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

and his servant had recently returned from a long sojourn in London and this was the first time Susan had spoken to the young Englishman, with whom she shared such a long and vivacious history, since their return. She and Dennis had been studiously avoiding each other for a number of months, since a quarrel, harsh words and more had seemed to rend for good the delicate fabric of their complex ongoing relationship. Now both Susan and Dennis appeared shyly ready to put their antipathy behind them and begin afresh on a new footing of tentative politeness and respect. And yet, Susan knew him too well not to smile at the thought of how the hitherto romantically submissive young man would react to being introduced to one as obviously goddess-like as Amanda Sands.

      Dennis was unpacking the provisions he’d just purchased in the village and Susan noticed his handsome brow wrinkle when Miss Sands was mentioned.

      “So I’ll lay out a lunch for three, shall I?” he asked mildly.

      “Yes, please.” said Susan.

      “Mr. Newton mentioned she shot a video in Random Point over Christmas,” Dennis ventured.

      “Yes, she’s in the scene.”

      “Susan –”

      “Don’t worry, Dennis, I won’t mention anything about your orientation to Amanda. I’ll never do that again. I give you my word,” said Susan hastily, remembering how mortally offended he had been the last time she’d hinted to a pretty young woman about Dennis’ innate submissiveness. Because the fact was that he was no longer the tame foot slave he had once been and Susan herself was in part responsible for his transformation from submissive to switch to… dom? It was possible. He had turned her under his arm and spanked her, without preamble, to demonstrate his indignation at her outing him as a former sub to William Random’s pretty nanny.

      “Thank you!” he breathed, his brow uncreasing.

      “However, when you see this babe you’ll want to go down on your knees just like in the old days,” Susan added irreverently. “What are you making for lunch?”

      “Salads and light sandwiches. And I got pounds of these Rainier cherries,” Dennis displayed a bowl of the exquisite peach and crimson colored fruit.

      Just then Amanda knocked on the kitchen garden door.

      “Hey Babe,” Susan said, hugging Amanda.

      “Hello, my goddess,” said Amanda, returning her slightly older friend’s embrace and smiling at Dennis over Susan’s bare shoulder. The petite twenty-five year old commercial artist had swathed her small, slim, curvy form in a pair of blue denim capris and a red and white check midriff halter-top. Her hair was arranged in a thick, long blonde braid down her back and her tiny feet were shod in mahogany penny loafers and white cotton anklets.

      “This is Dennis,” said Susan. Dennis smiled at Amanda shyly and nodded his head in greeting.

      “Hi Dennis,” said Amanda, disengaging from Susan.

      “Let’s go check out the pool, Anthony said he left me a present down there,” said Susan, relieving Amanda of her rucksack and pulling her after her by the hand.

      “Who’s Dennis?” Amanda asked, happily allowing herself to be lead through the halls of the luxuriously decorated and richly furnished house belonging to Susan’s wealthy lover.

      “He’s Anthony’s personal assistant. He drives, valets, shops, even prepares some meals. He’s terrifically useful.”

      “Handsome too,” Amanda commented.

      “Yes.”

      “But I have a boyfriend now so I shouldn’t even be looking,” Amanda chided herself.

      “Oh, so you intend to be well behaved this summer in Random Point?”

      They exited the house from the rear and took a garden walkway to the tennis courts and indoor pool. Susan noticed upon entering that the flat roof had been replaced with a clear dome of a glasslike material and the moment she entered the hitherto unremarkable pool building she saw that it had been transformed into a tropical hothouse in her absence. The pool still ran down the middle of the hall but it now bisected a lush garden.

      “This place has been completely transformed,” breathed Susan, delighted with her new private paradise.

      “It smells delirious,” Amanda commented, inhaling the heavy scents of blossoms permeating the warm, moist air within the long, sun drenched room.

      “It seems to have everything,” said Susan, noting with approval a large, deep, tiled Jacuzzi off to one side, a mist filled steam room opposite it and a dry sauna beside that. There were also fountains surrounding cupids and goddesses, cabanas for changing clothes, a wall of rolled towels and a wet bar. “We’ll make this our summer party headquarters. Come over whenever you can,” Susan invited Amanda.

      A few minutes later, when introduced to Anthony Newton in the dining room, Amanda received a second invitation to make the house her own from her host. Seated at the head of the table, with Susan on his right and Amanda on his left, the affable Newton began handing around dishes of salad and the dainty plates of sandwich quarters that had been lovingly prepared by Dennis.

      “I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get around to meeting you in person,” said Newton, “but I’ve been following your progress with interest this past year.”

      “How much do you know?” Amanda asked, in slight alarm.

      “Oh, he knows everything,” said Susan, with unconcern, “but don’t worry, he’s cool.”

      “I meant I’d seen your clips,” Newton said to reassure her, though he did in fact know about all of the scandalous things she had done with Ambrose Bartlett the previous winter.

      “Not only that, but financed them too,” said Amanda with a grin. “Thank you for that.”

      “Susan said you’ve already paid her back for the model fees. I’m impressed by that.”

      Amanda said, “I was lucky that Hugo told his customers to go watch my clips. That started me off. Now he says they’ll buy whatever I put up. If I ever have time to shoot again.”

      “Well, you can shoot here next time if you like,” Newton offered.

      “Thank you, you’re so kind!” Amanda cried, certain that nothing would be required of her in payment this time.

      “I’ve always patronized the art of spanking,” he replied. “It’s my hobby.”

      “I would like Susan to be the star of my next round of clips,” said Amanda.

      “Do you think I should?” Susan asked her lover. Her one previous experience making a fetish video had produced a result so awkward that Anthony had felt compelled to buy the master video and lock it away to save his darling any future embarrassment. So far she hadn’t ventured in front of a camera again, but had faith that if anyone could create a charming vehicle for her, it was Amanda.

      “I do,” said Newton. “I would love a perfect video of you.”

      “But who would you want to sub to?” Amanda asked, selecting a piece of honeydew to sink her white teeth into.

      “I don’t know. Pick someone out for me. I trust your judgment,” said Susan.

      “Maybe we can do it when I come back in August,” said Amanda.

      “Okay, I’ll try to get under the skin of one of the locals between now and then so they’ll be some spark when we shoot,” promised Susan. Meanwhile Anthony and Amanda were smiling at each other.

      “May I ask how you met my father and how you came to be such good friends?” Amanda asked.

      “We met at an estate sale about sixteen years ago. I was just hitting on Broadway and had money to buy things with. I liked the taste he showed at the auction and invited him to lunch. After which he showed me his shop. Naturally, what caught my attention