no, not at all. I was going to say, such a good writer. Can I make a confession?’ He was red in the face. ‘I would never have thought that just reading the written word could give me a hard-on. But it has.’ This time she blushed redder than him.
‘Oh good lord above, your auntie has given you a hard-on?’
‘It wouldn’t be the first time, Pen. If only you knew’, he thought to himself, as he hastily returned his attention to the screen.
He read it through to the end. The last page was particularly striking. The story ended on a note of redemption.
The Marquise bent forward and cupped the girl’s pert little breasts in her hands. As she did so, the stable lad saw again the red stripes across the milky white of her ladyship’s buttocks. He remembered her cries for mercy as he brought the crop down on her naked flesh. It was clear that she had truly learned her lesson. Now, in place of the evil dominatrix, there was only this compliant, docile servant.
He ran a gentle hand across her battered flesh. She turned towards him, a smile upon her face.
‘‘Thank you, Master.’
Scott looked up. His cheeks were red and there were beads of sweat on his brow. She avoided looking at his crotch.
‘So, what do you think?’
‘Penny, have you ever done any of this stuff?’ He sounded hoarse.
‘Nope. Last time I touched a riding crop I was fourteen. And, before you say anything, it was a horse who received the odd whack.’
‘But you write about it so vividly.’ There was admiration in his voice. ‘How do you do that?’
‘Scottie, Émile Zola wrote about coal mining, child birth and prostitution. It’s a pretty safe bet he never tried any of them. It’s called imagination. Plus a fair bit of research in the nether regions of the internet.’
‘Well, you had me convinced. I have to admit, I could see you there.’
She was intrigued. ‘In which role? Hopefully not the stable boy. But did you see me as the maid, or as the Marquise?’ She waited for his answer with considerable interest. She was to be disappointed.
‘I couldn’t possibly say.’
‘You little tease, Scott. So, anyway, any comments, changes, suggestions?’
‘I thought it was very well written. Only one line struck me as a little bit corny. Right at the end, do you really have to describe her butt as milky white? It’s a bit of a cliché, isn’t it?’
‘You’re absolutely right. Thanks a lot. I’ll take milky out. I could use the word virginal, but there’s precious little that’s virginal about the Marquise.’
‘How about referring to the texture of the skin, say pure or flawless?’
‘Flawless, that’s perfect. Thanks Scottie. I’ll print it out. Just promise me one thing. Don’t tell Jamie you’ve read it. I couldn’t stand that.’
‘My lips are sealed. And that’s more than you can say about the Marquise.’
Just for a moment, Penny toyed with the idea of offering to help him with his state of arousal. Then she gave herself a good talking-to: He’s years younger than me. What am I? A cradle-snatcher?’
She stood up. ‘I’m calling it a day. Thanks, Scottie, for your help.’ As she stepped past him, she bent down and kissed him on the cheek.
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