THE STRICT BRITISH BARRISTER: ACT ONE (19 page)

BOOK: THE STRICT BRITISH BARRISTER: ACT ONE
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“That spanking was general, for your general good, discipline for discipline’s sake. It was to teach you that I mean what I say. Now you will feel the rod for your dreadful schemes and lies.”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

“Bend over, hold the sides of the chair, and spread your legs.”

Leaning forward, filled with dread, she grasped the chair.

I can’t believe this. When he said he was strict he wasn’t kidding.

“Do you think schemes and lies are an appropriate way to get what you want?” he asked sternly.

“No, Sir.”

“Your bottom is very sore, isn’t it, Brittany?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whimpered.

“Remember, you can always say the words.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“What are they?”

“This is too much for me, Sir.”

“Now you will wait. You will wait and consider your conniving, you will consider your undisciplined behavior, you will consider how you put yourself at risk with a complete stranger, a man who had already proven to be of dubious character. When I return my rod will teach you just how badly I view these things.”

Moving away from her he settled into his armchair to view her body, admire his handiwork, and consider how many stripes she would receive.

Three is not enough, six is too many with her bottom already so sore. Hmm, perhaps four, perhaps four landed quickly.

As Duncan considered her pending punishment, Brittany’s head was swimming.

Just bail. Say the words. You don’t need this crap. The hell with him.

Shut-up you horrible little imp. You’re always getting me in trouble. Go away. You’ve talked me into manipulating people my whole life. It was your idea to put on those horrible clothes, it was your idea to be friends with Kathy all those years ago. You’re the reason my ass is on fire, now just go away.

She realized her fingers had been clenched around the chair, and letting out a deep breath she let them fall loose, little knowing she’d just sent a signal to Duncan that she was ready to continue.

Rising from his chair he moved forward, rod in hand.

“This will not be pleasant,” he warned, “and remember, you can always say the words.”

“Yes, Sir, but I won’t, Sir.”

“You will receive four cuts, three for your schemes, and the last for being so foolish as to call Dylan Cross. You wanted to get out of the cabin and have a drink, fine, but you went too far, as well you know,” he scolded. “They will be delivered with a count of three between each. Please refrain from any loud noises. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Sir,” she breathed.

With a practiced swish of his wrist, he landed the first, eliciting a hissing of breath between her teeth, then began his count.

“One, two, three.”

The second landed just below the first, causing a bending of the knees and a loud groan.

“One, two, three.”

The third brought the snapping back of her head, and caused both her feet to stamp.

“One, two, three.”

The last was delivered to the base of her cheeks, her sit spot, and she gripped the sides of the chair, clenched her teeth, bent her knees, and let out a low, deep growl.

“I will leave you for a few minutes. You may lay on the bed, your may walk around, you may rub your burnt behind, you may do anything you wish, except those things I mentioned earlier. I will return shortly.”

She turned her head and watched him walk out the door, then moving to the bed she flopped down face forward. As she caught her breath, resting her hands on her stinging behind, she began to think about what he’d just done.

He could have landed that horrible stick a dozen times but he didn’t. Four, he decided four was right. He’s delivering discipline as he sees fit.

Sinking into the mattress, though she wasn’t sure why, a half-smile crossed her lips.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

B
rittany wasn’t the only one who needed a break. Duncan wanted to catch his breath, to have a drink and gather his thoughts.

She’s taking everything in stride. I can feel her, she understands this process. It’s hard to believe she’s never had a Dominant in her life
.

He’d opened a bottle of Pinot Noir, and sipping the wine he instinctively knew they would still be together when the ship docked in Tahiti, and she would be sitting next to him on the plane back to London.

I’d better make sure I have the seat. God Forbid the flight’s sold out.

Reaching for the phone he dialed Joe and asked him to take care of the reservation.

“British Airways, First Class, and make sure they know we want seats next to each other.”

“Yes, Mr. Rhys-Davies, and may I say I’m very happy to do this, very happy.”

“Thanks, Joe, let’s hope I’ll still need that seat when the time comes.”

“I suspect you will,” the steward replied, and Duncan could hear him smiling.

After providing some additional information Duncan finished the call, then frowning, he shook his head and stared up at the ceiling.

Am I really doing this? Am I really bringing this madcap young woman back to London with me for a week? I’ve either completely lost my mind, or I really have totally fallen for her.

Taking another sip of his wine, he began to think about what he’d do with her in London, and The Bowler Hat immediately came to mind.

Charlie will be jealous as hell, and so will Eric. I’ll have to take her shopping, find her just the right outfit. That will be a night to remember, and I must take her to a show at the West End, and Harrods, we have to eat in the food court. How the blazes am I going to fit everything in? I can already feel I’ll be loathe to let her leave. Ah well, a week is better than nothing, and it will be a very interesting week at that.

Sipping his wine and imagining the heady, fun-filled first few days at home, his focus shifted to the Monday he’d be back at work. Brittany would have to entertain herself until he returned home, and he knew he’d have a brand new case waiting, a case that he’d have to peruse after hours, in his study.

It will only be a couple of days, and maybe that’s a good way to wind everything down, bring us both back to reality. Speaking of reality, I’d best get back to her. I need to lay down with her for a bit.

Walking back into the bedroom he found her as he thought he would, resting on her side with her eyes closed. Moving to the bed he sat down and stroked the hair off her face.

“How are you?” he asked tenderly.

Blinking open her eyes she stared up at him.

“If it was yesterday, I’d probably say something like, how do you think, but it’s today, it’s now, and I have no desire to say that,” she said softly.

“Then what is it you do have a desire to say?” he smiled.

“I have a desire to say, I’m not sure how I am. Physically of course, my butt hurts, and I certainly feel like I’ve been punished, really punished. I didn’t feel any anger from you, just determination. Is that the right word? Determination?”

“Yes, I’d say that’s the right word,” he nodded, “certainly one of the right words.”

“I also feel a bit strange. I feel emotional, I feel like I want to curl up and have you hold me and never let me go, but I guess that can’t happen yet, or can it?”

“Yes, it can,” he smiled. “There is more to come, but you have done well and I’m very proud of you. I’m especially proud of everything you’ve just said.”

Stretching out alongside her he began stroking her back, but as she began to nestle against him he sat up, and reaching down he grabbed the blanket folded up at the bottom of the bed.

“If we’re going to rest for a bit I don’t want you getting cold,” he murmured, pulling it over them. “Rest now, there are a couple more things in store.”

“I understand,” she sighed, “and those aren’t just words, I really do.”

He let himself drift with her, feeling their union, their unique closeness, the closeness that he knew could only come from their unique interaction.

“Duncan,” she murmured, “why am I like this? Why are you the way you are?”

“That’s a question that has been asked a thousand times by a thousand people, men and women alike,” he sighed. “There’s no single answer, and there’s no easy answer. Human sexuality, the human psyche, it’s a complex thing. I’ve stopped asking, I’ve just accepted who I am, what I am.”

“That makes sense, but you were right about a couple of things that you said, about why I do some of the things I do.”

“You are very spoiled, but you’re very smart, and you figured out how to get what you wanted when you were just a little girl. Am I right?” he asked, kissing her neck.

“Yes, you’re right. My mother would be the one who would scold me and want to punish me, and all I had to do was go to my father and tell him how sorry I was. If I cried a bit that would be the end of any possible punishment.”

“And your boyfriends?”

“My boyfriends? Oh, good grief,” she groaned, “I don’t know why, but every boyfriend I’ve ever had has been scared of me.”

“Scared of you, or scared of losing you?” he corrected her.

“How can you know this stuff? I’ve never thought about it, but yes, scared of losing me. Honestly, I don’t know why men don’t get it. What’s wrong with them? Why can’t they take a stand occasionally. I got so sick and tired of hearing, ‘whatever you want, whatever makes you happy.’ That’s all well and good, but after a while…”

“There’s a balance. I’m sure they meant well, and you are quite fearsome,” he smiled. “Not every man is going to put their girlfriend over their knee. They might want to, but it’s not PC.”

“No, it certainly isn’t,” she sighed.

“Seems like you’re coming back to life,” he remarked. “Are you ready for Round Two?”

“That depends on what that is,” she said.

“Yes, you’re definitely back to life, but you need some water. Stay there.”

She watched him walk across to the bathroom, and felt her heart swell.

You are so dreamy. Where did you come from? How did all this happen? I can’t believe I’m here, I can’t believe I’ve met someone like you. I thought dreamy Dom’s were only in books.

“Here, drink this, then take off the rest of your clothes and wait for me on your stomach with your eyes closed. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said softly, wanting him to know she’d slipped back into her deeply submissive state.

As she drank the water she realized he was right, she was much thirstier than she’d thought. Downing the entire glass, she placed it on the bedside table, then removing her silk top and bra, she settled on her stomach and closed her eyes.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“W
hat is your other bad habit, the one that is annoying and impolite?” he asked standing over her.

The soft, tender man who had laid beside her was gone, and the strict Dominant had returned. His voice was carrying a stern tone, and she felt herself getting lost in his authority once again.

“I, uh, interrupt,” she admitted.

“Yes, you do, and it’s rude. When you interrupt it means you’re not interested in what the other person is saying, you don’t care about their opinion, or feelings. It has to stop,” he scolded.

“Yes, Sir, I understand.”

“Corner time is a gentle way to help you focus, but I have learned that corner time doesn’t have much of an impact on you, so, young lady, we must move to something else. When we’re in London I’ll have the proper equipment, but here I have to compromise. Regardless, I believe it will have the desired affect.”

He began with the black silk sash around her eyes, as he tied it in place she felt a fresh wave of need between her legs.

Please ravage me when we’re done, please, or will that be part of the discipline as well, denying me what I want so much.

As if reading her mind, for the first time since her discipline had begun, he touched her sex, and she wriggled against his teasing fingers, aching for more.

“Sir,” she moaned, “that feels…”

“Shush,” he said, continuing to torment her.

No surprise there, but how delicious. You are positively soaking, just you should be. You will learn your lesson today Missy, yes you will.

Withdrawing his hand, he picked up a necktie, wrapping one end around her ankles leaving a tether, then bringing her arms behind her back he did the same with her wrists. Knotting the ends of the two ties together saw her quickly immobilized.

It wasn’t a severe version of a hogtie, but he believed it was an excellent introduction, and once in his home in London she would experience much more elaborate bondage.

“This should help you focus,” he said solemnly. “You are to think about the many times you interrupted me, and why you cannot hold your tongue. I’ve already explained it’s all about self-discipline. You will learn, Brittany, to pay attention to the person who is speaking, and truly listening and caring about what they have to say. If your muscles begin to cramp call out to me, otherwise you must remain silent, do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir, I understand,” she muttered.

Moving back to his armchair he settled in to keep watch. He didn’t like using the neck ties, the knots could be difficult to untie if he needed to do so quickly, and he couldn’t make the restraint as tight as he would have liked, but she’d never been in the position before and it would suffice.

Glancing across at the clock on the desk he took note of the time; he’d leave her there for fifteen minutes, and no more. It would feel much longer to her, and he didn’t want her muscles to start cramping.

If I had you in my life full-time, I’d find a way to create a playroom in my house. I’ve had that dream for a long time. It wouldn’t be easy. I don’t even know where I could put it. I came close to making one for Natalie. Sweet Natalie. Interesting that I’m learning that you’re nothing like her. Perhaps that’s a good thing, perhaps that’s why I’m able to do this, because you’re so different.

I’ll have to take you to at least one dinner party, but I’m not so worried about that anymore. You have a much more sophisticated upbringing than you first let on. Why is that? You were superb when we had dinner at The Mermaid, you positively took that Sommelier’s breath away, and mine too for that matter. Are you ashamed of your family’s wealth? I must explore that with you.

BOOK: THE STRICT BRITISH BARRISTER: ACT ONE
6.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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