A shocking volley of smacks followed her protest, and when his hand abruptly stopped, her bottom was on fire and she was gasping for air.
“I’m sorry,” she bleated breathlessly, “I just didn’t expect…” she panted.
“Discipline, Brittany, can take many forms,” he said sternly. “You attempted to control me, and now you will learn it is I who has the control, and I will do with you as I see fit. You are suffering embarrassment and humiliation because of the arrogance you have shown. To think, for one minute, that you could engineer events, that you would dare sneak into my cabin…it’s shameful,” he scolded.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “I get it.”
“Be quiet, I don’t want to hear another word out of you,” he growled, and grabbing her scorched flesh, he again pulled her cheek to the side.
The moist intruder tickled for just a moment before attempting to push its way into her dark depths. Groaning into the pillow she wiggled in protest, but even that silent protest wasn’t permitted, and was met with several more hard swats. The message loud and clear; be still and be quiet.
For the third time he repeated the process, holding her cheek aside and touching whatever it was to her frightened anus.
This time she held still, holding her breath, and as he pushed it forward a prickling heat burned through her face, down her neck, and through her body. Everything stopped, and she found herself cloaked in heavy silence. He was holding it inside her, making her feel it, making sure the gravity of the moment enveloped her.
Duncan allowed a few slow minutes to tick by, then began tapping the flange of the butt plug. He knew it would underscore the punishment, and send forth a fresh wave of humiliation.
“Now then, Brittany, do we understand each other?” he asked, his voice quiet but firm.
“Yes, Sir,” she gasped.
“Who is in control?”
“You are, Sir,”
“What happens if you misbehave?”
“I, uh, get punished, Sir.”
“You get punished, though I prefer the word, disciplined. You will be disciplined,” he said firmly. “Now I’m going to spank you, Brittany, long and hard and slowly. You will not beg me to stop, you will not lift your head from that pillow to cry out, you will not gyrate your hips to avoid my hand. You will show me that you have learned your lesson by being still and accepting my hand, remembering that the spanking is discipline that you have earned. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir, but can you take that thing out before you start?”
Duncan could not believe his ears. He had just completely humiliated her, he had laid down his rules, and he had made her vulnerable position perfectly clear, and what she had come back with?
Can you take that thing out?
For a brief moment he wanted to laugh. In all the years he’d been harpooning and spanking naughty bottoms, never, at this point in the proceedings, had he been met with, but can you take that thing out?
How the bloody hell do I counter that? Another flurry of swats isn’t going to help, I’m about to spank her anyway.
He frowned, searching for the appropriate response, then it came to him, and without a word he slowly began to withdraw the unwanted intruder.
“Oh, thank you, Sir,” she moaned, but her relief was momentary; he didn’t pull it all the way out, and immediately sent it back in.
She wailed her disappointment into the pillow as he fucked her with the dildo, slowly at first, then gathering speed, until her groans suggested he’d made his point.
“Any other requests?” he demanded
“Noooo, Sir, noooo, I’m sorry.”
“Since you caused me to delay your spanking, I am going to add ten additional swats with my leather soled slippers as additional discipline, after which you will kneel in the corner and think about this entire episode.”
“Ooh, yes, Sir,” she mewled.
With the butt plug still firmly in place, he raised his hand and began her spanking. Duncan was a very patient man when it came to delivering his discipline, and as he’d promised his hard smacks were delivered with a methodical, measured pace, the heat and sting of each slap being allowed to fully register.
He would occasionally rest his palm on her reddening skin, enjoying the heat that radiated back at him, and when her bottom was sufficiently scorched he paused, tapped the flange a for a moment or two, underscoring his point, then slowly pulled it out.
“You can rest. I’ll be back in a moment with my slipper.”
Brittany turned her head from the pillow and took several long deep breaths. Her backside was on fire, never had she endured such embarrassment, and she was filled with remorse.
I’ve become Emily. Emily received ten extra slipper smacks because she’d protested something. Why didn’t I remember that? Ohhh, my butt hurts so much, and that thing inside me, oooh, that was so weird. I can’t believe he did that. It was in the book, but he did it to her after they’d been together, and it…
The sound of his approaching footfalls broke into her mind chatter, and as he placed his hand on the small of her back she returned her head to the cushion.
This is going to really hurt, I know that, but it’s only ten. I can deal with ten, at least, I think I can.
“These will not be slow, Brittany, and this will not be pleasant.”
“None of this has been pleasant,” she whimpered into the pillow.
“What did you say?” he frowned.
“Sir, I said, none of this has been pleasant,” she repeated, then hastily added, “but I wasn’t being cheeky.”
“I would certainly hope not, because I have no compunction about making it twenty.”
“Ooh, Sir, I meant no disrespect,” she said quickly, hoping her tremulous voice relayed her sincerity.
“Prepare yourself, head into the pillow,” he directed, his voice stern, “and no more comments.”
Gritting her teeth she did as he said, and as the slipper began to dance upon her scalded behind, lacing it with a searing heat, she squealed into the cushion.
The leather carried its own brand of sting, and though the ten were dispatched quickly and the punishment was over in seconds, she was moaning and twisting her hips when he finished.
“Stay as you are. I will be back to place you in the corner shortly.”
Duncan moved to the bar and poured himself a shot of cognac; it was his ritual, to have a drink after delivering discipline. She’d taken her spanking with fortitude, never once begging him to stop as many had in the past.
You are just as unique as I thought you would be, Brittany Carter. This is going to be a very interesting few days.
CHAPTER TEN
Kneeling in the corner, Brittany’s wrists had been untied and her slacks and panties completely removed, and he’d instructed her to hold her hot cheeks while she pondered her behavior.
With the blindfold still in place, and her searing bottom in her hands, his instruction was superfluous. What she had done and how he had exacted his discipline was consuming her, but so was the erotic heat that had washed through her sex; her pussy had never felt so alive.
She was aching for him, she was aching to feel his cock slice through her, aching to feel his lips on her breasts, and aching to hear his hot, sensual whispers.
Sighing heavily, wondering for how long she’d have to stay kneeling, her mind wandered to the mischievous devil who lived inside her. The imp had been with her for as long as she could remember, pushing her forward into foolishness, and filling her with doubt when facing change.
She would stare at the ceiling at night, imagining the thrill of opening a recycled high-end clothing store in a big shopping center somewhere, but the voice of her devil would fill her with trepidation.
Why, why do you plague me? Why do you have such power over me?
Her knees were hurting, and she shuffled, attempting to find a more comfortable position, but the sound of his returning footfalls broke into her distressing thou
ghts, and caused her to settle.
“Brittany, do you have anything to say?” he asked, touching her shoulder.
She gasped, not from surprise, she had heard his approach, but from the shard of sexual energy that danced from his fingertips.
“Yes, Sir, I have many things to say,” she said softly, “and something to ask.”
“What’s your question?”
“How much longer do I have to stay here?”
Once again, Brittany Carter had succeeded in shocking him.
Good heavens, even after all this you still question me? Your fortitude and determined mind are extraordinary.
Leaning forward he placed his lips at her ear.
“After everything you’ve just endured, surely you know the answer to that, and what do you think it is?”
“Uh, sorry, Sir, as long as you think necessary,” she sighed.
“Yes, as long as I think necessary, and how do you think I feel about that question?”
“Inappropriate, Sir,” she sighed again.
“Inappropriate and impertinent,” he said firmly. “You’re just learning, so I will give you some latitude, but not much, because while you are foolish, Brittany, you’re not stupid, and that was a stupid question. Would you agree?”
“Yes, Sir, thinking about it…yes, I see it was.”
“As I said, I do allow some latitude in the early stages of training, so I will not make you kneel any further as punishment, but there must be some consequence. That consequence will come at dinner, assuming you wish to continue with me.”
“I do, Sir,” she nodded fervently, though I really am wondering why I want to so badly. My ass is stinging like mad and my knees feel like they’re going to give way any minute, and yet I want-
“Spread your legs,” he ordered.
The instruction took her by surprise, and sliding them slowly apart, not wanting to suffer carpet burns on top of everything else, she held her breath.
Oh, touch me, please, please touch me.
“I know what you want. I know you are praying that I will slide my fingers between your legs and tickle your wetness. All I am doing at this moment is putting you in touch with that need,” he said softly.
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, “you’re right, I am aching for you to do that, I am aching for you…positively aching…”
“You will have to wait. You are to return to your cabin where you will immediately strip, then sit on your sore bottom and write me a letter,” he instructed. “In it you will tell me all the thoughts that went through your head while I was spanking you, and again while you’ve been kneeling. I’m not concerned about spelling or grammar, I am only concerned with raw honesty. Don’t leave anything out, not anything. I’ll know if you do.”
“Yes, Sir,” she murmured, “I won’t, I’ll write everything down, everything that I thought and felt.”
“When you’re finished you’ll bring the paper back here and slip it under my door, then return to your bedroom to nap, but you are not to touch yourself. I will expect your arrival back here at precisely 7 p.m., dressed appropriately and ready to dine. Now you may stand up.”
Sighing heavily, Brittany was grateful that his hand held her elbow as she struggled to her feet, and to her joyful relief he engulfed her in his arms.
“Poor Brittany, you have such a sore seat now,” he purred, slipping the blindfold off her head. “Don’t you worry, it will all be worth it in the end. You’ve needed strict discipline for a long time, and now you’ve met someone who will give it to you.”
A wave of emotion swept over her, and swallowing hard she fought back an unexpected urge to cry.
“You’re very emotional right now,” he crooned, as if reading her mind, “and if you feel tears you must allow them to flow, it’s important. Go ahead, I won’t let you go until you’re all done.”
His tender tone and words of understanding opened the floodgates, and sobbing heavily she buried her head into the crook of his shoulder. He stroked her head as she cried, rubbed her back and offered soothing words of comfort. When the tears finally dried up he shifted her body slightly back from his, and lifting her chin with his finger, he dropped his lips against hers.
The potent kiss demanded a mutual surrender, and as her body gave way, sinking into his strong hold, and their mouths moved in unison, Duncan began to feel a stirring in his soul, a stirring he’d not experienced in many years, a stirring that told him Brittany would haunt him long after they left the ship to go their separate ways.
As they broke apart and her arms clung to him, he knew she was feeling it too; that indefinable something; it was one of the most powerful forces on earth.
What the hell am I going to do about this? I suppose I’ll have to answer that question in a few days. At least I have some time to learn more about you Brittany Carter, but if I’m being totally honest, what I’m feeling is everything I need to know.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sitting gingerly on her roasted behind, it took Brittany over thirty minutes to write down everything that had crossed her mind, including the details about the ongoing battle with her naughty inner imp. When she’d finished a wave of fatigue unlike anything she’d ever experienced sent her to bed, but she had the presence of mind to set her alarm for 6 p.m.
The moment her head hit the pillow she was asleep; it was dreamless and deep, and when she awoke she felt better than she had in years. Her bottom was tender, but her spirit was light, and stepping into the bathroom, she stripped, then stood with her back the mirror and stared over her shoulder at her blotchy red cheeks.
Wow, you really walloped me, Duncan Rhys-Davies. I wonder what it’s like to be spanked the way you described. What did you call it? A pleasant, smart spanking? This sure as hell wasn’t a pleasant, smart spanking. You were right, it was punishment, sorry, discipline.
Wanting to spare herself any more stinging pain she made sure the shower was warm, not hot, and stepping into the stall she soaped herself with the pomegranate bath gel supplied by the cruise line. She’d fallen in love with the scented foam the first time she’d used it, and closing her eyes she sighed softly as the citrus fragrance floated around her.
I hope you’ll like what I’ve written, Duncan. I haven’t left anything out, and I’ve put things in there I’ve never told anyone. Maybe sneaking into your cabin was a good thing after all. Maybe it made our relationship move faster. What am I saying? We don’t have a relationship. This will all be over in a few days. Oh, man, leaving him behind is going to be really difficult.
If Brittany had been a fly on the wall in Duncan’s cabin, she would have felt some sense of reassurance, and she would also have been very surprised.
Duncan had a nanny cam. The small camera had been traveling with him since he’d been the victim of theft on a previous cruise. He zipped through the footage late every night, checking on the staff, making sure they weren’t opening drawers they had no business opening, and he had been replaying the footage of her sneaking into his cabin.
Watching her lurking in his cabin was making him chuckle, especially when she discovered she couldn’t fit behind the armoire. Clearly her break-in had been completely spontaneous, giving credence to her explanation of why she’d done it.
As he watched her duck out on to the patio he shook his head; it was almost endearing. The footage ended when he walked in and turned it off, and deciding to save it for posterity and share it with her at some point in the future, he downloaded it to his computer before deleting it from the camera.
Turning his attention to the evening ahead, he moved across to the dining table. He’d ordered white roses for the centerpiece, and two white tapered candles. Dom Perignon champagne was chilling in an ice bucket, two, cut glass crystal goblets were waiting to be filled, and a bouquet of one dozen white and yellow roses in an art glass vase was out of sight in his bedroom,
As a barrister Duncan enjoyed a reputation of sparing no expense, nor leaving any stone unturned when it c
ame to defending a client, or litigating a case. His fees were high, but those who could afford him received the best representation money could buy.
So it was in his personal life. He did not hold back, he did not play cat and mouse games; he made his feelings known, but staring at his impulsive purchases he felt a slight reticence.
What am I doing? It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this…thing…for a woman. Do I want to immediately shower her with all this? Should I? Am I being too impetuous? Yes, it’s the right thing. Soon we’ll be apart, I must seize the moment.
He had no doubt Brittany would be thrilled, but would probably ask him some surprising questions. Brittany was full of surprises; it was one of the qualities he found so captivating.
At 7 p.m. her gentle knock announced her arrival, and after quickly lighting the candles he opened his door. Dressed in a shimmering emerald green, low cut, knee length, silk cocktail dress, and white and green glossy high heels, he thought she looked stunning. A string of pearls graced her neck, and she’d parted her hair on the side, causing it to fall coquettishly across one eye.
“You are exquisite,” he smiled, taking her hand and kissing it softly.
“Thank you,” she smiled, the shadow of a blush crossing her face, “and you look so handsome,” amazing in fact, just like James Bond.
Duncan had opted for dark suit, a sharp white shirt, and a bow tie with a barely discernible streak of purple; it was an outfit he would have chosen to wear to an elegant dinner party in London.
“I have champagne chilling, and not the sparkling wine we shared this morning. Dom Perignon, and a very good year I might add.”
He ushered her forward, but when Brittany saw the beautifully set table she stopped, delightfully surprised by the elegant setting he’d arranged.
“Duncan, this is gorgeous,” she exclaimed, “no-one has ever gone to so much trouble for me.”
“More’s the pity,” he announced. “I want you to feel appreciated, and I want you to know how special I think you are.”
“But, I’m not special,” she frowned. “I’m just a southern girl from a nothing town with dreams I’m too afraid to-”
THE STRICT BRITISH BARRISTER: ACT ONE Page 6