Rectory of Correction (31 page)

The skirt of Bella's gown was so short it was barely necessary, but Amelia lifted the hem for the guests' delectation.

‘Hold this,' she instructed, making Bella take hold of the hem in her pinioned hands. The guests cheered and there was a great deal of hearty laughter.

‘All right, Arabella,' Amelia said, running her hand up the inside of her captive's thigh. ‘You can stop showing yourself off. It's time to put yourself over my knee.'

Bella bit her lower lip and seemed to be blinking away tears. The sight made Amelia's heart thrill and her loins tingle. Reluctantly, Bella lowered herself over Amelia's lap. At the same time Charlotte put herself over the Reverend's knee. Amelia looked over to where Prentice held Linnet, and then looked to her uncle to signal that she was ready.

 

Kirsty watched the fear enter Fiona's emerald eyes. ‘You see, I heard you betray me...'

‘But he was using the whip... oow!'

Kirsty pinched Fiona's nipple and gave it a little twist for emphasis. ‘I don't care what he used, Fiona. I'm laird and you betrayed me. You are going south with Marie.'

She released the girl's nipple and dropped her hand to grasp and squeeze Fiona's inner thigh, appraising the firm muscle.

‘See, these legs are wasted round here. I'm going to send you to a place where you will be really made to run.' She smiled. ‘Of course, it will be a mite different to the Two Peaks race. You'll have to pull a wee cart – and a vicar!'

 

‘Before we start,' Lord Alex bellowed over the hubbub, ‘after the bridesmaids have been spanked we shall have the raffle. Whilst the bridesmaids are getting their desserts there should just be time for the raffle prizes to replenish the guests' glasses!'

Amelia looked up from the plump bottom on her lap. The Hope Hall maids were dressed in tiny uniforms of black satin, and each one had a disc with a number on a string about her neck. Tottering on vertiginous heels, they began to fill the guests' glasses with wine, amongst much ribald commentary and a good few slaps and pinches.

‘Very well, begin!' Lord Alex said, and Amelia started.

Crack
!
Crack
!
Crack
! She brought her hand down hard, time and again, savouring the way Bella's resilient bottom flesh bounced under the impact.

Smack
!
Smack
!
Smack
! The skin reddened rapidly beneath the rain of spanks. Bella kicked her feet a little and Amelia noticed the girl was clenching her fists against the pain until her knuckles whitened.

Smack
!
Smack
!
Smack
! Amelia's hand was getting very hot, but she relished the sensation, knowing Bella's behind was getting a lot hotter.

Smack
!
Smack
!
Smack
! Now she put her weight into the spanks until Bella let out a little gasp of pain.

Smack
!
Smack
!
Smack
! She started punishing the backs of the girl's thighs, slapping first one leg, then the other. Bella was writhing and strange hissing sounds were escaping her mouth. Amelia felt a terrible joy seize her.

There was only one thing wrong. Next to her, the Reverend's hand was spanking Charlotte's chubby bottom like a steam-driven punishment machine. Bella might be yelping and squirming a bit, but Charlotte was squealing herself hoarse and wriggling so furiously the bridegroom was having to use all his strength to hold her in position. Amelia was damned if she was going to be out-spanked by her husband. She applied herself to Bella's bottom with renewed vigour.

Smack
!
Smack
!
Smack
! She only wished this could go on and on, forever...

 

 

 

It was like a dream, a wonderful, intoxicating dream. Amelia sat on the bed and smoothed cold cream on to her right hand, which was still deliciously warm and throbbing.

‘Richard, what are you doing in there?'

‘Coming, my darling, I won't be a minute.'

Amelia pouted. The reception games had left her so aroused she could hardly wait to get her new husband's hard cock back inside her. They were setting off on honeymoon first thing, and she could hear him clumping about in the room next door, fussing with the luggage.

She could not resist it. Getting up, she stood in front of the full-length mirror and admired her reflection. Amelia had removed her wedding dress, but decided the bridal corset was too fine to take off before Richard had really seen it. A masterpiece of ivory satin and the finest lace, it was equipped with eight suspender drops to hold up the sheerest, most delicate pair of pure white stockings.

Amelia had also kept on short white fingerless lace gloves, a choker of pearls and her bridal veil. She practised looking coy through the veil at her reflection. If she was being a little vain, she thought, it was not without reason.

Her hand trailed across her naked sex. Amelia watched the girl in the reflection caress herself, and felt an intoxicating frisson.

Reluctantly she turned away from the mirror and wandered back to the magnificent four-poster bed, draping herself around one of its oak pillars.

‘Richard!'

‘Patience is a virtue, my pet.'

She was facing away from the door and had not heard him enter. ‘But what took you so long?' she asked.

‘Oh, so many lovely presents. I had to choose what I wanted to whip you with, my precious.'

‘Whip me with...?' Amelia whispered, turning slowly.

The Reverend Richard Dawes stood in the doorway, wearing a quilted smoking jacket and cravat. In his hand he flexed a long thin riding crop. Amelia's studies told her it was a polo whip. The feeling in her belly told her it would hurt like hellfire.

‘Of course.' Her husband smiled. ‘Oh, don't worry, Amelia, I shan't flog you in front of the servants or girls I am disciplining. Indeed, I am counting on your enthusiastic help. But when it is just you and me...' His voice had become a low, ominous growl.

‘But I thought...' she whispered, unable to take her eyes from the crop.

There was a twinkle in his eye. ‘Well, you thought wrong, Amelia. Come on, you know what you need as well as I do. Now, my girl, bend over!'