Shadow Lane Volume 8: The Spanking Libertines A Novel of Spanking, Sex and Romance. Eve Howard
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you. I might have known,” he remarked, taking her by the forearm and pulling her out of her seat, into the aisle and down to the wall that prominently bore a “no smoking” sign. “I was under the impression that admission to Vassar was largely contingent upon the ability to read,” he declared as he released her.
“You know, nine out of ten Vassar women would take serious umbrage at being manhandled,” she commented, rubbing her arm as though he had hurt her.
“Yes, but nine out of ten Vassar women don’t deserve to be put across someone’s knee!” he told her before turning to stride off.
Lupe watched him go with a fluttering heart.
Frustration, anxiety, jealousy and pique were a few of the emotions aroused in the bosoms of our principals during the course of the first Vassar B&D party.
Martin, the ardent bondager and Carl-Adam, the fledgling submissive, suffered varying degrees of anguish from the capricious machinations of Diana Stratton, who first tormented Carl-Adam by allowing Martin to tie her to a whipping post, then virtually crushed Martin’s soul by prettily begging Clarence for a whipping while thus restrained.
Taken pity on by Lupe, who was then sleekly clad in skintight PVC capri pants and a halter top of the same material as well as stiletto heels, Carl-Adam was offered the opportunity to serve as her pony and carry her on his broad back through the split level town house as he vigorously traversed it on all fours.
While this athletic exhibition temporarily distracted Carl-Adam from brooding on Diana’s reprehensible lapse into simpering submissiveness, the arrant display of Lupe’s dominant side had only succeeded in infuriating Clarence, who had been dreaming for many days of subjecting the half-Latina girl to his own will.
He really had thought Lupe submissive and was not entirely convinced that he had been wrong, but the sight of her in stiletto heels struck all the wrong chords with the arch traditionalist, which Clarence then fancied himself to be. He had become accustomed to admiring her slender charms set off to innocent advantage by adorable wool skirts, retro cardigans, penny loafers and pearls. The sight of her sleek curves so boldly revealed by the cleavage enhancing, midriff baring outfit was shocking and made him wanted to shake her for daring to look so sophisticated.
But he was in for greater shocks from Lupe Freeman before the clock stuck twelve.
The moment that Lupe dismounted from Carl-Adam’s back and that in which Clarence ceased to crop Diana Stratton’s pantied bottom so exactly coincided that they found themselves suddenly face to face in the basement, which had been transformed into a make-shift dungeon composed of steamer trunks and ropes thrown over beams. It was then that Clarence recalled those famous words of Jane Austen about the foolish postponement of pleasure and decided to act at once on the impulse to master this girl.
“Are you ready to go?” he demanded.
Her eyes opened wide but she nodded.
“Then I’ll see you home.”
He ushered her out.
“It’s such a beautiful night,” she remarked, tightly clad in polyvinylchloride and impervious to the chill in the air. “Do you want to take the long way back?”
“And which way would that be?”
“Around by the lake?”
“You expect to do that much walking in those shoes?”
“If I got tired you could carry me,” she suggested blithely. This almost made him smile, but instead he suddenly frowned.
“I should have thought you’d been carried enough for one night!”
They had already begun down the winding wooded path that lead away from the townhouses and back to Raymond Ave. when she stumbled on the uneven ground and was forced to lean on him.
“Why didn’t you play with me at the party?” Lupe asked as he slipped a firm arm around her waist to steady her.
“In front of anyone and everyone?”
“You did it with Diana.”
“That’s different. She’s a little vixen. And a senior.”
“Oh.”
“Although you look far more the hellcat than Miss Stratton tonight,” he gazed at her shining curvature with disapproval.
“Can you actually not like my outfit?” she cried in acute disbelief.
“I’m sure it’s extremely becoming, but to me it’s an impenetrable suit of armor.”
“Not really. The pants unzip in the back,” she pointed out the zipper.
They did not resume their conversation until they had crossed the street and walked onto the main campus.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you since you showed up at the support group meeting, what exact facet of B&D are you into, Clarence?”
“The same one you’re into, I think.”
“I never said what I’m into.”
“Didn’t you?”
As they walked past the Gothic library they both remembered their last encounter in the basement. Lupe’s heart pounded and Clarence’s face flushed.
“You seemed to crop Diana masterfully,” Lupe murmured several minutes later, as they were crossing the wooden bridge that spanned Vassar Lake. “I envied the attention she was getting. But I suppose that I wore the wrong outfit.”
No sooner had these mildly wistful words issued from her lips than Clarence seized Lupe around the waist, lifted her to eye level and kissed her resoundingly. When he set her feet back down on the bridge she wobbled slightly. This gave him the excuse to sweep her up into his arms.
“What are you doing?”
“Carrying you home.”
“You can’t carry me all the way like this.”
“How much do you weigh? A hundred pounds?”
“Yes.”
“Besides, if I get tired of carrying you this way I can always put you over one shoulder,” he threatened.
“No!”
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you for weeks.”
“But you’ve been so aloof,” she reminded him.
“You needed to be punished.”
“You’re horrible,” she cried, gripped by a spasm of pleasure.
“Oh, you have no idea.”
“Why? What are you into, Clarence?”
“What do you think?”
“Could be anything from vampirism to cattle prods.”
“Oh, don’t be silly.”
“Rope bondage, hot wax and nipple clamps?”
Clarence snorted his derision.
“I know! Cross-dressing! With your alter ego being Mrs. Siddons!”
Clarence put Lupe down and gave her a shake. “You brat!” He kissed her again. “I don’t think I’ll wait to get you home before I spank you!” He pulled her off the lake path to the first fallen log he saw and turned her over his knee. Then holding her fast to his lap he brought his palm down vigorously on her shiny, PVC wrapped bottom a dozen or thirteen times. The spanking was delivered so rapidly that she hardly had time to kick before it was over and he’d set her back on her feet.
“There!” he told her. “Now you know for a certainty what I’m into!”
Lupe walked along beside him, still feeling the impact of his hand on her bottom. She wondered why in the stories she’d read on the subject,