Tuesday, March 25, 2014

SSB-Excerpt from Ken Charles's "Psyche & Metaphysic"

 Good evening, Saturday Spankings Bloghoppers. In Ken Charles's "Psyche & Metaphysic" found in the Two Sides of a Bent Mind 10 story collection by Ken Charles and Charlie Kenmore coming soon, a young lady is gravely wronged by a school mate Priscilla Andrews who steals away her beloved. She takes exquisite revenge, but first.... 
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Thwack!
“Twenty-two. Thank you, Sir. May I have the next?”
I was sentenced to two dozen strokes with a cane. Have you ever been caned, Cousin? It was horrid. Do you remember the time when Auntie caught us helping ourselves to Mrs. Johnson’s preserves? I thought Auntie’s lesson in manners with her hairbrush would never end. But the cane is much worse!
First, I had to bend over the Deacon’s desk, and grip the far side. Mrs. Tomkins came over and turned up my dress and petticoats. I was scared and embarrassed. Someone was lecturing me about my outrageous behavior, but I really did not hear much of it. At some point, Mrs. Tomkins lowered my knickers. Matters became much clearer a moment later.
Thwack!
A line of fire exploded across the middle of my bare bum! I gasped. Surely that stroke was more than sufficient punishment.
“Since you failed to thank me and count the stroke, we will begin again!”
“Count the ...?”
Thwack!
I remembered! I was to receive twenty-four strokes, which I was required to count. Further, since this woeful procedure was for my edification, I was required to express my gratitude for each stroke.
“Two! Thank you, Sir!” May you burn forever in the hottest depths of Hades!
“That was only one, Miss Ginn. Perhaps you forgot that I had to start over.”
“No, Sir. One, Sir.”
Thwack!
A third line of lava erupted just below the other two. A fourth, fifth and then a sixth searing stroke soon followed. Six flaming furrows blazed across my backside. I wept softly, but kept track of each cut. A seventh stroke cut diagonally across its six parallel predecessors, “barring the gate”. I screamed and jumped up. My hands flew to my poor bottom.
“Get back into position! No one gave you permission to rise or to rub your bottom.”
“P-Please, S-Sir. Let me have a moment.”
I have never known such exquisite pain, and pray never to know it again. There was no way that I could take another seventeen cuts. I was certain that I would swoon.
“Back into position! Andrews, go around the desk and hold her hands.”
Strangely, aside from a commutation of my sentence, that was the nicest thing the Deacon (may he choke on a chicken bone) could have said. The pain was in no manner diminished, yet suddenly it was no longer foremost in my mind. Instead, all of my attention focused on the smirking visage of the one who would soon pay for these atrocities. I wiped the tears from my eyes. I wanted to watch Andrews without any distortion. As I leaned back over the desk, I knew that I would get through this ordeal, without shedding another shameful tear.
The doleful depuration continued, as the Deacon was determined to deracinate my depravities. The Deacon changed sides to deliver strokes eight through twelve from the other side. It did not really matter, a thousand bee stings is a thousand bee stings. I counted dutifully and obsequiously. At thirteen, the Deacon changed sides again.
Thwack!
“Thirteen, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
Thwack!
“Fourteen, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
It is extraordinary how time distends itself. Although I was in the Deacon’s study for no more than fifteen minutes, I had hours to plan an appropriate reward for the treacherous Miss Andrews. Most certainly there would be pain, and copious amounts of it in fair recompense for my extraordinary discomfort and discommodity. But there would have to be something more. Indeed, there would have to be something to show dear Robert that I, alone, was worthy of his affections.
Thwack!
“Twenty-three, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
Thwack!
“Twenty-four, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
I looked up at Priscilla, and caught her eye. I smiled. Priscilla shuddered, and released my hands. Curiously, she was no longer smirking.

KC Copyright‭ ‬2005‭;‬ Moral rights to be identified as the author of‭ “‬Psyche & Metaphysic" ‬asserted worldwide‭ (‬including in Great Britain in accordance with Sections‭ ‬77‭ ‬and‭ ‬78‭ ‬of the Copyright,‭ ‬Designs and Patent Act of‭ ‬1988‭)
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Check out the great new review by Rollin Hand for The Mercies of Cinderella at Spanking Stories Book Club.http://writercelestejones.blogspot.com/


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An Open Apology for “Capcha”: 

I love to hear your comments. Every author loves to hear positive comments. Every author who is serious about improving her or his work should at least give thoughtful consideration to constructive negative comments, the key word being “constructive”. Sorry about the “Capcha”, but I had a run in with some nasty trolls a while back. I’d no sooner block a name, than the same individual (same misspelled words and grammatical errors) would post under another name. I had to add moderation to the comments. I didn't realize that moderating at my end added a “capcha" at yours. Once again, sorry for any inconvenience. CK


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Check out the rest of the fun at the Saturday Spankings Bloghop http://saturdayspankings.blogspot.com/



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Also available from Ken Charles:




The Naughty Ladies Of Cotton Glen


http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0092Y0ELU

For our friends in Europe:

http://www.amazon.it/Naughty-Ladies-Cotton-Glen-ebook/dp/B0092Y0ELU



The Mercies of Cinderella 

This is no Disney princess‭!



http://www.blushingbooks.com/index.php?l=product_detail&p=2551

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00FR2K8JO

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/The-Mercies-of-Cinderella?store=allproducts&keyword=The+Mercies+of+Cinderella

1 comment:

  1. Filled with emotion... "Curiously, she was no longer smirking"... just about sums up this very visual and wonderfully exampled snippet's tale...

    ReplyDelete