Mastering Mrs Burton

Mastering Mrs Burton
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ISBN:  9781780804057
Author:  Laurel Aspen
Word Count:  23,176
Format:  eBook

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Managing Mrs BurtonManaging Mrs Burton

'Fetch the cane...' Despite the warm summer weather, Kirsty shivers at this deceptively simple command, redolent with meaning derived from rueful experience. She feels a tangible sexual thrill, discretely squeezing her thighs together, unsuccessfully attempting to quell the arousal damply manifest between her legs. Heart racing, Kirsty forces herself to calm down; walk slowly, short steps, no hurry; she'll soon enough feel the bite of the bamboo across her curves.

For punishment, for pleasure, disciplinary or erotic, regardless of status and in a variety of positions, women are being spanked... and tawsed, and caned, and...

A disciplinarian Aunt finds herself on the receiving end, neither company boss nor headmistress is immune from the harsh kiss of the cane, and women prove every bit as capable of delivering a sound spanking as any man.

A disobedient wife is instructed by her husband to prepare for a salutary chastisement, another submissively writes her man a letter pleading to be taken to task, and of course, good girls who take their punishment properly are rewarded afterwards...

 

She hadn't meant to spy, really she hadn't; but with the bloody broadband slowing to snail's pace Claire couldn't get any work done. The start of a new university term was imminent and she had to have her lecturer's notes ready. Where others might pick up the phone to call an outreach geek Claire was self-reliant. Screwdriver in hand she decided to trace the phone cable and check for a loose connection, carefully following the wire to a junction box where it spurred off into the granny annex of her house. Ah, she remembered now, the phone line entered via this little self-contained flat, currently let to two students.
   Wonder of anyone's in? thought Claire, raising her hand to knock on the door only to find it already open. 'Chloe,' she called softly, aware of strange noises emanating from the bedroom to the right.
   TV's a bit loud, thought Claire, then as her ears became attuned to the noise, what on earth is she watching?
   Peering through the bedroom door her question was soon answered and the sight brought her to a dead stop.
   The TV was silent, but a laptop being watched avidly by the young woman on the bed certainly explained the salacious sounds. On the screen an attractive girl had been pulled firmly across a rather dishy young man's lap and was being soundly spanked. This sexy scenario evidently found favour with the watcher who, clad only in a T-shirt and knickers, was working furiously with her fingers inside her panties.
   At which point the frame momentarily froze - the dreaded buffering pause - and all became annoyingly clear to Claire. Loose connection be dammed; the service was slow because the lodgers were streaming movies - on her broadband connection.
   The action resumed and, hardly breathing, she stood transfixed by the erotic tableau. Tearing her eyes from her teetering-on-the-brink-of-climax lodger Claire spied the film.
   'Now finish her off,' thought Claire, and then froze. She'd inadvertently spoken out loud!
   Chloe looked up, guilty secret revealed and astonished to see her landlady. For what seemed a long, long time neither person spoke.
   'You've been watching me,' Chloe said eventually, accusingly but betraying no visible anger.
   'I didn't intend to,' responded Claire, recovering her composure, 'my PC was on the blink, I came to check the connection, I thought you were at college.' Oh dear; true though her explanation was it didn't sound very convincing. She decided to adopt the moral high ground. 'You've been using my internet connection.'
   Chloe had the grace to look embarrassed. 'Yes,' she agreed, 'and we've downloaded some movies, probably what slowed your computer down, I'm sorry.'
   'Did you pay for the films?' demanded Claire.
   Chloe looked shamefaced. 'Not all of them...'
   'Oh great, I'll get done for piracy now. Honestly, I've a good mind to...'
   'Send us packing? No, please, I'm sorry, we'd never find anywhere else so reasonable,' pleaded Chloe, 'and with such a lovely landlady,' she added as an afterthought.
   'I think it'll take more than flattery to resolve this issue,' replied Claire, sensing an advantage.
   'Yes, of course, you're right.' Chloe looked down. 'I've been very naughty, haven't I? Perhaps you should punish me, Claire. Perhaps you know what to do?'
   Claire did indeed know what to do, hence the percussive noises Chloe's boyfriend Tom heard as he returned home some fifteen minutes later.
   He hadn't planned to spy, he really hadn't, but cheerful call of greeting unacknowledged, Tom made his way to the bedroom from wherein came the unmistakable sound of a spanking in progress. Not watching spanking films again? Honestly, Chloe was incorrigible. Well she'd very soon be getting her bottom smacked for real. He smiled, eagerly anticipating the encounter and quietly pushed open the bedroom door...
   To discover his landlady with Chloe over her knee, energetically spanking his girlfriend's pert little bottom. As he watched Claire allowed an intermission in the fusillade of slaps to Chloe's hot pink cheeks and stroked the insides of her thighs, eliciting gasps of pleasure. High time Tom announced his presence...
   A quarter of hour and some rather heated debate later events took a further turn, and Tom had decidedly taken charge. He'd most definitely be dealing with his gamine young girlfriend severely for her internet hijacking exploits. However, that could wait; taking Claire to task for her voyeurism and spanking Chloe without his permission was a far more pressing priority. No excuses and no arguments, Tom expected obedience and possessed sufficient charisma to ensure the woman would submit.
   My, but Tom was a big strong boy, thought Claire as he bent her firmly over the back of the sofa, pushed up onto the toes of her sandals.
   Sitting on the couch Chloe clasped Claire's hands and held them tightly, and stretching up she engaged her landlady in a far from sisterly kiss. 'I think you've been rather neglected lately, lovely Claire,' she murmured as Tom raised the hem of her dress to reveal a firm bottom. Claire mentally thanked the sartorial gods she'd worn decent lingerie under her fifties-style dress.
   In contrast to the older woman's curvaceous charms Chloe was slender and pale, with cute black-framed glasses, hair tied in two bunches and short white socks. Appearing much younger than her years, in fact, she was a graduate student, older than Tom, her tall, muscled boyfriend.
   'Take her knickers down,' Chloe impishly instructed her beau. 'Claire needs it on the bare, don't you darling?'
   To be honest 'it' had been absent so long Claire really wasn't fussy. She felt a cool breeze waft across her exposed cheeks and heard the unmistakable sound of a leather belt being removed from Tom's jeans.
   'First I'm going to give you a good strapping,' he said authoritatively.
   'And then we're both going to take very good care of you,' whispered Chloe, holding her tightly...

Honestly, he hadn't intended to spy. It might seem like a lame excuse, but across the road, looking through binoculars, Peter really was indulging a little suburban ornithology, reckoning a tally for the annual garden bird watch when he chanced upon his neighbour's window.
   His fascinated reverie was disturbed by his wife, Sonia, carrying two glasses of wine. 'Seen anything interesting yet?' she enquired, more out of politeness than expectation. Honestly, since his early retirement Peter seemed to have lost his get up and go. Plenty of time to please themselves and the most exciting thing he could think to do was watch birds. She pouted sulkily; hardly complimentary.
   'As a matter of fact I have,' answered her husband, looking appreciatively at his wife's rear curves as she bent to place the glasses on a low table. In the hope of persuading her man towards a more hands on way to spend an afternoon Sonia had 'made an effort'. Peter blinked, a hip-hugging skirt, high heels and - unmistakably - stocking seams stirred more than just his interest. Passing his wife the binoculars he directed her gaze to the house opposite.
   She looked long and hard then turned to fix him with a meaningful stare. 'Have you still got that leather paddle we used to play with?'
   'At the back of the wardrobe,' Peter replied promptly. 'I think it's long overdue an outing.'

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