Page 55 of Pride, Prejudice & Wicked Pleasure

“Do you wish to continue?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said without equivocation.

She gave a loud grunt when the leather tails struck her. She had lost count. How many remained? She hoped fewer than five.

As if reading her mind, he said, “You have but eight more.”

Eight more. She groaned. The next blow was the hardest yet. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, and she gripped the bedclothes beneath.

“Have you ever been punished in such a manner?” he inquired after another smack.

Six more. She had but six more.

“Do you truly ask in earnest?” she murmured in disbelief. “Have you?”

“You answer my question with two of your own.”

“I have never been struck in the whole of my life.” She was curious to know his history. “And you?”

“Once, as a boy, I received the tawse across my hands.”

“And that is all?”

“An instructor cannot administer that which he himself has not received. For an instructor to apply a punishment, he must understand it intimately.”

She tried to imagine a grown and virile man receiving a lashing across his bare bottom. The imagery stirred the heat within her.

He brushed his hand over her derrière. “How do you enjoy your punishment thus far?”

Again he posed a nonsesensical question. “Not at all. Do you expect that I should answer in the affirmative?”

“Many enjoy a good whipping and beg for more.”

She scoffed, then moaned for his fingers slid along the copious moisture collected between her legs.

“Do you wish to be spanked further?”

She groaned. “Only because you have offered a reward. Ah!”

The tawse bit into her rump.

“Stay still,” he commanded, “or the tawse may land where I do not intend.”

She braced herself for the remaining five strikes. She hoped he would be quick.

“Ah!” she cried out again.

Four remained.

He stroked the tawse over the burn.

“Ahhh…”

Three.

She waited in dread for the next blow, but it did not come.

“Please,” she gasped.