who, enjoying a good deal of leisure and financial ease, devoted much of his time to just playing.
“So you’re off to college, are you?” Hugo looked Susan up and down critically, then chose a bottle. “We’ll take this upstairs and drink to your future academic successes.”
“I’d rather drink to my future erotic excesses,” Susan replied.
“I’ll look forward to reading your memoirs,” Hugo commented, though without much interest, as if Susan’s libido bored him.
“Why don’t you help inspire them?” the petite blonde teased.
“Susan, behave yourself!”
“Why should I?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll spank you,” he threatened.
“What did I do wrong?” Susan demanded. “I even brought you Laura.”
“It’s true. She dragged me here against my will,” Laura said.
“Susan, you’re too young to be manipulating people!” Hugo put the bottle down and seized Susan by her slender wrist.
“What are you doing? Let go!”
“Come here, you fresh brat. This is what you need!” Hugo yanked Susan over to a high backed, armless, oak chair, promptly sat down on it and effortlessly pulled the small girl over his knee. Laura stared spellbound, as Hugo locked her sister’s wrist against the small of her back and began to spank Susan at once. It was not a long spanking, nor did Hugo even lift Susan’s nubby tweed skirt. But it was a hard spanking; and in spite of the skirt, it had Susan kicking her shapely legs and shouting to be released in a very few minutes.
She was deliberately wearing penny loafers and white anklets. Her bare legs were shaved so silky-smooth that they gleamed even in the low light and their perfection was not lost on the practiced player. The various charms of her body and mind numbered in the dozens and he noticed new facets of her immensely attractive person and personality every time they met.
After giving the precocious Susan about 20 hard smacks, Hugo stopped, but held her firmly in place. His punishing hand rested where it had landed, on the swell of her girlish behind.
“Now, Miss Susan Ross, are you going to behave like a nice girl for a change, instead of a managing little baggage?” Hugo demanded, in a tone that made Laura’s stomach flutter.
“I could, but I’d rather not!” Susan maintained, although her bottom was already smarting and radiating heat.
“Oh really? We’ll see about that!” Hugo pushed her skirt up to her waist. She was wearing white eyelet panties. The hemming on her folded back half slip was tinged with pink. So was the round, dimpled bottom, which Hugo briskly bared. Laura watched without a word, melting.
Now Hugo’s hand felt more severe. It now came down harder and faster. Until then Susan had not found the spanking unduly harsh. The damp crotch of her lowered briefs was exquisitely pungent with her essence. But when Hugo spanked her harder still, Susan’s excitement was supplanted by very real discomfort. This was Susan’s first serious spanking and she was finding it shockingly painful! Her sobs and cries rang out in rhythmic counterpoint to the sharp slaps impacting against her firm flesh.
Laura’s heart was thumping when Hugo finally pushed her sister off his lap and onto the floor, where she knelt whimpering for some time, her hands clasped to her glowing bottom and her face turned away.
Hugo looked at Laura with the faintest of smiles, as much as to say, “Your turn is coming.” His eyes still fixed on Laura; he brought Susan to her feet and gathered her into his arms, carefully winding one hand in her long, rippling, wheaten-gold hair.
“Are you going to behave now?” he demanded, gently pulling her head back. When Susan stubbornly shook her head no, Hugo laughed, letting go of her hair.
“Yes, you will,” he told her. Then he bent Susan over a trestle table, pushed her skirt up to her waist, and deliberately took her from behind, holding Laura’s gaze all the while.
William did not speak to the girls about being home late until they were tensely playing Scrabble in front of the fire after dinner, which had been a simple affair of salad, hummus, basmati rice and fresh fruit. William’s vegetarian tastes were easily satisfied. The girls had shared a bottle of wine.
Laura’s husband was thirty-five, with dark hair, a pleasant face, iron sculpted musculature and a wardrobe of tailored suits that displayed his superb physique to advantage. Though he possessed little finesse and even less patience, his serious demeanor, the handsome “V” shape of his torso and other equally attractive natural endowments had made him a popular favorite with any number of highly sexed women over the years. But Laura was the only one he had ever urgently longed to possess.
William had been involved with Laura exclusively since their meeting and subsequent marriage several months before. She was his first official “submissive and the only woman who interested him seriously now.
He had first played with Laura in the room where they now sat, when she’d finally come to him, after months of correspondence, which had begun when she’d answered his ad in a periodical called The New Rod Quarterly, a spanking fiction and contact magazine, published by Hugo Sands.
The magazine was available by subscription, at Marguerite Alexander’s bookshop and other venues like it all over the Eastern seaboard. It was a nice little sideline for Hugo, who had searched for a New England spanking scene, found none hip enough to suit his personality and had therefore decided to create one himself. It was the net of this network of writers, artists, photographers, correspondents and personal advertisers that now and then caught shimmering prizes like Susan Ross and Laura Ross Random. Laura was a gifted illustrator who had become a constant contributor to Hugo’s journal. Her erotic drawings appeared with the bi-line: Sub Rosa. Susan wrote spanking stories and drew comic strips for the magazine. Both young women had been recruited for the editorial staff by Marguerite Alexander, Laura’s old roommate from Bennington, and a protégé of Hugo Sands going back five years.
As William sat watching the sisters, deep in their thoughts, picturesquely preppie in the firelight, he wondered if he really had any right to play a little scene with Susan. Ever the pragmatist, he told himself, “After all, the summer’s over. What can I lose? If she resents what I propose, it’ll show in her eyes and I’ll drop the whole thing.”
Susan, a well provided for orphan, had been living with the newlyweds since graduating from a New Hampshire prep school the previous spring. On the following day she was to begin her freshman year at the Boston Art Institute. William had long been aware that the reason Susan had been so willing to move into his house for the summer had to do with the interest in discipline which she shared with her sister, but so far he had not tested her commitment to the scene with a physical challenge.
“What were you girls doing out after dark? You know that worries me.” William began, in a tone sharp enough to electrify the atmosphere.
“We stopped at Hugo’s,” Laura said, without looking up.
“Oh?”
“Susan insisted,” Laura explained.
“I wanted to say good-bye before tomorrow,” Susan volunteered. William waited. “I made Laura come with me.”
“Why?”
