Shadow Lane Volume 6: Put to the Blush A Novel of Spanking, Sex and Love. Eve Howard
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know, you’re very sexy,” he told her as he went out the door. The freshets of pleasure continued to wash through her as she gathered up her things and left the office.
The deliriously perfumed dry heat of a Santa Ana wind ruffled the split in her skirt as Hazel waited at the bus stop a few minutes later. So enraptured was she with the memory of her spanking that she didn’t notice Robert roar up to the curbside on his huge Harley. She had never seen him on his bike before and he had to lift the helmet before she recognized him with a start.
“Where do you live?” he demanded.
“Just over in West Hollywood,” she replied, with a freshly pounding heart.
“Get on and I’ll give you a ride,” he told her, handing her the extra helmet.
“But, my skirt–” she began.
“–– has a slit – hike it up and you should have no problem getting on,” he advised her, taking her purse and shoving it into a side bag. The hog was huge and had been modified to fit all the requirements of a 6’5” millionaire. As monumental as man and machine then appeared, Hazel could not contemplate roaring down the hill into West Hollywood on the back of the Harley with anything less than sheer terror. Nevertheless, she got on the back of the bike and locked her arms around Robert’s trim waist.
“I thought you had a car,” he said, kick-starting his machine.
“It recently died,” she explained. A second later they were out in traffic and darting in between cars. La Cienega came all too soon and Hazel prepared for her worst scare since the earthquake. But strangely, the hill simply seemed to disappear obediently under the wheels of the bike without simulating a roller coaster ride in the slightest. Hazel began to relax her grip slightly on Robert’s waist and by the end of the ride, four minutes later, at the quiet, residential intersection of Croft and Waring Streets, she had almost begun to enjoy herself.
Hazel dismounted as gracefully as she could, accepted her purse and handed him the helmet.
“Well, I suppose you’ll be starting your free lance job now,” he said disapprovingly. Hazel immediately blushed as she realized that he was as reluctant to leave her as she was to see him go.
“I’m very sorry about that,” she reiterated sincerely.
“I should have spanked you harder for that,” he grumbled. Hazel merely looked at him with wide eyes. “And longer,” he added, looking sexier straddling the powerful motorcycle than any character she had ever created to fuel her fantasies. Why had it taken her months to realize that a virility god ruled her workplace? Why hadn’t she noticed the vee that was formed by his shoulders and waist? Or that Roman coin head which sat so nobly atop his columnar neck?
“I can still feel it,” she told him.
“I’ll bet it isn’t even pink,” he declared.
“I’ll bet it is,” she replied.
“Lift up your skirt and show me,” he told her casually. Now her blush grew even deeper.
“No!”
Robert laughed and said, “Will you have dinner with me tomorrow?”
A tremor went through Hazel as she realized that a courtship of sorts had begun. “Oh, yes!” she said, looking up at her apartment with indecision. She couldn’t bear to let him go like this, when her empty apartment contained so many straight-backed chairs, sofas, hairbrushes, etc., to furnish them with pleasure. Robert saw her eyes go to the windows and looked at her questioningly.
“Is someone waiting for you?”
“No. I live alone,” she replied, helpfully.
“May I see?”
“Yes.”
Robert parked the bike and followed her up a brick staircase to a second floor apartment in a pretty little Tudor-style building. Leaded glass windows and hardwood floors had made this space a heavenly find and Hazel had used a small inheritance to furnish it. Her resources impressed Robert.
He examined her recamier with interest then looked her up and down.
“How tall are you?” he asked.
“Five-seven.”
This admission caused Robert to go in search of a larger sofa, which he found in her living room. This was where he elected to sit down and be served tea.
“When did you first start thinking about spanking?” he asked her.
“Age three.”
“For me it was six.”
“So you’re really into it,” she marveled.
“I don’t think you could find someone who was any more into it,” Robert confessed.
“You respond to those scenes in old movies?”
“Tell me your favorites and I’ll tell you mine,” he challenged.
“Okay. For me it has to be Frontier Gal, Professional Sweetheart and Captain Lightfoot.”
“You have exquisite taste. Mine would be Too Young To Kiss, The Battle of The Villa Florita and The Cave of Memories.”
So he enjoyed juvenile fantasies! This was becoming more deliciously decadent by the moment.
“I’d love to own a pair of ruffled rumba panties,” she mused, referring to a scene in one of the films he had mentioned, “but where does one find them?” she wondered, wildly exhilarated at finally discussing this subject freely and in detail with a knowledgeable, sympathetic male.
“They sell them at Dream Dresser. I’ll buy you some,” Robert promised.
“You will?”
“Speaking of movies, have you ever seen any really good spanking movies?”
“There are specific spanking movies?” she asked, amazed.
“Oh, hundreds. I think I own them all. I’ve been collecting since the days of Super Eight.”
“Are they good?”
“I’ll show you some and you can tell me.”
“I feel like I’m dreaming,” said Hazel.
“How do you think I felt when, idly looking over your galleys, I came across not one but three spanking stories seeded into the magazine? One or two references might be coincidental or unconscious, but three?”
“Do you think other people will notice?”
“Only others of our kind. To return to my tender recollection, I’ve actually been waiting for several weeks for the opportunity to discipline you.” His pointed use of their favorite word made her color yet again. “Your confession today seemed to provide that opportunity,” Robert continued. “Normally, I don’t flirt with my employees, but because of our mutual interest, I felt you might welcome the attention.”
“I’m sure you could see how the spanking affected me.”
“I did seem to notice you not protesting when I first turned you over my knee.”
“But, don’t you have a girlfriend that you spank?” she asked shyly, trying to ignore the rush of pleasure that went through her every time he chanced to utter a potent phrase.
“I go to B&D clubs and play pretty regularly but I have no girlfriend.”
“After you read my stories, what did you think?”
“I thought, ‘She’s into it, she’s brilliant and she works for me. I’ve got to find a reason to spank her.’”
“Were you looking for one all this time?”
“Oh, you don’t know,” he laughed. “I’ve been clocking your arrival to the