Her entire body cringed.
“Am I wrong? Or isn’t chastisement, retribution, a little disciplinary action what all this is about?”
She shook her head. “No, you are not wrong.”
“Didn’t think so. But how about you tell me in your own words what you’re crying out for.”
“I don’t understand?”
“If you say it, you own it, Madeleine. I want to hear the truth from you; the original reason you came here. I don’t want to assume a thing. This is your psyche in distress, not mine.”
She bit her lip self-consciously. The war still raged inside her between obeying his command and obeying the inner voices that would have ended this scene right there. Again her need won and she spoke. “I need to be punished, Daniel,” came out loud and clear.
“Not sex?”
“No, heavens no! I need the punishment.”
He made her sweat this one out until again his voice shot out like gunfire: “All right. Get up.” Madeleine jumped to her feet.
Daniel nodded in the direction of the bookcase. “The tall cabinet. You’ll find a spanking paddle inside. Get it now.”
There was only one tall cabinet in his wall of books and knickknacks. Inside she found more than just a spanking paddle in the foot wide space. The array of punishment paraphernalia stored there might have been shocking for a novice like Madeleine if she hadn’t been entrusted with retrieving just the one item. She had little time to peruse the canes and crops and wooden sticks that were hanging over every square inch of the cabinet’s interior, and once she spotted what he wanted, she reached in, unhooked the two foot wooden paddle from its hook, and withdrew it as quickly as she could. She had the distinct impression that something from the cabinet’s inner depths might actually grab her hand and draw her inside.
“Threatening, is it?”
“Threatening?” she questioned him.
“My cabinet of punishment toys. If you had any doubts about me before, you can allay them now. You’ve obviously come to the right man. Funny how these things just naturally happen of their own accord—how you and I managed to be on the yacht on the same day when I was in an intensely pissy mood and you were in a vulnerable one. How you just happened to stumble into my space at just the right moment. And when my taking of you didn’t come off the first time we met, how you managed to stumble right back to my lair and refuse to leave when I arrived. Fate? Perhaps. You ever wonder about that, Maddy?”
“I’m sure I have.” Her head was spinning too much to think straight. Her entire focus seemed to be on her bottom, which not unsurprisingly was already throbbing in anticipation of the punishment. She looked at the man warily.
“Yes, just as sure as you are wondering when the hell I’m going to get on with it.” He could barely disguise the laughter in his voice.
“I suppose so,” she said.
“Well, let’s not keep you in suspense any longer. Drape yourself over the back of that chair.” He pointed to a nearby easy chair. The rounded top would cushion her crotch, while the height would perfectly position her rear end.
“Yes, sir,” she said, and she went there directly.
Daniel came on her like a ruthless beast, starting with painful blows to wake her up, then settling back down to something she could bear without crying out too loudly. He’d raised her skirt to expose her ass and was striking directly on the plump round globes of her naked bottom. Within a minute, the lusty pink of her behind turned to a darker shade, then turned a hot, blistering red.
She buried her face into the chair’s cushion, wailing protests that Daniel ignored.
For a short time, he backed off and laid on less vicious blows. Madeleine could feel the eroticism in her body bloom. But as he quickly raised the strength of his smacks to a feverish peak, the bliss passed, all that was left was a tense and enduring pain, the stomping feet kind of pain, the kind that had her whimpering madly and begging him to stop then finally wrenching so hard that she nearly fell to the floor to get away from the next blow.
He stopped her there with a smack of his hand, not the paddle, and pulling up close to her side, he gave her left ass cheek a rough squeeze.
“You’d better not pull away from me like that again,” he warned. “Too bad for you that you did this time. Otherwise, naughty girl, your punishment might have been over.”
This was bad news, especially when he started giving her sore ass another round of smacks, going over the same territory he’d just punished. The punishment lasted another minute or two then he finally laid the paddle down.
The abrupt end left her with a scorching behind and physical sensations that instantly turned erotic, though she dared not move. Not even when Daniel hung the paddle back inside the cabinet and returned to his seat. She waited for several interminable minutes until at last he said, “Come here.”
Madeleine stood before him trembling. The pain was gone, leaving a sweet throbbing in her bottom that made her look at him with utter longing. She desired him badly, unable to stop the unwanted desire. The only thing this scene lacked was a rough ride on his hard cock, which would completely shatter the thin veil of fidelity that remained. For months she’d separated herself from the day she and Robbie moved into the estate when Daniel found her at the gazebo and she gave herself to him again. To assuage that sin, she relegated the incident to an unfortunate mistake—in fact she could make a case that he’d coerced her into the kinky sex and this was a mistake she would not repeat. But who was she fooling? Having instigated a punishing relationship with Daniel Prothero, she knew that any hope of retaining her marital purity was pretty much a joke. Despite stating that she wanted a nonsexual arrangement, it would have suited her to get the fucking over and be done with it. That would certainly satisfy her current physical craving.
But that was not what happened next.
Daniel looked up at her judgmentally and smiled. “I know what’s in your head, my naughty one. It’s a good thing that I have my wits about me or I’d be hammering your wet pussy right now. However, in the interests of my job as master of your punishment, I think it would be best if I dangle that reward in front of your face. Make you work for it, if I give you the pleasure at all. I mean, this was to be a ‘platonic’ affair, was it not?
It was impossible to disguise her disappointment.
He stared at her knowingly, but then moved on with a new order.
“Raise your skirt and turn around. I want to see what’s left of the paddling.”
Chagrined and blushing, she raised her skirt and quickly turned around, as if that would stop him from seeing her naked sex.
“Down with the panties,” he said, when he saw the white cotton hipsters covering her behind.
While struggling to hold up her skirt, she tugged the panties down, then jumped back reflexively when Daniel reached out and roughly massaged the red flesh.
“Ouch! Goddammit!” she uttered in annoyance, while her hips fitfully squirmed in response to the pain.
“Must hurt,” he said, and he a little squeezed harder. Within seconds he’d brought back the fiery eroticism that she’d tried to squelch. What use was this, she wondered, if they weren’t going to have sex?
He kept up the forceful massage for another minute then he told her to part her legs, at which point he poked a finger deep into the valley between her thighs and fished around until he found the opening of her pussy. As if he didn’t know that she was dripping wet, he withdrew the finger, announcing in his typically sardonic manner:
“Not just a naughty brat, but a horny one, too. Turn around.”
She dropped her skirt and turned to face him.
“Did I tell you to drop the skirt?” he shot off, annoyed.
“No, sir.”
“Then pick it up,” he snapped. “You know, I could just start the punishment all over, or make you fuck your ass with a dildo right here in front of me, right there on the floor. Wouldn’t that be a pretty sight?”
Hearing h
is cutting remark, she seized up and quickly raised her skirt again. “I’m sorry, Daniel, I’m not used to this.” Rather than look at his impassioned eyes, she stared over his head at the wall behind him.
When his fingers slipped inside her pussy again it was with just enough of a delicate caress to cause a painful spasm in her belly.
“You wouldn’t dare come, would you, Maddy?”
“No, sir,” she gasped, although it wouldn’t have taken but a second for her descend into a violent orgasm.
He withdrew his hand, which was a good thing.
“How long do you have to spend with me?” he changed the subject.
Jerked from her trance, she looked down at him again. “What do you mean?”
“When are you expected back home?”
“Not until dinnertime. This is my afternoon off. Robbie has been very good about that.” But would he be so ‘good’ if he knew what she’d been doing?
“Well then, go stand in the corner and keep that skirt up off your ass. I want to see your naked behind until your pretty bottom is back to normal—as much as it can be.”
Her voice faltered, “What do you mean, as much as it can be? You didn’t leave marks, did you?”
“Nothing that won’t be gone in a day or two. If that is a problem you should have thought about that before you came here. But I’m sure if you’re careful, you’ll get by just fine. Now go do what I ordered.”
Nearly an hour went by in the humiliating pose, Madeleine’s nose in the corner, her skirt up so that a cool draft of air brought a shivering chill to her body and made goosebumps rise on her skin. Her arousal remained high knowing that Daniel could at any time gaze from where he was hurriedly tapping out letters on his typewriter, composing his latest political tome on the upcoming election. She hated that particular side of his world, politics only meant trouble for charities that had to work within the parameters of governments, grants, and who was being particularly generous that year. She was glad that the McKellar Endowment was not dependent on government money, but she harbored a distrust of political machines that conducted their business with the sole intention of staying in power. Robbie’s friends were constantly surprised by the fervor with which she argued her positions, and she knew without having to engage in an argument with Daniel Prothero that he would find fault with her logic—which was why she chose her battles well, and there’d be none with a politico like Daniel whose smooth prose she never failed to read. She knew exactly what was in his thoughts on many matters—if he was actually being candid, which she believed he was.
A desolate hour alone with nothing but her own thoughts bred plenty of questions about what he was writing that day, and who for. Which magazine? Or was it his own blog? His personal writings were sometimes considered Pulitzer worthy gems, but when that austere judge of published works got around to awarding their prestigious prizes to weblogs was anyone’s guess. To think she had a lover—maybe a lover, since they’d not exactly crossed that bridge—who’d sat with presidents, congressmen and corporate power brokers, who flew to Washington and London to meet with the esteemed authors of public policy. Here she was inside this powerful man’s home, inside his private space, standing in the corner with her ass bared for his pleasure.
Who would have known that Daniel Prothero was such a kinky bastard? Or maybe it was common knowledge that no one cared enough to mention. A single man with a penchant for spanking girls. Would that even cause headlines? Was Daniel Prothero scandal worthy? She hoped she’d never find out.
Her mind continued to wander from one place to the next, until she sneezed twice, only to have Daniel finally say something a moment later. “If you need a Kleenex, there’s a box in the john. You can go now if you like.”
She turned around to see that his eyes were avidly focused on the writing before him. Perhaps he hadn’t even bothered to look up when she sneezed. Though seeing just how intently he was working, the sneezing might have reminded him that she was still in the room.
Madeleine quietly made her way to the bathroom where she peed and freshened herself a little. It was just shy of five o’clock. The day before, when she considered what might happen if she followed through with her plan, her fertile mind could easily imagine herself in bed with Daniel at that hour, maybe planning an early dinner before she had to go home to the one prepared at the estate. Obviously these were just the silly thoughts of a romantic. She was wrong about that afternoon on many accounts. And now, she wasn’t sure whether to quietly exit his apartment without disturbing him, or jerk him from his work by asking him a question that he’d likely find inane. Thankfully, that decision was taken from her. When she exited the bathroom, Daniel was already up and walking around, his eyes trained on her as soon as she entered the room.
“Before you leave,” he said, “we should get a few things straight. Knowing that you don’t want to hurt Robbie, you will keep this discreet. I don’t need to tell you that I’m sure. We’ll continue on Wednesday afternoons. If you can’t make it, call. If I’m not going to be around, or I’m not in the mood, I’ll let you know. If you simply don’t show up, I’ll assume that you’ve had enough. But don’t bother to come around again; I’m not a man who will be manipulated by a female’s changing emotions. You have that clear?”
“Yes, that seems fair,” she replied. “I suspect you’ll see me next Wednesday.”
He saw her to the door and let her slip out without saying another word.
Chapter Eight
The following Wednesday, Madeleine arrived at two o’clock as scheduled finding Daniel preoccupied with business. In fact, his phone was tucked between his shoulder and his ear as he opened the door and motioned her inside, barely noting she was there. While Madeleine waited, he talked on for another few minutes until the conversation finally ended.
“I’m swamped,” he announced.
She hesitated and finally asked: “So, you want me to leave?”
“No.” His preoccupation with work stopped long enough to let his eyes light on her. Studying her carefully, he took in every aspect of her lovely body, then finally said: “I want you to dance for me, a striptease. You did say that you performed them for yourself in your sleazy dives, I want to see what that looks like.” Not waiting for her to respond, he settled in at his desk and started banging out more incendiary prose. Madeleine stood motionless for several minutes, unsure exactly where to begin, then Daniel finally turned his head. “What’s keeping you?”
“I-I don’t know how to do this.”
“What, you need a little encouragement to get you going?”
“A little music might be nice.”
“Nope. Music disturbs me when I work. You need to play something, use that imagination of yours.”
After that idea fell flat, it took another several minutes for Madeleine to work herself into the right frame of mind. For a while, she closed her eyes and let her body sway to whatever inner tune that chanced to pass through her brain. She finally began to move more erotically and run her hands over her breasts, waiting for the sensation to stir in her. She imagined that she was in a private club with a group of men in front of her watching every gyration as their cocks grew hard inside their trousers. In her fantasies, she loved to make men sweat, to see them squirm against their chairs and rub their crotches. It didn’t matter that Daniel Prothero kept typing; inside her mind was enough fantasy to pull off the sexy striptease. If she were good enough, he might finally take notice.
Her eyes were still closed as she unbuttoned her blouse, hips moving the entire time. When at last she shrugged the pink silk from her shoulders and tossed it away, her eyes were open, though not yet focused on Daniel. Soon, however, the incessant noise of the pounding keys stopped and a sweet silence fell over the room. The warm light of the afternoon sun was casting long shadows across the wood floors and the old textured walls. The room had begun to glow, while the buzz of an annoying fly provided what little sound there was. Feeling her inner desire rise,
she pushed her skirt over her slim hips and let it drop to the floor, then after gingerly stepping from the small pool of cloth, she danced for Daniel in her heels and underwear just as she had before the mirror in the motel room.
When she finally glanced up, she found his eyes focused on her sexy moves and her entire body quickened as felt a blush of embarrassment color her cheeks. She held on by a most tenuous thread; any second something subtle, the look on his face, a cutting wisecrack, her own trepidation getting ahead of her, might wipe the mood away and she’d look like a fish flopping in the air with no water in sight.
Although her imagination continued to work, she wondered if she was pleasing him. Did he even care? He sat back, looking at her through judgmental eyes with barely a ripple of emotion across a face that could often be as expressive as it was now passive. His face was a rugged and firm one, especially immovable when he played the stoic master—not even a trace of his mocking amusement, or that dreadful glint in his eye that could so unnerve her. Perhaps the dance itself was unnerving enough.
He finally motioned her to him, knowing that words weren’t necessary to have her obey. Placing his hand on her hip, he held with no more force than that, as if that contact fused them together with a steely bond.
“Are you ashamed of yourself, Maddy?” he asked. “Dancing like a slut?”
“Yes, I guess so.”
“You’re not sure? Why would that be? Is it because you went home last Wednesday to your husband, finding him working away in his office, the dutiful servant of his cause. Where had you been all afternoon but flaunting your kink before a man you hardly knew, a man you knew only because you fucked him twice—and not in bed like proper lovers might, but in stolen and explosive moments, both of you incorrigible sluts—an unapologetic hedonist and an adulterous wife. Did you bother to think about how that would look to the world if they knew, if Robbie knew? Or are you just the callous infidel?”
If she hadn’t felt the shame before, she felt it now, huge and forceful, coming directly from Daniel’s mouth and surrounding her with the stinging assessment of her sorry character. She couldn’t remember when she didn’t feel ashamed—she was born with the affliction—so perhaps when she vaguely answered Daniel’s question, she wasn’t communicating what she truly felt. There was no guessing involved; but did she feel shame returning home from her first session with Daniel, more ashamed than any other day she’d indulged in her sleazy sexual behavior.
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