Paddle, Cane and a Scalded Ass

Though there are still a couple feet of snow on the ground, it looks like Spring is finally on its way! This is something to celebrate, here in the frozen north.

With spring this year comes a new Lizbeth Dusseau title:
Spontaneous Combustion
Look for it mid-April
 
For now, a hot, sexy and sensuous punishment scene between a Master and his new sub. 

The novel, Against Her Will: The Abduction of Kat Bloom,  has always been one of my favorite books... Meredith and Alain one of my favorite D/s couples. Because certain words are now banned on some of the large retail ebook sites, you may need to search for this novel with it's "vanilla" name: The Seduction of Kat Bloom

Excerpt: Paddle, Cane and a Scalded Ass
From Against Her Will: The Abduction of Kat Bloom
by Lizbeth Dusseau (c) Copyright 2006, all rights reserved.

What led to the first skirmish between these two unlikely lovers was probably apropos; their relationship began at the office, and it was one of Meredith Shaw’s nervous faux pas that ignited the smoldering fires in them both. Alain was working late on a new case that had landed on his desk that day, when the new file clerk from records appeared at his door and abruptly stopped on seeing him pouring over the evidence file on his desk. The lovely brunette Meredith Shaw honestly didn’t know he’d be there. In fact, she had intended to slip the missing files on his desk as if they’d been delivered by a thief giving back what he’d just snatched. Now with him still hard at work, she couldn’t be that shrewd.

    She held her breath waiting for Alain to raise his head, then noted the look of surprise when he finally did.

    “Miss Shaw?”

    “Sir?”

    “Is there a reason why you’re standing at my door?”

    “Yes, sir. I-I heard you were looking for these …um… files.” She walked forward and placed them on his desk, although before she could draw back her hand he had one wrist clutched inside his steely palm. They hadn’t seen each other since the signing of the contract was completed in the presence of Mistress Ana and Janis Duncan at the X-Club two nights prior. It had been his plan to initiate their relationship at her apartment that night. But now she was so far inside his space it was impossible to stop what thundered through his anxious body.

    He swiveled in his desk chair, while guiding the lovely young woman so she was directly between his open thighs, his hand still tightly grasping her wrist.

    “I thought that your working in Records would place less stress on you.”

    She smiled weakly, chagrined. “I’m so nervous.”

    “I can see.”

    “I’m sorry to let you down. I really don’t know what happened to those files on the gallery theft, but it won’t happen again.” She looked down at the Captain – her master – gulping back her threatening tears, while feeling her entire body shiver as he conveyed the authority, the calm, the good judgment she so longed to experience from a man.

    “No, it won’t happen again, or I’ll have no choice but to let you go.”

    “Please, sir, I can’t lose this job!”

    “Then you know what you have to do.” He waited for her response and when there was none, he added, “Maybe now’s the time to properly deal with your recent mistakes. Perhaps, getting punished will work where lectures failed?”

    She blinked and bit her lower lip, every nerve in her was on fire, as Alain let go of her hand, rose from his chair and directed his quivering submissive to the far side of his desk. He closed and locked his office door, pulled the blinds and moved to a nearby cabinet from which he withdrew a three inch spanking paddle and a bamboo cane.

    “The paddle’s to warm your ass. The cane’s to up the pain. Bend over, Miss Shaw.”

    As if she’d been shocked, the electricity in the air attacked her body. She was so frightened that she could barely move, but she did manage to bend over the desk and rest her torso on her arms. From the corner of her eye, she watched her master lay the tools down beside her, then remove his coat and roll the sleeves of his starched white shirt to the elbow. Why this image had such a daunting effect on a submissive, she couldn’t explain, but they both understood the power of an act that was almost a cliché in the Dominant/submissive mindset.

    “The paddle’s to warm your ass. The cane’s to up the pain.”

    The words moved through her mind another trigger for her astonishing arousal. Never. Never had it been like this before. Her shudder deepened as she watched him pick up the leather paddle, and then again as he moved around behind her and carefully lifted her skirt. As he reached for the band of her nylon panties, she emitted a small groan. Every excruciating second ticked by in slow motion, drawn to a finely turned edge before the next began. So nervous, so aroused, she was about to spontaneously come. However, her feelings promptly changed. After he drew the nylon over her bottom and down to the top of her thighs, he positioned himself for the best angle, and SMACK!

    She lunged forward, gasping from the sudden and brutal sting.

    Again and again, the surface of her bare ass took the repeated blows from the not-so-mild leather. This was hardly warming up; she was hot from the start, punished, rebuked and reprimanded for a string of mistakes, missteps and thoughtless blunders she’d committed over the last year, as if the collective disapproval of Captain Danvers and his staff was finally being realized in this one punitive expression.

    She hung on, cringing desperately, vowing that she wouldn’t cry out no matter what. A prudent decision on her part – in the past Alain was known to gag a distraught sub who showed no inclination to contain her emotions.

    When he finally paused, it was long enough for Meredith to feel a sudden, surging heat spread throughout her lower regions. Then when he started in again, he aimed for her upper thighs and moved even lower, where the skin could barely take the punishing blows. He retreated briefly to her reddened ass end, then returned to her thighs, and went back and forth until a string of muffled moans escaped her lips and her tortured behind made some efforts to escape further beating.

    She slumped miserably against the desk when he finally stopped.

    “Pull yourself back upright, young lady!” he crisply ordered.

    She struggled with the command, but was then rewarded for her efforts with the palm of his large hand covering one ass cheek. He gently squeezed. It was all she could do not to wriggle against the sweetness of that tender caress. He held her at the ass and the shoulder as if he were laying claim to her body and soul, a declaration more lucid than any contract she would ever sign.

    “If ever there was a woman who needed a firm hand to guide them, it is you, Meredith.”

    Oh, dear! She never remembered him calling her anything but Miss Shaw.

    “And you have much to atone for.”

    He backed away leaving the imprint of his virile energy crawling through her aroused body.

    “And not a sound,” he warned tersely, as he plucked the cane from his desk.

    She cringed but she didn’t utter a word, while pouring every ounce of determination into bearing the pain she knew would follow. Never had it been more clear to her that this strict discipline was exactly what her life had been missing, and that Alain Danvers was the perfect man to effectively deliver that discipline

Directly across her two smoldering ass cheeks, Alain laid the first angry cut of the bamboo cane. He felt every one ripple through his nerves as it laid a dark red welt through the deep pink blush of Meredith Shaw’s lovely ass. One…two…three…four…five…six…

    His cock was ravenous and his full power engaged for the final six cuts that made successive lines down her lower ass cheeks to the tender flesh of her upper thighs. As each one struck, he felt every nerve in Meredith’s body seize up …seven… eight…nine… and heard her strain valiantly to muffle her response to the fierce pain; it wasn’t easy… ten… eleven… twelve.

    Done at last, he laid the cane back on his desk next to the paddle, then moved in close behind her, reaching in-between her thighs with one hand and embracing her with his other arm.

    “Feet apart,” he ordered, to give himself greater access to the wet treasure of her sex. Wet, indeed! A deluge of fragrant juices escaped her vagina and covered his hand. Her body seized up as he toyed with the molten valley, as she moaned, reaching her orgasm almost from the very first touch. Two at first, then three fingers slipped into the clenching cavern while he listened for her responding gasp. Then he used his fingers like a cock, bringing her to one, then another, then another climax. Three times she shuddered against him, almost crying, and certainly too overcome to know exactly what was happening. As her plight deepened in intensity, he pulled in directly behind her ass, and setting his organ free, plunged into the steamy cunt, letting her spasming muscles work him to the finish.

    His erection surged on, pounding her forcefully, then at the moment he came, he clutched her punished cheeks in his hands and let go with groans that came from deep in his gut.

    The two remained fused together for sometime after the last of their spasms died away. His hard-on receded and they caught their breath. Then awakening from his sexual stupor, he kissed the back of her neck and her mass of unruly hair and behind her ear, where his tongue lovingly probed.

    He hadn’t felt like this in years. So alive. So powerful. So in charge. This woman now owned, surrendered, his to mold as he desired.

    When they finally broke apart, she, without being told, dropped to her knees between his legs and cleaned his organ with her mouth, laving it lovingly until he carefully pushed her back.

    “It’s good there are some things you don’t have to be told,” he said kindly.

    “I pleased you?” she gazed up in awe.

    “Enough for one night, yes.”

    By the time Meredith was on her feet, his cock was back inside his pants and he sat behind his desk looking as calm as he had when she first entered the office.

What intimacy the two shared became cloaked behind the veil of their chosen roles. He could only give her small pieces of himself, when in fact, he was having the overpowering urge to dive in totally. But, being a master of his emotions, he contained them well for the moment. Urges to entangle himself in her life needed to be purged of the aggressive force behind them. He could give nothing away too soon. Dominant men did not do that; they didn’t wear their feelings on their sleeves and they couldn’t display any weakness until their control had been firmly established. He knew all this as he tucked his feelings back inside his clothes as neatly as he’d earlier tucked away his cock.

    “Thank you, sir,” the quivering young woman managed.

    Alain couldn’t be sure, but she seemed more nervous than she was before. Normally punishment whacked the tension from a frightened submissive. But it was safe to assume that she was still in awe of what they were about: his obligation to punish her faults, her commitment to surrender, and his right to use her body for his personal pleasure. It was certainly a terrifying if not, arousing situation she’d openly agreed to. 

    “My duty and my pleasure,” he replied to her ‘thank you’, resuming his typically curt manner. “While this was not exactly what I had in mind for your initiation, I think it serves us both well. And it should remind you, that your job is all part of the package with me. I expect you’ll reform your ways in Records and do your work efficiently. I don’t think you’re a dumb woman.”

    “I’m not, sir,” she rushed in, as was typical.

    Meanwhile, he leaned back in his desk chair. “You went to college, hum?”

    “Yes, sir, four years.”

    “What did you study?”

    “Art, poetry and literature.”

    He looked a little stunned. “So why, in heavens name, are you working here?”

    “I needed the job, sir. I have to eat.”

    She was perfectly serious. He smiled, amused.

    “Have you ever thought that you might be wasting your talents working in a police station?”

    “Of course, except that I don’t know my talents. I love the arts, but I’m not very good at them.”

    “I see. Is that your assessment or your instructors’?”

    “I’m not really sure, sir.”

    “Well, it’s time you were sure about something, Miss Shaw. Paint me a picture, write me a poem, a story something…anything.”

    She gazed back puzzled. “You mean that?”

    “Yes. I mean that. There’s got to be more to Meredith Shaw than a beautiful body, a sweet smile, and incoherent conversation.”

    “Yes, sir. I’ll see what I can do.”

    “Don’t see about it, just do it.”

    “Yes, sir.” She nervously fumbled with her skirt, having just realized that it was all cockeyed. “Now may I go, sir?”

    All of a sudden she was anxious to leave. He was amused again. She wasn’t unlike most submissives when they’d had enough. And indeed, they’d both had enough for one night. “Yes, you may go.”

An Afternoon with Naughty Niki

Just like the title says...this week's post is an afternoon romp with Naughty Niki, from the novel of the same name. 

One reviewer called this work a literary wetdream.  I'm good with that, hoping that all my novels achieve that status, since that is the aim of good erotica...at least from my POV. Niki gives new meaning to the word slut.

Naughty Niki

Excerpt
Copyright (c) 2007, by Lizbeth Dusseau. All rights reserved

Each time Niki screwed a man, the sex was hot, but over so quickly that she hardly remembered the men’s faces. She never even asked their names. After every promiscuous encounter, she swore that she would stop – this was getting dangerous – but her unspoken vows did little once that verboten desire for sex was ramped up and ready. When she was horny, she was on the prowl.

    Over the last few weeks, Niki had been making eyes at several of the sexy men that worked on the house, but she let these remain mere flirtations. Anything that close to home; eventually Bernardo was sure to find out, she reasoned.

    But then came Reuben. For days he’d silently watched her from afar. While others engaged her with teasing conversations, Reuben said nothing, remaining on the sidelines observing how she exhibited herself in her swimsuits, and short skirts with tiny thongs underneath. He’d seen her bend over, just like the other men had. He’d seen down the front of her blouses where her naked titties invited lewd glances.

    Niki knew she was being observed by the man, and this unnerved her. Reuben was the new foreman, a real man in charge, and he wasn’t like the young bucks that worked for him. His eyes could drill right down to the bedrock of her soul’s deepest cravings. He was most like Bernardo of all the men she knew, but he was also very different from Bernardo. Common. Crude, sometimes even swarthy, with none of Bernardo’s impeccable polish. He was a stocky, well-built man with muscled shoulders, a trim waist and a deep rich tan. Being not as handsome as the men who normally attracted her, there was something frightening in his rough face, and an energy about him that she wanted to stay clear of. And yet, day after day, she would be drawn to the eyes that enveloped her when they chanced to meet. Sometimes, she found herself studying him from across the construction site, and his gaze would suddenly be drawn her way. She’d instantly freeze up and look away. What was he thinking? What did he want? Maybe nothing at all. Maybe this was just her own desires playing tricks on her. Perhaps he didn’t want her at all.

In the heat of the day one afternoon, Niki brought fresh cold water to the workers, and plenty of ice. She wore a pair of pastel blue shorts, pale pink snake-skin sandals and a white halter top, all of which enhanced her look of sexual innocence – as sweet as a sexy confection, delectable enough to devour. She’d been standing with her back to the site talking pleasantly with one of the men when she felt something stab her in the back, not a hand or a knife but a forceful, unearthly shock of energy that felt very much like the blade of a knife. She turned abruptly, and Reuben was there standing a few feet away.

    “Ice, ma’am?” he said politely.

    Nothing weird about that.

    “Of course,” she handed him the bucket and he plunged a plastic cup inside, gathering up a full glass.

    The other men had scattered, most going back to work, and none were close enough to hear the exchange between the lady of the house and their burly foreman.

    “Better watch the way you wave that pretty ass, Mrs. Sanchez,” he spoke in a low, gravelly voice.

    She stood back, stunned by his comment.

    “You’ll be alone tonight,” he went on, as if he already knew the answer.

    Yes, she was going to be alone, but how would he know that? A lucky guess? Bernardo was gone. The housekeeper’s day off. And the cook had asked to leave early. She’d most certainly be alone all night long, alone and vulnerable in the hacienda, except for the groundskeeper, Enrico, who normally spent his evenings in the small shed Bernardo provided for him. He preferred that to a room in the servant’s quarters.

    “What are you getting at?” Niki was getting scared and Reuben could see that.

    Then, suddenly, he began to grin, turning a dour face into a much more handsome one than she’d seen from him before. “I’ll see you after my crew leaves.” He said no more, but turned and walked away, refusing to listen as she tried to call him back:

    “But—”

    Halfway across the site, he began lifting rafters with one of his men, and for sixty seconds she stood petrified and unable to move, her gaze fixed on the taut muscles straining under the heavy weight of the timbers. Her crotch grabbed at the feelings that came surging forth, but then tossed them off before she hastily retreated into the house.
   
Late in the day, the interior of the hacienda was covered in afternoon shadows, and hiding in one particularly remote one was Niki, waiting for the foreman Reuben to appear as he said he would. The threat – was it a threat or just a promise? – had completely unnerved her. She hoped that maybe he wouldn’t see her in her hiding place. She heard the creaking of the floorboards first, then the sound of boots on terracotta. A moment later, the figure of the man emerged, bathed in the sensuous glow that reflected off the stucco walls of the open portico.

    And he had seen her.

    “By yourself?”

    “I am,” she answered. She’d had three hours to think about the foreman, and about what she’d do if he assaulted her. But thinking meant very little when her body was careening out of control. Her lust seemed to lead her now. If she’d been truly afraid of Reuben, she could have driven into town. She could have called her husband. Could have dialed the police. But she didn’t do any of those things. Instead, she let her desires percolate deep in her belly, in that place that Reuben had already scouted out for himself so many times with his conquering eyes.

    For all her fear and anticipation, Niki knew what would happen, how she’d react, how she’d finally give in and surrender to that muscled body and its forceful ways.

    “Little bitch likes to get my boys all riled up,” he said. “You may be the woman of the house, but you’re nothing but a tramp.” Even from across the room she could feel his beating sexual energy, and with it, the sweltering afternoon heat rose a few degrees higher.

    “Yeah, I guess I am.” Her tensed body started to thaw, the blood running wildly through her veins with the savagery of an impending hard, hot fuck becoming real. Her pussy juiced. And her belly turned a thousand somersaults in the time it took Reuben to move from the shadows of the hallway, into the shadows of the space two feet before her.

    In a flash, he reached out, pulling her out of the chair in which she hid and drawing her to him, pressed his lips cruelly against hers, his tongue forced her mouth to open. She wanted to stop him, but she didn’t know how to make that happen. When he finally pushed her off him, he kept on pushing her at the chest just above her heart, backing her down the hallway toward the bedroom. He knew exactly where he wanted to go. She could hardly see his face for the darkness, but she knew that he scowled with the same fixed scowl she’d seen him wear so many times. Her heart was beating, her head pounding with blood, her legs and feet could barely carry her backwards to the bedroom, but that was where she finally landed. He backed her all the way to Bernardo’s enormous master bed, and pushed her down against the mattress.

    Then he climbed on after her, with his right hand going directly between her legs and feeling the warm, wet, welcoming juices.

    He seemed to smile wickedly, although she couldn’t say for sure that he smiled at all; nothing in these tumultuous minutes seemed quite real. She expected his cock to break her sex apart, but instead of feeling the hard pulse of his erection banging inside her, she felt his mouth, his lips, his teeth angrily moving on her swollen clit and her sensitive sex lips.

    Her hips churned back and forth against the mattress, body rasping with unwanted pleasure, meanwhile her hands reached out to the side and grabbed fistfuls of sheets to hold her steady. She didn’t dare reach down and touch him, she was scared, frightened of the man and the powerful force that rose up inside her with his mouth latched tightly against her pussy.

    “No, No, No! You’ve got to stop!” she yelled as if someone might come to her rescue. Then she bolted upright with plans to fight him off.

    Sensing her fierce anger, Reuben pulled up and slapped her face, sending her body back down. “Take it, bitch,” his low voice seethed.

    He resumed eating out her snatch with a fervor that mixed pain and pleasure in a chaotic tango so unnerving that she was quickly dizzy and even more afraid, yet on the brink of cumming.

    “God, godgodgod no…” she screamed this time. Her body fought him still, thrashing back and forth, her groin bucking nastily against his mouth, although her burning cheek reminded her not to rise up again. As much as she wanted him to stop, she wanted to get off. After having resigned herself to being used, she couldn’t understand why she resisted, why she fought so fiercely.

    And suddenly pissed that she refused to settle down, Reuben flipped her over and started spanking her ass with the flat of his palm. Every strike hurt, yet between each one, he rubbed the hurting flesh, until she began to want him to spank her more.

    “Yes, yes, goddamn it yes,” she seethed heatedly. Did he hear her? Did she want him to? She was too confused to understand exactly what she needed now.

    He spanked her hard a dozen times without stopping, then he flipped her over to her back and began stripping away his pants. Once he finally released his cock, he straddled her body and moved forward until his crotch was at her face. He forced her lips wide open, demanding she take his steely prick inside her mouth, “Suck it, slut!”

    She sucked with a mouth so ravenous by then that she might have done anything he asked, gone to the ends of the earth for him, let him slap her face more, or spank her harder, beat her into submission. Her body had never been so riled, so full of itself and sexually craving. While his orgasm began to build with fervor, she could feel hers not far off. She expected that any moment he would end this foreplay, shoving his dick down her throat, or backing down and plunging his member into her aching love hole.

    But when he did back off, he flipped her over one more time, and pried her ass cheeks wide, fingering her asshole with something cold. Then he lunged with a suddenness that caught her off guard.

    She gasped. A fierce pain ripped through her.

    He stopped, and grabbed her hair. “Open, bitch, or you gonna be hurting for a week,” he warned.

    Open, yes, open…the words meant nothing to her, but something in her body seemed to understand what was needed, and her inner muscles eased off allowing him to take her ass with little pain. She closed her eyes, made fists of her hands and held on. While seeing stars inside her eyelids, an unexpected inner orgasm erupted deep within her body. Pain and pleasure collided, while Reuben ejaculated into the tight space, making a low guttural sound that vibrated through all of Niki’s frayed nerves.

    Before she could gather her thoughts, he was on his feet, standing over her. “I wasn’t wrong about you, Mrs. Sanchez,” he stated the fact plainly.

    He started to leave.

    “What do you mean, you weren’t wrong about me?” she called after him.

    He stopped and turned back. This time she could see his face clearly, no shadows to hide the scowl. But while he let her see his expression of remote contempt, he didn’t answer her question, but turned again and continued out the bedroom door to the back of the house.

For several minutes, Niki stared at the door, afraid of her thoughts, her satisfied body, the lingering emotions just couldn’t be explained. What had just happened was too awesome to contemplate now. When she finally moved off the bed and to her feet, she stripped the sheets on which they screwed and took them directly to the washing machine, stuffing them inside. It took twenty minutes for her to figure out how to use the damn thing, but once she finally had the washing machine cleaning the sex stains from the dirty laundry, she let go a relieved sigh.

    Returning to the bedroom, she sprayed perfume into the musty air and turned up the fans. No one could know about this afternoon. No one.

                                                                                               ***
                  Some women need to be fucked and used hard. This one did. ~ Rueben

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