Managing Mrs Burton

Managing Mrs Burton
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ISBN:  9781907753893
Author:  Laurel Aspen
Word Count:  58,799
Format:  eBook

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Mastering Mrs BurtonMastering Mrs Burton

Every stroke produced a frantic, immodest weaving of hips and drumming of toes, but Mrs Burton somehow managed to maintain her stance, keeping some shred of decorum as her curvaceous bottom was soundly whipped.
   'Well done,' he said, 'you took that caning very well, now stay exactly where you are and I'll reward your fortitude.'
   'Thank you,' Mrs Burton replied huskily, 'that would be lovely.'

In town and in the country, in offices and suburban semis, women have been getting their first spanking. Reluctantly, hesitantly, sometimes forcibly; some even discovering a taste for further erotic punishment. Perhaps that's why the woman sat next to you on the train is smiling?

Over-confident career women are tamed and petulant young wives receive a stinging comeuppance in this compelling collection of short spanking stories written by Laurel Aspen - who may well have been present at the time...

Already five minutes late for his first appointment of a busy spring morning, James quickly shoved two hours' worth of coins into the parking meter, buzzed the intercom and took the stairs to the third floor of the student halls two at a time.
   A slim female answered his discrete knock at an anonymous door, apparently in her late teens. James made a quick visual appraisal of his client: long fair hair lightened by streaks of silver and blond, some strands plaited with bright ethnic beads, a symmetrically pretty face, turned up nose and young enough to be his daughter. Umm, could be a problem, he thought before flashing a practised smile.
   'Hello, I'm James.'
   'Hi, I'm Kerry. Come in.'
   She waved him into an extremely compact beds, decorated with posters of contemporary pop icons, all totally unfamiliar to him. Whatever happened, James wondered briefly, to Pink Floyd?
   'Kerry, before we begin,' he started, 'please don't think me rude, but could I confirm your age?'
   She smiled ruefully. 'No offence taken, I knew I should have worn make-up. Nineteen, two weeks ago. I could show you my birth certificate?'
   'No, thanks,' James held up his hands in mock surrender. 'That's fine; we might as well start by trusting each other. Now, what did you have in mind?'
   She paused, coloured slightly, and took a deep breath. 'I've never done anything like this before,' she confessed.
   Ever patient, James smiled encouragingly, waiting for her to continue in her own good time.
   'You see, I've been reading these magazines,' Kerry, sitting cross-legged on the single bed, gestured to a small pile of top-shelf CP publications in one corner. 'Amazing how your literary horizons expand when you leave home.' She leant forward, clasping her knees to her chest, her expression earnest and sincere.
   'Well, the idea of being punished turns me on, at least in theory. To tell the truth, I'm not yet very sexually experienced. Despite what you may hear about students it's not all drunken parties; these days most of us are working too earnestly, trying to get grades good enough to secure a well paid job that will pay off our student loans.
   'I mean,' she continued hastily, 'I'm not a blushing virgin or anything, but before introducing any sort of CP into a relationship I'd like to try it in safer circumstances first.'
   James nodded. Her candour was engaging; he couldn't imagine a male being so frank.
   'So you've booked me to provide a taster session. A test run, with no emotional complications. At the risk of sounding patronising, that's a very mature approach.'
   'Oh, thank you for saying so,' Kerry said, favouring him with a beaming grin. 'That's it, exactly. Oh, I am glad you understand. I thought if you could, you know, perhaps spank me first, not too hard, then if I enjoyed it we might progress a bit further - perhaps try, you know, some sort of implement?'
   'Fine by me,' James looked around. 'Although there's hardly room to swing the proverbial cat in here, I'm sure we'll manage,' he added reassuringly then, abruptly changing tone, sternly issued a pre-emptory command. 'Come here, Kerry. At once girl, hurry up.'
   Hands clasped before her, studiously avoiding eye contact, she stood and shuffled slowly towards him. 'Yes sir?' she whispered.
   A natural, thought James. A good few inches shorter than him she wore a sleeveless T-shirt, tucked into faded baggy jeans, tightly cinched around a waif-like waist by a webbing belt. Surely not short of admirers, but would someone her own age have the experience and confidence to take her in hand? James doubted it.
   'Really, this is quite deplorably irresponsible of you,' he said. 'A well brought up girl, inviting strangers to your room. It's high time you were disciplined, my girl.'
   She stood quietly; eyes focused into the middle distance as James reached forward, loosened her belt and slid the jeans down over her hips to revealed a pair of snug white cotton knickers.
   'Naughty girls are never, ever punished over clothes,' he continued sonorously, and for want of much choice sat on the single bed, pulling Kerry, unprotesting, across his lap.
   'This is where your fantasies become reality, young lady. Time for this pretty little bottom to receive a thorough spanking.' Kerry made no reply, but James felt a tremor run through her body as she shifted, attempting to make the unfamiliar position more comfortable, her toes barely touching the floor, her weight light across his knees.
   Smoothing the creases from her underwear his palm unhurriedly explored the flawless skin of her unmarked posterior. Deliberately letting the tension build he softly caressed the soft yielding globes for some minutes, before beginning to spank the proffered cheeks. Easy does it, no hurry.
   To start with James concentrated his efforts on the pale crown of each springy buttock, delighting in the way the firm flesh bounced and rippled beneath his hand. Her upper body supported by the bed, hands cupping her chin, Kerry responded to each ringing slap with tiny exhalations, gasps and groans. Gradually her bottom cheeks turned pink, she squirmed on his lap and the gasps gave way to little cries that mingled anguish and excitement.
   He continued, gradually increasing the area of flesh to feel the sting of contact with his practised palm, until Kerry's entire bottom had received similar treatment and was uniformly red and warm to the touch.
   'How does that feel?' he asked at last.
   'Oooh, it stings, my bottom feels hot all over,' she said uncertainly.
   'Does it hurt?'
   'Yes, but it's a nice hurt.'
   James ran his fingers across the tops of her thighs, traced the line of her perineum beneath the now damp cotton, and felt Kerry press her hips down onto his legs in mute reply. 'Right,' since his palm had begun to smart it was evidently time for a break in proceedings, 'stand up and look in the mirror.' Kerry scrambled to her feet and, twisting round to peer over her shoulder, surveyed his handiwork. Her agitated wriggling had worked her knickers into the cleft of her buttocks, the white material accentuating her burning red backside.
   'Ooh, you cruel man, my poor little bum's so sore,' she pouted. 'Can I rub it, please?'
   'As it's the first time, I think I can permit that,' he consented, flattered that she'd thought to seek his assent. Kerry's left hand urgently began massaging her seared cheeks, but her right sneaked inside the front of her knickers, fingers anxious to ease a quite different sort of ache.
   This was enough to raise more than James' eyebrows. 'What do you think you're doing?' he asked with convincing outrage. 'That spanking's obviously had no effect at all. I shall undoubtedly have to be more severe.'
   'Oh sir, what will you do now?' she wailed.
   No doubt about it, she wanted to continue...
   'Take your jeans off completely,' he ordered. 'Put that chair in front of the mirror and kneel on it, hands on your head. It's high time you had a dose of the strap.'
   While Kerry scurried to obey James rummaged in his holdall for a two-tailed tawse; an old favourite, well worn by years of application to delinquent behinds. 'You'll take six,' he informed her firmly, 'on the bare.'
   'Oh sir, no sir,' gasped Kerry, making no attempt to move.
   Wearing only the singlet and a pair of short white socks she assumed an authentically sulky expression, eyes warily watching his reflected image as he drew her knickers down to her knees.
   Measuring his distance he drew back his arm; Kerry tensed and screwed her eyes tight shut. For a moment, time stopped.
   Thwack!
   Six methodical strokes covered the crown of her buttocks; six ever-louder cries escaped Kerry's lips. Her feet kicked the air, fingers clutched at her hair, pert posterior danced and twisted to the tawse's tune.
   As the final stroke kissed her firm young flesh she cried out, half in pain, half in triumph, stretched towards the ceiling then slumped forward, grasping the back of the chair for support. A hand slid slyly back between her thighs. Moments passed. James waited tolerantly, allowing Kerry time to regain her composure.
   'Wow, that was amazing!' she enthused wearily. 'I wasn't expecting an orgasm as well - not the first time. You really are good at your job.' She gingerly pulled her panties up over her sore bottom. 'I think we've answered a few questions,' she continued huskily. 'Thank you, James.'
   'Thank you,' he replied, and meant it.
   'How much do I owe you?' she asked, reaching a little shakily for her bag.
   'It's usually eighty pounds a session, but student grants seem to have disappeared since my day, so let's call it a round sixty.
   'Generous, too.' That heart stopping smile again, and then she kissed him warmly on the cheek. Sometimes professional detachment was hard to maintain. It was time to go.

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Short stories with one theme but plenty of variety
Monday, 2 August 2010  | 

I liked this collection of short stories for the varied story lines and characters I could believe. All twelve stories have a different twist and even if you read the book from cover to cover in one go, there is no lack of variety. Ms Aspen has the knack of capturing a mood in very few words. Well worth reading.


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