Saturday Spanking — September 12, 2020

Another taste of history – in 1855 four daring thieves stole £12,000 worth of gold from the Folkestone train. It was as though the gold had vanished between London and Paris, and Scotland Yard had no clues. My book, Margaret and the Train Robbers, my lady detective traces the path used by the actual detective to apprehend the villains. However, there are some differences {wink}. In this snippet, Margaret is working her way into the trust of her prime suspect…

Excerpt:

After allowing me a half hour and another snifter of brandy to regain my composure, he positions me draped over the foot rail of the bed. He retrieves his cane and toys with me as he swishes it through the air, and then teasingly taps my bottom several times with it.

“Please, sir, while you may do what you wish, your humble servant begs that you consider a different implement to punish her.” I try one last time to forego the pain of his cane, though I know that I must endure whatever he presents to encourage him to show me the gold.

“Not today, my dearest Marge. I’ve waited too long for this pleasure.” Lady Barnet had cheated him of his last attempt to cane me.

The first CRACK is surely the worst and I scream for the second time since entering his bedroom. I hold my position and remain silent – gripping the bed sheet – through the following burning hot five CRACKS of the cane upon my soft fanny. When he finishes, he stands me nude before the mirror and while tears stream down my face I examine the welted stripes across my swollen butt – six evenly spaced parallel lines.

“My best work, I do believe,” he says, pinching my fanny’s left cheek while admiring his artwork.

Pulling back the covers from the bed, he lays me on my side and hands me the refilled brandy glass. “This will help,” he says and I pull several long sips. After finishing the wine, I feign sleep. I allow the glass to slip from my fingers and gently drop to the floor. Slowly, I roll onto my belly.

A half hour or so passes before I become aware that he is dressing. As he quietly slips through the bedroom door, I roll from the bed and search in the dark for my clothes. At first I attempt to pull on my chemise and drawers, but I quickly decide that too much time is passing and I will lose track of him. So I slip naked into the dark hall.