The Storyteller Read Online Free PDF Page A

the punishment was for real. Darren seemed genuinely angry, as well as eager to play the traditional stern daddy figure in their escapades.
    “Did you get an A on your test, and don’t you lie?”
    She dreaded these words but relished them too, knowing what was to come.
    If the answer was yes, Darren was no longer the strict father role, but her lover as usual. Sometimes they spanked with the hand to celebrate, but other times went right to bed to engage themselves. For a man in his forties and she was never sure of his specific age, Darren had amazing stamina.
    When she failed to excel on a test, however, there was trouble.
    “Get those clothes off!” Darren commanded. It was always the same. The furious voice. The glower. The lecture. He seemed genuinely angry.
    At that point she would have to strip everything in front of him, a garment at a time, until she stood naked before his inspecting eyes.
    “Get in the corner and wait for it,” he would then command, and obediently she would head for the familiar section of the living room in either his apartment or hers, where she was expected to go. In their romantic session, corner time usually took place after the spanking, as a prelude to the bed, but when being disciplined, the corner came first.
    The waiting was the worst part.
    Blair anticipated what she knew she would feel on her unprotected bottom, yet in spite of the pain, the lust always rose at a dynamic pace. She never admitted it, but once in a great while she had let herself go, slacking to get a lesser grade and awaiting the role play that followed.
    The wait always seemed like an eternity, though it was only a matter of minutes at best. Darren, too, was eager to go into action.
    “Now, you’re gonna get it!”
    If she listened carefully, she could hear the click of the belt buckle being undone.
    “Turn around and get in the position!”
    With her head down, like a real school girl in trouble, she would leave the corner and go to the sofa, where she would bend with her hands on the cushions. Her ass was ready for what was about to come.
    “Bad girl,” Darren would always snarl. “You hold this position and don’t you move or we’ll start over! You take this like the naughty thing you are!”
    Then came the licks with the belt. She heard the whap, but the sound was nothing compared to the searing pain as the leather struck first one cheek then the other. Usually by the eighth blow, she was blubbering, but this failed to keep her tormentor from doing what he felt needed to be done.
    Sometimes instinctively she would move her hands to her butt and feel the heat beneath her flesh. This was as she well knew an unwise thing, and Darren did start over as proclaimed.
    There were, however, times when she moved her hands deliberately to prolong the misery she had blended with thrills.
    By the time Darren finished, her rear-end was ablaze with welts, but never bloodied. Darren knew what he was doing and realized when it was time to hold back or stop.
    “Now back in the corner you go,” Darren would order.
    From there the fantasy ended, and it was back to being Blair with Darren, rather than daddy and stepdaughter.
    They never did anal, but after the belt Blair would be ordered to lie face down on the bed, where Darren would go down on top of her and fuck her in the vital spot. The pain continued with him on her back, moving against her punished ass, while inside the thrusts brought her to astronomical heights.
    Sometimes, she wondered if neighbors overheard. She lived in a corner apartment, and that eliminated a lot of the worries, but when she was next door at Darren’s, she imagined someone listening in and calling the police, for fear a murder was taking place. No one ever complained, and this made her wonder if someone was in fact listening nearby, while getting off on the session as well.
    When Blair went home for Christmas break, she could not bring Darren and under no circumstances could tell her family