Free An Unacceptable Arrangement by Victoria Winters Page B

over, his arousal at her touch shocking him. He was
fully erect now and straining towards her, wanting to claim her
once again.
    He stepped forward until he was up against
her and kissed her deeply, and then grabbed her buttocks with his
hands, squeezing. She groaned at the painful sensation and stepped
back, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. But he held fast.
    “Ho, what is this? What have we here?” he
asked, pretending that he was becoming aware of her wheals for the
first time. Cassandra looked up at him in horror; he had felt her
welts! Now he would know her secret.
    Frederic sat back down on the bed and before
she knew what was happening she found herself lying over his lap,
hands and toes grappling for purchase on the floor. He began to
stroke her buttocks from top to bottom. He let his fingers roam
over her cheeks, dancing lightly over her welts. There were dozens
of ridges, some large, some smaller and several blisters where the
tips had hit. The birching she’d endured had definitely been recent
and severe.
    “How did you come by these, little one?” he
asked. She squealed and bucked as he pinched a particularly vivid
welt. She looked back at him over her shoulder and nervously
explained.
    “My... my father chastised me the day before
yesterday, sir.”
    “With what?”
    “Wh... what?”
    “What implement did he use on your beautiful
behind, my dear?”
    “He... he birched me, Sir,” she whispered,
then hid her face in her hands.
    “On the bare?” he asked.
    “Yes,” she whimpered, ashamed to admit
so.
    Frederic closed his eyes, imagining Cassandra
letting down her drawers and lifting her skirts, exposing herself
for her father’s chastisement. He almost came at the image but
pulled himself back from the brink.
    “Your crime?” he asked.
    “Disobedience... and... and sassiness, my
Lord,” she replied, her voice choking with shame.
    “Punishable offenses indeed,” he tsked,
manfully keeping a chuckle from his voice. He then maneuvered her
slightly forward so that he could look upon her little cunny. He
spread her legs apart and studied her nether lips. Those, too, were
welted. He began to stroke the lines he found there. “Even here you
were struck?” he asked with awe, awaiting her reply.
    She gave a start as she felt his fingers
stroking her there. “He... he aimed repeatedly for that spot,” she
hissed. She wondered what his reaction would be. Would he be
outraged that she’d been struck, angry that her father had birched
his grown daughter? Would he disapprove of the corporal punishment
of females? She got her answer immediately.
    “I’m afraid that is necessary in the
disciplining of females,” her new husband murmured. Cassandra had
her answer. It sounded like Frederic was a knowledgeable and
experienced disciplinarian. She now strongly suspected that she
would be bending for correction from him, perhaps even more often
than her father had required. Frederic noted the involuntary
clenching at his implied threat and smiled knowingly.
    “Sometimes females are restrained during
correction. Did your father restrain you?” He didn’t think he could
get any harder as she hesitantly confided the details of her
birching to him.
    “No... no Sir,” she spoke, in a little girl
voice.
    “You were required to hold position during
the entire session?”
    “Yes, sir. If I had risen or tried to cover
myself, he would have just started over.”
    “You are a very courageous girl. And how many
strokes of the birch were you given?”
    “I... I lost count,” she moaned. Her new
husband would think her to be very naughty indeed.
    “The two of you were alone, in his study?” he
guessed.
    “No my Lord, my mother was there
watching.”
    He closed his eyes, letting a small sigh
escape as he envisioned his little wife bent over – a desk, a chair
– bottom bared, submissively awaiting her upcoming chastisement. He
could not wait to have her bow before him and submit to his
discipline. He once