Equally Painful Consequences

Equally Painful Consequences
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ISBN:  9781780803890
Author:  Alison North
Word Count:  72,947
Format:  eBook



Painful ConsequencesPainful Consequences

Six more strokes followed, laid with all his strength, cracking down across the ripeness of her buttocks in only a matter of seconds, making her shriek and wail just as before. Now her whole bottom was prettily decorated with raised welts. Thick welts that started exactly along the line of the sweet little crease that demarked buttocks from thighs and then ran all the way up to the top of each cheek. White goose bumps adorned each pulsating welt, a testament to the heat the cane had engendered...

Equally Painful Consequences follows on from where Painful Consequences left off, the second collection of erotic spanking stories from Alison North chronicling various tales of painful erotic correction.

Terry raised the cane high above his head, carefully taking aim. 'That would be a very welcome change,' he muttered grimly. 'Let's see if - for once in your life - this helps you to do just that.'
   The cane fell six times in rapid succession, cracking down noisily across fleshy bare cheeks, and making her writhe her hips and howl up at the ceiling in pain and outraged indignation whilst tears leaked out of her eyes. Terry gazed with delight at the thick red welts that had been raised, as if by magic, right across the widest part of her invitingly upturned bottom. Each welt positively burst with colour and life. Each was well over a quarter of an inch in height and so suffused that there was no mistaking the agony they were causing. The cane had risen and fallen with so little effort, he thought to himself, yet in a space of a mere six seconds or so her cheating bare bottom had already been taught a most excruciating lesson. Already it was ablaze. Wriggle her sorely wounded cheeks from side to side as she might, there was no way in the world she was going to be able to cool them. Never could he have achieved a greater sense of euphoria. There was his bare-bottomed wife, spread over the desk in front of him, freshly fucked by her employer, and now in the throes of bitterly regretting that fact. Now in the throes of bitterly regretting every slippery push and prod, every fierce spurt into her womb. There was his wife, howling her eyes out, writhing her bottom in pain, and fervently wishing she'd kept her tight little knickers safely in place throughout her journey home. Yes, there was his bare-bottomed wife, stickily adulterated and fervently wishing she could reverse the process by turning back the clock. There she was, red-faced and red-bottomed after having been caught, red-handed, with another man's sperm still warm inside her. Would he ever, anywhere, experience anything as gratifying as this totally justified act of revenge?
   Teardrops splashed onto the desktop as Terry continued to study his handiwork with ever mounting approval. 'Ohhhhhh!' she sobbed uncontrollably, twisting her head back and forth. 'Oh God, that hurts! That really, really hurts! You can't believe how much...'
   'I think I can,' he retorted, before slapping the palm of his hand across the centre of the severely afflicted area as hard as he could.
   'Owwwwww!' she screamed in shocked surprise, jerking back her head and howling up at the ceiling once again. 'Oh God! Oh, please don't do that...!'
   He slapped her three times more. 'That's to remind you that you're only to speak when I ask you a question. Not otherwise. I've told you that already.'
   'I'm sorry...'
   Slap! Slap! Slap! 'Only when I ask you a question,' he snapped. 'Unless you want a few dozen more of the same. Like this, and this, and this!'
   It felt so rewarding that Terry decided to continue with the use of his hand for a while. No one could deny the justice of the punishment he was meting out to his wayward young wife. Not even Leanne.
   Leanne clenched her teeth and gripped the sides of the desk with all her strength as the tears continued to pour out of her eyes. Oh God! Each slap of his hand felt like a further six strokes from the cane...
   Terry waited until the heavy sobbing had slowly begun to subside. 'When was the last time he screwed you before tonight?' he asked, making her twitch in fear as he tapped the cane against the mass of seething welts.
   Her knuckles were white because of the way she was still gripping the desk so tightly. 'About a month ago,' she whispered nervously, tears trickling down her face onto the desk.
   'Tell me about it.'
   'It was in his office. The day after you spanked me for wearing this skirt.'
   'Which day? I spanked you two evenings running for wearing it.'
   'After the first time.'
   'Go on.'
   'I told him what you'd done.'
   'And he wanted to see the results for himself, so I showed him, just for a giggle. It made him want to have me there and then...'
   'So he did?'
   'From behind, I assume?'
   'Yes, bent over the top of a filing cabinet.'
   'Just the once?'
   'No. Once in the morning, and then again when it was time to leave off...'
   'So, the last time I spanked this randy little arse it had been on the job with Tommy just a few minutes beforehand. And also a few hours before that. Just as it was on the job with him less than an hour ago.'
   'Yes. I'm really sorry, Terry.'
   Terry continued to glare down at the beautifully sculpted cheeks across the fleshiest part of which the cane had so cruelly left its mark, and experienced a strange mixture of emotions - anger combined with intense sexual arousal. He stared at the six hot welts he'd raised so easily. Why on earth did the knowledge of her infidelity give him this weird sense of excitement? This twisted sort of pleasure? Was it some form of masochistic delight derived from a wounded pride of possession?
   Well, whatever the reason, this unfaithful bare bottom was going to be far more sorely wounded than his pride of possession could ever be. Far, far more sorely wounded. As she was just about to discover...
   Six more strokes followed, laid with all his strength, cracking down across the ripeness of her buttocks in only a matter of seconds, making her shriek and wail just as before. Now her whole bottom was prettily decorated with raised welts. Thick welts that started exactly along the line of the sweet little crease that demarked buttocks from thighs and then ran all the way up to the top of each cheek. White goose bumps adorned each pulsating welt, a testament to the heat the cane had engendered. Across the high point of each cheek three strokes had been laid slap-bang on top of each other, causing a hugely enhanced swelling that Terry found a joy to behold.
   Terry rested the cane lightly across the fleshy fullness of her bottom and continued to stare at the succulent cheeks of which he'd always been so proud, yet so jealous and suspicious. Jealous and suspicious with just cause, he'd now at long last discovered. Suspicion was one thing, but knowing for certain of their wanton misbehaviour, that was quite another.
   It was incredibly rewarding to see how well he'd already imposed his vengeance upon the cheeks of her cheating bottom. Cheeks so steeped in recent adultery that its stigma was almost a physical thing. Now they were far from their former selves. Their impertinent perfection was already a thing of the past. Now, as they trembled and shook in fear and pain, each cheek bore the most magnificent hallmark of his retribution right across it. And the hallmark was going to grow. It was going to treble in intensity. Twenty-four more lines were going to be added. Twenty-four more intolerably hot, painful lines, most of which would crisscross one or more of the others, thereby doubling or tripling the effect. Twenty-four more lines that would emphasise to her the nature and extent of his authority and his conjugal rights. Twenty-four lines that would emphasise the nature and extent of his ownership of those parts he was now putting to the torch so effectively.
   Yes, when it was over it would be a sight that would remain with him for the rest of his life. This pert bottom bare and burnt alive before his eyes. This pert bottom - which during twelve years of courtship and marriage had tormented his soul through his constant fear of its infidelity - squirming in agony at the way in which it had been so extensively, and justifiably, blistered by the cane.
   But at the moment it was time for several more hard slaps, in order to emphasise to her the hurt the cane had already inflicted...
   The hand spanking was over, Leanne was weeping in silence, and Terry was once again holding the cane across the fullest part of her brightly striped cheeks. 'So, last month he had you twice in one day at the office?'
   'Yes...' she only just managed to sniff.
   'After studying what I'd done to you the night before?'
   'When you told him your bottom had been spanked, did you guess he'd want to see the results?'
   'And you knew what that would make him want to do to you?'
   'So you decided to get your own back on me by ensuring that Tommy would want to fuck you. Is that right?'
   Leanne took a deep breath. Now was the time to start showing him she was prepared to hold nothing back. 'Yes, but there's a bit more to it than that.'
   'Go on.'
   'I told Tommy I'd also be suffering the same fate again later that evening, for daring to wear this skirt yet again. I said that I must be entitled to at least two good stiff dickings from him in order to compensate, and he agreed with me. Then he gave them to me, one in the morning and one when it was time to go home. It was fun. You know how a sore bottom always makes me feel extra randy. I hope you can see that I'm trying to be completely honest with you, Terry?'
   'Is that why you wore this skirt for the fourth day running, even though you knew you'd get another walloping if I found out? You wanted to get Tommy to give you two helpings of cock, not just one?'
   'Yes, I'm afraid that's right. Actually, I hoped I'd be able to get home before you and pretend I'd worn something else. But Tommy kept me busy much longer than I'd expected. He was very worked up...'
   Terry began to stroke the cane back and forth over the contusions he'd raised across each pouting cheek, causing her to shudder and wince. He was taking his time and relishing the thought that so far he'd scarcely started. So far he'd only administered two of the six of the six of the best. A further twenty-four searing strokes were still to come.
   Six more fleshy cracks, like shots from a rifle, accompanied by tears and screeches of pain and outrage. And six more scorching welts to add to the existing twelve. Three of the new ones had been added to the engorged swellings he'd previously raised across her bottom, so that these giant blemishes were now the product of six strokes on top of each other.
   Leanne gritted her teeth and gripped the sides of the desk with all her might. Oh God! She was well and truly ablaze! She was really, really on fire. Her poor bottom was a raging inferno. He'd poured petrol all over it and set it alight with a match. It throbbed and burned in a manner she'd never thought possible. And there were still eighteen more strokes to follow! How was she ever going to get through it?

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