The Brat and the Master - a BDSM Erotic Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

leather, his longcoat open at one side to show off a riding whip hung from his belt. His expression was amused and faintly supercilious, which served to fuel Adam’s rising irritation, and he put more effort still into the spanking, but with no noticeable effect.
    ‘Your hand will be as sore as her bottom,’ the man remarked. ‘Let me show you how it’s done – if I may, Lady Sappho?’
    Adam had been about to refuse when Elaine gave a courteous nod to the newcomer, who spoke again.
    ‘Hold her around the waist, tightly. This is me, Cakemix, but you already knew that, didn’t you?’
    Cakemix responded with a muted whimper and twisted around to turn her now frightened face to the tall man as he unclipped the riding whip from his belt. Feeling somewhat out of his depth, Adam took her firmly around her middle and leaned back slightly, offering her bottom as a target. The man nodded and flexed his whip, then stepped back a little to lay it across the crest of her cheeks. She began to shake, quite badly, and was making odd little mewling noises through her mouthful of panty material, but she made no effort to get up.
    ‘She knows her master,’ the man remarked. ‘Don’t you, Cakemix?’
    She gave an urgent nod and he went on.
    ‘Six hard strokes, Cakemix, for being a brat to this young gentleman.’
    He lifted the whip as he spoke and brought it back down across her bottom hard and fast, smacking into her flesh to make her jerk and gulp on the panties in her mouth. It left her with a long, pale line across her cheeks, which quickly turned red, while her shaking grew more violent still. Adam kept his grip, not knowing what else to do. Cakemix was obviously hurt and in distress, but she still made no effort to escape her fate, while Elaine was watching the beating with a cool smile.
    ‘Who’s your master?’ the man asked, and before Cakemix could answer him, he brought the whip down again in a short, vicious arc that once again ended across her bottom. ‘Tell me, Cakemix, who is your master?’
    At first, she didn’t seem in any state to answer, sobbing and gulping in her pain, but then she quickly pulled her panties from her mouth in order to speak, her voice now rich with emotion.
    ‘You are, sir. Master Steelhand.’
    ‘That’s right,’ he replied, tapping the whip across her bottom once more. ‘I am, aren’t I? And has any other man truly mastered you?’
    ‘No,’ she answered promptly, then cried out as the whip lashed down across her bottom for a third time.
    Steelhand gave a soft, amused chuckle and with a single, deft motion he reversed the whip in his fingers, offering the handle to Adam.
    ‘Have a try. Lay it across her bottom first, with the sting three-quarters of the way across her far cheek. Yes, like that, and don’t be scared to put a little force into it. Cakemix is used to punishment, and she deserves everything she gets – don’t you, Cakemix?’
    ‘Yes, Master Steelhand,’ Cakemix answered.
    Adam measured the whip up across her cheeks, lifted it and brought it down with a firm smack. To his relief, Cakemix responded with a gasp of pain and a sudden kick of her legs, while the stroke left a satisfyingly colourful welt across her buttocks, a little lower than the others but perfectly parallel.
    ‘Not bad at all,’ Steelhand remarked, ‘for a beginner. Make the next a little lower and then we’ll send her home with a five-bar gate. That should teach her to mind her manners.’
    It was clear what Steelhand meant, and Adam took careful aim before bringing the whip down once more across the girl’s cheeks, lower still, to lay a fresh, scarlet welt across the very plumpest part of her bottom. She screamed as the whip bit home, and for one deeply satisfying moment, she was drumming her feet on the floor in anguished reaction. Adam had long known he was a sadist, but he had never experienced such relish for a girl’s pain, nor the satisfaction of showing off for an