 |
|||
|
|
VII
Linda took the stairs two at a
time. When she reached the top, she stopped. She was panting and gasping as she
leaned back against the wall, she could barely stand. Fear and excitement had
tied her belly into knots and her legs trembled. She wished Steven was here
holding her hand, lending her his strength, his sweet voice reassuring her.
Then again, she thought, she might really want to feel his strong hand
somewhere else. Maybe leading her to a chair, draping her over his lap, his
hand raised and ready over her quivering backside. Perhaps she needed to hear
his stern voice, scolding her for being a silly prude, for hurting Susan, or
just for being a bad little girl. Linda shivered at the thought.
Then there was Roger, he’d just
told her to ‘go fetch us the hairbrush’, ordering her about like she was his to
command, and there was no denying that she’d jumped to obey him. He’d always
seemed such a perfect gentleman, now she knew that was all a sham.
God, he was terrifying! What he’d
done to Susan was just awful, yet Susan didn’t seem to care. If anything it
seemed to make her adore him all the more. It was all very confusing, but Linda
was sure of one thing. She knew she wanted it to be Steven, not Roger, who
dealt out her punishment.
Even as that thought crossed her
mind, Linda realized she really did want to be punished. No, maybe it wasn’t
that exactly, maybe what she wanted was to experience being punished. She was
sure she would hate the pain and the embarrassment; she was equally sure that
she deserved it. A small part of her might even crave it. Right there in front
of everyone, the humiliation and shame adding to her pain as she was forced to
present her bottom for a brisk paddling at the hands of her lover. The very
thought of it was making her hot. It made no sense but it was all too real. The
damp spot on her panties attested to that.
Linda pushed herself away from the
wall and headed down the hall on shaky legs. She found the bathroom with no
problem and there, sitting on the back of the vanity was a wooden hairbrush.
She stared at it for a long moment before reaching out to pick it up. Absently,
she plucked a few stray hairs from the bristles then turned it over. The
polished wood gleamed wickedly. Had Susan ever felt it on her bottom? The
handle was about six inches long smooth and rounded slightly to fit snugly in
ones hand. The back of the brush was oval, creating a smooth hard paddle some
eight inches long and maybe three inches wide at its widest point.
It was made of a dark polished
wood. It rested in her hand so naturally she could hardly think of how Steven
planned to use it. Linda looked at herself in the mirror, frightened, tearful,
half dressed, and holding a hairbrush at arm’s length as if it were some dangerous
animal intent on biting her.
Linda smiled at herself and shook
her head. She ran the brush through her hair for a few strokes, just to
reassure herself that life could be normal again and sometimes a hairbrush
would still be used for brushing hair.
Linda looked into the mirror once
more, rubbed a stray tear from her cheek and turned toward the door. It took
more courage than she felt she possessed to take that first step, the second
was easier. Before she knew it she was headed toward the staircase. She walked
with the slow deliberate pace of the condemned; the brush now held behind her
back, as she started down the stairs.
They all looked up at her when she
appeared at the top of the stairway and it was all she could do to keep going.
Linda’s eyes swept the group gathered at the base of the stairs looking for
Steven. He was standing between Richard and the kneeling Susan, out in the
center of the room. The men were both intent on their own conversation and
neither had looked up when she made her reappearance. Her legs were wobbly as
she descended those last few steps; she noticed someone had brought a
straight-back chair in from the dining room and set it down next to Steven.
Linda moved through the gathering
as if in a dream. She headed toward her husband with her eyes downcast and her
thumping pulse hammering in her ears, drowning out all other sound. The guests
parted and watched her pass. If any spoke to her, offering encouragement, or
maybe a warning, it was lost to her. Linda’s thoughts were elsewhere, she was
numb to what was happening around her. She startled when a hand grasped her arm
and pulled her to the right, toward the couch.
It was Roger! He’d wrenched her off
her path. He was dragging her away from Steven! She began to struggle until she
saw her husband was already next to her, holding her other arm, trying to pry
the wooden hairbrush from her clenched fingers. Linda took a deep breath and
released her grip. Roger was speaking but she didn’t want to hear him. It was
Steven’s voice she longed for.
“Lean forward darling and put your
hands down on the couch.”
Oh God, it was her husband, her
mild mannered Steven, and he was placing her in position for a humiliating and
very public ordeal. She bent forward taking her weight on her arms feeling more
vulnerable than she’d felt since her daddy had last used a wooden ruler on her
bottom when she was 10.
And then Roger was intruding again,
his voice forcing itself on her.
“You don’t need to do this Linda.”
What did he know about her needs?
This was between her and Steven, Roger had said so himself. It was something
that should have happened long ago, she knew that now. She was going to see
that it happened now and Roger would just have to deal with that. This was her
gift to Steven and whatever Roger felt he needed to say wasn’t going to affect
her one way or the other.
“Steven isn’t going to do anything
unless he knows you’re OK with it. You’ll need to say so. Say it now, Linda,
loud enough so we can all hear it. You know, there’s no shame in backing out;
everyone will understand. WE need to
know that you really want to do this or it isn’t going to happen.”
Linda clenched her eyes closed. The bastard was going to make her beg
for it. Well she’d show him. She was ready for this and nothing he said would
stop her. But raw courage wasn’t enough to stop her from blushing bright red.
Her voice quavered as she said the words.
“Please, Steven, take that hair
brush and use it on my bottom. If anyone deserves it, I do!”
There! She’d said it. No one would doubt
her courage now. She looked over her shoulder at Susan, who knelt silently with
her hands still on top of her head, her elbows jutting out to the sides. As
Linda watched, Susan’s lips formed a kiss which was silently sent across the
room. Linda didn’t dare to look at the others.
Linda turned back to the couch and leaned
forward willing her suddenly weak arms to support her leaning body. She
clenched her eyes shut. Someone grabbed her hips and her body jerked at the
touch. Her eyes snapped open and her head swung around to identify her
assailant. It was Steven, not Roger. She felt a moment of relief. She gazed at
Steven, marveling at the sudden transformation that had taken place in her
gentle patient husband. He was pulling her hips back forcing her head lower and
raising her bottom higher so it swayed obscenely toward the gawking spectators.
Her thoughts and feelings became
all the more confused as his hands wandered. She felt him gently stroke her
belly, her hips and her upper thighs. One hand began to rub in insistent little
circles over her taut ass cheeks, as if he were trying to smooth her panties.
Linda whimpered and her hips began to rotate in counterpoint to his motion.
Without warning two thumbs slipped
inside her waistband. Linda opened her mouth to protest but it was already too
late. Before she could utter a sound, her bottom was laid bare for all to see.
Steven pushed her panties down to her knees, and she desperately squeezed her
legs together trying to stop the descent.
“Open!”
Steven spoke the simple one word
command with an absolute authority that she never suspected her husband
possessed. Her legs responded, even before she could think. Her knees parted
and allowed her underwear to slip a little further down her legs. Linda quickly
stepped out of them. She understood what he wanted and obeyed without any
further instructions. Steven used the hairbrush to nudge her knees open a
little wider, and then ran the wooden brush up along her inner thighs. Linda
squirmed in place, bent at the waist, with her feet about two feet apart. Her
bottom was stuck up in the air and she could feel the cool air on her very damp
and exposed sex. Linda knew everyone in the room was staring at her most
private parts and her face turned a brighter shade of crimson.
“You probably want to start off
slow and easy Steven. Just let her warm up to the idea at first, then you can
let her feel it, if that’s what you want.”
It was Roger, that fountain of
unsolicited advice; Linda wished he would just shut up so Steven could get this
over with.
“Sure, thanks, this is pretty new
to us, but I think I can handle it. I’ll just position myself off to the side
so I can get a decent swing and everyone else will have a great view.”
Steven sounded as excited as a ten
year old on Christmas morning. She felt his left arm wrap around her waist. She
knew what was coming but had no idea how she’d react. She was already
mortified, just being exposed in this position, but things were about to get
far worse, and yet she was impatient for it to begin.
She flinched when Steven rested the
wooden brush on her quivering ass cheek. He stroked the cool wood across her
bottom in a circular motion and she gasped. Then the brush was pulled away and
she braced herself. The little paddle smacked down and her hips jerked, Steven
arm around her waist held her in place while the other rose and fell. He seemed
to be following Roger’s suggestion for each individual slap wasn’t terribly
painful but the cumulative effect was a slowly building burning that was
radiating heat in every direction. Linda’s face flushed deeply as she felt a pleasant warmth growing deep inside her. What kind of
woman would enjoy this?
Linda had yet to cry out in pain.
While Steven had her waist held in place, her bottom was waggling. He followed
a pattern spreading his blows around the periphery of her ass cheeks. She could
imagine the sight she provided and even with that thought she could feel her
sex lips thickening and opening. Moisture seeped from her parting lips and the
sight was not lost on the onlookers.
“Just like a couple of love birds.
Though I must say, it looks like Ms. ‘Prim and Proper’ is as big a slut as the
rest.” Erica offered loudly.
Linda was beyond caring, but the
jibe seemed to affect Steven. He started to hone in on the fleshier center of
her bottom slamming the hairbrush down with increased power and at last Linda
did cry out in pain. This was going well beyond pleasant warmth and plunging
into real punishment. Tears gathered and she yelped with each new blow but even
then the irrational warmth was still building deep in her sex. She was on fire
from within. Steven was slapping down on her bottom at a furious pace. It
seemed to mimic the tempo that he built to when he was plunging into her, just
before his orgasm. That image set her mind afire and the heat building deep in
her cunt began to surge. Her mind used
the “C” word, a word she had never used aloud before. It felt like the only
proper word to use and she allowed it to roll off her lips.
Steven was beating down on her
bottom in a rapid staccato and her yelps had turned into a most extraordinary
chant.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” she yelped each
time the hairbrush smacked down. It might have been an expression of pain or a
plea for release. Linda couldn’t say which, but it was another word she’d never
used until tonight.
It took Steven a moment to
understand what she was saying, and a few more moments to slow down from the
shellacking he was cheerfully administering to her glowing bottom.
Linda was just full of surprises
tonight.
Steven slowed and stopped and
Linda’s mantra came to an end. They both were breathless and a little stunned
by their separate reactions. Steven reversed his grip on the hairbrush and
traced her parted nether lips with the handle teasing them open still further.
Linda’s hips pressed back hungrily. Steven pulled the brush away and then used
it to tap lightly against her sex. Linda groaned and her bottom lurched back
trying to follow after the hairbrush. Steven gave her a few more experimental
swats and her hips jerked and twitched, but she was definitely trying to rub
herself against the handle. She was quickly approaching a shuddering and very
public orgasm. Steven pulled the hairbrush away and Linda groaned.
Linda’s legs were trembling as her
hips humped back at the empty air as she cried out in frustration. She was
oblivious to what the others were saying. Erica harshly mocked her discarded
dignity while the others were joking and teasing in a more good-natured manner.
Roger was grinning, but refrained from the general teasing. Susan, on her
knees, remained silent, grateful, perhaps to be out of the spotlight for now.
Steven was shocked by Linda’s
obvious loss of control. She was not behaving at all like the wife he knew so
well. Linda could tell by his painful grip on her shoulder that he had every
intention of bringing her back under control. He dropped down onto the couch
and roughly pulled her across his lap.
“Now I’m gonna
really punish you, just like you asked for.” He warned her.
Linda’s breath was forced out in a
whoosh as she landed across his legs. Her head and shoulders fell to his left,
her legs dangling off to his right. He gathered her wrists together in his left
hand and forced them down against the small of her back as she fought to
inhale. Her neck and shoulders were pressed awkwardly against the couch and her
breasts were trapped just past his left leg. Linda struggled to turn her head
and managed to face away from the onlookers, toward the back of the couch. She
was surprised to find that Steven had discarded the hair brush which now lay on the couch the bristles sticking up mere inches from
her nose.
She felt trapped; it was all she
could do to keep her legs still. Steven rubbed his hand across her smarting
bottom feeling the warmth he had generated from her paddling. Some of the warm
sensuality was returning to her. Linda tried to remain still. She could feel
his hardness pressing eagerly against her belly. Her hips were resting a few
inches from his solid right thigh and the touch of his hand was making her
squirm forward. Linda flinched when he pulled his hand away.
“You ready?” he barked a fraction
of a second before his hand smacked down heavily on her already bruised bottom.
The sound was enormous! His hand was larger than the hairbrush, and she sensed
an unreasoned anger that propelled him.
Linda cried out with the first
blow. Her body lurched forward across his lap. He used his knees to rock her
back into place and the next slap landed squarely on her curved cheeks. Steven
was attacking her bottom with a firm purpose and it had nothing to do with
sensual warmth. Linda shrieked as his knees rocked her back for the third
smack. All thoughts of sexual release fled as the pain just grew and grew.
He continued without mercy. Her
body was driven forward by his smacking hand then rocked back into place on his
knees. The spanking continued at a barely controlled pace. It was much worse
than what had happened before. Steven was deliberately trying to hurt her! The
blows continued to rain down and neither of them was keeping track.
Heat was building within her. It
wasn’t sexual; it was much more primal than that. The shrieks built with her pain
until she could stand it no more. Something let go deep within her and she
experienced a very different form of release. Linda began to cry
uncontrollably.
Steven knew, almost instinctively,
that they had reached a plateau. He stopped slapping and once more was gently
rubbing her bottom. Linda let all her emotions pour out as she sobbed without
restraint. The others, forgotten by them both, looked on in silent awe.
Steven turned her over in his lap.
He could feel the heat from her bottom through his pants. He cradled her in his
arms pulling her tight against his chest and rocking gently while she sobbed on
his shoulder. Eventually the racking sobs lessened. Linda pushed back slightly;
she turned to face him blinking back tears, and shyly kiss her husband’s lips.
Then they were both hungrily kissing each other without thought or hesitation.
Steven was the first to come up for air.
He stood, half lifting her, but
Linda deliberately fell to her knees beside him. Steven turned toward Roger,
unsure of what to say. Linda said it for him.
She held Steven’s hand as she looked
into Roger’s eyes. A communion of understanding passed between them.
“Please sir.” were all the words
she needed.
Roger understood completely.
“The guest room is upstairs, all
the way down the hall.”
Once again Linda took the stairs
two at a time. This time Steven followed eagerly behind her.
|
|
|