Shadow Lane Volume 8: The Spanking Libertines A Novel of Spanking, Sex and Romance. Eve Howard

before her and deftly lacing up the leather dream boots. Expecting him to nearly swoon with pleasure at this divine duty, Diana was puzzled when he signaled the completion of the job not by covering her size five feet with the usual kisses and sighs, but by giving one shapely calf a squeeze and a smack through the skintight pant and boot leg that clad it.

      “Looking like that, it’s good you’ll have me there to protect you,” Carl-Adam commented.

      “But not serve me, Carl-Adam? Even while I’m dressed like this?”

      “As far you’re concerned that part of me no longer exists.” He got up.

      “You sound so firm, Carl-Adam.”

      “You’re smiling, but some day you won’t.”

      “This masquerade is very amusing, Carl-Adam, but how long can you keep it up?” He was left to brood on this impertinent question as Diana e-mailed Lupe to meet her in the lobby immediately.

      They were standing in the lobby deciding whether to take Diana’s car or Carl-Adam’s when Clarence entered the dorm, laden with books. He stared at Diana in her cat suit and Lupe in her long sleeved, sweetheart cut black leather dress.

      “What’s going on?” he demanded.

      “We’re going to the Vault,” Lupe revealed casually, delighted that he had chanced by.

      “Don’t you think that Lupe’s too young for that hellacious den?” asked Clarence, reluctantly admiring Lupe’s beautiful little shape.

      “Nonsense, Clarence,” said Diana. “Don’t be stuffy. Go put your books away and come along with us.”

      “I think I’d better,” he agreed, marching off at once.

      “Let’s leave him here,” said Lupe mischievously. “Make him chase us in his car!” She jumped up and down excitedly in spite of her four inch heeled pumps.

      “No. It’s going to take both of us to make sure you two don’t get into trouble,” Carl-Adam decided maturely, causing Lupe to stare at him in fascination.

      “Carl-Adam seems somehow different today,” Lupe remarked to Diana as their pet Viking went to warm up the jeep.

      When Lupe begged Carl-Adam to let her drive he handed her the keys without hesitation. Sitting in the back seat with Diana for ninety minutes seemed much more enjoyable than driving, especially if she was naughty enough to give him an excuse to pull her across his lap again.

      Clarence wasn’t pleased but didn’t argue. Lupe set off down the lush Taconic Parkway hell for leather. Vigorous protests from both Clarence and Carl-Adam slowed her to the speed limit, though not uncomplainingly, for the road was quite open at that hour. Clarence made a mental note never to let her behind a wheel again while Carl-Adam thought hard about a way to get Diana into his arms.

      “Fucking move!” Lupe cried, thumping her horn at a sluggish motorist in front of them as she wove in and out of lanes.

      “Really, Lupe, I’m sure you know better words,” Clarence scolded, earning a sidelong glance of indeterminate meaning.

      “Clarence, do you realize you’re a walking, talking anachronism? I mean, will you fucking look at yourself?”

      In the ten seconds of silence that followed even Carl-Adam momentarily forgot his own objective and waited agog for Clarence’s reply. That his classmate was boiling was obvious. It was quite possible, thought Diana exchanging a look with Carl-Adam, that the brief affair of Lupe and Clarence had just come to an end.

      Finally Clarence tuned in the radio to an underground station and in moments the desolate sounds of the Damned filled the awkward silence.

      Shame and guilt at having spoken so brusquely to the one that she loved caused a lump to constrict Lupe’s throat. She brushed away the sudden tears that over spilled her eyes while Clarence affected indifference. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, in deep misery. He handed her a clean handkerchief then ignored her for the rest of the ride, deciding he might never talk to her again.

      Yet Clarence couldn’t help commenting acidly on the environs of the Vault when they debarked in the meatpacking district of lower Manhattan at around midnight.

      “I’m not thrilled with this neighborhood,” he muttered to Carl-22 Adam.

      “You should have brought your sword,” Lupe commented, not quite chastened enough to wholly curb her tongue.

      Clarence fought the impulse to slap Lupe hard as they proceeded down the stone steps into the premiere B&D club of New York. They paid their admission to a burly doorman in a Harley Davidson vest, $25 each for the boys and $5 each for the girls, though the girls’ fees were waived.

      Upon entering the play rooms Carl-Adam’s eyes widened and Clarence muttered, “What the hell goes on here?” for neither young man had been warned about what to expect from Diana, who alone of the group had been there before.

      Carl-Adam observed with fascination as a handful of mistresses strutted around the rooms in command of a small army of obsequious males, on their knees to a man, with their cocks in their hands. ‘There but for the counsel of Lupe,’ thought Carl-Adam, ‘might have gone I.’ Not that he would have dreamt of getting down on his knees on that floor! But when he turned to share this revelation with Diana, he found her already securely mounted on the back of the club’s chivalrous mascot, Danny the Wonder Pony. She cheerfully waved at Carl-Adam and disappeared around a corner on the veteran centaur’s back.

      “This is no place for Lupe,” Clarence scowled.

      “She tried to make us leave without you, so you’d have to chase us in your car,” Carl-Adam blithely informed on the girl who had done him the biggest favor of his life. He felt it important that Clarence see the big picture with Lupe and not judge her feelings for him solely on the basis of the one unkind remark she had made in the car. Since Lupe had helped him with Diana, he felt he had to help her with Clarence.

      “Oh, she did, did she?”

      “Do you really think you ought to let her wander around by herself in here?” Carl-Adam asked, noticing that Lupe had slipped out of sight. Clarence sighed and went looking for her, his mouth set in a grim line. He hadn’t forgotten her incivility, but somehow the steamy, anything goes atmosphere of the Vault was beginning to work like a tonic on his overwrought nerves. If there was any place that one could grab a naughty girl and thrust her across one’s knee without raising the slightest demur, although fifty persons looked on, it was here.

      And he did find Lupe, allowing a slave to worshipfully kiss the seat of her leather skirt as she leaned forward with her hands on her knees and thrust her slim bottom into his face. She looked exactly as though she were posing for her father’s unspeakable magazine, just as she had teased him she might.

      “Intolerable!” Clarence said to himself, striding across the room to his sweetheart and straightening her up.

      “I won’t allow you to make this kind of spectacle of yourself,” he informed her, taking her by the wrist and leading her away from the disappointed slave. “Didn’t you notice that that man was masturbating?”

      Lupe contrived to look meekly chastened as he found a wooden bench against a wall for them to sit on. Her submissiveness aroused him acutely, though he still felt that she should be punished for insulting him so gravely two hours before.

      “I wish you would forgive me,” Lupe murmured, reading his mind. “I’m sorry I was rude. You can spank me if it will help.”

      Clarence’s organ throbbed at this winsome invitation. “If I do it won’t be playfully,” he warned her. Lupe lowered her eyes so compliantly that he almost went to pieces and took her in his arms. Instead he pulled her easily across his lap and began to spank her rather hard.

      Lupe could feel Clarence’s pique in every resounding smack that descended on the seat of her tight leather skirt, and there were scores. As Clarence was young, strong and