Hall of Infamy Read Online Free PDF

was his to take. The thrashing had been for his pleasure and he had made sure that he had taken it at his leisure. Betsy’s part was but to bend over obediently and endure.
    Still, there was pleasure for her in his touch now, and her sobs were sobs of relief more than of pain. There was something indescribably delicious about the feeling of the cold ointment as it soothed her scalded skin and, though she had made little sound through the belting, she could not stop some gasps escaping as he stroked.
    â€˜Don’t tell Miss Amelia about this, Betsy,’ Jamie said with a chuckle. ‘Or that haughty little baggage will start expecting such privileges, too.’
    â€˜Ooh.’ A louder gasp escaped her lips as his fingers started to probe between her thighs. She had been expecting that. Though thankful that the tawse had been put down, she was not yet relaxed. Betsy could feel his hardness pressing into her belly, and it told her that he had not entirely slaked his lust with Miss Clara. Her work was not yet finished for the night. The only question was what form it would take.
    â€˜Well, what a surprise!’
    Although he could not see her face, she hung her head as if to hide her furious blush.
    â€˜You are dripping, girl. Betsy, I declare you really are the most perverse little slut. One only has to lift a hand to you and you start gushing like spring.’
    Betsy yelped as he withdrew his probing hand and gave her still-sore bottom a resounding slap.
    â€˜Right, get down on the floor. I’ll have you on all fours. I was thinking of buggering you, but it seems a pity to waste such lubrication.’
    Betsy scrambled, eager to obey, kneeling on the floor. She dared a furtive glance towards him and caught a glimpse of his hands unbuttoning his flies, then her heart fluttered as he took out his member, stiff as a soldier and with a resplendently crimson head.
    â€˜And anyway, I’m sure Miss Clara has the sweetest little virginal rose-hole, just waiting to be ringed!’
    Betsy had been secretly relieved and pleased to hear that she was to be screwed rather than buggered. The tone of eager anticipation in her master’s voice replaced relief with a hot surge of jealousy. But she was given no time to dwell on the subject.
    â€˜Get your legs wider apart, girl,’ he grunted as he got into position. Betsy complied and grabbed handfuls of the carpet. She gave a low groan as he eased himself into her, then a sharper cry as his well-muscled belly and thighs rammed into the tenderised flesh of her rear. Then he reached round and took a breast in each hand.
    â€˜That’s it. Good girl – let me right up.’ He slid deep inside her. Betsy’s groans turned to high-pitched squeals. With every thrust, she felt herself driven deeper towards complete delirium.
    The relentless squeezing of her breasts wrung frantic cries from her lips, and even Betsy could not have said if they were screams of pain or pleasure. The only thing she still knew was that she had a problem. She could feel Jamie’s climax coming, sense it building as his pelvic thrusts became less controlled. Unfortunately, the position in which he was taking her did not provide contact where she needed it the most. She was moaning with desire now, half-insane with pleasure-pain, but she needed something more to trigger her orgasm. She had received no permission to touch herself, and the thought of doing what she had to do unbidden was dreadfully daunting. But then, that fear just cranked up her arousal to an even higher pitch.
    Finally as Jamie began to groan, she took the chance, lifting one hand from the floor and ramming the heel of her hand over her clitoris. It did not take much, which was just as well, because she did not have much time. Master Jamie was gasping. The orgasm seemed to come from somewhere deep inside her, spreading out in ripples of electrifying pleasure, wiping everything and everybody from her