such a possible escape.
“Amber.” Just her name, delivered in a sober, somber tone that had her reconsidering more than her physical position. “I would suggest that you endeavor never to lie to me again, because I will know it, and the next time you do it, my response won’t be so soft on you.” That was soft? She thought, wishing with all her heart that she could reach back and rub her bum; even just one gentle swipe would help. But she knew better than to think that that was going to happen.
“So that is what you will call me,” Piers decreed, applying several vicious swats to the vulnerable under curve of her bottom, which was extremely accessible this way. “Is that understood?”
Amber could barely reply. It was as if she had a choice when she opened her mouth – she could either wail or scream, but she wasn’t at all sure she could control either enough to answer him coherently. And that only resulted in another round of swats to the exact same two tender spots as before.
Finally, at the end of a barely suppressed sob, she was able to say, “Yes!” before he began again.
To her utter dismay, that didn’t end the intolerable cracking against the wobbly baby flesh of the tender underside of her cheeks. “Yes, what, Amber?” he asked, obviously unhappy at having to prompt her.
But she was that far gone so as to be unable to remember that she should have ended her response by addressing him in the manner he was just requesting. “Yes, my Lord,” she breathed, collapsing over his lap, not bothering to worry about whether or not her head was concussed against the floor. Amber would have sworn she could hear the sizzling of her own flesh.
“Good. Now we can get on with your punishment for not obeying me immediately when I held my hand out to you.”
Despite the unfavorable comparisons she would have made within her own head between herself and the mousy Josette, she would have wailed at that pronouncement, but he didn’t give her a chance. Instead, he pulled her back up with one easy movement, then had her on her back on the edge of the bed, stripped naked before she could lodge a protest, with her legs held well back over her midsection, as if he was going to put a nappy on her rather than punish her.
But she was very wrong about that. He definitely punished her, and she knew, from the first stroke, that she never wanted him to put her in this position again.
Piers used his own weight to keep her legs well back, which exposed her bottom to his seeking palm, but it also exposed other, even more vulnerable and sensitive areas to that punitive hand, and he wasn’t being particularly careful as to exactly where it landed. Indeed, it seemed as if he was deliberately targeting her more sensitive areas at times, although it wasn’t as if he neglected her rump, either.
When he finally stopped, he informed her that she was wearing the brand of his hand in various degrees of carmine red all over her backside, which was exactly what she could expect –
and worse – if she didn’t obey him instantly.
“Tomorrow morning, we’ll talk about some new rules for you.” As he spoke, he arranged her, as if she was some tableau he was setting up to paint.
Amber didn’t like the sound of that, but she wisely held her tongue. She would have thought that, with her elevated position as wife and countess, that she would have fewer rules, rather than more. Apparently her husband didn’t agree.
And she didn’t think she was very excited about the idea of finding out exactly what those rules might be. She was very afraid that they were going to curb the majority of the freedoms she currently enjoyed.
When he’d finished, she was lying on her back in the middle of the fur covers, completely naked. He had arranged some furs under each leg, and then cocked each to the side, so that they were spread but supported and, he hoped, relatively comfortable. Amber was mortified by this position, but knew that if she
“Amber.” Just her name, delivered in a sober, somber tone that had her reconsidering more than her physical position. “I would suggest that you endeavor never to lie to me again, because I will know it, and the next time you do it, my response won’t be so soft on you.” That was soft? She thought, wishing with all her heart that she could reach back and rub her bum; even just one gentle swipe would help. But she knew better than to think that that was going to happen.
“So that is what you will call me,” Piers decreed, applying several vicious swats to the vulnerable under curve of her bottom, which was extremely accessible this way. “Is that understood?”
Amber could barely reply. It was as if she had a choice when she opened her mouth – she could either wail or scream, but she wasn’t at all sure she could control either enough to answer him coherently. And that only resulted in another round of swats to the exact same two tender spots as before.
Finally, at the end of a barely suppressed sob, she was able to say, “Yes!” before he began again.
To her utter dismay, that didn’t end the intolerable cracking against the wobbly baby flesh of the tender underside of her cheeks. “Yes, what, Amber?” he asked, obviously unhappy at having to prompt her.
But she was that far gone so as to be unable to remember that she should have ended her response by addressing him in the manner he was just requesting. “Yes, my Lord,” she breathed, collapsing over his lap, not bothering to worry about whether or not her head was concussed against the floor. Amber would have sworn she could hear the sizzling of her own flesh.
“Good. Now we can get on with your punishment for not obeying me immediately when I held my hand out to you.”
Despite the unfavorable comparisons she would have made within her own head between herself and the mousy Josette, she would have wailed at that pronouncement, but he didn’t give her a chance. Instead, he pulled her back up with one easy movement, then had her on her back on the edge of the bed, stripped naked before she could lodge a protest, with her legs held well back over her midsection, as if he was going to put a nappy on her rather than punish her.
But she was very wrong about that. He definitely punished her, and she knew, from the first stroke, that she never wanted him to put her in this position again.
Piers used his own weight to keep her legs well back, which exposed her bottom to his seeking palm, but it also exposed other, even more vulnerable and sensitive areas to that punitive hand, and he wasn’t being particularly careful as to exactly where it landed. Indeed, it seemed as if he was deliberately targeting her more sensitive areas at times, although it wasn’t as if he neglected her rump, either.
When he finally stopped, he informed her that she was wearing the brand of his hand in various degrees of carmine red all over her backside, which was exactly what she could expect –
and worse – if she didn’t obey him instantly.
“Tomorrow morning, we’ll talk about some new rules for you.” As he spoke, he arranged her, as if she was some tableau he was setting up to paint.
Amber didn’t like the sound of that, but she wisely held her tongue. She would have thought that, with her elevated position as wife and countess, that she would have fewer rules, rather than more. Apparently her husband didn’t agree.
And she didn’t think she was very excited about the idea of finding out exactly what those rules might be. She was very afraid that they were going to curb the majority of the freedoms she currently enjoyed.
When he’d finished, she was lying on her back in the middle of the fur covers, completely naked. He had arranged some furs under each leg, and then cocked each to the side, so that they were spread but supported and, he hoped, relatively comfortable. Amber was mortified by this position, but knew that if she
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