Shadow Lane Volume 8: The Spanking Libertines A Novel of Spanking, Sex and Romance. Eve Howard
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distance between them.
“Mad isn’t the word,” he warned her, seizing her by the ear lobe and dragging her over to the bed whereupon he turned her over his knee for the second time that night. “How dare you tell outrageous lies to shock me?”
Lupe cried out in surprise as his palm came down hard on the back of her skirt and commenced spanking her resoundingly.
“Why was that necessary?” he demanded, pulling up her skirt to reveal slim bare thighs and a neat, round bottom snugly encased in white silk panties. “Weren’t you getting enough attention as it was?” Smack! Smack! Smack!
“No, not nearly,” Lupe cried between gasps and whimpers.
“Well you’ll be getting it now.” His hand came down hard again and again, warming her so thoroughly that he began to feel a tangible heat rise from the thin fabric. He pulled the panties down to examine the pinkest bottom he had ever held across his lap.
“It hurts!” she cried, attempting to shield herself with her hand. He caught her wrist and slapped her on the back of the hand.
“It’s going to hurt a good deal more before I’m through with you, young lady!”
“I was only playing a joke on you, because you’re such a prude!”
“I’m nothing of the kind.” He whacked her hard.
“Ow! You certainly are. You didn’t even want us to have a spanking party!”
“Never mind that. We’re discussing your character flaws, not mine,” he pointed out, paddling her firmly with his very hard hand until she squirmed.
“Ow, that really stings! I’ve had enough for now. In fact, I’ll be good,” she cried, really attempting to wriggle off his lap in earnest now.
“Hold still,” he ordered, mitigating the severity of the spanking by vigorously rubbing her bottom.
“Mmmmm,” Lupe intoned appreciatively while grinding against his lap.
“I’m glad you seem to like this position,” he observed, “because you’re going to be spending a great deal of time in it from now on!”
In spite of meeting a female bondage enthusiast (who subsequently became his girlfriend) at the townhouse party, Martin never forgave Diana for allowing Clarence to crop her while she was restrained in his own beautiful bondage.
Less resentful but more deeply affected by Diana’s merry submission to Clarence was Carl-Adam, who had adored the small, sophisticated coed for the past several weeks and had envisioned serving her for the rest of the school year. The sight of his lovely little mistress whimpering with pleasure and apprehension as Clarence’s crop punished her divine bottom filled Carl-Adam with confusion and unhappiness.
As he fell into step beside Lupe the next morning on the way to the dining hall her smile cheered him. Though she had recently supplanted him as Diana’s best friend, he liked her only slightly less than his goddess.
“Diana has become bored with me,” Carl-Adam reported.
“Carl-Adam, never think it. She adores you,” Lupe reassured the formidable young man.
“No. She didn’t pay me the slightest attention at the party. She cared for your Clarence much more. When all he did was hurt her!”
“Oh, Carl-Adam, he did not hurt her.”
“She flinched as he struck her. I saw her. And heard her cry out.”
“But cropping can be quite enjoyable. Surely you can empathize, or does your interest lie only in servitude?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you realize that corporal punishment can be a powerful aphrodisiac?”
“You mean spanking?”
“Spanking, whipping, strapping, caning,” Lupe recited the litany reverently.
“Can that be what Diana really likes?”
“You know, Carl-Adam, there’s a lot you can do with a girl when she’s across your lap.”
“My lap?” He was taken aback.
“You’re such a big young man and she’s such a little girl. Hasn’t it occurred to you that her being your mistress is incongruous?”
“No, but I’m in love.”
“Well I assure you it’s occurred to her. And if you really are in love, you’ll drop this submissive nonsense and start behaving like a man with that girl.”
Diana had become accustomed to Carl-Adam carrying her golf clubs every Sunday morning when she took her exercise on the lushly landscaped course. But that morning he was so late in arriving to meet her that she assumed he had completely forgotten this cherished obligation and was sleeping off the effects of the previous night’s revelries. But going out the door of Cushing at eleven, with her neat golf bag over one shoulder and delightfully attired in a pleated skirt, matching sweater set and oxfords, she bumped directly into Carl-Adam.
“Did you remember our appointment at the last minute?” she smiled up at him with her usual charm but was startled to note the stern resolve in his slate-blue eyes.
“I remembered,” he answered shortly, shouldering her clubs and ushering her out into the golden autumn day.
“Well, aren’t you going to apologize for keeping your mistress waiting?” she asked in all good humor, in spite of his foreboding expression.
“You forfeited that title when you behaved like a whimpering submissive in front of everyone last night!” he informed her severely.
“Oh?” she slowly replied, feeling her heart contract as she realized that Carl-Adam was angry with her.
“Yes, and in my very own house,” he continued, “after I’d arranged everything for your pleasure. You were so busy genuflecting to that silly Clarence that you couldn’t spare a moment for me. Did you think I threw a party to watch you play with him?”
“Carl-Adam, are you giving me a scolding?”
“You behaved very badly last night!”
“Mistresses don’t need to behave well. They only need to please themselves.”
“And did you please yourself last night?’
“Apparently not as much as I displeased you,” she smiled ruefully as they reached the golf course.
They continued to converse as she played her nine holes, Carl-Adam’s demeanor becoming stiffer and grimmer by the moment as he followed her across the emerald grass. In this manner ninety minutes passed quickly, Carl-Adam’s fascination growing for her with every frown.
She finally said, “If I have been mistaken in your character, you have only yourself to blame. I never asked you to dote on me. You took it upon yourself to behave as though you were here for my convenience. Now you seem to be angry about it, almost jealous. It’s really quite absurd.”
“You’re a spoiled brat!” he snapped. “And as soon as we get back to your room I’m going to turn you over my knee!”
All too soon Diana and Carl-Adam stood before the locked door of her room.
“Thank you, Carl-Adam, I’ll take the clubs now.”
“Open the door, Diana.”
“I don’t think I will.”
“Afraid?”
“Only of you humiliating yourself.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“How do I know that if I let you in you won’t simply fall to your knees as you normally do?”
“Key.”
Diana