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Authors: Sarah Veitch

Tags: #chimera, #palmprint, #sarah veitch, #erotic, #ebook, #fiction, #domination, #submission, #damsel in distress, #cp, #corporal punishment, #spanking, #BDSM, #S&M, #bondage

Subculture (3 page)

BOOK: Subculture
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‘All of it?' Michael Landers managed to sound surprised. ‘Do you think a girl who ruins an entire Aviary deserves that much pleasure?'

‘No, Master. But I promise never to do it again.'

‘You can't do it again, given that I don't have any birds left.' Michael said with a short, sharp laugh. Jamilla writhed as if anticipating a further cane-based reprimand. Then she sighed with relief as the man began to slide his hardness in.

‘More,' she whispered, as he stopped moving with only an inch of his rod filling up her flesh. ‘Please Master, I implore you.'

‘Imploring are we, now? Makes a change from your usual impudence.'

He hesitated, staring at the portion of his prick that was embedded in her craving conduit, a conduit that obviously wanted to grip his entire phallus. ‘I suppose as I'm here I may as well give you another inch.' He slid in a little way. The Maltese maid pushed back to meet him. ‘Easy,' he whispered, ‘I may get bored with your sexual greed.'

‘Sorry, sir. I'd be grateful for whatever you want to give me, sir,' Jamilla muttered.

Lisa shook her head as she knelt in the stifling corridor. This servant was a feminist's nightmare, a misogynist's dream. Maybe she could have a word with the girl later, show her that modern women had options, that they didn't have to behave in this shameful way.

As she stared, Michael thrust forward some more. Jamilla sighed with obvious pleasure, and her entrance seemed to close tightly on his cock.

‘Oh you need it,' the doctor murmured. ‘You're so hot, so wet, so desperate.' He slid his right hand forward and seemed to find her clitoris. ‘That's it, angel, you rub against my fingers when I move forward into you. But when I move back I'll pull my hand away.' He smiled. ‘You'll just be without the clitoral contact for a second but it keeps you from getting complacent, doesn't it, my sweet?'

The girl seemed to have lost touch with her voice box or her language centre. Leastways, she just grunted in reply. Lisa watched as the younger woman rubbed and bucked in an effort to keep Michael Landers fingers against her lovebud. The maid seemed equally keen to keep his full hardness inside. ‘Anything,' she muttered, and ‘Do it! Do it! Do it, please!'

‘Stop making such a fuss, girl,' the former surgeon said. ‘You know I like to take my time.' He thrust lazily in, pulled part of the way out. Repeated the gesture. Used the same slow sure strokes numerous times. ‘Do you feel my belly slapping against your hot arse, darling?' he taunted. ‘It's blushing the brightest red.'

‘So hot... so sore...' the Maltese servant murmured, voice tremulous with a clear excess of desire.

‘Maybe I should let the new herbalist take a look at it,' the doctor replied.

Lisa's thigh muscles clenched with dismay at the doctor's words. Jamilla's legs tensed with either humiliation or approaching satisfaction. ‘Please don't,' she whispered raggedly. ‘You know I hate it when others see...'

‘Maybe she could prescribe a herbal infusion to cool a well-thrashed bottom,' Michael Landers continued.

‘But Master...' Jamilla sounded overwhelmed with obvious lust.

‘Perhaps she'd knead a soothing balm over your glowing cheeks.'

The image seemed to trigger something off in the girl. She shoved her clitoris hard against his fingers and did a little pre-orgasmic groaning. It obviously opened up the sound and pleasure pathways, for she then cried ‘Aaaaaaaaaaaaah!' The climactic cry went on and on, lasting for longer than the listening Lisa would have believed possible. Michael Landers kept his vital digits on Jamilla's clit as he continued to thrust each pinnacle of paradise out.

‘Oh, you needed that,' he gasped. ‘You naughty girl, you were just begging for a...' He slumped heavily over her back and let out a long climactic sigh.

‘Sounds like I wasn't the only one who needed that,' Jamilla laughed, and there was tenderness and power in her voice again. There was also, Lisa realised, a new equality.

Again Lisa shifted her stance to keep the circulation going in her legs. What was she to do now? A few moments ago she'd been ready to denounce her new boss to the authorities. She'd thought that he was an overbearing harasser - but now it seemed that this woman wanted to be talked down and thrashed. Presumably the same was true of the lighter-skinned girl in the photograph who had been getting spanked over Michael Landers knee.

Confused, the herbalist put her right eye to the keyhole again. The doctor was now helping Jamilla rise from the desk, his lip-curve tender. Smiling sleepily, the maid pulled up her pants and smoothed down her dress. Her eyelids were heavy with satiation, her skin flushed, her movements languorous. ‘Let's lie down for a little while,' the doctor said. He led her to a couch. Lisa could only see the end of it from her restricted viewing post. She heard the springs give as they presumably got carefully into place. ‘That's it. You lie on your tummy, angel,' Michael murmured. ‘Want me to ring for water? Coffee? Tea?'

‘Uh uh. I'm too orgasmed out to do anything but siesta,' the Maltese girl said with delight in her voice.

So the punishment and pleasure were over for now. Lisa stood up and backed soundlessly away. She went back to her room and peeled off her cotton shift; after all, it was well-dampened. As she edged down her panties she realised that the gusset was warm and wet. Warily the herbalist brushed her fingers across her labia. The sensation which followed was so strong and sexually sweet that she almost yelped. Maybe a quick session with her fingers would relax her? Making sure that the door was locked, Lisa slid her middle digits round her clitoris and very quickly came. Arriving in a new country had obviously awakened her somewhat sleepy libido, stimulated her lust...

She was re-showered and dressed in a cream lounging trouser suit by the time the 6pm knock came at her door. A light skinned woman of around twenty stood there. Lisa flushed with shock as she recognised her from the spanking photograph. ‘I'm Carmen. I cook for everyone at Vitality,' the younger woman said. She smiled and held up her notepad. ‘I wondered if you'd like to order dinner? We normally all eat in the dining room at eight.'

‘All?' Lisa muttered, trying to meet the girl's hazel eyes.

‘Yes - Dr Landers, Jamilla the housekeeper, Marie-Rose the receptionist and Bakar the boy who takes care of the horses and the grounds. Oh, and there's Ria, our Sex Therapist, of course, but at the moment she's away.'

‘I thought Dr Landers employed twenty people?' Lisa countered, playing for time, trying to envisage eating opposite Michael.

‘He does - a part time dentist, night care nurses, nutritionalists and a bookkeeper,' Carmen explained, ‘but they don't live in.'

Do they get their bottoms spanked, Lisa wondered. She tried to imagine making small talk with the spanked Carmen and recently thrashed Jamilla over the minestrone. Realised she couldn't yet face them, not just after the caning she'd just seen. ‘It's been a long day,' she said softly. ‘I'll just have a light snack in my room.'

The next day Lisa was woken by Carmen's light knock on the door. After her tray-based breakfast of fresh Maltese rolls with sun-ripe tomatoes she showered then dressed in shorts and a top. Happily she walked down to Reception, intending to ask the receptionist for ideas about the islands sights. She'd been given a couple of days off to get to know Malta properly so now she'd...

She stopped in the doorway of the room as she saw Michael Landers leaning lightly into the cream-painted Reception hatch. He was sharing a joke with the woman behind the desk.

‘...And he said we get the economy we deserve,' he finished. The woman, a Maltese subject of around forty, was laughing so much that tears formed at the corners of her eyes. Michael's own face was creased in smiles, his shoulders relaxed, arms gesturing.

‘Doctor, you should be on the stage,' the Receptionist said.

‘Marie-Rose, if the government keeps taxing me at this rate I may well transmogrify...' Michael broke off as he spotted Lisa standing inside the open door.

‘Ah, just the person I wanted to see.' he murmured, walking closer. Lisa forced herself to confront his gaze. She wished he was still smiling, didn't look so nerve-rackingly stern. But I'm a grown woman, she reminded herself as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, and I haven't done anything wrong.

‘What can I do for you?' she asked, willing her voice not to falter.

‘You can have a word with me immediately in my surgical rooms.'

At least he wasn't suggesting she visit his bedroom. Lisa followed him along the corridor to his medical suite.

‘I've been finding out a little more about herbalism since I hired you,' Dr Landers said as soon as they entered the antiseptic-scented surgery.

‘Oh? Good.' Lisa turned to face him as he closed the door.

‘When I initially consulted you I'm afraid you didn't conduct the consultation in a professional way.'

‘I was unprofessional?' The twenty-eight year old felt her stomach contract as she remembered their first meeting all these months before in Scarborough. ‘How...?'

‘According to the herbalists I've since talked to, you neglected to take my full medical history,' Dr Landers continued. ‘You failed to ask what conventional medicine I was on.'

‘Are you sure? I...' Lisa usually asked such vital questions almost immediately. But he'd been so damned attractive and intriguing, and during the session the telephone had kept bleeping, then the doorbell had rung. ‘If I made an oversight I apologise,' she said, taking a deep breath then forcing her tense mouth into a let's-change-the-subject smile.

‘Apologies don't make patients well again,' the doctor said. ‘Proper procedure is vital.'

‘Next time I'll follow...'

‘This time you still have to be retrained.'

‘Retrained?' Lisa muttered, wondering if he was going to send her on further courses.

‘In other words, you'll have to be soundly spanked,' her new employer and temporary landlord said, beginning to roll up his jacket sleeves.

Chapter Three

 

What was Lisa doing now? Reece paced his Singaporean hotel room. She'd be getting to know her new boss and hopefully finding the real Malta. She might be trying out the snorkelling or windsurfing there. Lisa had always been game for a challenge, Reece thought, smiling ruefully. She was more daring than he. Personally, he loathed the idea of deep sea diving or water polo. But Lisa had been rapt to read that Malta had both.

‘I mean, I won't be working all the time,' she'd grinned, studying the rainbow-coloured travel guides. Reece wished he could invite her here to Singapore right this minute. It would be different once she was his wife. He'd have the right to take her on longer journeys then - his employer would pay her expenses. She could continue to learn about herbal medicine whilst he put some new corner of the globe to rights.

He was the first to admit that he had a traditional streak so wanted her by his side, even though he was trying hard to be a new man. Okay, so he'd never yet bought the tampons, but he could toss a salad and made a reasonable spinach lasagne and dry a dish.

He quite fancied the idea of tossing more than a salad right now, Reece looked thoughtfully down at his crotch, and it gave a little twitch of acknowledgment. He wasn't really horny. It was just that there was so little to do here in Singapore late at night. The entire island seemed to be abed before twelve, which wasn't much fun if you were the nocturnal kind.

And there were so few books here, and the television ended at around midnight and he'd never been a drinker. Reece picked up the notepad by his bedside and uncapped his rolled gold pen. He'd write Lisa a really long letter. As they were saving up to buy a house together they'd agreed not to waste money by talking for hours on the phone.

I miss you, Reece wrote, it's dull here. He thought of the archery and riding that was available on Malta and added I hope that you're having a more stimulating time.

Chapter Four

 

‘Spanked?' Lisa echoed. She stared in shocked surprise at the virtually expressionless doctor. ‘Don't you dare lay a finger on me.' Far less a palm, she thought abstractedly.

‘Oh, I won't unless you agree to it,' said the man.

‘In that case you've got no chance,' Lisa countered, fighting the urge to put her hands on her hips like some latter day cowgirl.

‘I suspect that I've a very good chance given that I'm morally in the right,' Dr Landers said.

Don't let him unnerve you, Lisa chided herself. She looked at the medical examination couch, at the long wooden desk, at the five leather chairs arranged in a rough semi-circle. After a slight hesitation she sat down on one of them to protect her shorts-clad backside.

‘You consulted me complaining of general fatigue initially,' she started, looking directly up into his assertive eyes. ‘I asked in depth about your lifestyle, your diet, your state of mind.'

‘But not about whether I was taking drugs that might conflict with the herbal remedy you prescribed me,' her new boss countered, his lips grim.

BOOK: Subculture
7.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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