Perversion Process Read Online Free PDF Page B

chastisement, and pulled 28

    me down over his lap in such a seamless gesture that I almost didn‟t realise what he was doing. Talk about a shift in perspective. There, stomach pressed tightly to his expensively-trousered thighs, legs sloping down to the floor and head dangling perilously close to the shiny leather of his shoe, I truly felt the ignominy of my position. I was not even remotely in control of this situation, even though I was the „client‟ and he the
    „service provider‟. It was such … a relief. Yes. A relief.
    What happened next would not and should not be up to me. I wanted it to be up to him. And I knew he would not fail me.
    „Do you think you‟ll be able to keep still? Or should I hold your wrists behind your back?‟
    „I really don‟t know. I‟ve never …‟
    „All right. We‟ll see how we get on.‟ One hand cupped the tartan seat of my skirt, tapping it lightly and experimentally. „How‟s your pain threshold?‟
    „OK, I think.‟
    „If you get to the point where you really can‟t bear any more, you must tell me. Think of a word.‟
    My mind went blank. Think of a word? What sort of a word? Any old word?
    „Or should I think of one for you?‟
    „Yes please.‟
    „OK, the word is Antidisestablishmentarianism. Got that?‟
    I giggled and squirmed in his lap. „That‟s too long!‟ I objected.
    „You had your chance. Right then. I hear you‟ve been a bad girl, Kat, is that right?‟
    „Yes,‟ I muttered, glad that he could not see my flushed face.
    „Didn‟t catch that, Kat,‟ he said, with a leisurely swipe 29

    of my behind that shocked more than it hurt. „Was that Yes? Or was it Yes, sir? Which do you think is the right answer?‟
    „Yes, sir,‟ I squeaked.
    „Better. So what do you think happens to bad girls, Kat? Bad girls who come to my home?‟
    „I think … they get a spanking, sir.‟
    He rubbed my skirt over my bottom, the hem tickling my thigh so that I wriggled. „Is this irritating you, Kat?
    Perhaps we should get it out of the way.‟ He raised the material to reveal my white cotton briefs, stretched tight over my vulnerable globes. „That was the right answer, incidentally. Well done. Can‟t say it‟s going to spare you any of what‟s coming to you though. Speaking of which …‟
    His hand raised the most resounding crack Oh, on the thin cotton his hand raised the most resounding crack, making me jerk and yelp in surprise. The fabric was barely any barrier at all to his painful purpose, and he rained down a few more, glorying in the crispness and efficiency of his technique, for I was already whimpering and trying to rearrange myself to a less wide-open position on his lap – which he was having none of, of course.
    „You asked for this, Kat,‟ he said warningly. „You know it‟s what you need. You shouldn‟t fight it, should you?‟
    „No, sir.‟
    „No, sir. That‟s right.‟ And his hand was being gentle now, rubbing at the site of the soreness, dissipating the sting. „This‟ll help you take a longer spanking,‟ he told me, ruining my illusion that it was all out of the kindness of his heart. „Short, sharp shocks are all very well, but I think a good, long session over my lap will be better for 30

    you.‟ And with that, he repeated the initial fusillade, peppering me with hard smacks until I tried to cover my backside and, sighing deeply, he was forced to hold my wrists in the small of my back.
    He repeated the punishing process several times until I was no longer able to count, twisting like a tethered eel and failing in my original intention of savouring every moment so it would imprint itself indelibly on my memory. All I could think of was how it hurt and how I could minimise the hurting and how I somehow never wanted it to end all the same. I think I was supposed to be listening to what he was saying too, but his voice, though rather calming with its low, slightly northern, timbre, did not succeed in communicating its