Bouquet of Bamboo

Bouquet of Bamboo
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ISBN:  9781907753756
Author:  Sarah Steel
Word Count:  65,813
Binding:  eBook

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Ariadne squealed, reaching back in an effort to cup and protect her scalding cheeks.
   'Hands back across the desk, young lady,' the dean ordered sternly. 'No, right across. Further...'
   Ariadne's fumbling fingers sought, and found, the desk's far edge. She gripped, swallowing hard as her stomach stretched and her breasts moulded against the unyielding wood, threatening to burst free from her straining bra. At her ankles her stretched panties prevented her from kicking her heels to relieve the pressure.
   The dean maintained a meditative silence...
 
Bamboo is a beautiful wood - more biting than the birch, whippier than the willow wand. So pliant, it spells sharp pain for all punished with the cane. Each searing stroke sounds the serpent's hiss, each crimson weal burns with a fierce bliss. Bamboo bends - as do those doomed for its vicious kiss.
 
For sullen student and village slut alike, no mercy must be shown - their misdeeds discovered, all must come to the cane. Submitting to the strict discipline dispensed by their stern chastisers, and surrendering to their dominants' dark desires, each must bend over, bare-bottomed, to receive their Bouquet of Bamboo...
'Be still, little one. You have been sinful and so must be punished. With all sin must come retribution. Retribution, penance and punishment. Be still, I say, or it will go hard for you, my girl. Very hard, indeed.'
   Despite the stern warning, the girl continued to wriggle and squirm across the lap of her punisher. She felt the firm hand at the nape of her neck tighten as it forced her bowed head even further down. Whimpering, she attempted to toss away the dark fringe of hair curtaining her eyes. She felt the brutal fingers busy at the buttons of her calico under-drawers, and burned red with shame as, swift and sure in their task, they opened and unfurled the flap of soft material covering her bottom.
   'Naughty girl,' the parson murmured, his eyes glinting sharply as they drank in the delightful swell of her plump cheeks. 'No,' his stern voice warned, 'I mean to punish you. Be still.'
   The wriggling ceased and the young woman slumped obediently into silent submission. The parson nodded approvingly and relaxed his fierce grip on the nape of her neck, settling her warm weight across his supporting thighs. Pinned helplessly down, the dark-haired penitent remained mute in her surrender. Her fringe tumbled straight down, covering and hiding the tears in her large, sorrowful eyes.
   Beneath the warmth of her belly, the parson's cock pulsed. The pulse quickened to a throb. He swallowed and closed his eyes. He groaned softly and whispered a hurried prayer. It was the devil at work, the arch tempter. Trying to ignore what he could not deny, he opened his eyes again and resolved to do his duty, which was to punish.
   'Well, Edwina? Come girl, what have you to confess to me?'
   'Nothing, sir, truly, sir,' came the whispered response.
   'Have a care, young lady. Today being the Sabbath, the time for confession has come. Today is the just and fitting occasion for contrition. Tell me of your wrongdoings and I will shrive you of your sins and mete out your penance.' His free hand alighted on the softness of her sweet young buttocks and began firmly massaging their clenched flesh.
   'I have nothing to confess, sir,' she insisted quietly.
   'Nothing?' He increased the pressure of his massaging palm, bunching the captive cheeks slightly as he pressed down more urgently upon the bare bottom he was about to punish. 'Nothing? I think that is not entirely true. Speak of your sins. Come, confess all to me. Confess and be prepared to do full penance.'
   Edwina whimpered, but the parson remained ominously silent - ominously impassive to her distress. He already knew of her misdeeds. His housekeeper - who conscientiously spied on all three of his distant cousins living under his roof - had informed him of it not an hour ago.
   'I am waiting, Edwina. Pray do not add mendacity or insolence to your catechism of woes.'
   'I remember now, sir, there was a mouse,' her words spilled out anxiously, 'but I did not mean to err or sin, sir, Ió'
   'A mouse, you say? What of this mouse?' His flattened palm smoothed the curves of the clenched cheeks in his thrall. He asked, even though Miss Strappleton, his vigilant housekeeper, had told him all about the mouse.
   'A mouse, sir, it was in a trap, a cruel trap. I set it free.'
   'Free, you say?' He lightly skimmed his thumb down between her tightened buttocks. 'How so?'
   'It was so piteous to behold, sir, so I set if free.' It was obvious from her tone she believed she had done nothing wrong, at least as far as the mouse was concerned.
   'Set it free?' he echoed, grimacing sternly even though her position made it impossible for her to see his face. 'Do you know that just such a mouse, set free in my house, can eat through a whole tallow candle every night at a cost of a full farthing to my beleaguered purse? And,' he palmed the soft cheeks with increasing fervour, 'that just such a mouse can nibble through sixpence worth of cheese each week?'
   'I am sorry, sir, I did not know, I am sure. Please do not punish me, sir!'
  'A mouse,' he continued suavely, ignoring her fervent pleading, 'is never a single sorrow to a house, child. They, like all contagion, come in vexing numbers. They are legion.'
   'I thank you for your instruction, sir, and I promise to think hard upon it from this day forth.'
   'Pretty words from a penitent do not postpone just punishment, girl.'
   'No, sir,' she sighed, submitting to her doom.
   'And what else have you to tell me?'
   'Please, sir, nothing, sir...'
   'Nothing else?'
   'I - I'm sure not, sir.' Her soft cheeks hollowed in mounting dread.
   'And are you quite certain of what you say, little one?'
   Edwina nodded vigorously, and across the parson's knee her bare buttocks danced seductively. His cock, now hard, rose and thickened with a sweet ache. He breathed heavily, for the moment staying his spanking hand. His housekeeper had informed him of a theft on the night of the heavy rains, a theft of small coals. The silence grew loud between them, during which she wriggled restlessly across his knees.
   'In a little while from now, your bottom will be hot, girl. Does that word not suggest your misdemeanour to you?'
   Suddenly reminded of her sin, Edwina blurted out the details of her wrongdoing. 'Oh I remember now, sir. I stole small coals and took them up to my bedroom. It was for a cat I found out in the rain all shivering and wet, the poor thing. I brought it up to the fire for creature comfort, sir.'
   'These are not grave errors, child,' the parson concluded aloud. 'Foolish impulses, no more.' He sensed the body across his moleskin breeches relax as she detected the tone of forgiveness in his stern, authoritative voice.
   'Thank you, sir, for your clemency.'
   'You have so very much to learn, child.'
   She snuggled comfortably across his lap, obviously daring to hope the threat of pain and punishment had passed.
   'But even small and slight transgressions have their price and must be paid for in full. Consider, little one. The mouse you set free no doubt ate a good nine pence worth of tallow and cheese, and the small coals stolen to warm the wretched cat add yet another burden to my purse. I have lost a full shilling, girl. Be sure of it. And the cat, to be sure, lived only to catch and kill the mouse.'
   She cried out in dismay.
   'Small sins, but with still some price to pay. They still require some penance from you. Bottom up, my girl, if you will.'
   'No sir, please!' she squealed, stretching back her arms in a frantic effort to cover and protect her naked cheeks.
   'Edwina,' the parson snarled softly, 'you must be subject to my will.'
   'But siró'
   'Give me your bottom, child,' he ordered, his voice a rising growl.
   Timorously, her fingers curled in fearful expectation, the girl drew her hands away before dropping her arms down.
   The parson raised his chastising hand above the tensed cheeks. 'And what do we say for our penance, Edwina?'
   She maintained a sulky silence.
   'Edwina?'
   'Out of your charity, sir, chastise me,' she mumbled sullenly. 'Helpeth me repenteth truly...'
   'And?'
   'And please spank me for my sins...'
   His flattened palm cracked down. The smacking blow rang out harshly as the open hand visited the proffered buttocks, which wobbled slightly after being fleetingly depressed beneath the savage impact. And as he lifted his hand again, the parson noted her buttocks reddening as the stinging pain spread across their satin contours.
   Smack! A second swipe of his unforgiving hand across her suffering flesh made him grunt and wince as his stiff cock poked up into her tummy. She jerked in response to the second blow, but the pinioning hand planted on her neck forced her to submit absolutely to his will and purpose.
   Smack! Smack! The jiggling cheeks bounced as they suffered a sharp double blow from the parson's punishing palm. She twisted in a desperate effort to escape the scalding agony, but only succeeded in causing her bottom cleft to part lewdly.
   Grunting his suppressed pleasure on espying the dark path between the crimsoning hillocks, the parson swiftly drew the knee of his moleskin sheathed right leg in against the trembling thighs to further confine and tame them. 'Now you are trapped, my little mouse,' he rasped hoarsely, breathing hard with mounting excitement as well as from exertion. 'Now you shall do full and most deserved penance for your foolish, girlish sins.' He swept his durable palm down four times in swift succession, stinging and scalding the helpless bottom swelling out of the unbuttoned calico drawers. The furious flurry of chastising spanks left his hand tingling and his victim's buttocks ablaze. As the punished cheeks grew hotter their blush of pain and shame burned brighter, and as the blush burned brighter and deeper, the shrill cries issuing from the lips of the writhing penitent grew louder in agonised protest.
   Bucking yet again in response to a particularly savage blow, Edwina thrust her scorching bottom up. Tense and swelling in the grip of fierce pain, her cheeks threatened to burst out of their calico frame.
   The parson gasped sharply, troublesomely thrilled by the delicious contrast afforded by the white fabric surrounding the crimson of the punished flesh. As her hips rose and her spine arched seductively, her buttocks quivered and her cleft became a sharp crease before suddenly parting. He caught his breath as he spied, deep down in the shadowy space between the spanked cheeks, her tiny pink anus winking. 'Eye of Satan, turn thy gaze from me!' he shouted, gripping the two cheeks he had so thoroughly chastised and squeezing their scalded domes viciously. The pink rosebud of her anal whorl disappeared, and swallowing hard, he brought his hand up to wipe his fevered brow.
   Across his fierce erection, grinding her belly down innocently onto its thrusting tip, Edwina sobbed softly in her blazing shame. The cruel fingers of her chastiser relented, relaxing their savage grip at her cheeks. Then, as though ordained to punish the very source and fount of all wickedness and sinfulness in the world, the parson arced his hand down again, and again.
   'Let me hear your atonement, little one,' he commanded, a full five minutes after the final blow rang out. A full five minutes during which the palm sweeping smoothly across her hot cheeks formed a fist to knuckle her moist cleft.
   Innocently riding the parson's erection, the punished girl craned her head around to gaze up at her stern punisher. 'Thanks be all thine, sir, for the penance you so kindly and in all justice meted out to me,' she whispered huskily, and then lowering her face to his thigh, her dry lips kissed the moleskin obediently...
Average Rating (2 Reviews):  
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Rating:  
A Great Collection of CP Stories
Monday, 26 July 2010  | 

This collection of eight substantial stories has the salutary correction of errant females as its common theme, and the instrument of choice for this purpose is normally a length of wood such as is specified by the book's title, although the stories are hardly short of invention on this score. The stories manage to cover M/F, F/M and F/F situations, and they are not without humour. The usual authority figures are involved: aunts, a parson, the lady of the manor, a scholastic dean, prefects, but always in an unexpected manner, sometimes receiving, sometimes dispensing. An interesting collection.


Rating:  
Great as usual
Monday, 14 December 2009  | 

Sarah Steel is one of my favourite erotica authors and Chimera's Bouquet of Bamboo is another great example of her work.


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