A Strict Seduction (10 page)

‘I'm sorry,' she mumbled to me. ‘I shouldn't have said what I did. I'll understand if you never want to see us again…'

‘She's right,' Alan added. ‘I'd understand if you felt insulted.'

‘A drink?' I suggested, feeling thoroughly out of my depth.

‘Get the man a drink, girl!' Alan snapped angrily.

Maddy jumped. She crossed the room and began to shakily pour two beakers of scotch, only she was pouring more of it onto the floor than into the tumblers.

‘Look what you're doing!' Alan scolded her.

‘Sorry, sorry,' was all she could think of saying. She put the whisky tumblers down and then looked at the pool of scotch on the floor. Taking her hanky from her bag she knelt down to mop it up. As she did so Alan and I were treated to another display of her elegant thighs, stocking tops and soft pale skin. The shape of her backside was impressed against the tight black material, leaving little to my feverish imagination.

‘Enough of that,' Alan told her promptly.

‘I'm so sorry,' she whispered, sounding on the verge of tears.

‘You've been sorry all evening,' he said coldly. ‘I think it's time you really had something to feel sorry about.'

If I was tempted to intervene the threat in his voice, and the responsive look on her face, made me bite my tongue. For a moment it seemed I had been forgotten about, that I was an intruder on some private domestic argument. Then Alan looked at me, the harsh look on his face not matched by the excitement I detected.

‘Please, not now…' Maddy said, her voice barely a whisper.

Alan sat down on the very edge of the sofa, and motioned for her to step towards him. I watched, fascinated by what was unfolding between them. She stopped in front of him, her head bowed and her hands at her sides. She looked like a recalcitrant child, bowed with guilt for all her misdemeanours, meekly waiting to be scolded.

‘Across my knees,' he barked, ‘I shouldn't have to tell you that.'

She glanced towards me, her face red with shame, her dark eyes unable to meet my own. My heart was pounding and the excitement in the room was electric. Very slowly she complied, moving gracefully into place across his lap. Of course her short dress revealed all, and I enjoyed everything I saw. Her tight black panties were but a sliver of darkness between her bottom cheeks, the tight material parting the round globes of flesh as Alan pulled the dress higher.

In moments I was treated to the gorgeous sight of her posterior, the dress pulled up to her waist completely by her husband. The stockings were pulled tight by lacy black suspenders, which were pressed firmly across her bottom cheeks, and which served to part them slightly. Her panties were a thin satiny thread, contrasting to the whiteness of her skin.

Alan smiled, he was showing his young wife off to me, and enjoying every second of it. She muffled her complaints, and stilled for a second, realising perhaps that the time for resistance was over. Her long legs had never looked better, I was certain of that.

‘Next time,' Alan warned her, ‘perhaps you'll think twice about making stupid remarks to our guests.'

He raised his hand high above his head and then brought it down swiftly. The slap of flesh on flesh filled the room, a sharp sound that brought a wail of horror to her pretty lips. He waited a moment, giving me time to admire the red imprint of his hand against her right bottom cheek, before marking her again. His hand made a graceful curve, then slapped down hard against her buttock. Again and again, such hard strokes of the hand I'd never seen. She struggled and wriggled, but to no avail, he was intent on punishing his pretty wife completely.

Her struggles succeeded only in arousing me further, each twist of her waist, each curve of her bottom only revealed more of her flesh. The panties were pulling tighter between her rear cheeks, exposing more of her reddening punishment. I noted the way her cries of horror had softened, and that she seemed to be moving into each stroke. Yes, I was certain of that. I watched her lift her posterior towards the stroke, offering her pert backside for her husband to spank.

‘I see what you mean about having to warm her up,' I ventured to say at last. I was smiling, not even attempting to hide my pleasure. Her backside was tanned an even pink glow, contrasting to the darkness of her stockings and the whiteness of her upper thighs. She looked delicious, and with her punished bottom displayed so prominently I could hardly control my own feelings.

‘She does need a firm hand, sometimes,' Alan admitted, slowly rubbing his palm across the reddest part of her bottom. He was savouring every second, and she in turn was reacting to it fully, her breath sharp, her eyes half closed with pain and pleasure.

‘I can see that,' I agreed.

‘But we're not finished yet, are we my dear?' Alan continued, a cruel, taunting twist to his voice.

‘Please… Don't…' she whimpered, covering her face with her hands.

‘You've been very bad these last few days, a few slaps on the backside aren't enough to pay for that,' he said, then added, ‘even if it does hurt.'

He pushed her off his lap very roughly, and she fell heavily to the floor, her finger-marked backside making contact with the coldness of the floor. She winced, looked at me with nothing but shame in her eyes, and then turned back to her husband. Her lips were trembling and I feared tears. She bit her lip, trying to hold back everything she felt.

‘Get that off,' he told her gruffly, pointing to the little black dress, which no longer looked as elegant as it had earlier.

‘But… but…'

‘Now!' he ordered, in a voice that brooked no disagreement.

She stood up shakily, keeping her back to me, and pulled the dress off over her head. For a second no one said anything. She stood balanced on her stiletto heels, an image to enjoy. She had been topless under the dress, and from the rear I could see only the gentle curve of her breasts. Now she was clad only in stockings, panties and suspenders.

‘Get those off too,' Alan decided, slapping her hard on the bottom and making her squeal.

This time there were no complaints, as if she had finally realised that resistance was pointless. She unclipped her suspender belt and pulled her panties down to her ankles. Now I could see the full roundness of her derriere, the firm globes of her shapely backside flushed pink from her spanking. She crossed her hands across her chest, covering herself while keeping her back to me.

‘Well?' Alan asked, turning to me with a smile. He was justly proud of his wife's body, I could see that in his eyes.

‘I'm just glad you've got her under control,' I commented, unable to keep my eyes from her backside. ‘Only I wonder if she's really been taught enough of a lesson tonight.'

For a moment he seemed thrown by my remark. I don't know what he'd been expecting me to say, but it wasn't that. ‘You don't think she's been spanked hard enough?' he asked. I saw her swallow hard, gulping with anticipation.

‘A few slaps with the hand aren't really enough,' I explained. ‘It's not exactly discipline, is it? I mean, you've tickled her, but that's hardly what I call punishment.'

Alan nodded, intrigued by what I was saying. I saw her flick her eyes towards me and then look away, still too afraid to look me in the eyes. I was no longer worried; I liked the look of her and was staring openly, enjoying the sight of her reddened posterior, and of the way she was standing there between Alan and myself, vulnerable and exposed.

‘And what do you call a proper punishment?' he asked inevitably. I liked the note of challenge in his voice; my remarks had irked him in a way he'd not counted on.

‘I'll be back in a second,' I told them both, and turned to leave the room.

‘Where are you going?' she asked softly, hardly daring to speak.

‘Never you mind where he's going,' Alan scolded.

I was in the kitchen in an instant, knowing exactly what to look for and where. I'd been their guest many times before and knew their house as well as I did my own. In seconds I had what I wanted and marched straight back into the front room.

‘May I?' I asked, pointing to the sofa.

Alan stood up to make way for me. Maddy was panicking, trying to cover her breasts and her sex with her hands, which only made Alan and myself smile.

‘Across your lap, or on the floor?' Alan asked.

‘My lap, I think.'

She took one long beseeching look at Alan, but there was no mercy for her. I made way for her and she slipped over across my lap, the warmth of her body and the scent of her enveloping me immediately. My hardness pressed against her side, but I made no move to hide that. Her bottom was pink and soft, her buttocks slightly parted so I could glimpse the swell of her pussy lips.

I raised my hand and then brought it down hard. She squealed, her cry filling the room, a few decibels louder than anything Alan had elicited from her. I looked down and saw the fresh, red imprint of the wooden spoon across her right buttock. I touched it with my fingers, pressing hard against the redness, feeling the contours of the raised flesh. Alan peered across and nodded appreciatively.

Maddy seemed to be having hysterics, but I didn't let that interfere at all. The spoon smashed down hard again and again, the sharp slaps of wood on her firm flesh a delightful sound to my ears. I patterned her body with red marks, each as sharp and well defined as the last, across her buttocks, at the top of her legs, between her thighs. She squirmed and struggled, and I was in torment as my hardness pressed her soft body.

She cried out once, louder and more intense, and I realised that the pain had become pleasure for her. Her sex was moist, and I saw the sinuous way she moved and offered herself to the strict punishment I was giving her.

‘Well?' I asked, a note of triumph in my voice.

‘I see what you mean,' Alan replied thoughtfully.

‘Stand in the corner,' I told her dismissively. Meekly she did as she was told, easing herself off my lap and limping to the corner. She understood what I was after, and turned her back to us so we could admire her punished backside from a distance.

Alan passed me my drink, and we stood in silence contemplating his wife's chastised body.

‘Do you use a strap?' I asked, enjoying the warmth of the drink.

He nodded. ‘Occasionally, though I prefer to use my hand. I've thought about getting a cane sometimes, like those old fashioned ones you see in documentaries about Victorian times. What do you think?'

‘You have to be careful with a cane,' I explained, ‘but if used properly they're an excellent instrument of correction.'

He laughed. ‘You know,' he said, ‘if I'd known you were such an expert I'd have called you in sooner.'

‘She's slacking over there,' I pointed out. Maddy was no longer standing as straight as she had been, and she was touching herself surreptitiously, tracing the marks on her backside with her fingers.

‘You'll stay the night?' Alan asked me quietly.

I gestured with my empty glass. ‘I can hardly drive after what we've had in the restaurant and this.'

‘Good, the spare room's all made up for you. Now to put things right.'

I gave him the wooden spoon and watched him cross the room. Maddy was taken by surprise when he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to the armchair.

‘Sometimes you just don't learn,' he snapped. He pushed her over the padded arm of the chair, pushing her legs apart with his foot. She was bent over, her beautiful breasts hanging free, the ripe nipples exposed completely. There was a dazed look in her eye, as though she had no idea what was going on.

‘How many?' he asked.

‘Six, and make them count,' I told him.

She cried out before the first stroke had even touched her. It snapped hard on her thigh, and then again, but higher up. He had taken my example to heart, and each stroke counted, each touch of the rough wooden spoon left it's mark on her quivering body. She sobbed and moaned, and I couldn't tell what was pain and what was pleasure for her.

She climaxed again, clawing at the armchair as her body spasmed from the intense sensation of being punished. When he released her I knew she had enjoyed an experience more intense than anything she had ever felt before. Not only had she been cruelly chastised by her husband, but her punishment had been witnessed by me, and I had punished her as well.

‘Now it's time for you to get to bed,' Alan told her, his voice a whisper of excitement.

Hesitantly, as if afraid that she'd collapse, Maddy pushed herself from the armchair. She turned and kissed Alan on the mouth, a hot, passionate kiss that had her melting. I saw his hands reach down to explore the smarting cheeks of her behind.

At last he released her and she turned to me. Her chest was patterned red too, as though her pleasure had exploded all over her. She walked towards me and I took her in my arms. We kissed, our mouths joining, her body pressed onto mine. I could not stop myself, my arms traced the curve of her back and found the firm roundness of her bottom, her flesh giving over a raw heat that was completely sexual.