Hard Strokes

Hard Strokes
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ISBN:  9781780803777
Author:  B. A. Bradbury
Word Count:  75,093
Format:  eBook

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Obliged to BendObliged to Bend
Their Master's PleasureTheir Master's Pleasure
BondmaidenBondmaiden
Planet of PainPlanet of Pain
The RescueThe Rescue

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I saw her gather herself. I drew back my arm and swiped her hard across the buttocks, the crack of leather against flesh loud in the still room. She flinched at the blow, but made not a sound. Brave though she assuredly was I knew she wouldn't remain silent for long, since a heavy tawse wielded with conviction will test the mettle of even the most courageous. Silence would give way to gasps, and gasps to groans, though it would go no further than that. There would be no shrieking and certainly no blubbering, for my governess was made of sterner stuff.

Obliged To Bend introduced James Montague, Victorian gentleman of leisure and master spanker. Their Master's Pleasure described his continuing adventures. Now, in Hard Strokes, comes the concluding part of James's story.

With his sweet young wards, their governess Irene Hammond and a houseful of maids in need of constant discipline, life for James has grown rather hectic. Cane, strap and paddle have never been busier, in fact, yet he cannot afford to relax, for fresh victims soon arrive on the scene - women from the village guilty of various misdemeanours, his former maid-of-all-work, Polly, and a beautiful but rash young woman who foolishly tries to rob him. Has the master of Bleekston Hall bitten off more than he can chew, or will his strong right arm rise to the challenge?
Next through the door was Victoria, my red-headed ward. Though she lacked her older sister's great beauty, Victoria's features seemed pleasing enough to me. She possessed innumerable freckles, it's true, and there was a fullness to her figure some might find excessive, but to me these were no great calamities. Indeed, I liked her just the way she was: soft, plump and forever in trouble.
   'I find no less than three entries in the punishment book for you this week, Victoria,' I said, frowning to show my displeasure. 'The two awarded for careless work in class are bad enough, but the third, for insubordination to your governess, is entirely unforgivable.'
   She stood before me, head bowed and hands clasped behind her back, the very picture of contrition. I wasn't fooled for a moment, however, for this was a scene we played out all too often. Victoria would sin - deliberately, I was sure - I would berate and spank her soundly for it, after which she would insist upon intimate physical 'consolation'. And when it came to sexual gratification, the little hussy was entirely lacking in morals and utterly insatiable.
   'Do you have anything to say in your defence?' I rumbled. 'Some excuse to offer, perhaps?'
   'No, uncle,' she said. 'I'm very sorry, uncle - I'll try to be good in future, honestly I will. Though I do think Mrs Hammond picks on me sometimes. All I said wasó'
   'I know perfectly well what you said, Victoria; it's right here in black and white. You refused to take part in the spelling test as, and I quote: "they're a complete waste of time", unquote.'
   'Well they are. I hate writing letters, so why should it matter if I can spell?'
   'Whether you hate it or love it is immaterial; correspondence will be a fact of life when you come of age and have charge of your own affairs. Being able to spell correctly is an essential skill if you wish to be taken seriously.'
   Though she looked unconvinced, all that was about to change, for I had an idea how I might spice up her punishment. I sent her to the cabinet that held my day collection - a modest but useful selection of canes, straps, lashes and so forth - to fetch the heavy tawse. Made of thick, hard leather, this fearsome short strap could inflict an astonishing amount of pain in the right hands.
   'Over my knee, Victoria,' I said. 'Be sure to make yourself comfortable, for I fear we may be here a while.'
   She looked rather down in the mouth at that. Though she relished the dalliance that invariably followed a punishment, my middle ward derived no pleasure whatsoever from the spanking itself. Knowing that any delay would earn her extra strokes, however, she immediately lay face down across my lap. I pushed up her skirts and petticoats to reveal fetching white bloomers trimmed prettily with lace, then drew these down to reveal something even more delightful: her round, creamy-white bottom. Closer observation revealed faint yellow bruising along with the freckles.
   'The marks of last week's punishment are almost gone,' I observed. 'Refresh my memory - what was your crime?'
   'Spilling gravy on the tablecloth, Uncle James.'
   'Ah, yes, I remember now: a dozen with the medium cane, wasn't it? And afterwards as I fingered your crack you wriggled like an eel, uttering words in your climax I never thought to hear from the lips of a refined young lady.'
   As I spoke I stroked her buttocks and slapped them gently to see them quiver. She was putting on weight, I was sure of it, but I had no complaints on that score. Finally I parted her thighs, eliciting a soft murmur of acquiescence and a backward tilt of the hips. This instinctive movement to afford me better access to her groin made me smile. My wards - delightful young women all - were so very different in looks and temperament, but indubitably Victoria was the trollop of the trio.
   I stroked her slit with the tip of my middle finger, which was soon wet with her juices, then spread her labia to expose her clitoris. I spent several minutes attending diligently to that sensitive nub, tickling and rubbing it gently to make her squirm. Sure enough, Victoria was soon performing her eel impersonation once more, wriggling for all she was worth and moaning with utter abandon. No doubt she was hoping I would bring her to climax, but for that treat she would have to wait. First, there was the matter of her punishment.
   'I've decided this will be a Spell-Spank, Victoria,' I said, inventing the name on the spot. 'I'll say a word, which you will then spell. Each mistake will earn you a stroke: the first one medium, the next firm, the third hard. After three failed attempts I'll tell you the correct spelling and start with a fresh word. The punishment ends when you get three words correct in a row. Are we clear on the rules?'
   'I think so, uncle.'
   'Very well,' I said, 'let's begin. Your first word is "sacrilegious".'
   'S-A-C-R-A- oh! S-A-C-R-E- ahhh! S-A-C-R-I-L-I- agghhh!'
   Hardly the most auspicious of starts, but I imagined she was probably nervous and would do better once she'd settled down. Sadly, that proved not to be the case, for in quick succession she made a hash of 'haemorrhage', 'connoisseur' and 'millennium'. As for 'conscientious', her mangled attempts were positively embarrassing.
   After ten minutes I was growing irritated with her and wishing I'd never invented the damn game, to be honest. Her bottom was bright pink from the tawse and growing redder by the minute, but her spelling failed to improve. I switched to easier words, but even 'abyss', 'usury' and so forth defeated her. After twenty minutes irritation was turning to desperation as I realised this spanking might well last till the end of time. I could have given her a ludicrously easy word such as 'him' and 'her', of course, but that would turn the whole thing into a farce. As my grandfather had stressed constantly, spankings must never be trivialised, for that denigrates the noblest art of all, one surely handed down to us by the gods themselves.
   Fortunately, I had an idea. If there was one subject Victoria had studied with anything approaching diligence, it was sex. She would spend hours in the library, looking up rude words in the dictionary and searching the encyclopaedias for articles on human reproduction and sexuality. I'd even allowed her to peruse my private collection of erotic fiction on occasion. Surely, I thought, some of the information must have stuck?
   I tested my theory by trying her with an appropriate word - 'fellatio' - which she spelt correctly, somewhat to my surprise. 'Cunnilingus' was dealt with equally successfully.
   'One more to go,' I said. 'Get this next one right and the punishment is over. Are you ready, Victoria?'
   'Yes, uncle.'
   'Very well; the word is "areolae", plural.'
   'A-R-E-O-L...' She hesitated and I held my breath. 'A-E.'
   I let it out in a sigh of relief. She'd done it, finally, with a modicum of help from her guardian. She didn't move, however, for she was expecting her 'reward' - and though she didn't know it, I had a treat in store for her.
   Through a London dealer in erotica I'd recently acquired a most ingenious device of German origin - a hollow silver phallus that contained within it a compact clockwork mechanism driving an oscillating steel ball. When wound up with the built-in key at the base, this clever toy would vibrate vigorously for a full minute, buzzing all the while like a demented hornet. According to the label on the box, if pressed against a woman's intimate regions, the intense stimulation would create feelings of euphoria. I was naturally keen to try it out - and who better a subject than Victoria, our very own trollop-in-residence?
   As the gadget touched her vulva my ward stiffened and let out a squeal. I immediately desisted, thinking I was harming her, but she begged me breathlessly to continue. I did so, cautiously at first, then growing bolder when I realised it brought her nothing but pleasure. I experimented with the thing, rubbing it against labia and clitoris till she was thoroughly wet, then easing it inside her, to her evident delight. Something else she enjoyed was having the smoothly rounded tip pressed to her anal sphincter, though I made no attempt to breach her back passage.
   Every minute or so I was obliged to stop in order to rewind the device, which proved a source of considerable vexation to Victoria until I discovered it was possible, though certainly not easy, to wind it while it was still vibrating and in use. The young hussy certainly appreciated my efforts, especially when I did the thing she enjoyed best of all - touched the tip to her clitoris and held it there.
   But now it was time to bring her to climax. I slid two fingers into her vagina and began to frig her, keeping the vibrating toy pressed to her clitoris all the while. In no time at all she was squirming in my lap and wailing softly. That's when the notion of a final act of devilment came to me. I switched off the device and stilled the movement of my hand, though my fingers remained inside her.
   'One last word,' I said. 'Spell it correctly and you get your reward. A single wrong letter, however, and the session is over.'
   'Please, Uncle James,' she moaned, 'that's not fair.'
   'Fair or not, Victoria, your fate rests in your own hands. And the word is, appropriately enough - "orgasm".'
   Hardly the most difficult of words, I agree, but given my ward's distracted state nothing was easy. She took a deep breath. 'O-R-G-A-S...' There was a lengthy pause, then she added tentatively, 'M?'
   'Well done!' I chuckled. 'You hesitated so long I feared a second "A" was imminent, or even a "U", heaven help us.'
   'Uncle, please!'
   'I'm sorry, my dear, you're right - I shouldn't tease. Without a doubt you've earned this, Victoria.'
   I set to work with toy and fingers in such a determined fashion that in no time at all she was bucking and sobbing as the climax took her. Afterwards she rolled over in my lap and curled into a ball. I hugged her tight, enjoying the soft feel of her and smiling to myself. Truly, she was a wanton creature.
   'You were right all along, uncle,' she murmured contentedly. 'Being able to spell is a very useful skill indeed.'
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Tuesday, 26 November 2013  | 

B. A. Bradbury is my favorite Chimera author, so I was very happy to see something new by him.


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