Dungeon Crawl #9

Welcome to the ninth week of Dungeon Crawl. Each Wednesday, writers of BDSM will be sharing snippets from their work, and folks will be crawling round to each of them and enjoying, and hopefully adding lots of cool books to their to be read lists.

So, without further ado, here’s my snippet for this week, which is from Stately Pleasures. Don’t forget to scroll down when you’re done reading and go and check out the other blogs on the hop. Happy crawling!

‘Probably wise.’

Jeremy stepped back into Alice’s peripheral vision, presumably to give Ethan room for manoeuvre. His expression was perfectly sober, but a glance down told her that he hadn’t been exaggerating about the erection – it tented his smart jeans and made her wish he had just stuck it inside her, like he’d threatened to.

She didn’t have too much time to think about being fucked by Jeremy, though, as she heard a small whooping noise – the sound of the wooden ruler rushing through the air – then the slap of it hitting her arse. Just as the thought that it hadn’t hurt was about to cross her mind, the pain hit. A sharp, stinging sensation raced in a diagonal stripe across her right cheek. Much to her pride, she didn’t yell or scream. She just pulled in a sharp breath and screwed her eyes shut, breathing in and out slowly and steadily, trying to work her way through the pain.

She’d just about dealt with it when the next blow came, this time on her left cheek. Gripping her hands tightly around the edge of the desk she was bent over, she watched as the knuckles turned white, determined to let nothing but the most negligible of noises pass her lips. Again, as the white-hot fire burned through her nerve endings, she sucked in a breath and bit her bottom lip. She would not cry out. She would not.

Given her relative silence, it seemed Ethan thought he wasn’t hitting her hard enough. Or fast enough. After the searing agony of the second blow had dulled into a more manageable ache, he started to spank her more rapidly and with increased force. Alice was incredibly glad that neither of the men had asked her to count the strokes, because there was no way she’d have been able to. The pain was just too much.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

By the time the blows ceased, Alice was collapsed onto the desk, her upper body crushed against it, with silent tears running down her face. But she hadn’t screamed, or yelled. Granted, she’d almost clawed holes in the desk, and bitten her lip until it bled, but still, she’d kept quiet. And for that, she was incredibly proud of herself.

Want more? Grab your copy of Stately Pleasures here.