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Home / Stormy Night Publications Newsletter / Blushing for Her Masters by Samantha Madisen – Extended Preview

Blushing for Her Masters by Samantha Madisen – Extended Preview

The room, in all of its magnificently tiled whiteness, was spinning so shortly after that that Jane had no idea what was happening. Her feet left the floor, her clothing shifted on her body, her stomach was suddenly pressed against something, and the floor loomed below her. She felt her undergarments shifting, but by the time she realized that they were being pulled down, and the cool breeze of the room caressed her skin, the next thing had already happened.

She heard a slap, the sound of flesh against flesh, a sound she had only imagined prior to that moment. It seemed as though a small eternity passed as she contemplated the sound, the allure of it.

And then a sharp, painful sting, almost like a bite, cracked across her bare bottom.

It was then that the entire picture was clear to her: she was over Master Hunter’s knee, her bottom was bared, and he was… he was spanking her, right there in front of the doctor.

As the first slap melted away into a slow burn, hot and throbbing, Jane felt the fire in her lady parts ignite. Something was happening down there, and she could do nothing to stop it.

A second slap came cracking through her bottom. It barely had time to burn, before a third and a fourth were issued. The pain was so sharp that it cut through the growing fire in her body, the waves of burning crashing into each other and then being cut abruptly by the punishing spanking. Hot, wet tears built up in her eyes and sprang from them, splashing onto the floor.

Jane reacted suddenly. “Sir! Let me go! This is most… this is most… oh! Please! Oh!” She began to kick, but Master Hunter’s large hand held her firmly in place, and the more she kicked, the more stinging the spanking became. She at last realized that she would have to submit to his firm hand, and quell her protests, if he was to stop. She collapsed on his knees and let the tears fall from her eyes. She was surprised that as she did this, the warm fire in her private places was rekindled, even as Master Hunter delivered several more sharp slaps to her bare bottom.

Scarlet humiliation crept up to her cheeks and burned nearly as much as her bottom. Here she was, in a room alone with not one, but two men, her most private parts bared to them, pressed commandingly to the knee of a stranger, being punished thoroughly for… for what?

At last the rain of spankings ceased, and she felt a hand on her skin, rubbing it gently. It was hot, and sent a thrilling, painful burn through the center of her body.

“At Rothhall Manor, you shall not speak out of turn, or question the motives of your masters,” the low voice of Master Hunter said.

She sobbed lightly. She could feel her lady parts welling up with the liquid of arousal, and the humiliation of that was far greater than the spanking she was suffering.

A slap made her shriek. “Repeat your master’s orders,” Hunter said.

“Oh! I… I…”

Another spanking. She yelped. “Please. Please, no more. Please. I will be good, please…”

“Repeat what your master has told you,” the doctor said gently. “And then we shall proceed with the examination.”

She sniffled. There didn’t seem to be much of a way out of her current predicament. “I… I shall not speak, out of turn…” she sobbed, trying to remember the exact words. “And I shall… not…”

Another sting cut through her skin. “Question the motives of your masters,” Hunter growled.

“Question the motives of my masters,” she said, as quickly as she could. “Please,” she added, her bottom burning terribly.

And yet… she could not deny that the burning was delightful in its own way. She almost desired to kick and make Hunter deliver another stinging slap to her raw skin, as much as she desired to avoid it as well.

Hunter placed a hand on her bottom, and the heat of his body made the sting of her spanking heat up with a bright, almost delightful pain for a moment, before it receded in waves. Jane exhaled roughly as the waves took her up and then down, and made her ache to be touched… well, in the naughtiest of places.

Hunter pushed her by the shoulder to slide onto her feet, and she stood up, attempting, with shaking hands, to right her uniform and her hair.

The doctor smiled. “Now. Remove your clothing and the examination shall begin.”

Jane’s insides twisted. But her bottom burned, and she had a strange desire to do exactly as the doctor said. After all, what choice did she have?

She twisted her trembling arms to unlock the bodice of the uniform. The effort made her perspire; she was unaccustomed to dressing herself until very recently. Heat grew from the back of her neck to her cheeks as she struggled with the effort. She felt tears welling up in her eyes as she failed to grasp the buttons or unclasp them, and disappointment began to refresh itself on the doctor’s face.

She exhaled sharply and hung her head. “I cannot… I am unaccustomed to… removing…” She was unable to speak the final words.

Without saying anything, Hunter rose and stood behind her. A knife of fear, and excitement, moved through her abdomen in anticipation of another punishment. But when Hunter touched her, it was with warm hands at the neck of the bodice, and he began to unhook the clasps with practiced ease. As each hook parted, the slit on her back grew larger, and his hands brushed over her spine in smooth, deliberate strokes, down, down, down to where her undergarments began. His hands caressed the hem of the underthings, and a shiver traveled through her. She hugged the dress to her body and looked at the floor. When Hunter stepped away from her, she felt only the absence of his touch; her skin cried out to feel his fingers again on her back, unhooking, sliding, unhooking again.

She looked up at the doctor, who motioned for her to let the dress fall to the floor. Closing her eyes, she remembered her pennilessness, and released the fabric from her hug. The petticoat rustled as the dress collapsed on the floor.

“I trust you are capable of removing your own undergarments,” Hunter said behind her, after a long silence in which she stood, arms crossed, unsure of what to do.

She chewed on her lip and dropped her arms to push the underpants down. The red-hot heat of humiliation seared through her again as she stood up, with her full nakedness visible not only to one man, but two.

The doctor was appraising her body. His eyes moved over her, and a smile spread across his lips. “Magnificent,” he said, his voice low and thirsty.

Then, as though shaking himself from a reverie, he motioned abruptly to the table. “Mount the table,” he told her. “And the examination will begin.”

Jane hesitated, but only a moment. It was far too late to make any claims on propriety, she realized. And she could not bear another punishment, though the thought of it made her lady parts throb again, sinfully. And lastly, she needed the job.

She climbed onto the table and sat down as though she were seated for dinner. She put her hands in her lap and waited. Once, her sister had told her the scandalous tale of how babies were born, and the way that doctors were required to examine the patients if something seemed wrong with the pregnancy.

The memory flashed through her mind just moments before the doctor frowned slightly at her. “On your hands and knees,” he said, a hint of exasperated confusion in his voice. To Hunter, he mumbled, “My, they may have even overdone it with this one.”

Hunter made a gruff noise.

Trembling, but determined to please her new masters and keep her job, and driven by an even more peculiar force within her body to please her masters in general, Jane clumsily got to her hands and knees on the table.

She looked at the dull metal of the tabletop as the two men began to circle her. They made sounds of approval and exchanged words she did not recognize.

“What a pretty cunny, pink and tight, as though cast from a mold.”

“She has clearly been trained with great caution. Her eyelet looks virgin.”

The doctor made a noise in response to this comment.

The experience was as humiliating as it was confusing. The words cunny, eyelet, bottom, lips, and others were tossed about by the two men, and though Jane had never heard such things discussed she felt certain that she could guess as to what they were, and shame poured over her like molten metal.

Little did she know that far greater humiliation awaited her.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, almost before she had time to realize what had happened. Something—someone—had touched her.

Back there.

It was an involuntary reflex that made her scoot to the end of the table and curl up in a ball. “Sir!” she exclaimed.

The two men did not seem fazed in the least. She heard them behind her saying, “Extraordinary,” in agreement.

“Come now,” the doctor’s voice purred behind her. “Miss Peaton, that is quite enough of your modesty. We realize that we requested a modest temperament, but you are taking it a bit too far. In your position, now.”

Jane whipped her head around. “Doctor,” she said, her voice shaking. “I am… I am sure there has been a very terrible mistake—”

“Miss Peaton. Do you wish to receive another punishment? You are already due for a thorough whipping after this examination, and I daresay I will have to make it several if this continues.”

This was Hunter, and his voice was a low, steady rumble.

Whipping?

The word curiously plucked the tight string in her gut and made her whole body vibrate in the most thrilling, naughty way.

Did he mean to say, though, that she would receive a whipping no matter what happened here?

A whipping?

Jane’s mind returned to a scene she had stumbled upon just after her eighteenth birthday. Her family had been staying at the home of distant relatives while stopping overnight on their travels to London. Late in the night Jane needed to relieve herself, so she had wandered in search of the bathroom, and accidentally pushed open the door of a bedroom, where her cousin was soundly whipping a servant who had been tied to a bedpost.

At first, Jane had jumped backward and begun to run away, but the sight had stirred something inside of her. She had returned to the crack in the door to watch the servant be whipped with a thick leather belt, her skin cracking in wet, sensual slaps as the tanned flesh cut into her own live flesh. Red welts striped her from back to calves, and her white skin had strained against black silk that held her fast to the poster of the bed. Her mouth had been stuffed with a red handkerchief, and so the sound that left her lips was muffled… but it had not been a scream of pain, not entirely, Beneath the yelp in her throat Jane distinctly heard a low, aroused moan, and though she was a virgin and that was the first sexual encounter she had witnessed, she somehow knew that it was a moan of pleasure.

Her own lady parts had throbbed, and she had wanted very much to touch herself there, but she knew it was forbidden.

For nights afterward she had lain awake, writing in discomfort, unable to stop the images from stirring between her legs and making her ache with desire.

Now that same ache was rising inside of her, at the mention of ‘whipping.’ The finality of it, the fact that she seemed destined to receive a whipping no matter what she did, only added to the ache.

Still, she remained as she was, curled up in shame, though more because she felt she should than because she desired to escape her fate.

She was, after all, raised to be a proper young lady.

“Give her the straps,” Hunter said to the doctor. “This is consuming far too much of my time.”

A hand wrapped around her ankle and pulled her leg toward the edge of the table. She peeked behind her and saw the doctor wrapping her leg in one of the leather straps. He pulled it tight, and it closed snugly around her ankle.

He did the same with her other ankle, and when Jane strained against the straps, she found that she was, indeed, completely trapped.

She felt the vibration of the tight string inside of her again, and her gut hummed, her lady parts ached, and her heart rose to her throat. By the time she recovered from the sensation, the doctor had her right hand in the wrist restraint, and then her left.

“Shall I use the hook?” the doctor said.

Jane could move very little now, but she had a small range of motion in her back. She tried to press her knees together and raised her upper back toward the ceiling, as though this position could reduce the area of her that was exposed to the two men.

A hand touched her lower back. It was hot, smooth, but heavily muscled. Hunter. He pressed her lower back firmly. “Arch your back. Assume your position of submission. I grow tired of these games.”

Jane obeyed—for what choice had she really? She stared in front of her as her bottom turned upward and her chest pressed forward, and Hunter pushed gently lower and lower on her back until she was, essentially, on display for them.

“The hook?” the doctor repeated.

Someone put his fingers at that moment her most private hole, the very, very naughty one. Jane made a noise of surprise, and started to move, but the heavy hand held her back in place and pushed her into position.

“I wonder,” the doctor said.

The finger touching the hole in her bottom started to move in circles. Jane’s mouth fell open.

The touch was utterly humiliating, and yet it also felt so good. She could feel her lady parts welling up with moisture.

“Look at how she responds,” the doctor said.

“Mmm,” Hunter growled.

His fingers touched Jane very suddenly in the wet folds of her lady place. Jane was already staring ahead with her jaw open, so she had no expression of shock left to retreat to. Her body, however, shook with pleasure as Hunter’s fingers slipped between the forbidden folds of the part she had never been allowed to touch, and when they brushed over the most aching place of all, the jolt of pure pleasure that rippled through Jane made her cry out.

Now the fire inside of her, the ache and the searing desire to be touched was intensified to such a degree that hot tears were forming in her eyes. She did not realize that she was moving her bottom, pressing backward to try to get the part of her body that so reacted so beneath Hunter’s fingers again.

“Take your measurements first, of course, and then insert the hook. I am most interested to see how she reacts to this sort of discipline.”

The doctor made a noise of approval, and Jane strained to look to the side and see what he was doing as the clatter of tools came from a table to her left.

“What… what are you doing?” Jane said breathlessly, when she failed to see the source of the sounds.

There was a knock at the door. Hunter sighed, and she heard the sound of curtain hooks scraping over a metal rod.

“Sir.” It was the raspy voice of Ryerson. “Mr. Hunter, sir, I know you are not to be disturbed, however, I have a message of great import and a… well, rather a situation. It requires your attention sir, immediately, I assure you.”

“I leave you to complete the examination, Doctor, and to prepare Miss Peaton with the hook so that I may discipline her at once.”

“Of course,” the doctor said.

The door opened and closed, and the tools continued to clatter.

“Doctor,” Jane said. “I am… that is… I need to speak to you as well, I am simply not sure if—”

She was cut off when the doctor’s hand touched her bare bottom. His touch ignited the burn of her spanking, but there was scarcely time to think about that, because quite suddenly and completely unexpectedly, she felt a sensation she had never felt and never expected to feel in her whole life.

It began as a strange and sharp pain that quickly faded and was replaced by a dull ache that pressed outward on all sides of her.

The doctor had inserted something into her… bottom.

The ring of her hole stretched, and stretched, and the burning sting of it gave way to a throbbing ache as whatever he was inserting became thicker as it went further inside.

“Oh!” Jane exclaimed, unable to stop herself.

But that was far from the end.

Something warm began to lick at her insides—in places she had ever felt. The warm feeling began to fill her, to press outward like the object, only much deeper inside of her. She felt fuller and fuller with each passing second. She was frozen in place, unable to believe what was taking place, unable to recognize the sensation or make sense of it.

And all the while, as something filled her bottom, her lady parts ached fervently.

She felt pressure behind her, and movement of the object inserted in her hole; two light taps, and then the sensations stabilized.

She shifted, moving carefully, trying to get a sense of what was inside of her.

The doctor made a noise, and then scribbled something on a paper. “Do you know, Miss Peaton, what size you use?”

Jane’s eyelids were heavy with the peculiar pleasure she was feeling. “Size?” she murmured.

“What size plug you use in your bottom?”

Jane’s eyes flew open and her heart leaped to her throat again. “My… my…?”

Plug? Bottom?

The words together created such a scandalous picture in her mind that the red-hot heat of her shame stained her whole face. But the doctor’s fingers were now moving, traveling from where he was moving the object around, to her lady parts. The humiliation deepened as he slipped his fingers into the wetness of her body and explored the place where all the ache came from.

She closed her eyes and almost purred like a cat as his fingers sent shivers through her. The wave of pleasure that she had so desired was now slowly building, and she felt that she would burst, or crash, or explode. Her breathing was ragged, and it took a moment to realize that she was making squeaking sounds and guttural moans, much like the servant of her cousin, but they were free to escape her mouth.

“I see,” the doctor said.

And then his fingers pinched her in a place that sent such a wave of pleasure through her that at first, she mistook it for pain. She yelled, and he continued to press the part of her body that most ached between his fingers, moving it, letting it dart around like a fish in the sticky wetness of the center of her legs.

The pleasure rose and rose inside of her, making her blind with it, her ears ringing.

Until finally, finally, it seized her completely, and she threw her back upward and yelled loudly as she was overtaken by the fierce climax. Her legs and arms shook, and she nearly fell to the table. Everything between her legs, all her naughtiest parts, throbbed and pulsed and made her shiver with a delicious and dark delight.

And then, she felt a tug, heard the clatter of metal against metal, and the fullness inside her left her body with a swoosh.

She was still shaking, panting, and hanging her head with shame, when she heard a pounding on the door. “Doctor,” Hunter’s voice said through the thick wood.

“One moment,” the doctor said, and Jane’s eyes grew wide as she felt his fingers on the ring around her most intimate hole, prodding her and tickling the sensitive flesh. The aching that had left her with her climax flared, like a candle flame in shifting winds.

She sensed something else, something smaller, entering her again, and then heard light footsteps and the opening and closing of the door amid whispers.

And then nothing. The surgery was encased in silence and Jane was left to ponder what would happen to her next in the thick quiet. She pulled experimentally on her restraints and tried to organize her thoughts and her memories of the past few hours, but only succeeded in making herself feel again like she needed to be touched in her most naughty place. Her thoughts kept returning to her promised whipping, and she wondered if they would leave her in the restraints, immobilized, at the mercy of Hunter and his ice-cold expression.

There was also the chilling allure of this ‘hook’ they had spoken of, and Jane didn’t dare let her imagine run wild thinking about the possibilities of such an item. What could it be? What were the tools and implements he had already used on her? And why did she find herself savoring the prospect of more?

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