breast, just below the areola.
“Oww! Oh don’t,” Miss Molly squealed, as she made a wild lunge backwards, her splotched bare breasts dancing and jouncing in the most salacious way. But I followed that first attack on her left breast with two more stinging flicks, one on the outer left curve of the luscious white-skinned globe, the other exactly on the other side towards the valley which separated those two plump firm love-globes. Her head fell back and her eyes rolled, and her mouth gaped in strident wails as she twisted her hips this way and that in a desperate attempt to avert the chalorous smack.
“This has a much lovelier sound than the tweezers, don’t you agree, Miss Bashe?” I caustically inquired.
“Ohhh-ahh-oh my Lord-oh, sir, sir, it’s not the sound, it’s how it feels-oh, you are killing me, you are certainly killing me!” she moaned.
Chapter 7
I now cast off my bathrobe and undershirt to indicate to both my charming visitors that I meant business and need no longer disguise my intentions toward either of them. The sight of a half-naked man was apparently distressing to Julia Denton, for I saw her grimace and turn her face away and close her eyes. What would it be like, I wondered to myself, when I was stark naked and the pronounced bulge at the fly of my trousers became palpable and crude reality.
I now turned back to delectable Molly Bashe, who continued to squirm and gasp as the flurried sensations of my dalliance commenced to take ascendancy over her feminine nerves. Lifting up the envelope cutter, I drew back the handle and let it fly against the base of her right breast, directly in the sweet white center. It made a most impressive crisp smack, and the brunette again jerked backwards, dragging at her wrist bonds.
“I propose to keep this up indefinitely,” I told her as I moved to the other breast and drew back my instrument, “so if you have any words to address to me, you had best choose them carefully.” And with this, the metal implement went “Spattt!” against the inner curve of her left breast, once more not only registering a hugely satisfying impact but also immediately splotching the delicate white flesh of that succulent loveglobe.
“Aiiii! Ohh, please don’t! For heaven’s sake not there, for mercy’s sake!” she wailed as her hips executed a frenetic wriggle from side to side. But for all her protests and apparent display of discomfort, I noticed that she had her free leg thrust well out to the left as if it too were bound to the floor ring, and thus, exaggeratedly straddled, she made herself all the more vulnerable and also provocative to my assault.
To vary the little game, I lowered the envelope cutter and let it fly right against her navel, taking her quite by surprise. “Owww-oohhh!” was her sobbing cry, as she jerked her bottom backwards in great haste and turned her face from side to side, her forehead furrowed as if in the deepest concentration.
“You seem to have many sensitive regions, Miss Molly,” I remarked as I now proceeded to cup her left breast in my left hand and draw back the implement in my right. “But I think I much prefer smacking your naughty bosom, which you have been flaunting at me so naughtily. Your mother, with all due respect to her inestimable qualities in other directions, apparently never taught you the sweet maidenly decorum which it is necessary to demonstrate toward a gentleman if you wish his conduct to remain impeccable.” And after this sententious little preamble I brought my right hand down with a short quick stroke to bring the head of the envelope cutter right against her nipple, flattening the tender bud down into its lovely coral areola.
“Oww Ohhh-AARRHHH, oh, Mr. Jack, for Lord’s sake, have mercy, I can’t stand it there so hard, I can’t, truly!” my lovely and secretly willing victim squealed. The tears which broke from her dark blue eyes and rivuleted down her flushed cheeks were not entirely those of a gifted actress; there could be no doubt that Miss Molly Bashe was becoming distressingly aware of the sensitivity of her major erogenous threshold.
“You shall have it there and nowhere else until you beg me to take down your drawers,” was my heartless ultimatum, and even as I uttered it, I heard Julia Denton utter a strangled: “Ohh, is there no one who will save us from this cruel brute?”
“No one, I fear, Miss Denton,” I courteously observed as I turned toward her while I continued to cup Molly Bashe’s right breast and lift the envelope cutter in my right hand over it like a Damoclean sword. “In this world, I fear, one must look to oneself for all resources. But Miss Molly has within her the power to halt this little penance any time she chooses. Reflect upon that, Miss Denton, for I would not have you think that I am other than a man who proceeds out of pure logic and purpose.”
“I–I-think you’re a scoundrel, yes-sir,” she spluttered, her face getting very red, and she again closed her eyes. But the turbulent upheaval of that pair of very delightful breasts which I was dying to see exposed told me that she had been emotionally overwhelmed by what she had seen and heard-and it was only the beginning!
“If you refuse to look, Miss Denton,” I added as I lifted my right hand still higher over Molly Bashe’s panting satiny white bubbie, which by now was quite vividly marked with bright crimson splotches from the envelope cutter, “you only compel me to wrest your attention back to your friend by means of augmenting her much deserved chastisement.” So saying, I made a brisk downward sweep of my right hand, which sent the head of the envelope cutter bouncing off the base of the luscious globe, and Molly Bashe threw back her head and squealed in her most high-pitched tone, “Eeeee-owwouuu!!!! Oh, dear Mr. Jack, for God’s sake don’t keep hitting me on my poor breasts, you’ll mark me for life, they’re so tender, I can’t stand it, I implore you to be merciful!”
“Perhaps this one should have a momentary rest, I agree,” I said ironically, “so let us turn our attention to the other.”
“Oh not that either, oh for Lord’s sake, must you go on punishing me so cruelly?” the brunette sobbed as my left hand now cupped the other luscious loveglobe and lifted the implacable envelope cutter above its heaving turret.
“I must be cruel to be kind, which is a line from a very famous play which I’m sure you ladies have witnessed,” was my mocking observation as my envelope cutter came down with a loud “Smack” that fairly made Miss Molly Bashe jump and then twist her hips from left to right and jut out her bottom as she lunged away from me.
Another two or three flicks followed over the same area, and finally Molly Bashe sobbingly exclaimed, “Ohh, ahh, I can’t bear any more of this, I truly can’t! What must I do to have you stop, oh tell me, tell me, for I cannot stand this awful pain!”
“Your memory is failing you, my dear Miss Molly. But I will indulge you for this once alone. You must beg me humbly to take down your drawers and proceed with your real punishment, which will be the smacking of your big naked bottom!” was my answer.
“Oh heavens, how bestial, how depraved!” Julia Denton cried from the chair of treachery, and once again futilely struggled against its catches. “Must a decent and well bred young woman be subjected to such odious and barbarous treatment? Must I be forced to watch while you wreak your disgusting sensuality on my poor helpless friend?”
I glanced at Molly Bashe, and her humid and dilated eyes seemed to flash me a message. “Why, no, Miss Denton,” I slowly remarked. “I shall be inclined to spare your friend on the condition that she aids me in letting you expiate your own naughtiness. I will not brook lightly those insults you have been flinging at me ever since we entered this room.”
“Ohhhh!!!” Words cannot describe the disbelief in Julia Denton’s voice, nor even begin to picture the mingled play of emotions on her lovely, haughty and supercilious features.
I turned back to the half-naked brunette, and again gripping her left breast with my left hand, I applied three stinging cracks with the head of the envelope cutter right over her darkened, stiffened nipple. When her wails and cries and lungings had subsided, I demanded, “Are you ready now to mitigate your punishment by aiding me with your overbearingly arrogant friend, Miss Molly, or shall I continue for a little while longer? Perhaps a bouquet of freshly cut nettles flicked against your bosom will give you pause to think.” And with this I pretended to walk back to my desk, though I actually had no such a bouquet ready. Nettles leave ugly blisters, and while they produce a sensual heat which often leads the sufferer to exchange it for a different and more pleasing kind of lustful heat, by which I mean fucking, I am too fastidious to leave permanent marks on the lovely flesh of my partners in these diverting amorous games.
Nonetheless, my false maneuver convinced Molly Bashe that I meant to carry out the threat and she
