Their Master's Pleasure (13 page)

‘Oh, very well,' I muttered. ‘Medium strokes it is. Any thoughts on our running order?'

‘Frankly, I don't see that it matters much,' Nigel said, ‘just so long as we vary it.'

‘They can't do this, surely?' Humphrey said. ‘I don't see how they can possibly know who's spanking them.'

‘My wife obviously thinks she can,' Nigel pointed out. ‘She invented the damn game!'

‘I tend to agree with you, Humphrey,' I said. ‘I think Belinda's bitten off more than she can chew. We've got nigh on a century of spanking experience between us, for God's sake. If we can't control ourselves well enough to fool blindfolded women, I suggest we give up spanking and take up needlework instead.'

Belinda went first. I tied her blindfold myself, having first held it up to the light to check she couldn't see through it.

‘Jamie,' she said with a rueful smile, ‘I'm crushed. Don't you trust me?'

‘With my life, dear lady,' I said. Having satisfied myself on that point, I fastened it around her head, adjusting it so she couldn't peep out from underneath. I then told Belinda to bend, guiding her hands to the stool put there for the slaves to lean upon. Once she was settled, I went back to my seat.

We'd agreed Nigel would go first and he went through the routine precisely as Belinda had described: he raised her skirts, tugged down her drawers and proceeded to lay six medium strokes across her pert little bottom with the tawse we'd settled on. He then covered her up once more and handed the tawse to Humphrey.

Watching my friend in action, I knew the women were in serious trouble. He repeated it exactly, so far as I could see, down to the last nuance - he even flicked her skirts back into place with the same slightly flamboyant action Nigel had used. And then it was my turn. I concentrated hard, trying my damnest to match my predecessors, and can honestly say it was the first spanking I ever delivered that I didn't enjoy for its own sake. I didn't think of it as a spanking at all, in fact, rather an exercise in control. Finally it was over and I returned to my seat.

‘Very well, Lady X,' Nigel called out. ‘Kindly give us your answer.'

Belinda straightened and rubbed her behind. We might regard it more as an exercise in control than a spanking, but our slaves' bottoms would make no such distinction. ‘I'm almost certain the order was... Nigel, Humphrey, James.' she said.

For a moment there was silence, then Queenie began to applaud enthusiastically.

‘Bravo!' Elizabeth called out, smiling broadly.

‘Good God!' I muttered in disbelief.

‘I did it?' Belinda said, taking off the blindfold and blinking in the light. ‘I got them all right?'

‘You did indeed,' Nigel said. ‘Well done, my dear.'

One down, two to go. But the others couldn't be so lucky, surely?

Queenie took Belinda's place and the whole thing started over again. Nigel again went first - we thought they would expect a total change around, so did it this way to fool them - then me, then Humphrey. While I was performing I concentrated even harder on doing nothing Nigel hadn't done, nothing out of the ordinary. When it was over I found myself waiting for her pronouncement with bated breath.

‘Sir Nigel, Mr Montague, then my master,' Queenie said confidently.

Bemused, I looked at Nigel and Humphrey and saw from their faces they were just as baffled as I. Had the women cheated in some way? If so, I hadn't spotted it - and I speak as someone who has practised no small amount of trickery in his time.

Finally it was Elizabeth's turn - and surely things had to change. Belinda and Queenie were punishees with years of experience behind them, whereas Elizabeth had received just a handful of spankings in her whole life. Here was where the masters' skill would triumph, I was certain.

I went first, trying my damnest to give nothing away, even to the extent of tiptoeing back to my chair when it was done so my footfalls couldn't be heard. While Nigel and Humphrey were strapping her I watched Belinda and Queenie closely for any sign of chicanery, but there was nothing. They didn't tap their feet, or scratch the tabletop, or make any sound whatsoever. They weren't communicating with her in any way, I felt certain. Then it was over and again we waited.

Elizabeth, I have to say, appeared far less confident than the others and my hopes began to rise. She chewed at her lower lip, hands clasping and unclasping in front of her, and cleared her throat nervously. ‘Is it... my master, Sir Nigel, Mr Porton-Jones?'

Belinda positively squealed with delight (why is it women cannot win with dignity, I wonder?) and ran up to Elizabeth. Queenie removed the blindfold and the three of them hugged. I was trying my best to be magnanimous in defeat, but it was too painful to watch and I turned away. Though I still harboured the suspicion we had been deceived, we couldn't accuse them of cheating without risking a counter charge of being poor losers and ungentlemanly to boot. I had little choice therefore but to smile - no matter how insincerely - and congratulate them and bide my time. Eventually they returned to their seats and naturally we asked how they had managed it.

‘It wasn't too difficult, in fact,' Belinda said. ‘Humphrey was easy to identify. Yasmine told us he always says “hmmm” very softly, every time he uncovers a female bottom.'

‘No I don't!' Humphrey protested.

‘Yes, you do,' Belinda laughed. ‘I've noticed it myself in the past. All we had to do was listen for the “hmmm” while we were being prepared and we knew it was you. Nigel and James weren't quite so easy to differentiate. Nigel always pats your bottom after he's pulled up your drawers, but he didn't do it this time, so obviously he's aware of the habit.'

‘I am, quite right,' Nigel said. ‘So I didn't!'

‘Something we were particularly concentrating on was strength of stroke,' Belinda said. ‘You hit the hardest, James, but then you must realise that. We guessed you would hold back a little and try to match the others.'

‘Are you saying I failed?' I asked in dismay.

‘In a way, yes. I couldn't detect any difference in the first five, but you forgot about the last one. Almost every man I know makes the last stroke in the set harder than the others, but yours are more pronounced. I told the others if they felt a particularly hard final stroke, that would be you.'

I hadn't even realised I'd done it: certainly I hadn't intended to. My habits, developed over thirty years of spanking and deeply ingrained, had obviously betrayed me. ‘And that's everything?' I said. ‘That's all you had to go on?'

‘That's all. Not a lot, I agree, but clearly it was enough.'

‘Clearly,' I said, smiling to hide my disappointment. ‘Congratulations, ladies. We thought a century of spanking experience was enough to guarantee success - patently, it wasn't.'

‘You may have lots of spanking experience,' Belinda said, ‘but we've lots of experience in taking it. I think you overlook that, sometimes.'

‘Guilty as charged, my dear,' Nigel said. ‘And it means we've finished earlier than expected. I imagined we'd be handing out lots of extra strokes.'

‘Early to bed, then,' Belinda said. ‘The only question, of course, is whose?'

Normally at Exiles, with three men and three women all happy and willing to swap partners, it was simply a matter of pairing off, but Elizabeth's special status complicated things. Our host and hostess had obviously anticipated this problem, for Nigel immediately rose to his feet.

‘I'll wish you all a good night, then,' he said. ‘Our housekeeper awaits me - in a fever of anticipation, one would hope. Ursula, my dear, as I shall be passing your room, may I have the honour of escorting you to your door?'

‘You're very kind, Sir Nigel,' Elizabeth said quietly.

Bidding the rest of us goodnight, she rose and took his arm. Their departure left just four and since the whole idea was to swap partners rather than take your own slave to bed, the logical thing was for Humphrey to ask Belinda to join him, leaving me with Queenie. Out of consideration for his housekeeper's feelings, perhaps (no woman wanting to be the one ‘left over') Humphrey remained silent, waiting for me to take the initiative. I said nothing, however, for I was especially fond of Belinda and been looking forward to tumbling her ever since the invitation arrived. Selfish of me, I agree, but we are all entitled to be selfish once in a while. Coming right out with it and asking her to join me seemed too bare-faced and boorish, and so we simply sat there, Belinda and Humphrey watching me expectantly, Queenie staring into the fire as she patiently awaited the outcome.

‘Well,' Belinda said finally, with a twinkle in her eye, ‘this is rather awkward, isn't it? Perhaps the gentlemen should cut cards.'

Which is precisely what we did, though it didn't work out as I had hoped, for Belinda ended up paired with Humphrey after all. There was nothing to be done about it, however, but put a brave face on things.

‘Come, Yasmine,' I said, in a tone that was perhaps a little too jolly, ‘let's away to our bed, my dear.'

I glanced at Belinda and our eyes met briefly. Was that regret behind her smile? Possibly it was - or perhaps that was mere wishful thinking on my part, for our hostess was no more impervious to Humphrey's charms than the rest of her gender.

Once in bed I put Belinda firmly out of my mind, for it would be ill-mannered of me and most discourteous to Queenie to be mooning over another woman while thrusting into her. In any case, there would be other nights.

The pair of us were soon hard at it, for Queenie enjoyed a good frolic and was always enthusiastic between the sheets. Something she especially enjoyed was having her breasts squeezed and I didn't have long to wait for her perennial gasp: ‘Harder, sir... do it harder!'

I was more than happy to oblige, squeezing just as hard as I could. After a spell with me on top we changed round. She bounced away friskily and volubly for a good ten minutes, after which I rolled her over and finished her off - and myself in the process, naturally - with her legs over my shoulders.

Afterwards she snuggled up to me, sighing contentedly. I held her close and stroked her hair, thinking myself the basest fellow in the world when Belinda crept back into my thoughts. Queenie deserved better, so I engaged her in pillow talk, determined not to look on her as just a substitute, a make-do bed mate till someone more exciting came along.

‘Did you enjoy tonight's game, my dear?' I asked.

‘I did, sir - very much. And you?'

‘Yes,' I said, ‘though I was disappointed you performed as well as you did. I was looking forward to giving you a good spanking.'

She giggled softly. ‘I was looking forward to it too, sir.'

She truly was a sport, Queenie Bryce. ‘You should have deliberately guessed wrong, in that case,' I said, ‘then both of us would have got what we wanted.'

‘I did think about it,' she said, sounding entirely serious, ‘but Lady Newburn wanted all three of us to win, to prove something to you, and I didn't want to let her down.'

‘What did she want to prove?'

‘That victims have skills, too.'

‘Well, you certainly proved that in no uncertain terms,' I said. ‘Just don't go thinking you've escaped your spanking, though. Tomorrow I fully intend to seek you out and warm up your bottom.'

‘You promise, sir?'

‘I promise.'

She murmured happily and burrowed in even closer. Though it was pitch black in the room, I knew she was smiling.

 

 

 

The following morning I rose early. It looked like being a busy day and I wanted to see Elizabeth as soon as possible to discuss tonight's game. Though I had told the others ‘Ursula' would invent it, given that she was dealing with strangers in a strange household, I thought it might require our combined efforts. Leaving Queenie asleep in bed I went down to breakfast. Elizabeth was already there - she was a confirmed early riser - sitting alone at the table.

‘Good morning, my dear,' I said. ‘Did you sleep well?'

‘I did, thank you. And you?'

‘Eventually.' I helped myself to toast and sat down opposite my ward, who was tucking into a plate of ham and eggs as though she hadn't eaten in a month. ‘You seem to have found your appetite, Elizabeth. I thought you hated cooked breakfasts?'

‘You mistake me for someone else, sir,' she said. ‘My name is Ursula... and Ursula has always liked ham and eggs.'

‘Whatever makes you happy, my dear. Now then,
Ursula
, I would like to discuss tonight's game...'

‘No need. It's all done and dusted.'

‘What... already?' I said in surprise. ‘That's remarkably quick, even for you. May I ask how this miracle was achieved?'

‘I worked it out in bed last night before I went to sleep. That's one of the advantages of sleeping alone - you get time to think about things. You might wish to try it sometime, sir.'