Seven Scarlet Tales (16 page)

God, what a pair of geeks, Lucy thought, exasperated now. Spanking geeks. The worst kind.

‘It’s more a tawse than a strap, though, isn’t it? With the split tail. I thought they were pretty fierce. Never used one myself,’ Rob disclaimed.

‘It’s not the same thickness as a classic tawse, and it’s more supple. It’ll sting rather than pack a real punch. You’ll see her bum turn slowly red, but there won’t be bruising or welts.’

‘Nothing better than watching a bum turn slowly red,’ said Rob appreciatively.

Lucy begged to differ. Well, she didn’t beg out loud, because she knew exactly where that would get her, but she thought about it.

‘Perhaps you’d do the honours with the camera,’ suggested Richard.

‘Glad to. Totally.’

Rob came to stand on the other side of her.

‘Do you mind?’ he said.

‘Go ahead.’

She felt Rob’s hand on her bottom, stroking it gently, over the curve and downwards, his fingers dancing delicately on her inner thigh.

‘What’s good about this,’ said Richard, ‘is that she’s already come twice. I think it hurts more when she isn’t very aroused to begin with. I sometimes make her come before I punish her for that very reason.’

‘That’s a very good point,’ said Rob. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

‘I think this weekend is going to be very productive. We’re learning a lot from each other already.’

Lucy grimaced. This was the kind of information she felt didn’t really need sharing.

‘OK,’ said Rob, stepping back. ‘I’ve got the camera set up. I think we’re ready to go.’

‘Lucy,’ said Richard. ‘I’m going to ask you to count in the usual way. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, sir.’

At last it was going to start. The sooner it started the sooner it would be over with.

The first stroke lashed down, catching her under the curve of her bottom, snapping sparks from her skin. It stung, but it was a pain she always relished, a kind of sharp, exquisite tang. It was there and gone in a second and it took its time to build up into a sustained burn.

‘One, sir, thank you, sir.’

‘We didn’t decide how many, did we?’ said Richard, laying on the second.

‘Two, sir, thank you, sir. No, sir.’

He laid two more very quickly, so that she had to count them together.

‘How many do you think, Lucy?’

There was a form answer to this question.

‘As many as you think necessary, sir. Ow! Five sir, thank you, sir.’

‘That’s right. So I’m considering this now.’

The sixth stroke was very hard, right across the centre of her bottom. She rocked a little and curled her toes, but breathed through it.

‘Given that the situation is novel,’ he said, after she had counted, ‘I’m inclined towards leniency. However, you
transgressed not once, but twice, so I think I should take that into account, too.’

The seventh stroke sizzled, heating up the tender skin at the tops of her thighs. She made a curious cross between a yowl and a whimper.

‘Seven, sir, thank you, sir.’

‘I’m going to stop at twenty,’ he said. ‘Although I know you can take a lot more. But we have the whole weekend ahead of us and, for that reason, I don’t want to peak too soon. Two whole days with your bottom at our disposal. I don’t think we’ll be able to resist making the most of it, do you, Rob?’

‘I’m pretty sure we won’t.’

Lucy pushed her bum out. Twenty was nothing, with that relatively lightweight strap. Not that it didn’t burn and sting like buggery – every stroke felt like one more than she could take. But she knew how far she could go and it was substantially beyond twenty with the strap. That would barely get her into subspace. In a way, this was crueller than a thorough thrashing. But, of course, there would be more to come …

Strokes eight, nine and ten were teasing flicks on and between her thighs. She hated it when he did that, but his aim was uncannily accurate, and he was always able to create the maximum discomfort with the minimum effort.

Halfway through now, with the camera flashing away like a strobe light.

‘Have you ever whipped her pussy?’ Richard asked, taking a half-time break of half a minute or so, rubbing her bottom to keep it properly sensitised. He didn’t want to numb her. He made sure she felt every nuance of that punishing leather.

‘Yeah, well, not whipped so much. I’ve spanked it with my hand.’

‘She absolutely hates it,’ Richard confided. ‘I’ve a small, very thin strap that I use. It never fails to make her sob.’

‘Really? I’ve only done it to warm her up a bit. Maybe you’ll have to show me how you do it later on.’

Please don’t
. But the thought turned Lucy on and she hoped she’d find herself, in due course, lying with her legs wide open while Richard reddened her poor spread lips, making her gasp every time a stroke caught the tip of her clit. It was horribly painful, but the heightened arousal afterwards was out of this world.

But for now, her bottom was in the line of fire, and the second half of her punishment was laid on with steady, sustained force. It could only have lasted a minute, if that, but to Lucy it seemed to take forever. The room rang with the crack of the strap and her answering grunt, then her increasingly feeble-voiced count.

Her legs began to tremble, perhaps because she knew the end was near and she had given herself tacit permission to lose control. Having slipped her grip on herself, she began to wail after the next five strokes, and twist her hips.

‘Stay still,’ Richard warned her. ‘You don’t want this wrapping around.’

No, she didn’t. She’d learned that lesson the hard way. Too much dancing around and trying to get out of the way of the strap resulted in its landing in an even more painful spot than her bottom. Back in her early days, she’d sometimes tried to shield herself with her hands, but a few smart strokes to her errant palms had cured her of that impulse.

Now she knew that her best way of making it through a punishment was to do as she was told and maintain her
position. Bottoms were sensitive, but far less so than other body parts. In this, as in every maddening thing, her doms knew best.

The last three strokes nearly broke her, placed one on top of the other so that she cried out for mercy on the final fall of the strap.

A pointless time to beg for it, she reflected, but she couldn’t help herself.

Both Richard and Rob found the irony amusing, Rob cooing with fake sympathy.

‘Poor Lucy,’ he said. The camera clicked. ‘God, her arse looks fantastic. You haven’t missed a spot.’

‘Thanks. I can be a bit anal about it, actually. I have to have the perfect shade and the perfect coverage and so on. I’m even worse with the cane. If one stroke goes awry, it puts me out and I have to try again once the marks have faded.’

‘I think doms are allowed to be anal,’ said Rob.

‘Boom boom,’ said Richard.

Lucy grinned, despite the sweat on her face and the still-throbbing state of her backside. It was over and she had survived.

She awaited permission to break her position, but it didn’t come.

‘Actually,’ said Richard, ‘speaking of anal …’

She clenched.

Did Richard mean to take her arse in front of Rob? How utterly humiliating, rude and debasing. In other words, what a turn-on.

She made a little sigh of trepidation.

‘What’s that, slut?’ said Richard, giving her sore bottom an extra smack. ‘Don’t you think I have the right to use you as I see fit?’

His low voice, always slightly menacing, even in jest, made her shiver.

‘Of course you do, sir,’ she whispered. ‘It’s just that—’

‘Go on?’

‘I’m embarrassed, sir.’

He laughed. ‘So you should be. You’re about to show your other master just what a shameless little bum-slut you are. Though I’m sure he knows it.’

‘Oh yes,’ confirmed Rob. ‘She loves it, no doubt about it.’

‘And I think I’ve earned it,’ said Richard. ‘Rob, there’s a tube of lubricant in my inside jacket pocket. Could you fish it out for us?’

Lucy had to resign herself. There was no way she was getting out of this without safewording. And besides, her tired clit was swelling back into vibrant life at the thought; her spanked thighs were steamy with heat.

There was nowhere to hide. Both these men knew her well. Every dirty secret she had was in their possession. There was no chance of pretending to be a coy flower now. The difficulty for her was that one knew things that the other didn’t, and now everything was going to be laid completely bare. She would never be allowed to forget it.

‘Keep that position,’ instructed Richard, coming closer.

She wanted to stand, to stretch her spine and still the trembling of her knees, but that was going to have to wait. Richard’s hand, with lubricated fingers, slipped between the scorched cheeks into the hot furrow.

‘You’ve already had Rob’s fingers up here tonight,’ he said softly, circling and probing. ‘He knows you love to be filled.’ One slippery finger slipped in, followed by another, stretching her.

She concentrated hard on not clenching, breathing,
keeping open and relaxed. Her pussy itched now, longing for some attention on its own account.

‘Especially after a strapping,’ said Richard. ‘You spread your cheeks without thinking twice when they’re good and hot, don’t you?’

‘Yes, sir.’ An agonised gasp.

The fingers speared and scissored, preparing their territory.

‘I think what would make this special,’ said Richard, ‘what would make this different, would be for Rob to sit in front of you and watch your face while I’m having your arse.’

‘Ooh, no,’ wailed Lucy. ‘Please.’

But Rob was there, kneeling down in front of the stool, and his smile was more encouraging than cruel. He put his hands on top of hers, holding her there.

‘You can do this,’ he said. ‘Do it for me. And Richard,’ he added swiftly. Lucy had to assume that Richard had just given him A Look.

‘Sometimes I don’t let her come after a punishment,’ said Richard. ‘For the rest of the day. She hates that. Don’t you, Lucy?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Anal sex is best for that, I find. OK.’

He removed his fingers and she heard him getting rid of the lower portion of his clothing.

Rob, his eyes furtive, gave her a swift kiss on the lips.

‘Good girl,’ he whispered.

For some reason, this made her feel even more exposed and small. Rob approved of her having anal sex with another man in front of him. She really was in a foreign place, away from all the cosy concepts of love and romance she’d grown up with.

Sometimes it scared her.

Richard penetrated her with his usual slow consideration, but she wished he’d just shove it in and take it fast. Every moment with Rob’s eyes upon her, watching her take a cock inside her tight, sore bum was excruciating. Not physically: she was used to the discomfort, the sharp moment of pain and then the strange fullness. But she couldn’t meet his eye and tried to blank him out of her consciousness, shutting her eyes to him.

As if Richard could see this, he said, ‘Look at Rob. Look at your master. Let him see you getting fucked.’

‘I can’t,’ she gasped, and Richard stopped after one hard thrust and held himself inside her to the hilt.

‘I beg your pardon?’ he said, taking hold of her hair, pulling her head up.

‘You can,’ said Rob. ‘Look at me, Lucy. I’m ordering you to.’

The relief of having no choice flooded through her, raising her eyelids swiftly.

It had to be done. She would do it.

‘Is she looking?’ asked Richard.

‘Yes.’

‘Right. Now, let me fuck this tight little arse.’

This he proceeded to do, in big, salutory thrusts, making it clear to her that he owned the narrow space he occupied and would do what he wanted in it.

She looked at Rob, who maintained an almost unblinking stare throughout, her vision blurring as the thrusts became ever stronger, an extra punishment, adding to and augmenting the existing pain in her bottom.

She wanted him to touch her clit, or to be allowed to touch it herself, but she didn’t think Richard had that in mind for
her tonight. He was putting on a show of dominance, and she suspected it was more for Rob’s benefit than hers.

If Rob objected, he didn’t seem about to say so.

He looked so grave and stern. When he smiled, you couldn’t possibly imagine that he had this expression in him and yet here it was, keeping her in her place better than a hundred shackles and straps.

She took the pain for love, took the humiliation for love, took everything either of these men had to give her for love, love, love.

Richard grabbed her hair and pulled hard, then he came, hot and steamy inside her, filling her.

Rob crouched closer, stroked her damp cheek, whispered, ‘Good girl.’

Her wobbling arms collapsed beneath her and she accepted Richard’s full weight on her back as she folded her body over the stool seat.

‘Well,’ said Rob, after a mingling of grunts and pants that drowned out the hammering rain on the window panes. ‘Shall I open another bottle?’

The three of them nestled on the sofa, in various states of undress, covered in blankets, sipping at their wine.

In the middle, Lucy was cradled by two arms, her head on Rob’s shoulder, while Richard stroked her feet.

‘Am I crazy,’ she said, yawning, ‘or is this a really promising start to the weekend?’

‘Both,’ said Rob at once, and she flicked at his chest.

Richard’s laugh was redolent of red wine and relaxation.

‘I’m having all kinds of ideas,’ he said. ‘How about you, Rob?’

‘Oh yes, I’m full of sadistic creativity tonight. For instance, I’m thinking we ought to send Lucy outside naked in the rain to collect the eggs from the henhouse tomorrow morning.’

Richard took up the theme. ‘Yeah, but she can wear her wellies. Nothing else. You like rubber, don’t you, Lucy?’

‘Not that kind,’ she said, stretching out between her two bookend lovers. ‘I did bring my latex spanking skirt though.’

‘Oh, God, I love that thing,’ enthused Rob. ‘Have you seen it, Richard?’

‘More than once. She was with me when she bought it, actually. I remember her modelling it in the changing room of the shop. I had to test drive it, you see. Make sure it worked.’