Under the Lash by Carolyn Faulkner

she had learned that he expected and answer, too.
    “I– I’m s–sorry, Sir!” she moaned, her bottom dancing violently as far back and forth as his hold on her allowed, which wasn’t much. Certainly not enough to give her any relief from the smacking of that strict implement down on flesh that was always in a constant state of real discomfort – especially since the last time he had chastised her he had used that awful quirt, and she could feel how the oval head of that brush rained splotch after stinging splotch of fire down over the ridges that still remained from her first taste of the lash.
    “Sorry won’t keep you from getting your hide tanned just like you are now, young lady. Strict obedience is your only hope to avoid some of the spankings you’re receiving with alarming regularity. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”
    She had heard that expression recently – and she remembered exactly where with an agonized shout. Her stepfather had used exactly that phrase when she had interrupted him disciplining her mother in much the same way she was now being punished!

Chapter Seven
     
     
    Fairly wailing now, from the mental anguish of what she’d just remembered as well as the physical agony of having her rear end seared by that brush, Cassie began to cry even more uncontrollably than she had before.
    At that, Anjel placed the brush back on his dresser, close at hand, then turned her back over and rearranged her legs, eagerly reclaiming his position on his knees before her. There was very little more that he enjoyed about making love to a woman than reveling in the true taste of her. Some women demurred and declined – for what reasons he would never understand. But Cassie had no choice in the matter, and he applied himself to the font of her pleasure with somewhat less than delicate greed.
    As much as she wanted to be able to simply stop responding to him, and as hard as she had tried to do just that, she could not achieve her goal. Even in the deep despair she was feeling right, he always managed to push past her resistance to an even greater height than he had ever brought her to before. Somehow he knew her and her responses to him frighteningly well, and there was absolutely no way that Cassie could ignore his actions. Those firm, soft lips captured the heart of her womanhood and held it there, drenched in his heat and lovingly laved over and over again by that broad, flat tongue of his.
    Or worse, even, flicked endlessly around and over that tasty morsel, as he adjusted his technique to the verbal and nonverbal cues he didn’t even think she realized she was betraying to him. At one point, he reached beneath her and squeezed a still hot to the touch cheek, making her arch herself even further into his mouth, trying futilely to avoid the sting of his painful touch and landing herself firmly against the fiery lash of his tongue.
    But when he simultaneously reached up to begin torturing her nipples, each in turn, and also slipped one big finger inside her, she completely lost her mind. There was no shame, there was no worry, there was nothing in her world but his dark head as it bent between her legs, driving her towards that raw release that she had begun craving as surely as she craved food to eat.
    And this time, one of the few times, he didn’t make her wait for it. He didn’t tease, he didn’t torture. He simply set himself to that goal and forced her over the edge, fucking her gently with his finger, squeezing and rolling each nipple painfully as he came to it, but mostly not allowing her one millisecond of respite from the strident attentions of his lips and tongue.
    And when she came, it was with a full–throated, all out scream fit to shake the very timbers that kept them afloat. Anjel managed to extricate himself from her, however reluctantly, wearing a grin so broad it hurt his face as he stood and curled his arms under her thighs, pulling her towards him and setting himself at her entrance