Rayleen likes the idea that what she wants, or doesn’t want, simply doesn’t matter. The idea is not exactly true, but it’s fun for her and her young man to play with as she waits , bent over a desk,for more of what she wants..
This is a hot scene but it’s to be published, and publishers don’t like their books to be available on line for free. So I have to take it down from here. I’ll put up a link saying where you can buy this quality erotica when that’s all sorted.
Rayleen is being punished in front of witnesses, who she offended – deliberately – last night. But when a young woman is bent over a desk in her bedroom, and her sister and her sister’s friend have come to watch Jack cane her, the last thing Rayleen expects that Jack will be distracted from her by her sister’s friend Lynette. What does a girl have to do, to be centre of attention?
This is a hot scene but it’s to be published, and publishers don’t like their books to be available on line for free. So I have to take it down from here. I’ll put up a link saying where you can buy this quality erotica when that’s all sorted.
Rayleen knows that a morning in which she gets caned in front of her sister and the woman trying to shag her sister should nevertheless be about HER. With a bit of cunning, and submissive wiles, she manages to achieve that.
This is a hot scene but it’s to be published, and publishers don’t like their books to be available on line for free. So I have to take it down from here. I’ll put up a link saying where you can buy this quality erotica when that’s all sorted.
Jack tells Zeliie, Rayleen’s sister, to hold her down during her caning. He warns that if Rayleen manages to rise from the desk, she’d get extra strokes. And, he added, Zellie would get the same number.
Zellie didn’t actually acquiesce. But she didn’t argue, either.
This is a hot scene but it’s to be published, and publishers don’t like their books to be available on line for free. So I have to take it down from here. I’ll put up a link saying where you can buy this quality erotica when that’s all sorted.
The novel this is from was unpublished when I put this post up.
Now it’s about to be published, so free segments from it have to be taken down.
In this excerpt a woman who wants to be publicly caned, because that pushes several of her hottest buttons, tries to pretend that’s not what she wants.
William “Neckbeard” Empson, of Seven Types of Ambiguity fame. I’d used Type 3: the same word or phrase expressing two conflicting ideas
The novel this is from was unpublished when I put this post up.
Now it’s about to be published, so free segments from it have to be taken down. However, I’ll leave the note, which isn’t part of the novel, where it is.
Note:
This is a story about something that happened relatively early in my bdsm career. But I’d been doing wicked things long enough to learn that submissive women, though wonderful, aren’t made of porcelain, and that it’s not necessarily bad if I made a submissive woman cry. In the right way, not because of emotional hurt.
Also, I was about half-way out about bdsm, not through my own choice but because I had ex-girlfriends who gossiped with their friends that – with their consent – I spanked them and told them what to do. That meant that some women avoided going to bed with me, while others would pop round to see me, precisely because of that.
It was Raylene, heroine of our story, who made me realise that my interest in bdsm wasn’t so much a secret as a reputation, at least in the circle of women I knew, and that there was a good side to being a safe, non-scary bad boy.
(I could’ve been the centrefold for Lisa Simpson’s guilty subscription: “Non-threatening Bad Boys”.)
The last episode of this story was posted back in October. We left Raylene naked, with a sore ass, bent over her bedroom desk and about to get her second dozen, enjoying the sexual admiration of two girls (one of them her half-sister, so that didn’t entirely count, except that in complicated ways it did count) and the intense sexual appreciation of one man: me.
A lot of things had happened very quickly between Raylene and me, once I recognised who and what she was. It helped that Raylene already knew about me, and steered things in the direction she wanted to go. I was following, while thinking I was leading.
Anyway, she liked submission, and she was no end of an exhibitionist, so she was brightly striped and giddily happy. If you want to see where we are and how we got here, that post is here.
Followers of this blog, even casual visitors, have possibly noticed that there is a long, long story going on, in which I met Raylene, the half-sister of an ex of mine, to interview her about her time with a neo-Nazi gang.
But we moved fairly quickly from journalism to sex. There haven’t been any new episodes for a while, because I’ve been busy with other things.
When I left the Raylene saga, she was in her bedroom getting the cane in front of her half-sister, Dorabella, and Lynette, the woman who wanted to be Dorabella’s girlfriend. The smell of female – and male – sexual arousal hung heavy in the air. It was one of the best moments in my life so far, believe me.
I’m going to continue that story shortly. At least until I’ve got Raylene and I in bed, with the other two women departed for a while.
The story has a way to run after that, but I want to tell two other stories before I continue from that point.
So we’ll have a brief continuation of Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive, until I feel I’ve taken everyone to someplace they can be happy while I ignore them (and us) for a while.
Then we’re going to tell two other stories, which are a lot shorter than the Raylene saga. One of them features the reappearance of an old friend, and I’m hardly in it myself. The other reveals me to be a bit of a slut, also a scoundrel, on occasion.
I suppose I should also do my Anal Hook user’s report, since I promised that a year or so ago. I get there eventually, you know. But I’m a busy man, also a lazy one, and anyway I’ve learned that anticipation is no bad thing.
And then, at last, we’ll get back to Raylene, and show you the new world she found.
If you want to read or re-read the Raylene saga, you can find all the episodes by clicking on the tag, “Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive”, just below this post.
The novel this is from was unpublished when I put this post up.
Now it’s about to be published, so free segments from it have to be taken down.
In this episode, a girl who likes to show off gets two witnesses to watch her first caning.
She laughed again. “You! You’re not making it up as you go along. You know exactly what you’re doing.”
I decided to leave that unchallenged. It wasn’t remotely true, but it was good that she thought so. So I shrugged, I hope ambiguously. “Anyway, I’m falling in love with you. And, you don’t have to fall in love with me. I just blurted.”
“Yeah. It’s okay. Seriously, it’s much better than okay. Just .. give me time, ok?”
“Yeah.” To mark of the end of one sensitive conversation, and to remind her of other sensitivities, I smacked her ass, hot and welted under my hand.
Raylene jolted. “Yah fuck!”
So I smacked her again, then let my hand stay, stroking her. Firm, beautifully rounded, a little rough where the cane had directly landed, and blazing heat.
She said, “Jesus, my arse is sore. How long does it hurt for?”
“Well, this is peak hurt. It lasts maybe half an hour from the last cane stroke, though it’ll keep on hurting quite a lot, slightly lower level, for a couple of hours. Especially after I’ve given you the second dozen.”
“Yuh. I haven’t forgotten. Master.”
“Good girl. It’ll maybe hurt most of today. Though it’ll be at a lower level. You’ll feel it, but it’ll be background. And you’ll probably like it. A nice, sexy, buzzing feeling. And I’ll be looking after you. And for the next couple days you’ll get a reminder any time you sit down. Or, I don’t know, walk backwards into anything. And don’t forget I can bring you back to peak hurt anytime, just by smacking you hard with my hand. And I won’t hesitate, if you’re out of line for a second. You put the Me in Master.”
She frowned. “And without the ME it’s a-s-t-r. Star! Ah! You’re a star Master!”
“Yeah, it was really stupid when I said it. Now it sounds cool.”
“You’re going to hurt me when you fuck me.” That was a demand.
“Promise. That’s a promise. Not accidentally.”
Her eyes shone. She might not be in love with me, but we were perverts. “Yeah.”
I heard the bathroom door open. “Yeah indeed. Now. Running on the spot, Raylene.”
“What?”
I put the cane in her mouth, for her to hold. And I put my cock all the way back inside my jeans “On the spot. Running. Get your knees up.”
“Ub.” Raylene took her hands down from her head, and shambled into action.
“Knees higher or I’ll beat you. Girl.”
Raylene lifted her knees. I could hear Dorabella, still talking, in the corridor. Raylene jogged and jiggled, with her spectacular back to the door.
I’m a good host.
There was a pause while Dorabella, Lynette and I gazed at Raylene, who stood straight, her hands on her head forcing her gaze down slightly. The floor; the visual fascination of floors, for submissives. Her buttocks well and redly striped, with a few downward-sloping welts on her upper right thigh where the end of the cane had whipped. Those would be hurting.
Her face was flushed with sobbing, and her cheeks still wet with tears. Her upper lip was shiny, unromantically enough, with phlegm. I took the tissues box and stepped in front of her so she could watch me.
“Good girl.” I wiped her face clean and dry, dabbing at the tears and wiping her lip, then holding a handful of tissues to her nose. She leaned forward at the waist and blew. After four fierce snorts, head shaking and many, many tissues, she smiled and straightened up. She could breathe through her nose. Then we looked into each other’s eyes.
Dorabella suddenly sang out, “Loo break! Loo break!” She put her arm round Lynette’s shoulder – Lynette had been slower to react – and bustled them both to the door. “Come on, we can, oh, powder our noses. Girl stuff! Exciting!”
Lynette said, “Buh,” and then she was gone.
So Raylene and I were suddenly alone, in a silent room. I put my hands on her back, just above the highest cane stroke, and pulled her close. “Subtle, your sister, isn’t she?”
Raylene laughed suddenly. She hadn’t expected to be laughing anytime soon. “Like a truck!” She shook her head, amused, then lifted her face up to be kissed. I provided kisses. Time passed. I could hear Dorabella and Lynette in the bathroom, though I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Dorabella was doing most of the talking.
Eventually Raylene looked up. “Did you say you were falling in love with me?”
“Yeah, sorry. The awkward declaration. You don’t have to … reciprocate. I mean you have to do as you’re told. But your emotions, they’re mostly up to you. It’s true, but I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. You know. I can’t take it back, but – ”
“Shut up.” I must have looked astonished. “Shut up, Master. I don’t know, Master. I know you weren’t trying to put me on the spot. And it’s not like it’s a bad thing. How can I mind you falling in love with me? “
“Yeah. I lead with my chin, me. Possibly my mouth.”
“That’s not what you’re leading with.” She rubbed her belly against my cock.
I said, as I had to Lynette in similar circumstances, “Ah fuck…” But to Raylene I added, “And I really need to fuck you.”
“Yeah. Oh, yeah.” That was enthusiasm. She took her hands down and stroked me. My mouth fell open, information from my cock and its soft handling over-riding all else. I had nothing to say.
“Anyway, you’re my Master. That happened fast. And I didn’t actually ask you if you wanted to be.”
“You can’t have had any doubt, though. Very happy to be your Master. Fucking happy. Going to fuck you.” I was still being stroked.
I had both hands on her burning ass now. My body was moving with her hands.
She didn’t stop. I couldn’t tell her to stop. “Well, we’re going pretty fast. If I’m calling you Master, that’s a pretty big commitment anyway. And I don’t mind that. And I mean it too, I mean everything that goes with it. Whatever that is.”
“We’ll make it up as we go along.”
She laughed, as if I’d said something ridiculous and she was in on the joke.