Shadow Lane Volume Eleven: The Venus Club A Novel of Sex, Spanking and Modern Love. Eve Howard

Amanda led him up to the attic via a narrow stairway at the back. This long, dark wood planked, skylight room was Hugo’s playroom and well equipped as such with furniture conformable to B&D, along with fetish toy chests, wardrobe armoires and a quantity of mirrors to reflect provocative tableaux. A large box sofa which had just been reupholstered in cocoa and cream brocade with a equally imposing round pouf to match dominated one side of the room while the dungeon furniture ranged about the other, with ample space around each post, bench, “horse” or bondage bed to swing an implement. The light mocha walls were surmounted by cream crown molding a foot wide. Architectural wall sconces held fat ivory candles that Amanda now lit, instructing Colby to turn the lights off. Now the bewitching room was bathed in a lambent glow as they wandered from object to object, opening doors and lifting lids to explore the leathery or hickory scented contents within.

      Shedding her light cotton cardigan, Amanda regarded her image in a mirror, wondering if she should have worn a sexier outfit on her last night with Colby before a month’s separation. She was dressed in khaki shorts, a sleeveless, cropped white shirt that exposed two inches of sleek, flat midriff, high collared urban walking boots and white socks. Behind her she glimpsed Colby seizing on a jar of pomade, cream or oil from an open armoire shelf and said, “What’s that you’ve got there?”

      “Nothing,” he said, sliding it into the pocket of his own khaki cargo shorts.

      “Is that some sort of anal lube?” she demanded.

      “Why should I tell you?” he countered evasively.

      “Humph!” she said, her hands unconsciously going to her hips as she prepared to lecture him on preparing to take liberties she had not formerly granted him. But he cut her off and surprised her by taking her by her elbow and summarily pulling her over his lap with the large pouf under him.

      “What do you think you’re doing?” she sputtered. “And why do you have a hard on?” she added, wriggling across his muscle corded thighs.

      “I just want to have a conversation with you,” he explained, winding her long ponytail around one hand while pressing his other down around her waist. Amanda found being taken by the hair so exciting that she decided against expressing any additional indignation and simply caught her breath and waited.

      “You saw I saw you talking to that old geezer today,” Colby said, stroking the bare skin between the middle of her back and the waist band of her shorts mildly, then slipping his hand up under the back of her shirt to unhook her bra.

      “I did see you glower at me,” Amanda replied, turning her face back towards him.

      “That was the exact millionaire who bought your favors last winter. Wasn’t it?”

      “Mr. Bartlett did court me at one time, but he’s married to Pamela now and she’s enough for one man.”

      “Oh, is that so?” Colby switched from holding her by the hair to capturing her wrist and folding her arm back, holding it to her impossibly small waist. “Then why was he eyeing you as if you were a red velvet cupcake? Huh?” Colby brought his palm down on the seat of her shorts smartly two or three times.

      “I can’t help it if that man likes me,” she protested.

      “Yes, you can!” he insisted, reaching under her to unsnap her buttons and loosen her shorts in order to yank them down to her knees. This operation revealed fine, thin, white cotton bikinis tightly girding her slim but jutting bottom cheeks. “I told you to stay away from that ancient metrosexual and you defied me!” Colby scolded, smacking her vigorously for one or two minutes.

      “Humph!” she grunted but was determined not to give him the satisfaction of hearing her sob or feeling a tear fall from her eye. “I will always defy you!” she returned stubbornly, though the increasing impact and velocity of his descending palm had caused her to begin kicking her legs.

      “Then I will always spank you,” Colby advised her, yanking down her panties and finishing the punishment with an enthusiast volley of several dozen resounding smacks across the swelling center of each shapely bottom cheek. Then he held her in place and massaged her hot pink buttocks, rubbing her in circles with the palm of his hand until she began to squirm across his thighs in excitement rather than pain.

      Pulling off her panties entirely, he made her sit on his lap facing him and in seconds flat had his hard, throbbing, condom sheathed, vein corded cock poised at her suddenly moisturized pink pussy slit. Remembering the lube, he used it to coat his shaft and her slim aperture before encouraging her to take him in her hands and guide him into her deepest recesses, while gently easing herself down on his cock. Halfway through this endeavor of patient concentration, Colby grabbed Amanda by the waist and pulled her abruptly the rest of the way down on his truncheon like stem, filling her so deeply as to evoke a yelp of indignation from Amanda, who then slapped Colby across the face.

      “Ow!” she cried. He grinned at her and kissed her on the mouth while pulling her forcefully against his chest and throbbing inside the entire length of her vaginal canal. In a moment she had grown accustomed to his turgid penis thrust inside her at this acute angle and had begun to tentatively bounce up and down on her personal maypole. His own muscular arms doing most of the work, Colby propelled Amanda’s lap pogo with a viselike grasp on her waist until the excitement was too strong to withstand another instant whereupon he pulled her hard against him one final time while exploding into orgasm deep inside her. She wriggled against him throughout the entire throes of his eruption, grinding her blonde fuzzed Venus Mound and by now almost painfully throbbing clit, against his groin with a genuine sense of urgency. As Colby squeezed her still warm, well-spanked bottom cheeks in his hands and lightly probed the cleft between them with his fingertips, Amanda grabbed onto him hard and reached her own shuddering climax.

      “How am I going to do without you for a month?” he murmured into her ear.

       Chapter Two

      Amanda Persuades Pamela to Bob her Hair

      When Susan Ross brought Anthony Newton his coffee on that balmy June morning, she found him leaning on the railing of his balcony looking out over the cove, the blue of the sky deep above them, the air warm and perfumed with summer.

      “Is that Amanda Sands doing yoga on our beach?” asked Newton, of the slim blonde girl far below them going through her sun salutations in a white top and white yoga pants.

      “Yes. She’s going to walk up the stairs when she’s done,” said Susan, referring to the extremely long and steep stone steps that climbed up the cliff to the back of Newton’s house. “Then we’re going swimming,” Susan added. Newton grabbed a pair of binoculars off the patio table and focused in on his best friend’s eighteen-year-old daughter.

      “Damn near perfect, isn’t she?” Newton commented. “Who’s going to be spanking her while she’s in town for the next month?”

      “I’m not sure,” said Susan, curling up in a deck chair with her own coffee to regard her attractive older lover in the strong morning light. “Why? Would you like to?”

      Newton put down the binoculars and shook his head with a smile. “Me? Want to spank such an obviously good girl? Certainly not.”

      “Do you have time to meet her today?”

      “Of course, she can join us for lunch.”

      “She’ll be on her own here, so I expect we’ll be seeing a lot of her.”

      “Lovely,” said Newton sincerely; for he had understood from Susan’s reports that Amanda was a most agreeable girl.

      “I have to admit, I’m crazy about her,” said Susan of her newest friend.

      “I’m glad you’re going swimming. There’s a present I’ve been meaning to give you down at the pool.”

      “Oh, really?”

      “And just in case you’re wondering, it’s