Forbidden Reading Read Free

‘I’ve done as you asked. Now let me have the keys so I can leave here.’
    ‘In good time,’ the woman promised.
    Her voice had taken on a husky quality that was rich with arousal. The feral scent of womanly musk struck Justine’s nostrils and she wondered if she was drinking the perfume of the stranger or that of her own excitement.
    ‘I made a promise, and I intend to honour it, but I want you to turn your back to me first. I want you to face the wall.’
    Knowing she had to do as she was told, Justine turned to the wall. She had time to notice that a fresh layer of panelling now stood where she had expected to find the switch, dimly realised that someone had laid careful plans to ensnare her in this situation, and then she was closing her eyes against the shame of being caressed. Cool hands stroked over her back, hips and buttocks. Inquisitive fingers pushed between her thighs and she was chilled when the woman’s fingers stroked the wet flesh of her labia. As treacherous as her nipples, the inner muscles of her sex trembled eagerly as though they yearned for more than mere titillation.
    ‘Beautiful,’ the woman whispered. ‘Truly, truly beautiful.’
    For an instant Justine thought she might know who her tormentor was. Something in the woman’s phrasing sparked a memory at the back of her mind and she could feel herself on the brink of making the connection. Then, when the fingers returned to her sex and rubbed at the split of her pussy lips, all such trivial considerations were cast aside. She had to swallow down another rush of mounting panic and bite her tongue to prevent a moan of encouragement falling from her lips.
    ‘I was right when I guessed what you wanted before,’ the woman breathed. ‘You want a damned good thrashing, don’t you? That’s why you’ve come down here.’
    ‘No,’ Justine said, praying her voice would sound steady. ‘I don’t want a damned good thrashing. I only want you to give me the keys so I can get out of here.’
    The hands stopped stroking her body and for one foolishly optimistic moment, Justine thought the woman was finally going to relent.
    Then she heard the whistle of leather breaking air.
    Before she could glance back over her shoulder, before she had the opportunity to protest, the sting of a tawse seared through Justine’s backside. A blister of agony spiked her rear and she howled at the painful indignity. While she was still acclimatising her body to the discomfort, she heard the hiss of the leather falling again and tried to brace herself for the second punishing shot.
    ‘Tell me you wanted this thrashing.’
    ‘I didn’t want this thrashing,’ Justine wailed.
    ‘Tell me this is what you’ve been needing.’
    ‘I only want the keys so I can get out of here.’
    ‘Tell me what I want to hear, then I’ll give you the keys.’
    The woman delivered a volley of agonising blows, spiking flesh and coming close to stripping the skin away. After less than half a dozen slices of the tawse Justine had stopped squealing and her respiration had turned into a frantic chug for oxygen. Her rear was ablaze with the punishing torment and she felt dizzy and close to collapse.
    ‘Tell me what I want to hear, then I’ll give you the keys,’ the woman demanded. ‘I’m not asking a lot, am I?’
    ‘Very well,’ Justine grunted. She didn’t want to submit to the woman but she saw her options had been skilfully whittled away. ‘If that’s what you want to hear, then yes: I’ve wanted this thrashing.’
    ‘Touch yourself while you say that.’
    Justine stiffened and started to shake her head. It had been traumatic enough undressing, and she still couldn’t believe she was allowing the woman to brutalise her with the length of leather, but the idea of following this final instruction was more than she could bear. She told herself she had to refuse, and that the submission had gone far enough but, because the command was delivered with another searing blow,