guard
when the Dominant suddenly pulled back and laid three sharp
snapping cuts of the bamboo against the center of her desiring
rear mounds.
“Yeeeeawwww!” She collapsed against the bed and turned
over. “Oh god, I can’t, please no!”
“Just three more, my dear, unless of course you’d like me
to double the count?” There was not even the faintest flicker
in the fixed eyes that bore into her. She saw the truth in his
warning, even as the sting of the three cuts still made her
bottom burn hot. Reluctantly, she one last time climbed to her
hands and knees to receive the cane. Gritting her teeth, her
jaw fixed, her hands clenched, she waited.
Swish! The bamboo struck like a bolt of lightening. A
pause, and it struck again. With each cut she cried out, though
there was some comfort in knowing these strikes were numbered.
There was just the last she had to endure. Swish! The horrid rod
came down for the last time, producing from the recalcitrant
submissive a nasty wail that lifted her woeful cry into the air
for anyone within the hotel to hear.
Thinking she was finished with this debacle, Janice was
about to rise from her humbled position when Louis revealed his
further plans. Behind her quickly, he massaged the painful skin,
and began probing deep inside her cleft. “You say you want it
sexual? I think it’s time we gave you that gift.”
There was a splash of some cold liquid traveling down her
behind, and then fingers prodding their way inside both holes.
Her instincts told her which one would see the most action that
day. For all the times she’d protested anal sex in the past,
she realized the protests were just a cover for the greater
desire. As his hands played with the tight rear place, she felt
herself relax and open to the penetration. When his erection
entered her there, she cried, but it was in no way as agonized
as the cries from the cuts of the cane. This violation was
somewhere in that magical place between pain and ultimate
happiness. The taking of her ass went on for sometime, Louis
not at all in a hurry to complete this ending. And when he was
finally satisfied by her dark channel, Dak exchanged places with
him and began the same kind of hard pounding attack that led to
his own climax.
Limp afterwards, Janice collapsed one last time to the
comforting cushion of the old bed. Unlike before, this time,
there was no effort made to rouse her, suggesting that the
session was now complete. While she recuperated, she drifted
for a little while, aware only that the whir of the camera had
ended and the two men were dismantling the equipment. For a
moment she imagined herself being left. Like used goods. These
brutish men would take off with the images of her bared, caned
and thoroughly screwed behind locked inside their video tape,
images that would end up for sale on some sexual black-market,
and very likely the Internet.
Janice wanted not to care. In a way the whole ordeal was
feeling like heaven now in the aftermath; but reality creeping
in around her, she realized what a horribly compromising
position she was in. The whole adventure had been a mistake, she
was sure of that. If there was only some way she could undo the
shameful fact, but that appeared impossible with these two in
command.
“Louis,” she called to him with a meek voice.
“My dear?” He turned around from his task and looked at
her.
“You’re not really going to sell the video?” she asked.
“Sell it? I doubt that.” He smiled. “Here, you want
it?”
She was bewildered, seeing the video thrown next to her
on the bed.
“Wasn’t I good enough?” she wondered aloud.
He laughed. “That’s what you’re worried about?”
“Well, no. I’m not happy that you’d do this. I mean I
didn’t really consent…”
“Oh, you consented all right. But I won’t take advantage
of you.”
“But, if you didn’t want the video for yourself, what was
it for?” She was baffled by the odd turn of events.
“To lend an element of truth to our fantasy,” he stated
simply.
That she understood. Clasping the video case in her
hands, she looked up at the two men and smiled. “You do all
this for just a sexual lark?”
“Oh, believe me, we’re getting all the satisfaction we
want,” Louis assured her.
“Didn’t I tell you, I could be very creative?” Dak added.
With the equipment packed, the two men were ready to
leave.
“The room’s rented for the night if you’d like to stay,”
Louis told her.
“So that’s all?” she asked.
“I think you’ve had enough.” His smile was almost kind.
“You’d better look at that ass of yours before you leave. Might
want to keep it under wraps with your old man around.”
Janice felt her sore behind, finding that she could trace
the cane lines on it with her fingers.
“Perhaps we should meet together again soon?” Louis
suggested, just as he was at the door.
“Yes, perhaps we should,” she agreed from her lounging
position on the burgundy comforter. Giving them a brief wave
they left her to her own devices.
Not wasting any time, Janice leapt out of the bed so she
could view her bottom in the mirror. Just as she suspected,
there were stripes on her ass, four of them that she could
distinctly make out and another two faint ones below. Running
her fingers over one raised red welt, she quaked inside knowing
how this had embedded in her skin. She was only a few brisk
manipulations away from a rip-roaring climax, something she was
determined to take care of before she left the hotel.
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Prodigal Wives by Lizbeth Dusseau
Reviewed by Lancelot Knight, Copyright (c) 2005
Prolific writer
Lizbeth Dusseau has brought together three novellas of the spanking
genre.
The common
thread in these novellas is a wayward wife who engages in extramarital
affairs. In two of the cases, the wife has a yearning for a good
spanking, but her husband is unaware of the “special” needs of his
wife. But as they say in the spanking field, “All wells that ends
well.”
These stories
very definitely are a part of the romance genre, as well as focusing on
spanking, and as such these will, I think, appeal especially to women.
But that doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of lush bottoms to be turned
pink, then red for the men to fantasize about.
As always,
Dusseau’s special concern is with the relationships of couples, their
dynamics and tensions and needs and wants. The spanking scenes, of
which there is a variety, always fit into the context of the story, and
they are never gratuitous.
The last of the
three novellas, “Another Kind of Submission” is especially interesting
in that it deals with the issue of how a woman can, at once, be
subservient to a dominant, how she can revel in the kinky aspects of
spanking as a sexual spark, and yet remain her own person, an individual
with self-esteem, self-respect and her own ideas.
For those with
a fondness for the punishment of bare bottoms, this book will more than
satisfy your craving.
Reviewed by
Lancelot Knight
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