5.
Ariadne tried to remain calm. Tried to slow her breathing as she looked up at her husband to see if he was joking.
A cold ripple of fear trickled down her body and into her belly as she met his eyes and saw he wasn't flinching. His gaze was just as cool and hard as it was at dinner.
"Mr. Brandon?" she asked feeling a sense of panic grow inside her blood.
Arthur's face looked like it was carved from stone as his finger curled around her dark locks.
"Take your night gown off." he said in a voice that dripped with danger.
She felt her pulse spark at these words. The very idea! She was only ever naked when she bathed and her modesty wouldn't even permit her to look in the mirror at herself. Her flesh, breasts and other womanly parts were something to be hidden and to be ashamed of. The disgrace of standing int he middle of Arthur's room, naked was too much.
"No." she said sharply and felt her feet itch to move away from him. Her bare bottom was still exposed to the cool air and warm fire. Arthur still had his large hand resting on her check as though it were a thing that belonged to him alone.
"Mrs. Brandon," he sighed and she felt a magical stirring happening between her legs. "do not make me repeat myself again. I don't like to tell you to do things twice. Take your night gown... off."
He said that last part with such coldness, she quivered from just the sound of his voice.
Her hands felt over the soft cotton night gown and it's lace edgings. She had been naked with him before, their wedding night for example, but she had always been able to cover herself with blankets while he insisted on his needs.
She felt her modesty take a tight hold of her belly as she pulled the gown up, and over her head. Her long hair covering her breasts neatly as she refused to look down at herself.
She sensed her husband was breathing hard as she placed the night gown on the floor as neatly as she could; her body now vulnerable and open for all to see.
She was defenseless.
To make things worse, Arthur gently pushed her hair over her shoulders so that it fully exposed her breasts. His hand even cupping and tweaking the nipple so hard she jumped a little.
"Stand still. Stand at attention." he ordered. "Keep out back strait, your head and shoulders high. You were so proud before, Mrs. Brandon, what happened to that willful girl at my dinner table?"
"She... she was wearing clothing." Ariadne stammered and tried to cover her breasts with her arm. A reflex she couldn't help.
"Never do that again." he ordered and pushed her arms back to her side. "Stand just like this. This is how I want you."
"Arthur, this..." she tried to plead as it felt like a strange and wonderful itch was alive and hungry inside her. Her husband's hands were everywhere. Moving over her legs, her belly, touching her breasts and finally.
"Arthur!" she cried as his fingers dipped in between her legs. That strange place she had been forbidden by her mother and nurse maid to touch except when cleaning. A place that Arthur was always starved for.
"Hold still." he growled as she tried to move away. One hand was wrapped around her hair, keeping her in place, the other, tickling her delicate, heated mystery.
She didn't exactly protest when she felt his fingers rub and stroke her. Instead, her treasonous body seemed to like what he was doing. The rocking feel of his fingers and thumb rubbing, rubbing, rubbing as her hair was held fast so she couldn't escape.
"Why, Mrs. Brandon. You should be ashamed." he teased as he whispered in her ear and her skin burned with embarrassment.
"You're the one who should be ashamed, you... OH!" something grabbed hold of her. With an artful stroke, he had sent that hot secret place between her legs into a riot of sensitive fireworks.
She gasped like a drowning woman as he ordered her to stand up strait. His fingers never stopping as he stroked her harder and without mercy.
Her legs felt ready to crumble from under her as she instinctively pressed her hands over his large palm. Inviting and begging him to go deeper inside her. Her body, a ravenous beast for him.
"That's enough." he said as he let her go and her inner walls, her blood, her flesh and heart screamed for more. "I just wanted you ready for me."
She was panting as she tried to compose herself.
"I'll... I'll just go to my room then." she whispered weakly as her arms went to her breast and she tried to remember where she put her night gown.
"Stand still, Mrs. Brandon." he ordered. "We're hardly done."
She looked back at him in surprise. Wasn't her punishment over? He had spanked her. Embarrassed her by making her be totally nude, and touched her. All while not in bed and hidden by blankets. Surely he wasn't so cruel as to-
"Stand strait. Stick you're chest out." he ordered as he brushed her hair back so he could see and touch her breasts again.
She could hardly believe this was happening. What else could he possibly do?
She felt the sting of his hand hit her bottom, one two... three times. The sharp pain made her almost jump on her tip toe as his large hand immediately rubbed over the flesh he had just assaulted.
His free hand was grasping her hair once more as; one, two, three, four, five slaps to the other cheek.
"I said stick your chest out. You're the proud one today. Be proud now!" he said angrily as his hand went to work on rubbing away the stings from her spanking.
"It hurts!" she whimpered.
"Good." he said softly. His voice sympathetic and kind. "I need this to hurt."
"Arthur." she cried as she sensed he was going to spank her again and she tried to pull away. Her husband's fist was full of her hair and her escape was quickly halted.
"Keep your arms at your side." he ordered when she tried to free her locks from his hand. "Do it, or I'll have to start over."
She wanted to cry when he spanked her again and again. Each slap making her flesh sting and become hot to the touch.
"Now, the belt." he said in a labored voice. Almost like he was in pain.
She nodded as she felt him run the leather strap over her injured and hot bottom. Her flesh raw and sensitive to the feel of the course material.
"Keep your hands to your side." he ordered and touched her between the legs with the rough leather.
She let out a grateful moan. When as she become so sensitive there? The leather was horrible. Dry and full of imperfections. A true thing of torment to the touch. So why did it feel so good when Arthur slowly and deliberately ran it over her forbidden places?
She opened her legs wider, and he obligingly touched her deeper with the leather strap. His hands holding back her hair the whole time as his weapon of choice threatened her most delicate parts.
"You look so beautiful." he whispered in her ear.
She was in a daze of pain from the spanking and pleasure from the way he was touching her, she didn't understand.
She leaned back slightly and he was behind her. His leather strap molesting her as he finally released her hair and touched her breasts.
"Your bottom is exactly how I want it to be. It's red and looks almost ripe." he said in her ear as she wanted him to suddenly penetrate her with that leather strap.
"But we have to make it a little redder." he said and pulled her head back once more by her hair.
She cried out softly in protest to the leather strap going away. She wanted it back. Her sweet spot begging for his attention, any attention.
"Hold still." he said as her hands cupped herself between the legs and she felt a wash of comfort.
He was breathing hard as she knew what would happen next.
"Hold, still and count with me." he ordered.
She kept her eyes closed. Her body in a state of strange bliss as she rubbed her folds and felt how wet and smooth they were.
It was like floating in the ocean before a rouge wave hit.
When Arthur hit her with the leather strap, she screamed.