by Thianna D
Peering up at him again, she asked, "Are you planning to spank me later?"
"Depends. Do you need me to?"
"No. Why would you think I…? Oh." The guilt and unease she'd suffered earlier was gone. She felt free. Happy even, until she recalled all the problems that still laid ahead of her. Physically she might be stronger, but the next few months would have their share of pain and hardship. Knowing Jerry would stay beside her every step of the way helped immensely, but even he couldn't take away all her pain. Only time and distance could do that.
"I think I'm okay for now."
He let his head rest against the wall. "Good. My arm was getting tired anyway."
She laughed. "Poor baby. Want mommy to rub away the ache in daddy's sore spanking arm?"
Lifting his head, he arched an eyebrow at her. "I said tired, not sore, and I will administer all forty remaining swats if I don't start receiving more respect from the nude minx seated quite comfortably on my lap. A condition which could be easily altered, I might add."
"Sorry, Master," she purred, responding to his teasing with only the slightest smile curving her lips as she gave her hips a tiny wiggle.
"Uh huh. Perhaps another ten is precisely what is required at this point, though maybe I should use the flat of my hand this time."
Elly clutched his fingers. "No. I was only kidding."
"No. You were attempting to provoke me by being provocative. You think I can't sense every pucker and squirm your lovely pink bottom makes?"
She thought he'd been teasing, but now she wasn't so sure. "Are you angry with me?"
"No. Did I scare you?"
"A little. I assumed you were joking, then I got worried you weren't."
"Ah." He pressed his head back again, but didn't pull his hand from hers, so she traced his long, blunt fingers. She liked the look of his hands. Firm and capable, yet amazingly gentle.
"Were you only teasing me?"
"Perhaps. But even teasing can lead to consequences."
"Should I apologize?"
"Only if you think what you said and did was wrong, or inappropriate."
"I don't."
"Then there's no need for you to apologize, is there?"
"I guess not. But I'm a tiny bit uneasy again." He raised his head and met her gaze. Her choice. "Okay, only ten more to finish addressing my lying, then we'll make love. All right?" He continued to stare at her, not moving. "You did say it was my decision, didn't you?"
"I did."
"So, why does my gut clench after I tell you what I want?"
"Not that I enjoy discussing your soon-to-be-ex-husband, but how would he react if you told him what to do?"
Elly rested her head against Jerry's chest, grateful when he answered her unspoken request by rubbing her back. "He'd handcuff me and take a cane to my backside."
"Seems like a bit of an overreaction to me. What do you think?"
"That I'm not supposed to tell a top what to do."
"Probably not. Most tops don't accept instructions well. They prefer to give them."
She tilted her head a fraction to peer up at his face. "So, did I step out of line with you?"
A slight smile curved the corners of his lips. "A smidgen, perhaps. But I'd never cane you for it."
"I'm sorry."
Responding with a single nod, he lowered his hand and gave her hip a tap. A signal to move, and in this case he meant for her to turn over. Shutting her eyes, she rolled into position. Though she'd requested this, a sense of dread overtook her and she shuddered in an attempt to relieve it. Warm fingers stroked the length of her back until calmness reigned again, and she stilled. Her backside tingled in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant. Anticipation mixed with uncertainty. Rightness complemented need, and acceptance yielded to dominance.
They continued the same as before with Elly repeating the sentence Jerry gave her and crying with relief and gratitude after the tenth stroke was delivered. Once again, physical pain didn't bring on the deluge. Rather the certainty forgiveness had been earned and her reward was unstinting love.
Turning her over, his lips met hers and their tongues performed the mating dance she longed for him to conduct elsewhere. He drew back with a slightly wicked smile. "I'd like us to change positions and try something different."
Before she'd nodded her assent, he'd shifted her so her head lay on the pillow, then positioned himself between her legs. Pleased with the direction of his thoughts, she parted her thighs in open invitation, but rather than move up to lie on top of her, he dipped his head.
"No."
Though his hands held her legs open, Elly struggled to close them. Arthur would often insist she take him in her mouth, but he'd said women were far too dirty for men to enjoy in the same way.
Jerry frowned. "What's wrong, Elly?"
"You shouldn't do that. I mean, it's not necessary, and I'd rather you didn't."
"Necessity has nothing to do with what I'm about to do. And, since I'm limiting the other things we can do together until you're healed, I want to make love to you with my mouth."
"But I'm not clean."
"I sense this is another one of Arthur's taboos."
She shrugged, but tried to pull her legs together again.
"No." The word was softly spoken, but his grip on her thighs was firm and determined. "I'm not Arthur, Elly. I won't force you to do anything if it will make you upset or unhappy, but I'll be disappointed if you refuse me this."
"Why?"
"Because you're letting Arthur come between us."
Elly considered his words. If she stopped Jerry, would she be doing so because of the things Arthur said, or because she didn't want him tasting her in that way? His eyes remained fixed on hers. Her choice. "I'm scared you'll end up disgusted by me."
"I can promise you I won't. I love your scent, Elly. My mouth hungers to taste and pleasure you. Let me love you this way, sweetie, and I give you my word you'll enjoy every lick and nibble almost as much as I will."
Closing her eyes, she pressed her head back and nodded. Though the first teasing flick was only a light caress, she flinched at the unexpected heat. She should have realized his mouth would be a lot warmer than his hand, but hadn't considered the difference. Then, he made a soft humming sound that penetrated her womb as his tongue delved deep inside her core.
Pleasure blossomed within Elly as Jerry began an erotic stroking her body instantly recognized and responded to with an answering pump of her hips. Sensation after sensation claimed her as she luxuriated in this new, carnal play when his lips shifted attention to her clit and his fingers took the place of his tongue.
Elly bit the back of her wrist to stifle her cries, but Jerry drew away to look at her. "Don't muffle your pleasure, sweetie. Your moans are music to my ears, and I want to hear every last one."
Dropping her arm to her stomach, Elly released a sensual groan of satisfaction as Jerry's talented mouth and tongue took her places she'd never imagined existed. A delicious heat suffused her and she trembled. Caught on a needle-like edge of desire and need, all notion of thought and reason escaped her. Then, at the slight scrape of teeth on her most sensitive spot, she screamed.
Though Elly would deny she'd passed out, her sense of reality definitely took a minute-long vacation. When she opened her eyes, her lover lay beside her with beatific smile gracing his lips.
"Told you so," he said softly.
"I promise never to doubt you again," she murmured, curling up against him in bone-melted splendor. Elly didn't recall ever being happier or more satisfied in her life. She couldn't say she looked forward to Jerry's future punishments, but she no longer feared the consequences of one, not after she'd been so thoroughly kissed and pleasured with his mouth after the last one.
Replete with a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment unlike anything she'd experienced before, Elly lay next to her lover while he stroked and reassured her with actions as well as words. He wanted her to stay with him. What pleased
her even more was the knowledge he truly enjoyed being with her, as he'd proved several times over.
She accepted the fact her life wouldn't always be easy. She also suspected the time would come when Jerry's swats were no longer the light, almost playful ones he'd administered tonight, but she never doubted he'd kiss away her tears with the softly spoken assurances she was and always would be loved and adored. Elly had found a home in Corbin's Bend after all, and for now, she harbored no wish, or desire, to be anywhere else.
THE END
Kathryn R. Blake
Kathryn invites you to enter her world "Where Romance and Fantasy Entwine." She writes about dominant, alpha males who are extremely protective of the women they love. However, part of that protectiveness includes the desire for a certain amount of control. These men do not suffer defiance or disobedience lightly. In fact, those are transgressions they absolutely refuse to tolerate, and will take firm steps to ensure such rashness on the heroine's part never happens again.
Kathryn's books have nothing to do with abuse, where the protagonist desires to hurt and degrade the female under his charge. These spankings, though painful, are always given with love and a desire to correct undesirable behavior or habits.
Though not all of Kathryn's books contain spanking, most of them do. However, even in Kathryn's novels where the hero firmly believes in using corporal punishment as a deterrent, he has no desire to cause the heroine injury and takes no delight in hurting the woman of his heart. In fact, sometimes he finds it extremely difficult to follow through on his threats or promises.
These men aren't infallible, and they do make mistakes, but love and respect will always triumph in the end.
Don’t miss these exciting titles by Kathryn R. Blake and Blushing Books!
Lessons in Love
A Simple Misunderstanding
Acting Lessons
Past Interference
Unexpected Consequences Series
Arrested by Love
A Dom's Dilemma
Learning to be Little: Kelly’s Story
Visit her blog here:
http://krbnaughtythoughts.blogspot.com/
www.kathrynrblake.com
Don’t miss the rest of the Corbin’s Bend Series!
Welcome to Corbin’s Bend
Return to Corbin’s Bend
At Home in Corbin’s Bend
Corbin’s Bend Homecoming
Love in the Rockies
Sarah’s Tutorial
Emily Tilton
Copyright 2014 by Blushing Books and Emily Tilton
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Blushing Books®,
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ABCD Graphics and Design
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The trademark Blushing Books®
is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Tilton, Emily
Sarah's Tutorial
eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-4256
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
Chapter 1
Professor John Dunn could hardly believe he got the job offer from Sandy Ridge College. True, he had been confident his credentials would prove satisfactory to the search committee and the administration of the college (how could they not, seeing as he was coming from an Ivy League university?), but when he thought of the reason why he had applied to such a small–though well-respected–institution as Sandy Ridge in the first place, the realization of his fantasies in this job offer still seemed incredible. Indeed, his job application had seemed almost a joke in comparison to the approval process for Corbin's Bend.
He was going to live in Corbin's Bend. Goodness help him, he started to become tumescent even as he read the letter from Brent Carmichael, the president of the town's residents' organization.
He didn’t have much to pack. Dunn, a widower with no children (he and his late vanilla wife, a colleague in the classics department, had decided early in their courtship, twenty years before, that having children would distract them from making the mark on the academic world they–she, really–so desperately wanted to make), had only his library and an old desk he wanted to take along; he didn’t even have many clothes to pack.
It helped that Sandy Ridge, an affluent institution, to suit its clientele coming mostly from the wealthiest suburbs of Denver, offered him a generous housing subvention and even a signing bonus to buy a few new things. Dunn's sizable personal fortune, inherited from his banking forbearers, would also come in very handy–together with the subvention, it had permitted him to buy into Corbin's Bend with enough equity to secure a sizable two-bedroom house.
Dunn surveyed the sum total of the property the moving company was about to load onto the truck. Then he looked down at a certain special duffel bag that lay at his feet, which would not go with the movers. He had already begun to think of that bag as his "Corbin's Bend Bag." In it he stored various things he felt sure he would soon find more consistent use for, at last. Looking at the bag, he could see one of those things–maybe the most important of them– outlined by the black fabric of the duffel: a long, thin, and flexible rattan cane. The thought of employing it on a deserving, bare female backside, in far off Colorado, made him smile.
Still smiling, he met the movers, signed their paperwork, and climbed into his car for the long drive west.
On his journey, Dunn had a good deal of time for reflection. He supposed he should consider the grave task of preparing to educate the undergraduates of Colorado, but after fifteen years at the job in a much more august sort of a place than Sandy Ridge, he judged himself up to the task. Thus, he excused himself for spending most of his mental energy thinking about his spanking-related pursuits, lost in a reverie of planning the scenes he might now have the leisure to enact, and–more importantly–the partners with whom to enact them.
Dunn's interest in spanking, and in some of the more advanced (as Dunn thought of them) areas of dominance-and-submission, was lifelong, but only in the final two years of his marriage. Desperate for relief from caring for a dying wife with whom he had never been sexually compatible, he made his first fumbling attempts to pursue it outside the physical bounds of his hand and computer screen. Outwardly, his demeanor did not appear dominant in any sense, really, and this softness of affect made his initial forays–meetings with women who listed themselves on one or another website as submissive–even more difficult. He was not an alpha male, at least to the subs who seemed to pant after alpha males thought of those herd-leading stallions of men. That had meant his first tentative steps into “the lifestyle”–a way of thinking about it that still seemed strange to him four years later–had been even more tentative than Dunn thought they must be for most new dominants.
He’d had two BDSM liaisons in the four years since he started practicing. (Dunn thought of "practicing BDSM" both as doing it in the real world and as working to improve his skills.) Over the course of the three months during which Dunn and Miriam had played frequently, it became clear that she didn't take it as seriously as he did, and she didn't think deeply about it at all.
Dunn and Miriam had never formally broken off their relationship. That relationship had consisted of Dunn coming to Miriam's apartment (once a week, in the beginning) to discipline her and then to enjoy her submissive erotic favors. The last time, which had occurred after a gap of two months during which they hadn't communicated at all, for no other reason than that they both claimed to be busy, had occurred several months befo
re he received the offer from Sandy Ridge. When the letter arrived, Dunn had taken Miriam out to dinner to tell her that he planned to leave, and to tell her about Corbin's Bend. Miriam had professed happiness for him very convincingly, and said (more perceptively, really, than Dunn had thought her capable of), "I think that's probably what you need, John."
Although it they had spelled it out as a rule in her “Affidavit of Submission”, she had never called him “sir” consistently. He was happy enough to spank her for it during their sessions, but this failure had always irritated him. As far as he could tell, Miriam did it without intending to provoke discipline, but simply because she couldn't be bothered to remember. Certainly now, though, he thought, wasn't a time to insist, let alone to start a disciplinary scenario. That was probably a good bit of the problem. He needed a partner whom he felt compelled to pull out of a restaurant and take to the car for a spanking. Miriam had continued, "I mean, you're not a leather guy, or anything, but you really do need to live it. I like to pretend, but it doesn't go as deep for me as it does for you, I'm pretty sure."
It did go deep for him. Somewhere around Iowa, he began to go over, in his mind's eye, all the scenes he had played with Joanna and Miriam, critiquing his performance as a Dominant and thinking about the new possibilities about to open for him in Corbin's Bend. He remembered what it felt like to have Joanna's bottom under his hand for the very first time, after he had said, in a voice that sounded strange in his ears then–soft, but not tentative despite the slight quaver in it (he had no quaver now), "I think you'd better get over my lap, you naughty girl."
Joanna had started to pull down her jeans then, but he had had the presence of mind to stop her and to say, "I'll tell you when to do that." In a certain sense, his life had begun at that moment, when he saw the look in her eyes that made him think that he probably was, after all, as he had thought since he could remember thinking about anything, a natural at this.