Tenth Muse Top

Valentine's Day

2012-02-14T16:17:00.002Z

Valentine's Day

Hello Lovely readers, lovers of the world, of the arts, of the things we do... It's been a little while, but I have written a story for all the lovers out there.... A silly thing full of chocolates and passion.... A story full of promises for Valentine's Day... Click on the link and sink your teeth into the goodies therein!

Love you all!

(And love you 'A' in particular!)

TMT

Love and Spanking

2012-01-01T17:21:00.001Z

As I was decorating my kitchen, I found myself considering issues that were brought up in a discussion on Alyx’s blog, and my thoughts have wandered a bit from that thread (this is what wielding a paintbrush for far too long does to you) and got a bit too protracted to be polite in a post over there, so I’m starting an occasional ‘TMT’s Thoughts’ thing here, inspired by that thread and inhaling paint fumes!

I was thinking about the idea of 'perfection' in terms of what makes a perfect spanking partner? Specifically with regards to TTWD, and I realised that even with the hottest, most responsive playmate, who knows exactly what the ‘game’ scenario is (if it is a game) or indeed, what the rules are (if it is a DD situation) for me nothing heightens an interaction more than emotional content... Love.

When everything really kicks in for me, when I am alive with the creative potential of spanking, of what is and will be happening, it is extraordinary, but it is the established, deeply loving relationship which takes the encounter to exceptional heights. It is the love and the understanding of the woman I am with, her knowledge of me - and mine of her - which gives us the trust to give and take power and to really let go.

When a woman is open and cool with it, God that is sexy, and add to that: dignity, heat, humour and love – and you have the best of all experiences waiting to happen.

Perfection to me isn’t really in the ‘design’ of a discipline situation, nor even in an exquisite, mind-blowing interaction; perfection lies in the ability to resolve and evolve between me and my partner – and this is where my thoughts turned to the different hues in notions of ‘danger.’

The unknown will always have its inherent excitement. The stranger-casual-encounter. We all have those fantasies… and even favourite, fabulous adventures. Similarly, the danger in formal arrangements, made by appointment with a professional, is thrilling. There are risks in negotiating and becoming vulnerable in each situation (and Tops are vulnerable too) and heaven knows, I’m not knocking either, but there is a different riskiness, which is sometimes overlooked, I think, when you engage in TTWD in a committed relationship. One which is still hot, but is also very scary.

It is a fear, though, which once faced, is beyond satisfying… It touches on how we step into the realm of sensations, merging physical with emotional, becoming almost spiritual in experience and expression, so that between you both, around you, a magical, tender world is made.

When you love the person you are engaging with and you want to please her and you want her to please you, this carries its own dangers. You can’t hide behind ‘lack of knowledge’ if issues come up, because you know each other too well. You know what she is feeling and she knows you and what you might be going through.

Being open can feel risky, becoming vulnerable can be terrifying; or, as a Top, holding your partner’s vulnerability in your hands as she looks at you, waiting… there is a moment of danger. Can you get it right? And as you move towards her, you know that there is nothing so humbling or touching as feeling the responsibility of her pleasure and the honour she gives you in her trust. It is amazing.

And so, to me, the ‘perfect’ TTWD relationship to be in, is one with great communication. It is open, honest, prepared to be afraid at times and trusting the other to be, not just strong and present, but kind and loving too… Perfection is actually about knowing we have flaws, that we will take risks and get some things wrong occasionally, but that we have the emotional tools to work through them: because then, *then* when you look into her eyes and you both start letting go, the love between you makes TTWD so powerful, so heartfelt and so rewarding. Then you know what it is to feel blessed by another’s love.

Happy New Year, by the way, may 2012 be a beautiful year and full of love for you and yours!!!

XX ~ TMT

Love Our Lurkers Day 6

2011-11-10T01:54:00.001Z

Hello Lurkers and friends alike - Happy Love our Lurkers Day!!!

Now I may have got this a little wrong... I know this is the day for you lovely lurkers to hopefully feel more comfortable about delurking and saying hello, but I just thought... maybe... if I ... made something specially for you... something a little less dry and wordy than my usual fare then you might feel like connecting, saying hi and leaving a comment... So... I made a video about TTWD, from a poem...and it is my gift for you... and it has pictures....and music ... turn you speakers up... Welcome to my blog and enjoy... Bonfire Night

This is my first video so do let me know what you think! :)
Below!

Head over to Bonnie's for a list of all the Bloggers who are participating in Love Our
Lurkers Day

Announcing

2011-11-07T14:30:00.002Z

Thursday November 10th is a special day -

~ it is 'Love our Lurkers' day ~

where we bloggers salute you the silent ones

...Those who stop by and hang out all shyly

not daring to say hello ~ It is your day!!! ~

If you visit me on Thursday, I have a special treat

just for you called 'Bonfire Night' -it is hot!!

I would love it if you said hi & tell me what you think about this little corner of the blogosphere

Bonnie is Whipping bloggers into shape! You will find a list of those who are working all out just to make it a wonderful day for you at her place... follow the link for magical adventures... and come back for a very different TMT experience.... love ~ TMT

A little introduction to the Prize... bg

2011-10-28T17:03:00.000+01:00

Redemption by Tenth Muse Top

Redemption

Author’s ramble: (click on the title to read the story)

Here’s a tale… an unexpected tale… It wasn’t the one I meant to write, rather was the one the characters wrote themselves…

I asked Micah for three elements to a spanking story, which I would write for her as her prize for winning the caption contest, and she gave me: a paddle; OTK as a position and a loving relationship. These three are Micah’s and I thank her for them, and also apologise to her as the rest is entirely my fault – as well as these characters whose lives we arrive at in the middle of an unfolding drama.

It is the last item, ‘the loving relationship,’ which most of all determined the surprising direction of the story. This is not a ‘first time, let’s get hot and bothered’ story, but one where lovers in a DD partnership, who know each other well, suddenly find themselves in unfamiliar territory and their relationship is put to the test; after all, the proof of a relationship is whether it can withstand pressure; whether love can ultimately prevail. *smile* I’m not making any promises – you’ll have to read it to see.

I added a fourth element to the story, which is that it is loosely illustrated with quotes from ‘The Lover’s Tale’ by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, a difficult piece of Victoriana if ever there was one and I have used and abused these out of context, entirely to suit my own purposes, because I like the lines in question and also because even domestic stories, rather like our lives, have sudden epic moments– and it’s then we turn to the words of others for enlightenment and for solace. Or just to reflect the absolute beauty of the human experience.

I think this story probably asks more questions than it answers about TTWD and I am still undecided as to whether the decisions the characters make are the right ones… I’ll let you make up your own minds about that. Feel free to let me know your thoughts too!

My heartfelt thanks to Alyx, whose fine calibre as an editor is only exceeded by her rigorous toplyness - er - I mean by her generous, lovely and sexy nature as a woman.

TMT October 2011

...AND THE WINNER IS...

2011-07-31T00:55:00.000+01:00

-But before that I'd just like to say -

It wasn't just hard to choose a winner, it was nigh on impossible because the entries are so brilliant - you all could have won - so thank you to everyone who took part - what a creative and witty lot you are. Genuinely funny and this Top here has been smiling all week! Below are the entries posted in the order they appeared - the winner is no (5) - MICAH!!! - I'll send you a mail, so we can discuss your prize! :-D (No: 11 is my contribution)

1) Mistress? ... Mistress, are you awake? *groan*

2) Are we allowed to have more than one go?

3) "My goodness, when you ask for 'a room with a view' this hotel sure doesn't fool around!"

4) "A moment of quiet contemplation, as Sharon decides which hole she wants to ravish first!"

5) Honey...does this make my butt look big???

6) Wait, wait... I think we've made a mistake... when 69ing, the head is at the base of the curve, not the end of the stick!

7) "Baby, I must warn you I had taco for dinner" :)

8) TMT Productions presents Mica Hunt and Connie Lundquist in their new movie...The Tonguelashing...coming in a room near you

9) Honey, are you sure this is the way Twister is supposed to be played?

10) The Buddy System Diet Plan really works. Whenever Lisa gets a case of the munchies...

11) Sally's new job as senior product tester for Stilettos Inc had taken an unexpected turn.

Till Next Time

Be good!

~Aer

Caption Contest!!!

2011-07-25T09:07:00.000+01:00

I know - I'm taking longer than I intended for my next story. I'm sorry. I'm a bit unfocused due to some really poky little antibiotics that give me a very short attention span. Sorry to you lovely loyal readers who check in once in a while... but look -

- here's a distraction to reward you for your patience -

The best caption to the above wins a prize: give me three elements to your favourite spanking and I'll write you a few paragraphs for your own private personal story.

Be good!

~Aer

Just a taste of what is to come.

2011-06-13T14:54:00.000+01:00

I'm in the process of re-arranging the design of this blog as my next story is long and I'm still working out the best way to post it... Those Nuns are just epic in what they have to say for themselves and require a new heavenly sphere (translation - 'page') all of their own. So forgive the tinkering, the sounds of banging (no not like that) (well, ok, but only when I'm on my tea-break) and menus appearing and disappearing before your very eyes, as if by magic. I'm a Top - we never get things wrong... just uh... mislay stuff occasionally.

So, there is now a stories menu at the top of the page, from where you can navigate to my stories old and...new. Very soon, 'Lectio Divina' - the story of the Abbess, the Princess and the Whore will be coming to a page near here. Within the fortnight, all things being well. Stay tuned, oh patient readers... Here's a little taster... And please let me know if links and things don't work!

Thank you and be good ;-)

~ Aer

The Art of Noise - Part 5

2010-12-29T16:22:00.000Z

~ The Art of Noise ~

Part5

"Stand and follow me."

Eleanor lifted herself from the desk, disorientated – and nearly fell over her pants. A strong hand caught her arm, steadying her, then let her go. Madeleine’s eyes indicated her sneakers and pants with an insolent flick up and down her body.

Looking directly at Eleanor, she said “You might as well remove them.” Her voice was low, slightly breathy, but not quite soft.

Ellen found herself, as if in a dream, bending to unlace her shoes and slip out of them and her pants in one movement. The skin on her ass complained about the sudden action. Warily, she stood again. Her heart thudded.

Ms. Adams was seated on the central cushion of the couch, back straight and knees together, smoothing her skirt. She looked up.

“Approach.” she said

Electricity running all over her body, Ellen did her best to obey. Her legs felt like lead – her knees without structure. She tried to keep herself – and her pride – together and attempted a sort of saunter towards the couch, stopping a little short of her now former boss.

All this was achieved under the calm gaze of Madeleine Adams. Her full mouth pursed slightly.

“Hm.” Her knees were perfectly poised to receive her victim. “Closer.”

Ellen managed one step, only to stop and stare down at Madeleine’s lap, suddenly paralyzed with anxiety. Molten juices flooded through her. She caught her breath.

Madeleine looked up through thick eyelashes.

“You know the next bit. You have watched it online enough times, haven’t you?”

A tremor ran through Ellen’s body. Her face felt hot again. If only I could breathe!

“I know you have.”

“I…” she gasped, “don’t think… I can.” It was impossible – there was no way her body could fold and bend and…and… do that! Not unless her legs actually gave way so she just collapsed over the lap.

She was rewarded with a smile. A slow, beautiful smile.

“Yeah, sure you can. Here.” A hand was held out to her and she took it. Just for a moment, her hand was held, squeezed, comforted. The slightest tension and she took another step forward.

Madeleine smiled again and glanced at Ellen’s underwear.

“Pure white silk. How very apt. Wanna know my theory?” The warm hand drew her another inch closer. She could see the shape of the seated woman’s thighs – iron curves moulded under the grey skirt which ended just above beautiful brown knees. The sight made her nipples stand on end.

No! No – I don’t want to know!

“Sure.” She replied and swallowed. Madeleine let go of her hand and brushed Ellen’s muscular thigh softly.

“You’d like the world to believe that you’re a real toughie, wouldn't you? Yet here you are, standing with your rosy bottom glowing through your knickers.” Fingers tickled through the silk as she spoke and then touched her waistband, “You're here because you want to be here. You are so much more innocent than you think, Ms. Lee, despite your internet fantasies, which I grant you are extensive, and I don‘t say that just because you have these little white panties on.” She chuckled.

Ellen couldn’t look her in the eyes, her attention was intent on looking down into Madeleine’s attractive cleavage. Tanned skin pushing out the white shirt, revealing and concealing beautiful breasts. This angle is perfect. Wow. It was a worthy and welcome distraction. After all, the theory was far too embarrassing to listen to!

Her thigh was cupped in a compelling grip and, caught out, she was forced to take another step closer. Oh God. The lap was looming,

“However… if you are very, very lucky–” Now, a fingertip was teasing the elastic of her knickers, “– I might teach you just how innocent you are. For now–” The palm slid up over her bottom, “I’m going to teach you a rather more basic lesson.” She stroked the thigh again, but then captured Eleanor’s wrist, applying insistent pressure which ensured that the gasping woman was taken easily over her lap.

Eleanor was positioned effortlessly, her breasts and arms falling away over one thigh, her fingers touching the carpet, her hips pressed against the other iron thigh, her mons balanced on muscle and her bottom arched, curved tight and presented so perfectly that every sexual feeling she had experienced thus far in this room rifled through her body, almost painfully.

“Ohhhhhhhhh.” She had no control over her responses now, and was moaning and panting loudly.

She felt a hand take charge of her by resting between her shoulder blades, a little pressure to let her know that there would be no escape now. The other hand ran between her thighs, upwards to cup her buttocks.

“Have you noticed that there is no music?” Madeleine stroked the upturned bottom thoughtfully.

“Ye-ess. Ohhhh.” God…please!

“That’s because I want the only sound you hear to be the sound of my palm striking your bare bottom, to the point where you actually feel that sound and when you can’t take any more, then you must use the release-phrase I will give you and I will release you, the music will be turned up and you may make as much noise as you need to. But until that point, you must be quiet while I give you a very, very thorough spanking.”

She stroked the wet patch between Ellen’s thighs with such skill that Eleanor bucked: moaning loudly.

“Oh!”

SPANK!    It was sharp and it was hot and it jolted her aching vulva - which was just cruel.

“Hush. If you make a noise before I give you permission, then your punishment will end, you will not be released… and there will be no more kissing. Understand?”

“That’s evil!”

With that, both hands left her, so that Ellen was left dangling and gasping over her former employer’s lap. She braced herself with a hand on the carpet.

“Last chance.”

Panic raced around Ellen’s system – Oh no, she can’t end it now!!! But she knew she could.

“Yes, Ma’am – understood!” Only later did Eleanor marvel at the speed of her reaction to Madeleine’s threat or how, right there and then, she had submitted in every way to what was to come. In that one exchange, she was possessed, but it took a year before she found out whether her former employer knew it too

“So would you like to know the release phrase?”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Sweet pressure from her mons to the strong thigh supporting it, re-ignited her whole body – she was on fire – and greater than ever before. She let out an animal-like pant.

“Tom Jones.” There was just the hint of a laugh in Madeleine’s voice.

Eleanor could only convey how dumb that was by burying her head as low down as she could and pulling at the thick pile carpet with her fingers, her mind filled with expletives.

“You better remember it, because you will not come until you say it – I can keep you on the edge for as long as I want to, ok? Raise your hand if you understand me.”

Hating herself, Eleanor raised her right hand, resentfully. And she thinks that I have ‘unique’ tastes!? How kinky is she? She was careful to obey though.

“Well alright.”

Fingertips circled the silk of her knickers. Ellen knew what was coming. She’s playing with me!   Ellen released a sigh in short breaths. Inside a leg, a finger smoothed the line where the elastic had been, then five fingers cupped her left cheek, before sliding out again. Her right elastic line was smoothed, but this time the fingers trailed up outside her panties to run under her waistband, threatening the exposure she desperately needed and totally dreaded.

“I‘m going to take you panties down now.”

Ms. Adams worked her way inside, lifting the silk fabric against the back of her hand.   She moved over the buttocks, first one way, then the other, lowering the knickers with consummate ease. The elastic pinged slightly just below butt level and the cool evening air raced in to announce loudly to the room that Eleanor’s cheeks were naked, exposed and quivering. She clenched them, thought this must look stupid and let them go again. Pins and needles of expectation burst across the surface of her skin.

“The bare bottom spanking. It’s the ultimate expression of submission, you know. It’s sexual," her skin was brushed silkily, “and it is punitive, given to women” – the note of sarcasm in her voice was not lost on Ellen – “for whom there is a deep need for correction, for penitence, and for domination. Your bottom is already pink and warm and striped – and it is evidence of your need, Ms. Lee.”

Hey! Now there’s no need for –

Her palm struck Ellen centrally. It was a slap and it rang around the silent room. It was wonderful. SLAP! One cheek quivered, SLAP! Then the other, SLAP! Her sit spot was warmed. SLAP! The top of her right buttock. SLAP! The lowest part of her left jolted against Madeleine’s thigh.

Oh! Oh! Oh – GOD!!!

Eleanor began to buck, panting, trying not to make any sound. She had definitely never been so turned on in her life.

The quiet voice continued, but a hand swiftly removed her knickers altogether. Her bare legs kicked in objection. Madeleine ignored them.

“Bad girls get spanked, as do uppity young women and mouthy dykes. In this case, you are being spanked because you will never realize your full potential while you continue to–” SPANK! The sound was much louder and the corresponding pain was much sharper – SPANK! “–squander your time on fantasies and ‘trying to get your boss's attention!”

Lazy slaps underscored this speech. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! These were stingy, and all over her butt and Eleanor was throbbing, bouncing, thrusting, desperately trying to keep sound from escaping from her body, aside from the noise of Ms. Adams palm striking her bare bottom. She was hyperventilating with the effort to be quiet

SPANK! Every wall in the office amplified that one – and it ricocheted around the space before the pain actually arrived in Eleanor’s brain.

Ahhhhhhhh! It was only a breath, but in her mind it was a scream. Fuck!

She was gasping, the breath being dragged out of her and she was fighting to get it back. Her hips thrust repeatedly against the firm thigh and she felt Ms. Adams's palm ride them, pressing hard.

“Be still, Eleanor. You are being inappropriate.”

Oh GODDD! Outrage burst though her, but the burning, yearning, longing for orgasm kept her quiet. For God’s sake!

She obeyed, her vulva pulsing, almost in agony. Her breathing was ragged.

“Shhhh.” The tingliest of caresses, fingertip light, began to elevate all sensations into a blissful realm that she had only ever imagined before: she was throbbing, pulsing, flying, under the touch – yet not quite coming. She still wriggled, but less demonstratively.

Her cheek was squeezed, a thumb running lower and lower, over her swollen lips and two delicate fingers gathered her juices on the return pass. She continued to tease and stroke Ellen’s burning cheeks as she spoke.

“Spankings are all different. There is the short, fierce reminder or punishment for a minor offence. There is the major transgression corrector and there is this type: the lesson, long overdue, needing to be learned. And you will learn it.”

Her palm began to spank Eleanor again, faster, slappier, noisier in a steady unrelenting pace. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! Her bottom jiggled as she tried to get away, but was chased down. SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! Her ass was scalding hot. SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! Slightly harder, the burn was now consuming her entire body – it was deafening. She kicked out, grabbing at Madeleine’s knees, but was held firmly in place. SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! She didn’t care anymore and she fought, trying to get up, trying to fuck her punisher’s thigh, trying to breathe, trying to come, trying – Oh for fuck’s SAKE!   – SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! SLA–

“Tom Jones!” she cried. Her voice sounded weird to her, but she was yowling from desire, from frustration and from pain.

She was also swiftly swung around onto the sofa and onto her back, her legs falling apart and Madeleine was above her, her fingers stroking Ellen, her lips descending to take Ellen’s in a searing, passionate kiss. She thrust her hips into Ellen's parted thighs, pushing into her own hand powerfully, seeking, teasing.

Ellen’s lips were nuzzling, receiving, nipping, responding hotly in kind, and then Madeleine moaned – a heart-expanding, soul-stirring moan and it all but melted Ellen into the couch. She broke away, gasping, while fingers and hips rubbed fire through her body in a slow crazy-making rhythm.

Madeleine raised herself up enough to look down, her hand wet and still in Eleanor’s curls. She nipped Ellen's lower lip, softly…

“..Sooo..” kiss, “what do you say?” Her fingers were parting lips, oiling every surface, insinuating themselves, dipping deeper – but never deep enough. She tantalized Ellen’s neck with her tongue.

“Oh God – please oh, please – Please!” Eleanor was close to tears, but her thighs were, mercifully, pressed further apart. Two fingers slipped into her, thrusting slowly, fucking her, sliding into her swollen, dripping channel, pulling out, powering in. Dominating her, taking her higher, higher, higher. Ellen grabbed at a kiss, her hands in the thick wavy hair, pulling Madeleine into her urgently, her orgasm building.

“Ohhhhhh OH Ohhh! I need I need–”

Madeleine understood and pushed away, down onto her knees, her mouth finding and worshipping Ellen’s clit, licking strongly, sucking rhythmically, squeezing a burning buttock with one hand and still fucking Ellen with the other, pushing her on and on and on and over the edge.

Eleanor howled her orgasm into the office until she was weeping and absolutely, totally spent.

“OH GOD OH GOD OH OH OhhhhhhhhhhhhhOhOhhhhhhhhh

In the ragged silence that followed, she felt little kisses around her thighs, and a corresponding breathlessness from her lover. She didn’t realize it, but tears were pouring down her cheeks and Madeleine was moving up her body to comfort her. “Heyyy…” and holding her sweetly, gathering her into her arms, kissing her hair, her lips, her tears. Rocking her. “It’s okay.”

Eleanor clung to her, trying to catch her breath, sensations still overwhelming her. But she was held, and after a time, raised her lips for the kiss she had sold her job for. It was returned with interest: soft, sweet, lingering, erotic, loving, passionate. Nippy. This was definitely worth it!

A thought occurred to her and she broke away.

“Hey! What happened to turning the music up?”

Madeleine smiled. “Didn’t have time.” She tickled Ellen’s tummy.

Ridiculously, Eleanor was annoyed. “But… but what about the cleaners?” She took in a breath – “I thought you said that –”

Her lips were silenced by a finger. Madeleine shook her head, bemused.

“This room is soundproofed, not just physically, but technologically. Even the FBI would have trouble picking up your spanking.”

Oh. “Oh…” Suddenly Ellen was laughing. “You rat!” She pulled Madeleine down into a kiss. “I can’t believe you did that to me!” Her hands cupped the breasts while their tongues played out a mesmerizing dance in another wild kiss.

“Oh God, I want to make love to you.”

“I know.” Kiss. Hands caught Ellen’s gently. “But not here. There will be time for that… and I have something I want you to see.”

“Oh! Now, please, make love now?” Eleanor wriggled underneath her.

“No. Later…You‘re going to be homeless by a week from tomorrow, unless we get you sorted out.” She was already up on one knee and rearranging her blouse, brushing down her skirt.

“What!? What are you talking about!?” Eleanor forgot about sex and fought her way up to a sitting position.

“I cancelled your pay check. You’ve been, fired remember? - But – no listen – there’s a property down by the lake – it goes with the new job I’m going to give you – and it’s much better pay too… So… we have an appointment to view in…” she picked her watch up from the arm of the sofa... “35 minutes. You think we should make that?”

Ellen looked her. “You are so damn sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Madeleine put her watch on.

“ And our agreement… You remember that? And making love soon? Do you promise?”

Again Madeleine smiled.

“Sure, you know I do. Come on – get dressed.” She dangled Ellen’s silk knickers on one finger. “Of course, you have a lot to learn about making deals. Only two weekends in six weeks? I would have given you three.”

Eleanor just stared at her. She could have kicked herself and wished - oh how she wished…But then she suddenly recognized the game, even if she only just had a toe-hold in it. She batted her lashes.

“Ok-ay… So are you going to teach me, Ms. Adams? How to make deals?”

Madeleine caressed Ellens’ cheek. “Maybe. For sure, I have developed my own unique teaching methods - and my lessons are never forgotten, Eleanor. Not if you want to sit anytime soon” A breathy kiss. “Now - come on.”

**************************************************

And so ends my little office tale... Do let me know if you enjoyed it and would like more from this couple!

The Art of Noise Part 4

2010-12-27T15:40:00.000Z

~ The Art of Noise ~

Part 4

“Well she always knows her place, She’s got style she‘s got grace-”

The music seemed to have been turned up. Jeez! That doesn’t bode well! Eleanor considered the possibility that there was a direct correlation between the stereo volume and the fierceness of Ms. Adams chastisement. It made her ...quiver. Madeleine’s determined tone got her attention easy enough though.

“Now, I am going to reward you for your dress sense, for your disobedience and for your flouting of company regulations. We shall get to your attitude later. Your pants are where they should be - underscoring your disgrace - and this,” the wooden ruler was laid flat across her cheeks, “will be the means by which you learn to properly consider just how you want to go about getting your superior’s attention in the future. Six of the best and you will count them.”

“She’s a lady. Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, She’s a lady.”

Eleanor was busy feeling annoyed by the song - she’d always thought it sexist. The fact that, right at this particular moment in time, it was contributing to turning her on even more was just infuriating to her. Madeleine’s voice again interrupted her thoughts -

“Eleanor? I gave you an instruction.”

“Yes Ma’am, I will count them.” Another involuntary spasm rifled from her vulva through her entire body. Ellen forgot her resentment and groaned.

The ruler brushed her silk knickers while Ms. Adams took aim, then with a pleasing rush of cool air about Ellen’s thighs, was drawn swiftly back - halting at the high end of its arc. The resultant rush of air as Madeleine propelled it towards Eleanor’s bottom registered on her consciousness only fleetingly before the stinging WHACK across both trembling cheeks made her jump in the air in shock. It landed in time with the music.

“WhoaAaa!” Eleanor cried out.

“Begin.” Madeleine’s fingers carefully smoothed the silk covering her cheeks - not for comfort, but to keep Eleanor tidy.

“One,” choked Ellen. That was fierce!

The ruler was held lightly across her sit spot. It threatened everything.

“I always treat her with respect, I would never abuse her.”

“Screw Tom Jones! Thought Eleanor. “This is so not funny!”

“You will stop following me about.”

“Yes, Ma-am!”

Again the wood left her, paused, and the now expected rush of air as it mercilessly struck her ass was not in the least bit soothing.

WHACK!!!

Her jump in the air followed in perfect time to the music.

“OWW!! Two!” Searing pain consumed her senses.

“Never wear those pants to a place of work again!”

“No! No - Ma’am!”

The ruler tapped Eleanor’s knees, making her straighten her posture, it lifted her ass a little with steady pressure and, once again, her knickers were smoothed back into place with a cool gesture. Eleanor submitted to all of this without thought. The top of her cheeks were measured with a lightly flipped caress and then the air was rushing towards her ass again.

WHACK!!!

“Ooo ooo - OWW - Three!”

“What the hell is it with those sneakers!?!”

Gasping, near to tears, Eleanor clutched the edges of the desk, trying to hang on to her self-control. That hurt like hell!

“Uh..uh…I like them?” Ms Adams rhythm stalled and Eleanor’s brain caught up with her mouth. Dumb, dumb, dumb! She felt, rather than heard, her boss's sigh and the music pounded back into her awareness.

“Well she knows what I’m about, she can take what I dish out, and that’s not easy-”

There was no way that Ellen was going to apologize. No way, not for wearing expensive, trendy trainers! You can kiss my -

Deft fingers took the elasticized waistband of her knickers and swept them down, to nestle at the tops of her thighs, framing her cheeks. Ellen gasped. Oh no!

“Well she knows me through and through, she knows just what to do and how to please me -”

The ruler placed itself along the red stripe across the tops of her cheeks. There would be no mercy.   Its arrival, in the same place as the last stroke, was a lightning strike of evil stinging.

WHACKKKK!!!!!!!

“OW OW OW OW - I am SO sorry!” Her lungs were fighting to catch her breath - the stripe burning not just on and in her ass, but everywhere, even in her mind.

“GOD, please - I’m sorry!”

Madeleine’s stillness and silence appeared to indicate that she had been moved by this appeal. She stroked the central line of Ellen’s buttocks with her hand, caressing the round flesh further. Then business-like fingers re-dressed the cheeks and Eleanor’s bottom was once again covered by her panties.

“Th-thank you.” And Eleanor was grateful.

“That’s better, Ms. Lee.” The hand smoothed the silk taut across her bottom.

“Yes, Ma’am.” She wasn’t so sure about that now.

She felt the wood find a virgin place between the searing stripes on her butt and rest there. She knew Madeleine’s attention would be authoritative, reserved and professional. Only two more! She hoped.

“Talkin’ about this little lady, whoa, whoa whoa. And the lady is mine.”

The ruler was at its arc, the target made -

WHACK!!!

It was noticeably the lightest stripe and the compassion from Madeleine that this indicated touched Eleanor’s heart.

“Oww! Four, thank you, Ms. Adams!” The music was turned down slightly.

“Never be late for work again!” Her voice was quiet.

“NOOO MA’AM!” The hand soothed her.

“Shhh. It’s ok.”

Breeze. WHACK!!! ! She jumped.

Again, it was lighter, but this hardly mattered anymore, because Eleanor’s ass was ablaze. Every little stroke just made her aware of this fact. Perversely, it also began to rekindle her other half-forgotten furnace.

“Ow-ow-ow-owwww - Five!” Her voice was loud against the music, unlike her boss’s response.

“Try actually doing a full day's work. Even large corporations, such as mine, can ill-afford timewasters.”

“Yes, yes - I will!”

A gentle finger, inserted inside her knicker-leg, pulled the silk down, so the whole garment fitted perfectly, snug around her butt. Ohhh... The ruler measured along the last seemingly unpunished line of skin, though how she knew where that was, under the satiny fabric, Ellen could only wonder.

Madeleine held it there, waiting.

Eleanor gasped in anticipation of a blow which didn’t come. She heard a chuckle, then felt the rush of air as the ruler was drawn back.

WHACK!!!! Too hot!

“FOR Christ’s sake!!! - SIX!”

“You are so fired, Lil Missy.”

WHACK!!!

“Ow-OWW!   Heyyy - What was that for??!!” Her insubordination was instantly quelled by the ruler making a sudden impression on her manners via steady pressure across her sit spot. It was a threat and she knew it. Ellen’s response was instinctive.

“Seven!” She squeaked.

“Luck.” replied her boss lightly, which, if Ellen could have, made her want to stand up and slap her. Luck? What the f--? Of course, she couldn’t actually move a muscle, aside from the odd little buck against the walnut desk. And these bucks were making her need sweeter and her ability to resist, weaker.

The ruler clattered onto the desk next to her and Madeleine walked away.

Luck? Eleanor suddenly remembered their agreement. All of this had just been a..a.. oh no… a… preamble. New alarm refreshed her nerves. How long must she stay here like this, bent over, prone? She tried to feel annoyed, to find some fight.

Ms. Adams was fiddling somewhere in the room… and Eleanor became aware of two further facts: that the latent burning of her, very localized sexual need, not hot enough for her to come anymore, would just about ruin her weekend if she couldn’t sort it out - and it's only Thursday!!! And - there was no music. The room was quiet.

This is how she could hear the intriguing sounds Madeleine made as she went about her business. Ellen heard her return to her side.

A gentle hand was placed on her naked skin in the small of her back.

“I want you to remain here while you consider your options, Ms. Lee. You can still pull up your pants, and I will give you your job back, and we will never talk to each other again. Or… You will give yourself to me and I will take you - and free you - after you have been spanked as you so desire, on your bare bottom over a woman‘s knee. Over my knee.”

She left again, walking across the room.

Ellen’s forehead was pressed against the cool desk. She wasn’t sure if she could move anymore, let alone stand up and actually leave, but even so, the very idea of her bottom being finally, totally stripped, her humiliation, her spanking and then, please God, her so long delayed orgasm, rendering her vulnerable and at the mercy of a woman she hardly knew, just terrified her. This is torture.

Madeleine had walked over to the door - only now locking it, Eleanor realized. Damn she trusts her employees to respect her space! Double, double, DOUBLE damn - what on earth is she gonna do now???

Ms. Adams turned and slid the jacket from her shoulders while making her way back across the office. It was laid neatly over the arm of a couch.

Now she was standing next to Eleanor and ran a caress up the stricken woman’s right thigh. Her voice was distant. “This has been fun. And you can still go home and have a job in the morning. Do you want to do that?”

You just locked the door, you arrogant, manipulative -

Fingertips stroked tingly circles at the base of her spine.

“No.” It was a moan.

The strokes became a gentle caress, sweeping down over her burning buttocks, tickling her thighs, stroking her cheeks, toying with her underwear waistband.

“Sure?”

“Please…Oh!”

Fingers pressed against her slick vulva through the fabric, then were gone, taking her wetness with them.

“Stand and follow me.”

**************************

The Art of Noise - Part 5

The Art of Noise - Part 3

2010-12-26T16:10:00.000Z

~ The Art of Noise ~

Part 3

“God - GOD!” Damn! This was going to be harder than Eleanor had ever imagined.

“She said ‘that ain’t the way to have fun, son. That ain’t the way to have fun, son!”

Ellen felt a steadying hand on the small of her back, then the soft breasts touching her shoulder blades again and a low voice breathed in her ear.

“Oh we need the music - unless you’d like the staff to be listening to your howls and punishment?” Lips nibbled her ear.

“Not fair! Ohhhhh. They’ve …all gone home, Ma’am.”

“Hm.” Madeleine’s body was gone, but the contact was replaced by a strong palm, held against her buttocks. “So - do you think that the building cleans itself, Ms Lee?”

The sole spank which punctuated this question jolted her against the desk, wobbling her buttocks back against the palm which then remained in place having delivered its stinging gift.

“No-NO!!!!”

Suddenly, Eleanor was grateful for the loud, if stupid, music.

“Good. Now then….”

The ruler was laid lightly across her bottom. Its touch sent wetness coursing through Eleanor’s most intimate throbbing core. Despite herself, she gasped.

Ms. Adams voice continued calmly.

“Now are you really sure? You can always take option one and we will never mention this again.” The ruler pressed gently, removing all possible thought from Ellen's mind and filling her with just one sensation: need. Eleanor responded to it, groaning, and lowered her forehead onto the cool desk - an action which made her butt arch upwards.

“Thank you.” Madeleine's voice was laced with irony. She took a breath and adjusted her stance next to Eleanor, measuring the distance between them.

“Eleanor Lee, in the last five weeks you have given me cause for great concern.” The ruler swatted her with three light, stingy, little blows. They didn’t hurt so much, but they left a warmth that began to drive Eleanor’s already eroticized parts crazy. She gasped again, trying to catch her breath, but her response was all too sexual for her boss and the next stroke was a searing thwack which made her jump and cry out.

“Pay attention, Ms Lee, or pay the consequences.”

“Yes Ma’am!” She was paying attention now.

“These pants, for example.” The ruler began a persistent light swatting all over the offending article- THWICK-THWICK-THWICK - efficiently covering every inch of her pert bottom - THWICK-THWICK-THWICK

Ah! Ah! Ah!
“Are not regulation, are they?”

THWICK-THWICK-THWICK - The tops of her thighs were rewarded with skilled biting strokes. THWICK-THWICK-THWICK - Then the ruler returned to work expertly around again - THWICK-THWICK-THWICK - giving maximum coverage to Eleanor’s presented bottom.

Eleanor was shivering, waiting in dread for the next fierce strike but frustrated too by Ms Adam's control. She felt as if she was melting into the desk, juices flooding her core and the resultant tingling ran up her spine to her scalp and all the way down to her toes.

Each stroke was only a brief sting and it only just hurt and yet, in unison with the other strokes, the three earlier blows, and the relentless pace and coverage, contributed to raising the most incredible heat across her entire ass.

For Eleanor, though, it was still the other heat, throbbing, pulsing, demanding attention that was beginning to drive her into a writhing, bucking heap on top of the antique walnut desk. She was beside herself, on fire. But not, as yet, in any overwhelmingly great pain.

The ruler stopped and was replaced by a palm and thumb gently rubbing. This only served to intensify the burning, though Ellen was too lost in sensation to manage a reply until a wicked SPANK brought her sharply back to the present.

“No.” It was more a squeak than a word, but it would do.

“Yet you have insisted on wearing them - why?” The hand squeezed her right cheek.

“Uh! God…Uh…” This was so not fair! How can a woman think when- SPANK!

“Excuse me?” Madeleine’s voice was stern. “I thought that -” SPANK! Eleanor groaned with embarrassment at the wobbling of her buttocks -“I made it clear -” SPANK! “- that you must submit to me now?” The palm measured itself against Eleanor’s tender sit spot and landed three lazy slaps. They hurt, but they weren’t enough and it was driving her crazy. She tried to overplay her re-action, in order to force something more to happen.

“Ow! OWWW! I’m sorry! These pants are wrong! I shouldn’t wear them! I’M SORRY-EEE!”

She was aware of stillness beside her and music.

“Don't know what it is - I dont wanna see no more!”

“Hmm.” Madeleine Adams leaned against the desk beside her, apparently thinking. She returned to her chair and sat down, her cleavage in direct line of vision.

“Mama told me not to come, Mama told me not to come...”

Eleanor was trying hard not to look at it - and failing miserably. She closed her eyes, sweat beading on her brow. Her own chest heaving against the leather desk. One thought burned in her brain. If I could just come now..

“She said, that ain’t the way to have fun, son. She said, that ain’t the way to have fun!”

Madeleine spoke.

“I agree. So - remove them.”

“Wh-What???” Panic made her voice squeak even higher. Her head shot up in alarm. This sent spasms through her vulva. “Ohhhhh…god…” She was panting. She was so close.

“I said,” Madeleine took her chin between her fingers, gently commanding her posture and her control,   “I agree. Lean back, Ms, Lee, and take your pants down. They are a disgrace, especially when worn with those trainers, and therefore I consider it necessary that part of your punishment is experienced with your pants down around your ankles.” The fingers lifted Ellen’s chin higher making eye contact unavoidable. “Unless… You were insincere in your apology?” They tightened, just a little.

“Uh! No! I meant it.” Oh my God. Eleanor was already so turned on that she thought she might just come accidentally, but this new development was sending tingles to places she didn’t even know could tingle. Her nipples stroked the desk and she gasped involuntarily.

“Oh…oh..”

A thumb ran gently along her lips.

“Obey me, then.”

Ellen reached back, her fingertips fumbling lightly with her waistband, running over the top button above the zipper, trying to work their way into the fabric so that she could carefully slide the zip down. She tried to close her eyes to avoid seeing Ms. Adams actually watching her take her trousers off, but her chin was still being held lightly and the slightest of pressure was applied to it to get her attention again. She looked up into large, dark pupils.

“Good girl.” Silence. Madeleine looked back at her ass. Then, softly. “Take them down, Ms Lee.”

Moaning, Eleanor undid the button, releasing the pressure of the waistband around her hips, then she felt the sensation of her own fingers inside her waistband moving around her cheeks to slide her pants softly over her buttocks. She paused. Madeleine’s lips were slightly parted, her breath short, but the lidded eyes turned back to her face. “Don’t play with me, Girl, because I promise you, you will regret it.” Achingly, Ellen lowered the fabric further ‘till it came to a natural halt between her thighs, cradling her buttocks, and resting just below the line of her taut silk knickers.

Madeleine released her chin and stroked her cheek, one finger raising Eleanor’s attention again to look at her. She sighed.

“You see? Boys’ trousers and girls’ panties.”

It was a simple statement of fact, though it made Eleanor squirm just by the mentioning of it.

“Oh Eleanor Lee, what a very naughty girl you are.” It was a sigh, all run through with steel.

“Woman.” It was out before Ellen could check it.

“Excuse me?”

Eleanor rolled her eyes and shut them tightly, “Sorry.” She mumbled. In the ensuing pause, she became aware that Ms. Adams was …laughing quietly.

Laughing is worse than seriousness! Of this, Eleanor Lee was quite certain.

Her chin was released altogether as her boss pushed her chair back.

“Let’s just see how grown up you feel when I take you over my knee and smack your bare bottom, shall we? But …that comes later. You have to earn it.”

With that Madeleine Adams picked up her wooden ruler, stood and re-positioned herself formally alongside her employee. A corner of the ruler slid downwards between Eleanor’s cheeks and into the gathered fabric of her pants between her legs.

“Release your thighs.” Eleanor felt the cool wood pressing against her legs to part them and her pants brushing her thighs as they fell pooling around her ankles. Cool air rushed about her newly bared skin, conversely, making her feel all the hotter.

The stereo kicked into a new song.

“Well, she’s all you’d ever want, She’s the kind you’d like to flaunt and take to dinner-”

****************************

The Art of Noise Part 4

The Art of Noise Part2

2010-12-25T13:23:00.000Z

~ The Art of Noise ~

Part2

“Well… that you like to dress like a boy,” She settled on the desk in front of Eleanor, “but… you like to be spanked like a girl.”

Shock wrenched the breath from Eleanor’s lungs. Her face boiled bright red with embarrassment. Ironically, now her body felt sticky and uncomfortable under her deliberately casual clothes. Further, she was feeling extremely irked by how Madeline Adams’s amused scrutiny just compounded the weight of her humiliation. Tongue-tied, all she could do was stare silently over her employer’s right shoulder, her heart thumping.

Madeleine laid the ruler neatly on the desk, long fingers idly straightening it to run parallel along its edge.

“Is this not so?” She looked up politely.

Ellen swallowed roughly because, even though her employer seemed to be gentle in her questioning, she herself had lost the ability to speak altogether. Just breathing was a problem. Madeleine saved her the trouble of answering -

“Ok, forget that for now. So long as you know that… I can do that for you.” She looked directly at her employee, “Okay?”

What the hell does that mean? Eleanor’s brain felt like it might bulge right out of her head, as she tried to understand the enormity of what might have just been said to her.

Madeleine reached forward and brushed the other woman’s cheek lightly. “Though what we both really know is that I should just terminate your contract and be done with you. However -” she leaned away, appraising Eleanor as she spoke, “-I am prepared to offer you a more… artful… choice. If you like.”

“I can do that for you… So long as you know that I can do that for you.”

The words were stuck on a loop inside Eleanor’s head. Shame and adrenalin filled every pore in her body, competing with each other for energy, and threatening to take the very legs out from beneath her.

Ms. Adams expression was direct, but kind. Eleanor found herself staring at her employer’s full soft lips.

“Would you like that, Ms. Lee?”

All Ellen could do was gulp and nod.

“Good.” Madeleine paused for a second, briefly uncertain, but then she looked up, her dark eyes intense and softening. For a moment, there was stillness as they looked at each other, while the music continued to play.

“I just want your extra time - and your KISS!”
Just the hint of a smile touched Madeleine’s expression, fleetingly.

“Well,” she said deliberately, still watching Ellen, “Kiss me, then.”

It was somewhere between a command and an invitation.

Chills flooded through Eleanor, making it really hard to close the distance between them, what with her legs all shaky and her lungs all tight and the other woman still just watching her. Warmth and fragrance began to impact on her senses, luring her forward like a dream, and then, finally, just as she froze a little, her employer took control and Ellen was nearly overwhelmed by the power of her boss’s sudden kiss. She found herself responding eagerly enough though, her lips parting. Between the fierce kisses, she could read both vulnerability and desire in the other woman’s energy. See? I knew I liked working here! She thought irrelevantly.

Madeleine was sweet to the taste, her lips erotic and powerful and Eleanor felt a hand slip through her hair and another stroke her waist. She braced one palm on the desk, trying to gain some ground in the kissing, while the other hesitantly dared to return a few fingertip caresses. For all that, she found that the interplay between them had its own rhythm and, just as surely as it had begun, it slowed and they separated, both flushed and weak

Fingertips pressed her backwards, encouraging her to return to her formal place before the desk - and before her employer.

“Thank you.” Ms. Adams breathed, and her eyes sparkled slightly. She paused, composing herself, before continuing with her offer. Calm and businesslike.

“Now - you may leave here, with your dignity intact, no further punishment necessary. Tomorrow you will come into work - and you will work properly from now on. You will not speak to me unless I speak to you first. You will not follow me about. All future discussions about your progress - or lack of it - will be held with the Personnel Manager, Lindsay Neil. That is choice number one. You understand it?”

Still breathless, Ellen managed, “Er - kissing?”

“There will be no more kissing. Do you understand?”

“I do. I hate it.” Eleanor scuffed the carpet with her Onitsuka sneakers.

Ms. Adams noted this and smoothed her palm on her skirt.

“Next is the complicated choice and there are two parts to it, so listen carefully. Choice two: I will chastise you for all the very good reasons that we have discussed. My ruler will warm that tight seat of your very inappropriate pants as you bend over my desk. Tomorrow you will resume work and the same conditions of your employment will apply. Understood?”

Eleanor swallowed, turned on and terrified to equal degrees. She looked at the ruler on the desk and her buttocks tingled.

“Yes… er, ok,” she managed, shoving her hands into her back pockets and trying not to sulk. “Um... Kissing?”

“No. No kissing. The third choice: you will offer your resignation, which I will accept. And I will punish you exactly as I described to you before, but then I will take you over my knee and give you the bare bottomed spanking which not only do I believe you yearn for, but that - truly - you deserve. You will submit to me in every way that I choose - and this time - there may be kissing…there may be none and there may be more. These are your options.”

By her intensity, Eleanor could see that Madeleine Adams was invested in which choice she made. She cared. It was odd that - but Eleanor Lee was not into making herself unemployed. For Christ’s sake!

“You want me to resign? For what? In return for kissing you?” Her body-language had become a lot more informal, which despite herself, her reflexes corrected at Madeleine’s sharp glance. The action made her already hammering pulse spike in her veins.

“No.”

“Then what - why this difference? Why should I lose my job, my income - I mean come on - you liked kissing me, didn’t you?”

“It’s like I said: you do not know me, Eleanor Lee, and these are the choices I am offering you. That’s all. Take your time and... choose.” With that, Madeleine Adams returned to her side of the desk and sat down, opening a file as she did so. She began to read.

Grunting in frustration, Ellen wandered away from the desk, pacing and thinking. Her mind and body were engaged in a violent debate of their own. She could just walk out and come back into work. Her pay check would go into her bank. Besides - Madeleine would want to see her again, wouldn’t she? Wouldn’t she? That kiss was awesome. But then the memories of her employer, in business mode re-surfaced: cool, focused, ambitious, aloof. She could well imagine being ignored for years to come.

Ok - so that one sucks then. It was tempting though, to forget everything and hide behind her job forever… Who am I kidding? I’ve been longing for this. There was no way that Eleanor was prepared to suffer the torture of getting so close to her prize - so close to maybe even making love with this subtle, apparently outrageous woman, who had filled her dreams for weeks - only to choose to be sent back to work and to lose the connection between them forever. She didn’t like to think about chastisement - every time she did, she nearly fainted. She knew she wanted that. Well, sort of.

Ellen realized that all she really wanted, even if it meant looking for another job, was the last option. She wanted all of it. She wanted more of Madeleine Adams. She looked across at the dark-haired woman and wondered if she really could go through with it, if she could dare to actually say ‘yes.’ Then again, Eleanor Lee was never one to turn down an adventure and she could at least try to get a better bargain for herself. Releasing a breath, she returned to the desk, regaining Madeleine’s attention as she did so, but this time she just kept on walking until she was behind its gleaming surfaces and confronting the seated woman.

“Ok. So… you can have my answer now.” There was just the hint of playfulness in her voice mixed with residual anger, nervousness and - expectation. She heard the stereo start on a new track.

“Want some whisky in your water? Sugar in your tea?"
Ms. Adams looked up at her, her eyes widening in surprise. Eleanor was bending down and carefully pulling the chair round to face her, her hands either side of her employer on its arm rests.

“What’s all these crazy questions they’re askin’ me?”

Madeleine didn’t move away, but held her space and kept eye contact with Eleanor which nearly caused the latter to lose her nerve.

Nearly, but not quite. “But first you must agree to my own single condition.”

“Really?“ Madeleine noted the hands either side of her. “And what would that be?” She looked up at Ellen through long, dark eyelashes.

The track forgotten, Ellen leaned closer and breathed in the perfume of her employer. Her lips brushed a cheek, but did not kiss it. We will be equal in this deal and you can work for your part of it too, Ms. Adams.

“I will take the third option, but - if I do - you must agree to this not being our only time together.” She took a breath. “You will agree that we can see each other at least three times a week for the next six weeks and for at least two whole weekends, which ideally will be spent in bed. That’s my condition: if I am to lose my job, I want to actually get to spend time with you. I do want to know you, Madeleine Adams and I’ll give up my job if it means that I can have that opportunity.”

Her eyes tried to read the dark, brooding ones that all but consumed her, just inches away, but they were still veiled and controlled. She wanted to see Madeleine Adams lose that composure. Desperately. Instead, chills began to form as she realized the magnitude of her impertinence.

“Uh…Do you understand me, Ms. Adams?”

“Mm-mm.” Soft lips brushed hers, but moved out of reach again before she could think to capture them and as the frustrated urge filled her with disappointment, her employer commanded her attention.

“Return to the other side of my desk and bend over it.” Madeleine’s voice was low, and expected only obedience.

Startled, Eleanor stood up, fear rifling through her body as the impact of the other woman’s dark gaze compelled her backwards. “Was that an agreement?” She stumbled, “Uh…?”

She was trembling.

“Now, Ms Lee.” The voice was a degree colder and quiet.

She moved swiftly, her momentary control completely gone, and found herself looking down at the leather inlay once again, still shocked by what she had just negotiated. She felt confused too.

Madeleine Adams moved around the desk towards her - the slender wooden ruler held between her hands.

“Feet as they are. Place your palms on the desk - here,” she indicated with two light taps of the ruler, “and here.”

Eleanor looked at her and then back down at the desk, obeying cautiously. The placing of her hands required her to bend and bend and bend until her butt was pushed out, neatly presented for Goddess-knows-what and she could feel the fabric of her pants stretched tightly across her cheeks. There would be no protection given by these - or the white silk underwear beneath. Eleanor began to regret her craziness. Fool! She’ll probably kill you with that thing!

The desk was cool beneath her and jutted slightly into the tops of her thighs.

“Hold on.” Madeleine was leaning over her, her soft breasts brushing Ellen’s back, her hair drawing across her cheek. “We need this,“ she murmured, close to her stricken employee's ear. Her hand reached over to retrieve the remote control and then Madeleine was gone, Ellen’s back was cold, and she was vulnerable all over again.

Suddenly the music burst through - much louder.

“Mama told me not to come, Mama told me not to come...”

“Oh - you are kidding me -OwOw-OUCH!” Eleanor was halfway up and then all the way back down across the desk, stunned by the ferocious stroke of the ruler she had just received laid right across her ass and completely controlled by a gentle, firm hand compelling her to compliance. All thought of protesting about her employer’s musical taste was instantly wiped from her memory.

“God - GOD!” Damn! This was going to be harder than Eleanor had ever imagined.

****************************

The Art of Noise - Part 3

The Art of Noise - Part One

2010-12-24T17:07:00.000Z

~ The Art of Noise ~

Part 1

“You don’t have to be rich to be my girl, you don’t have to be cool to rule my world - ”

The music filled the shadowy space as Ellen walked shyly towards a large walnut desk placed in front of floor-to-ceiling, green blinds.

“Ain't no particular sign I'm more compatible with -”

She swallowed slightly - nervous and aware that her boss was watching her approach and that everyone else in the office had already gone home. This was being required to report after hours and Ellen was in trouble.

“I just want your extra time -”

She came to a halt before the desk thinking resentfully, “Yeah, well, that’s about it - ‘extra time’ - unpaid overtime more like!”

“ --- and your KISS!”

Strangely, she couldn’t quite look her boss in the eye. A slow blush made its way over the surface of her skin and Ellen hated anything which revealed her emotions in an out-of-control sort of way . Things like blushing. Her superior's capable fingers stroked the stereo’s remote control on the leather surface of her desk and the music was smoothly turned down, though it continued to play in the background.

“Well.”

Ellen winced at the implications in that one word. ‘You are late,’ meaning ‘You kept me waiting.’

“Ma’am.” She cleared her throat. “Ellen - Eleanor - Lee reporting to you, as requested.” She presented herself formally, as custom demanded, though she herself preferred the shortened form of her name.

Her employer breathed the slightest of sighs. She seemed to be thinking.

“How long have you worked for me, Ms. Lee?”

Ellen resented this question, as much as she resented blushing - because they both knew that her questioner already had the answer. It’s in the file in front of you! It was pointless, unless the point was to make her squirm.

“Five weeks, Ma’am.”

Or was it? Unless… She swallowed suddenly - it wouldn’t be pointless if she was about to be fired! Surely not! In panic she looked up as her boss replied,

“Five weeks in which you have - seemingly - examined my every movement; in which you have gone out of your way to ‘bump’ into me on the stairs, in the car lot…. in the … executive …. bathroom - in spite of being perfectly aware that you had no business crossing that particular threshold -”

Ellen opened her mouth to argue, “I -” but was coolly cut off -

“Silence, Ms. Lee.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Having dared to look at Madeleine Adams, she now found that she couldn’t break eye contact at all and that her whole body was hyper-aware of the powerful ease of the woman seated before her. The olive skin which, she imagined, must be warm and fragrant under a white linen shirt, itself framed in the sharp grey lines of Ms. Adams’s executive jacket. Classic style, framing a sensuous woman, who, she estimated, must be just on the right side of middle age. That perfect moment of beauty and power combined.

Ellen wondered if she might faint from the tingling running rife all over her body.

It was true of course. She was drawn to her distant, beautiful employer and she barely understood it herself. So ok, she had tried to be everywhere that Ms. Adams might be, but that was hardly a crime.

“Let me be your fantasy -”

Ellen jumped as the music suddenly intruded into her thoughts, feeling the threat of potential exposure beginning to bead in little pinpricks of perspiration between her shoulder blades.

“And, maybe, you could be mine -”

Now she groaned inwardly…Oh My God… and her gaze hit the carpet in a desperate attempt to hide her burgeoning lust from her far too perceptive employer - who was, she suddenly noticed, still talking.

“…not to mention the 17th tee last weekend…and yet, despite this most dedicated attention, you have not absorbed even the most basic of the regulations that we have in place in this corporation, have you?” Madeleine Adams leaned back in her chair. There was a slim wooden ruler balanced idly between her fingertips.

“I wouldn’t say that! I have been very conscientious about learning the rule -er- values - book!”

For a moment, Ellen allowed indignation to distract her from the new peculiar tortures ignited in her veins by the sight of the ruler. She shifted in her sneakers, becoming uncomfortably aware that they felt like they were sinking into the carpet and probably making big indentations into it. Her heart thumped unpleasantly. Dress code was one of the ‘values’ she had not ‘absorbed’ in the way that she was meant to.   Ok, so she had flouted it, but damn, she didn’t see why - in this day and age - a woman should be forced to wear a skirt. Her tight, low-waist, boot-cut slacks were all the rage in New York and, so this was Boston, but… so? And the sneakers were black Onitsuka Tigers, after all.

“Uh-huh. You have ‘learned’ the rules then, have you? Which means that you have deliberately chosen to ignore them.” The ruler flicked lightly into Madeleine Adams left palm. She was enjoying this.

“Even without embarrassing me and my company this morning - by being overheard gossiping about senior mangers within earshot of our rivals - that wilful arrogance of yours which learns rules and discounts them is enough in itself - alone - to merit your dismissal.”
The ruler clattered onto the desk and Madeleine Adams began to reach for her laptop, making Eleanor Lee react instinctively - like a scalded cat.

“Oh! No - please, Ms. Adams, don’t fire me! What I did was dumb, I know -”

The screen was powering up.

“Dumb, damaging, childish… shall I go on?” Ms. Adams entered a password and pressed return.

“I agree, I know, God. I don’t know what got into me! I like working here so much -” Ellen took a breath.

“No you don’t.” Dark eyes nailed her over the top of the screen, while Ms. Adams continued to type.

“I do - I - well I like being here at any rate.” Ellen could have kicked herself for that one, but she could see that she had her employer’s steady attention so she continued to bluster, “What I mean is that I really, really do not want to be fired, even though I’ve not made a very good impression on you as yet and -”

Madeleine pushed her laptop aside, indicating for Ellen to be quiet. Again she examined the desk, deep in thought.

“Me,” She said. “You wanted to make a good impression on me…” She frowned slightly and leaned back again, “Are you stalking me, Ms. Lee?” Her face was hard and suspicious.

“No! I mean, well.. No-ooo, not really. Um… maybe a bit .” Ellen flustered.

“Let me get this straight… ‘No’ - you were not stalking me? Or was that ‘No’ - maybe you were, after all, just a teeny stalk?   Or was that - ‘No’, actually, that would be a ‘yes’ you have been stalking me? Is that about the sum of it?”

“No.”

It was only a whisper, but the fear that Ms. Adams might tire of talking to her altogether forced Ellen to continue. “You are… I mean - I - am attr--” She swallowed the word that she meant to say and stumbled on, “drawn… to you. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to become a.. a…like a thing, y’know? I think that… I have been trying to get your attention, um... But I seem to have managed that and now you’re going to fire me!”

“Hm.”

“Women, not girls, rule my world, ”

Again, her employer’s expression was unreadable, but she let the song hang in the air between them.

“I said they rule my world.”

“You do not know anything about me, Eleanor Lee. ‘Drawn,’ indeed.” Madeleine shook her head, her dark wavy hair catching light and brushing her shoulders. “However, let us look at what we know about you, shall we?” Long fingers counted each fact in time, as it was spoken, “You saunter in - invariably late. Your dress code is a joke. You gossip, daydream, leave your desk, make personal phone calls and have been noticeably fixated on me.” To save Eleanor’s pride she added, “Noticeable to me, at any rate.”

Ellen felt a sudden rush of joy. She’d been noticed, after all! She suppressed her smile though, paying careful attention to Ms. Adams, who was still ruminating out loud.

“Ok, so you are also reliable in a human caring sort of way, polite to everyone, personable and -” she looked up amused, “usually calm. And then we come to your internet activity.” Madeleine’s dark eyes narrowed and she nailed her suddenly stricken employee with them.

Jolted out of her idyll, Eleanor was outraged, “I can assure you I have never, ever gone online for any other purpose than strictly to do with business!” Her voice was sharp.

Madeleine stood elegantly, smoothing her pencil skirt as she did so. Then she picked up the ruler and walked around the desk, perching herself on its edge before replying.

“Oh, not here.”

She let her words sink in, watching as Eleanor went white in shock, then pink, then scarlet, as realisations dawned in her stumbling brain one after the other. Of course - Athena Corp was an international company with offices in four different continents and she’d been following the boss around - uninvited here in the head office! Of course they had spying technology, if they needed it.

“What a contradiction you are. You have unique tastes, Ms. Lee. In the internet sites you like to visit best.” There was just a hint of sarcasm in Madeleine’s voice.

“They are my business.” She stared her employer down.

“Oh.” Ms Adams voice was surprisingly gentle. “Yes they are. However - they tell me quite a lot about you.” She smiled and shifted closer to Eleanor by sliding sideways along the desk.

Her closeness re-enflamed every part of Eleanor, but her anger won out.

“Yeah, such as?” Go on - I dare you to say it!

The ruler indicated Eleanor’s clothing with an insinuating gesture and then flicked back into Madeleine’s palm.

“Well… that you like to dress like a boy,” she settled on the desk in front of Eleanor, “but… you like to be spanked like a girl.”

**********************************************

The Art of Noise Part2

And now for something completely different -

2010-09-30T17:25:00.000+01:00

a clue to what my new story will be about -

It won't be there for long, so enjoy it while you can. :)

So, look - I don't want you to get the wrong idea - normally my posts will be full of class, it's just this one, while we wait for the story to boil, is full of ---

you get the idea! *vbg*

Persephone

2010-09-25T01:25:00.000+01:00

Persephone.

My muse has abandoned me - this, my farewell, is for her, with love.

There isn’t anything like it, that moment when she walks towards me. Her slim hips, her dark eyes, her cool, cool demeanour. I am a flower and she is my bee.

In the warm afternoon of the library square I watch the swing of her curves and each beat is a breath, a shortening indrawn breath and my pulse is racing and my body is washed with shivers. There are crowds and she works her way through them, though all I can see is her.

I look up and smile, hoping she cannot see that I am all ablaze with the summers’ sun.

“Well?” Does she know her voice is like a drug to me, invading my heart, wiping my brain?

“Hi.” I say, stupidly.

She stares down at me - a slight shake of her auburn head, but her eyes reflect kindness. Humor. The joke is on me, but I don’t care. So long as she loves me. So long as she loves me.

“My girl.” She rolls the ‘r’s ‘It is time.” Then she smiles - a slow lazy smile, and now I am a sparrow and she is my hawk. She will catch me.

My nipples stand erect through my tank top - anyone looking could see how I am hers, how I am, even now in this bright sunlight, bent over, exposed, my petals dripping drawing her sting, my mouth open, gasping. Anyone who would see could see.

I blush. Swallow. I am breathless and I cannot look at her. Fact is, she can see and my apprehension is like a rage seething in my veins.

“Sweetheart. All is prepared, All you have to do is follow me.”

What can I do?

I obey.

*****************************

She has booked a room in a discreet apartment block. Boutique. It is all shades of mushroom with chocolate features: the occasional wall, the bar, the leather sofa, the suede headboard on the queen-size bed. But I see nothing, except the chair. That frickin’ chair.

It is exactly central between the door and the bed.. Antiqued pine. Upright. Basic. And the straps, the leather straps yawning at me from its back legs. Straps for my legs. The chair is turned around, facing the bed. I know there are cuffs waiting open at the top of the front legs. Cuffs for wrists.

I groan inwardly. No sweet, bare bottom warm-up then. Her seated, me in my favourite position over her knee. No soft words, and circular caresses of my eroticised cheeks. My legs turn to lead, my disappointment plummeting my mood into the mushroom rug..

I feel her fingers against my back propelling me forward.

“Sweetheart.” she breathes.

I know the rules. This is her fantasy, her game. It is her turn. If I get it wrong, she might leave.

I make my way across the room to the corner by the nightstand. She has placed a deep pink mohair blanket on the ground to place me where she wants me to be.

I must step onto it. My pussy throbs just at its proximity. She has taken me before on that blanket, grinding my sore buttocks into its static surface.

I slip my shoes and take a step. As expected, the mohair is soft and warm and slightly uncomfortable against my skin. Her pelvis powering against mine, her orgasm a wild cry in my ear and I held her rigid, then relaxing, into my breasts.

I turn to look at her. She is standing next to the chair, long black whip in hand, waiting. The whip gestures minutely. Hurry up.

Panting, I duck my head, unzipping my pants shakily. My breath is ragged, the whip will sting. The whip will sting! Have mercy, the whip will sting!

I strip my jeans off. Folding them neatly as I have been taught to do and place them on the left corner of the blanket. Now I stand. I love you. I love you. My heart throbs.

What does she want of me? Naked? I never know.

Her eyes possess me. I wonder if she is already mentally fucking me. It turns me on so much.

“Take off your shirt.”

I obey. Fold it. Place it. Stand. Look at her. I am flushed. On heat. My panties are sticking to me, wet with arousal. And she is looking.

“Bra.”

Again, weaker now, I place it in the corner, my newly naked breasts sensitised, longing.

She points to the chair, and holds out the small velvet cushion which will protect me from it’s wooden bite. She always thinks of everything, but the irony is not lost on me. Nothing will protect me from her thrashing.

Shakily, the cushion is in my hands and I am placing it on the top rim of the back of the chair, moving my pussy against it, placing each trembling leg against the legs of the chair, and bending over to capture the cushion against my body, my ass tight-lifted, my palms finding the chair seat, waiting for her to strap me in.

She tosses the whip onto the bed and then with elaborate grace, places a black leather strap on the seat of the chair right under my nose.

I groan.

Jesus frickin’ Christ!

I’m not allowed to speak or I would beg. It makes me want to cry. But right now all I can do is pant.

I sense her bending down, then feel the leather cuff curl its way around my left ankle. The buckle creaks as she works it, tightening me to the cold wood. Her face is touching my thigh, which she softly licks, and I shiver, then she is gone. Another rush of juices to shame my gusset. The right strap is tied more roughly. Urgently.

Is she angry? I cannot tell.

With practised efficiency she takes each hand in her warm strong ones and ties them mercilessly to the wicked chair. I gasp out loud, a cry of a trapped animal. My eyes prick with tears.

“Breathe.” .

I try to steady my breath, gulping in the cool air, trembling, trying not to be aware that my ass is presented to satiate the blood lust of a Goddess Queen. I am Iphigenia, sacrificed on the altar of Artemis, just to win her favour.

Ahh love, I only seem to live when you are near me.

She pours herself a drink. Sips it. The glass chinks onto the bar.

She takes off her jacket, rolls up her sleeves and walks towards the bed, towards the whip.

I am longing for it to be over now, to be freed into her arms and into that great big bed, to make love and be loved - and I am terrified that today she will only beat me. And leave me.

Once, seeing my agony of frantic desire, she took a long dildo from her bag, lubricated it and instructed me to pleasure myself with it on my back, thighs spread wide, while she sat on the chair, flushed, and watched. Then without a word, she left the room and didn’t come back.. I cried out, angry, needy - and took myself again, twice more until exhausted I slept, alone, triumphant. When I awoke, she was sitting on the bed, stroking my hair. Did I say I love her? I do, oh God, I do.

“I do love you, you know.”   I can still hear her voice - the only time she ever said it.

******************************************************

So now, she is standing to my left, measuring. She loves this, I know she does. She could tease a cat to death. She could tease anything. And here she is, teasing me. It is heaven and it is hell.

The whip cracks. I jump, but she has hit the bar, not me.

I hear the quietest laugh and then she returns to her calculations by my side.

“It’s like this, “ She says, measuring. “Three. In silence.”

I thank all deities in every pantheon in every era, for my panties.

Before they have a chance to respond, the air is sliced, shrieking, by leather ferociously brought down on my ass.

I can’t help it - I yowl. And jump and struggle.

My mind is filled with obscenities. My bottom feels nearly injured by the strike. I am clenching all my muscles - all of them except my buttock muscles. The wind is knocked from me.

“Breathe.” I don’t think she repeated herself, but I remembered her instruction and focussed on my breath.

When I come to, she is back at the bar, sipping. She waits for me to recover enough, then returns.

And takes my panties down to my knees.

“Oh no!” I can’t help it, I say it out loud, but quickly bite my tongue.

The whip feathers a distance, to just below the first stripe, but when it lands, it lands almost gently - across my thighs. Well, not gently, but it's gentle enough.

What?!!!

The lack of intensity is so unexpected, that somehow, it feels almost worse - and my pussy complains vociferously. Apparently, the heathen thing wanted more. I would like to thrust it out towards her. I don’t. Of all the rules, impertinence, especially implied, is forbidden. The sort of forbidden which turns you out onto the street, not quite dressed, not properly spanked and with fear thudding in your heart. What if I never see you again?

Now the whip is taking stock of my sit spot. Touch. Pause. Touch.. Pause.

I start to panic - what is it to be? How ferocious will this last stripe be? Despite every instruction in every session in all our time together, I begin to bob up and down to try and get away. She takes no notice.

Touch. Pause. Touch ---- CRACK!

It’s stern, but not like the first. It’s hot, spreading pain, spreading desire across my body. I want to spread open wide for her, right now. I bobble a bit, but remain properly presented.

The whip is tossed onto the bed and her palm finds the small of my back. Gently, lovingly, delicately she soothes little circles just above the place where my cheeks meet. It begins sensuously and by the time she has finished I am writhing with desire.

“Hmm.” She sounds pleased and stops.

I think she’ll go and sip her drink, but she doesn’t.

Her fingers appear under my nose taking the handle end of the leather strap and sliding it off the chair.

Oh ! She has only ever used the strap in our most intense sessions, holding it back, even if I wanted it, asked for it. Its black leather is reserved for a different level between us. She always said she didn’t spank in anger, but she did. We both knew she did. She even apologised once, knowing she had pushed us both up against our codes, even more than our personal limits.

The strap. My mind was in turmoil.   Have I done something?   She’d been fine the last time I saw her. I could recall her smiling, her eyes narrowing, promising such hot love making soon. Was she just adding spice to this play? No. No, I knew she hardly needed to do that.

Besides, the strap was the strap was the strap. It slapped menace against her palm. She would never use it just for play .

But then again, I love the strap. It burns in my imagination, wets my desire, insists on bending me in half for beatings that I long for.

Just briefly, I feel her hand stroke my cheeks. She wants to remind me that my bottom is bare. That my skin is smarting from the two earlier streaks. That I am vulnerable. Ohhhh I feel it, Darling.   I know I am to be spanked and I know this is serious. I’m just don’t know why. I flinch nervously.

“This is it.” Is all she says.

She lays the strap across my bottom not lightly. Firmly. She holds it there. I groan inwardly, but do not have time to form any further objections as the strap is lifted high in the arc above her head from which, she once told me, she can minutely gauge that:

Distance +speed = force.

I gulp.

And jump. The first stroke is …perfect.

It stings, oh heaven how my bottom is alive to its touch, but it isn’t bruising.

Another. Then another. All as gorgeous as the first, all laid next to each other. A final two strokes means every part of my cheeks have been visited, have been loudly touched by flames. Spanked by flames that are slappy and stingy.

I have time to consider how marvellous this is - and how unusual. For the strap!

She doesn’t break speed though, her pace is relentless, her placement skilled. Somehow this tempo throbs perfectly within my vulva and I begin to moan and cry loudly for - my need for my frickin’ sexual need.. How many is that?

I am jumping, crying , heated, breathless and she hasn’t broken speed yet. I don’t know how many. She won’t stop.

She is panting slightly from her work and she is fiercely applying herself to each and every slappy stroke. There is no let up, no change in pace, nothing harder, nothing softer.

I am being beaten. Oh my God… beaten to a point of no return.. Jesus - no! I’ve never come like this before, not even in my fantasies. Not bent over a chair!
Somewhere, in the room, I am wailing, I don’t know if it is pain, if it is ecstasy, I am close to coming and for once, I don’t want to - I hold back, yowling louder, pleading now.

“Please - please - please.”

She drops the strap, releases me quickly and helps me, not gently, backwards onto the bed. I think she will be tooled up - ready to fuck me - but no. Again she surprises me. Her body covers mine -

God did I tell you that I love her?

Her lips kiss mine and then she is licking her fingers and kissing my lips and licking her fingers and her tongue is teasing mine and her fingers press up against my clit as her mouth possesses mine. There are tears on her face.

I am lost in this passion, this rhythm, this love. She rides me, sends me, loves me, stroking me with her fingers, kissing my lips, my breasts, my lips, thrusting against me, she takes me, ass burning, orgasm exploding, right over the edge. We hold each other, beyond thought, forever.

Waking, I am alone. The bed is cold.

On the pillow there is a note:

My Darling, I read your blog, the one you think is hidden - and also, the blog of your new playmate. There are no secrets on the ‘net. You know that. I see how you have give to her now what was precious between us. So this is it, this time, is the last time.

Tenth Muse Top

Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day

Love and Spanking

Love Our Lurkers Day 6

Announcing

A little introduction to the Prize... *bg*

...AND THE WINNER IS...

Caption Contest!!!

Just a taste of what is to come.

The Art of Noise - Part 5

The Art of Noise Part 4

The Art of Noise - Part 3

The Art of Noise Part2

The Art of Noise - Part One

And now for something completely different -

Persephone

A little introduction to the Prize... bg