“It warped my character. I started taking the scene too seriously and wound up alienating someone I really cared for.”
“That would be the lady with the good taste in shoes?” Garda asked, extending her well-shod foot.
“Had you returned just a few years ago, you would have found me insufferable.”
“I’m sure that even at your worst you were never as grisly as some of the creatures who’ve lured me into their dungeons. I’ve been suspended, hogtied, hot waxed, prodded, pinched, clamped, cinched, everything but wrung out and hung up to dry.”
“No corporal punishment?”
“Oh, I’ve been able to obtain a few dreamy floggings from ripped leather men over the years, but I was never lucky enough to meet a straight one with the proper looks and brains to interest me.”
“That’s insane, Garda. California is probably the spanking capital of the world. I’ll have you set up with a spanking boyfriend within weeks of your returning to L.A.”
“You seem incredibly sure of your powers,” Garda smiled.
“Trust me.”
“It seems like I’ve been sublimating this need since the last time I saw you,” she mused.
“I can’t think why. You were always such a self starter.”
“I’ve been remiss,” Garda admitted.
“And should be punished.”
“Hugo, this wine is lovely, but do you know what I’d really adore?”
“Tell me.”
“One of those luscious Irish coffees you used to make us before we went skating at night.”
“Come with me and I’ll show you how it’s done,” Hugo said, leading her by the hand through the house to his rustic kitchen, with its wonderful hearth.
Garda watched Hugo grind the coffee beans, sitting on the wooden table and swinging her long, slim legs. “You always took such good care of me,” she said fondly. “Remember that day we pretended that I was a baby and I crawled around the floor and talked baby talk all afternoon and you spanked me I don’t know how many times?”
“That was fun,” he agreed, measuring out a jigger of Bushmills.
“You used to literally spend hours spanking me. Remember?”
“Can you blame me?”
“And you’re saying there are really others like you?”
“Can you honestly doubt it? You saw the magazine. Why don’t you answer some ads while I begin researching my California resources? I promise you’ll be playing regularly before you know it,” he guaranteed her, pouring cream into a bowl and placing that under a blender.
“The truth is, I’ve become a boring corporate lawyer,” Garda sighed.
“I still can’t understand how you could have allowed Randy Price get the better of you!” Hugo exclaimed, remembering her lurid confession with annoyance. “He’s not even your type.”
“Hugo, you don’t understand. Men just don’t come on to me that often. I give off a spinster or dyke vibe. Or maybe it’s that I don’t flirt. Anyway, I seem to be seldom pursued these days. So I was flattered into submission.”
“Oh, that’s nonsense! What else did you do with him?” Hugo snapped, while whipping the cream.
Garda shrugged, “I just gave him head, let him finger bang me, trivial stuff.”
“I can’t believe you went down on your knees to Randy Price!”
Garda bit her knuckle.
“You’re hopeless,” Hugo declared, pouring coffee into a mug, adding the jigger of Bushmills and the whipping cream. Garda took the cup and a spoon to stir it. “Bring that with you and follow me,” Hugo said, grabbing the whiskey bottle and a glass along with her smoking materials and leading her up three pairs of stairs to his attic playroom.
“Wow,” Garda said, peering out of the porthole window and catching a glimpse of the half moon through the swaying boughs. Then she noticed the skylights, the sophisticated furnishings, all suitable for playing on and the looking glasses to reflect it all.
“All the dungeons in Random Point are traditionally located in the attics,” he informed her.
“What are you going to do with me?” she asked, drinking her coffee fast.
“You mean to you, for making me angrier than I have ever been with you before! And after being back in my life just one afternoon!”
“But, you always said you’re not the jealous type,” she smiled.
“I’m not jealous, I’m just irritated as hell that you squandered the divine gift of your submission on Randy Price. After I warned you, Garda. That’s what makes it so insulting.”
“See, you shouldn’t have warned me like that. You’ve heard of the Bluebeard Syndrome?”
Hugo ignored her flippancy and lifted the lid of a large toy chest to select implements. She came over to look in.
“Finish your drink and your smoke while I find the proper restraints,” he advised her.
“Restraints? What for? I’ll always stay in position for you, Hugo.”
“Maybe I think you’ll look good in restraints. Some black leather wristlets, linked by a couple of boat hooks, should be perfect for your wrists behind your back. And then, I can easily have you reach back and spread your bottom for my crop.”
Garda pouted while she watched him gather toys. She smoked a joint while touring the room. Inevitably she kept coming back to the expensively upholstered table with the carved and varnished wooden legs in the middle of the room. Hugo demonstrated, at the touch of a button, that the elegant bondage bed could be tilted. Rather than sticky leather, it was covered in a smoky blue velveteen fabric, suitable for a lady to repose upon. Soft blue suede restraints were tucked into pockets at each corner and there were recessed o-rings around the perimeter at all the necessary points to make bondage possible in a variety of classic positions.
Hugo let her finish all her stimulants then summarily took her by the ear across to a long, high backed wooden bench, carved in the same style as the table, and with a padded seat covered in the same smoky blue plush fabric and turned her over his knee. “First, a good, hard spanking, to make you very sorry!” he promised, bringing his palm down on her trim backside, so glamorous through her sheer black on beige lace nylon briefs.
Hugo held her by her ear lobe while spanking her vigorously for ten or fifteen minutes. This worked the way it always had done. She squirmed, panted, whimpered and ground against his lap, lubricating copiously.
He lowered her panties and saw with satisfaction how pink she had already become. The texture of her skin was still smooth and fine.
“If
