‘Allez-vous-en!’ he answered. ‘Go away, you fat little horror. To think of you in her place, ugh!’
He shook his head, as if dispelling some unpleasant image.
‘As sir wishes,’ Sarah said softly, ‘but I am available to your command.’
She curtsied and was about to move away when he began to speak again, now with rising emotion and gradually losing control of his language.
‘How … how can you offer yourself in her place? Vous … vous, la petite boulotte … you little dumpling, you little ape … et vous osez dire … and you dare to think I, a poet and a man of sensitivity, might even think of accepting you in place of her! C’est comparer le divin avec l’avili, une déesse avec tant de – de – so much pig’s offal …’
He broke off with a shriek of dismay, having attempted to strike a dramatic pose with one hand on the rail of the roof garden and missing completely. Sarah leant over the edge, watching as he cartwheeled screaming through the air and hit the Seine with a splash, then long enough to make sure he hadn’t actually drowned. Somehow she was not in the mood for quite such intense verbal humiliation, at least not from him.
‘Do behave yourself, Sarah,’ Céleste remarked as she stepped outside.
‘I’m sorry, Mademoiselle du Musigny,’ Sarah replied. ‘Shall I fetch a whip for myself, or will a spanking be sufficient?’
Céleste peered down into the Seine, where the poet was making heavy weather of swimming for the nearest ladder, then spoke.
‘A spanking, I think. Come indoors.’
The sudden firmness in Céleste’s voice sent a powerful thrill through Sarah, almost as strong as the one from the threat to spank her. She was already shivering hard as she trailed after Céleste, her head hung low. The tray she placed to one side, scurrying after Céleste towards the straight-backed Louis Quinze chair they had set aside for Sarah’s punishments.
Céleste didn’t bother to make an announcement, spanking her maid being a task far too trivial to need drawing attention to, while she was automatically the focus of the room in any event. Sarah was simply taken across the knee, her tiny flounced skirt turning up of its own accord to expose the full plump ball of her bottom, which Céleste immediately started to smack.
Sarah couldn’t help but sigh as the stinging slaps began to fall, her ecstasy at being punished by Céleste and in front of so many good-looking young men easily pushing aside the pain. In response Céleste began to spank harder, until at last Sarah began to kick and wriggle. Her breasts had flopped free of her bodice and had quickly started to bounce to the rhythm of her spanking, adding an extra touch of shame to her enjoyment as she was punished.
One or two men made remarks, complimenting Céleste on her no-nonsense attitude to domestic discipline, each one sending Sarah a touch higher, and all the while with the relentless smacks landing on her hot bare bottom, until at last she’d begun to wonder if she would come just from spanking alone, only for her soaring arousal to be interrupted by the crash of a door and a cry of masculine pain, then a voice, a quintessentially English voice.
‘How about picking on somebody a bit nearer your own size, you stuck-up Froggie bitch?’
Sarah tumbled to the floor, legs akimbo and cunt spread to the world as Céleste gasped in shock. Becky Wellington stood in the open doorway, her magnificent head of flame-red hair almost touching the lintel, her green eyes ablaze, her impressive chest heaving, her hands placed on her powerful hips. She wore riding boots, jodhpurs, a starched white blouse and a tailored jacket in hunting pink. In her hand was a wicked-looking riding crop.
The scene had frozen, but only for a moment, before Céleste squealed in shock and fear, trying to scramble away as Becky came forward. Not a single man moved to help the object of their adoration, each and every one rooted to the spot and gaping like so many goldfish as Céleste was caught, dragged back to the spanking chair and flipped over Becky’s knee with cool and practised skill. Sarah finally managed to react, raising a finger.
‘B – Becky –’
‘Don’t worry, sweetheart,’ Becky answered. ‘I’ll take care of the little minx. Right, Céleste, spankies time! Let’s see what your knickers are like today, eh?’
Even as she spoke she had begun to pull Céleste’s gown up, to the accompaniment of piercing desperate shrieks and frantic kicking. Becky merely laughed, and when the dress stuck, she bunched her arms and ripped it wide, all the way up the back, tugging it free to leave her victim stark naked save for her designer heels and a pair of black stockings with a seam at the rear.
‘No knickers at all, eh?’ Becky chortled. ‘You dirty French trollop! Oh well, save me the effort of pulling ’em down, I suppose. Right ho, how’s this for my Parisian exploit, Sarah sweetie? I’m going to spank the bitch and make her lick me out.’
Sarah’s attempt to speak was drowned out as Céleste responded to the news with a long drawn out howl of inexpressible dismay, which abruptly broke to squeaks and gasps as Becky laid in, smacking her hand down on the firm little bum cheeks with all her force. Still the men held back, although in one or two cases shock had given way to prurient interest in Céleste’s rear view, with not only the little round bottom on plain show, but her neatly waxed cunt and the dark brown pucker of her anus. Again Sarah managed to find her voice.
‘No, Becky … Becky don’t spank her …’
Becky stopped.
‘You’re right, darling,’ she said. ‘What she needs is a dose of my riding crop.’
‘No, I mean –’ Sarah began, but too late.
Becky had already laid in, smacking the broad leather sting on her crop down on Céleste’s already pink bottom to draw ear-splitting squeals and a crazy wriggling motion from the helpless Frenchwoman, with her long legs kicking in furious disarray and one fist thumping frenziedly on the carpet.
Sarah pursed her lips, trying to concentrate on making Becky stop it, only to realise that however appalling the sight of Céleste being spanked might be, it was also powerfully arousing, maybe only because of the Champagne she’d drunk, but still …
‘She likes it,’ she said softly. ‘She can’t help it … she’s always wanted it … see how wet she is … she wants to lick Becky too, and so do I.’
‘That’s you dealt with, you,’ Becky announced as she dropped the riding crop. ‘Now how about a portion of juicy English cunt?’
Céleste dropped to the floor as she was released, sitting dazed as Becky quickly pushed down her jodhpurs and the panties beneath to bare her full richly-furred sex. As she sat down her thighs were wide open, revealing how excited she was, but no more so than Céleste, whose own normally neat cunt was puffy with excitement and slippery with cream.
‘Lick me,’ Becky demanded, ‘and don’t stop until I’ve come. No, better still, Sarah can lick me, if you’d like to, sweetheart? Céleste, you can do my bumhole.’
As she spoke she had moved a little further forward on the chair, leaving her cheeks sticking out over the edge with her pinkish brown anal star showing between. Céleste had come up into a kneeling position, classically submissive, with her bottom pushed out, and yet there was still horror in her eyes as she focused on Becky’s anus.
Again Sarah hesitated, but there was no going back. Crawling forward, she pressed her face to Becky’s cunt, licking eagerly as she took a firm grip in Céleste’s hair. The response was a little mewling sound, but Sarah knew Céleste wanted to lick. After all, what Sarah wanted was what Céleste wanted, always would be and always had been, only now she understood. Sure enough, Céleste’s pointed tongue poked out, to lick between Becky’s bottom cheeks, and on her anus.
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NEXUS NEW BOOKS
To be published in December 2006
SILKEN EMBRACE
Christina Shelly
The Bigger Picture is a radical and powerful organisation of dominant women intent on turning young men into ultra glamorous she-males to become housemaids that serve wealthy women and demanding men. Shelly manages to escape the strict training program and shelters with Mrs Ambrose, a beautiful and glamorous widow who runs a rival academy. But it’s not long before the beautiful and severe agents of The Bigger Picture track her down and return her to captivity, where her erotic torments and re-education continue, with an even greater creativity and extremity than ever before.
£6.99 ISBN 0 352 34081 9
WHALEBONE STRICT
Lady Alice McCloud
Petticoats, corsets, frilly knickers, lace, and canes – all part of the Imperial world inhabited by Thrift; a young and naïve foreign office agent sent on special missions on behalf of the empire. In Whalebone Strict, Thrift Moncrieff’s assignment for the British Imperial Diplomatic Service takes her to the North American colonies, where she is supposed to compromise the position of a politician. In this she is rather more successful than she had planned, leading her ever deeper into difficulties that more often than not lead to the opening of her ankle length corset and elaborate underwear, either for the entertainment of a string of lecherous men, or to have a hand applied to her delectable buttocks.
£6.99 ISBN 0 352 34082 7
IN FOR A PENNY
Penny Birch
Penny Birch is back, as naughty as ever. In for a Penny continues the story of her outrageous sex life and also the equally rude behaviour of her friends. From stories of old-fashioned spankings, through strip-wrestling in baked beans, to a girl with unusual breasts, it’s all there. Each scene is described in loving detail, with no holding back and a level of realism that comes from a great deal of practical experience.
£6.99 ISBN 0 352 34083 5
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ABANDONED ALICE
Adriana Arden
0 352 33969 1
ALICE IN CHAINS
Adriana Arden
0 352 33908 X
AMAZON SLAVE
Lisette Ashton
0 352 33916 0
ANGEL
Lindsay Gordon
0 352 34009 6
AQUA DOMINATION
William Doughty
0 352 34020 7
THE ART OF CORRECTION
Tara Black
0 352 33895 4
THE ART OF SURRENDER
Madeline Bastinado
0 352 34013 4
AT THE END OF HER TETHER
G.C. Scott
0 352 33857 1
BELINDA BARES UP
Yolanda Celbridge
0 352 33926 8
BENCH MARKS
Tara Black
0 352 33797 4
BIDDING T
O SIN
Rosita Varón
0 352 34063 0
BINDING PROMISES
G.C. Scott
0 352 34014 2
THE BLACK GARTER
Lisette Ashton
0 352 33919 5
THE BLACK MASQUE
Strip Girl Page 22