The Burlington Manor Affair

He took advantage of her brief pause and flattened her to the bed.

Before she had the chance to even wonder what he might do, the back of her skirt was lifted, and she felt his hand on her bottom. Hard.

Carmen yelped.

He spanked her again.

Her buttock stung. She tried to pull away.

“Facedown!”

She was about to deny him when the sting in her flesh turned into pleasure, the afterburn setting loose a heady sexual thrill. Her sex throbbed with longing, the pulse in her clit beating wildly.

“Carmen,” he warned.

She did as instructed, staying facedown.

“That’s better.” He delivered another slap.

She groaned. Reaching out, she closed her fingers around the struts of the headboard.

“You really do have the most gorgeous arse.” He slapped it again.

“It won’t be gorgeous by the time you’ve finished with it,” she blurted, unable to hold back the words.

He paused and she could feel the tension in him. “The way you’re wriggling about is quite the turn-on. It’s like you can’t get enough of being spanked and want me to see how much it’s turning you on.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, wondering how she’d ever manage to endure the humiliation. But it was true; she was turned on by it, vividly so.

He slapped her again, and again, this time catching the underside of her buttock and the top of her thigh. The shock made her cry out. She panted, her whole nether region aflame. Heat shot through her from the points of contact, each strike connecting with that place at her center—the place where she craved his thrusts. Pleasure, pain and shame quickly engulfed her.

Moaning loudly, she arched her back, anticipating the next smack.

He changed his tactics and stroked the underside of her buttocks instead, his fingers making brief, maddening contact with her swollen sex.

While he toyed with her, running his fingers over her burning buttocks, the heat spread out, heightening the arousal she felt. Her breasts were tight, nipples hard against her bra. Her thighs were damp. She could smell the aroma of her own desire.

His fingers moved lower, pressing against her swollen, sensitive folds until he reached her clit. When he touched her through her panties, she panted aloud.

“You need a little relief, or so it seems,” he commented. He tugged her undies off.

Carmen rolled helplessly on the bed as he did so, unable to resist or assist. She was already close. She felt it brimming inside her, burning hot and pulsating. He thrust his thumb inside her while his hand curved over her mound, crushing her clit. When he rocked his hand, she bore down on it, moving frantically, desperate for release. Her body was so wired that she reached orgasm moments later, crying out as she came.

Then he was on the bed behind her, pushing her legs farther apart with a demanding knee. Cool air ran over her inflamed sex. Then she heard the rip of a condom wrapper. Her core clenched in expectation.

He slapped her on the buttock and positioned her hips, pulling her onto her hands and knees. That action—so brief, so commanding—made her weak. She was still swaying when he opened her up with two fingers and thrust his cock inside her.

“Rex,” she cried out in relief, suddenly filled with him.

He pulled her hips hard onto him, lifting her physically, his cock buried deep. Every bit of her was singing out with pleasure at his penetration.

When his hands moved over her tender, inflamed buttocks she grasped at the headboard to stop the world spinning.

Pinning her there, he stayed still.

“You’re mine for a month,” he told her, “and I will not endure any submissive of mine defying or subverting any of my instructions or needs. Not one.”

The very tone of his voice had her close to coming again. She tried to move, tried to respond to the pressure he was maintaining inside her, but he wouldn’t let her.