Gerard leaned back in the recliner and started the book from where he had left off, in the middle of his favorite part of Justine, where the heroine is introduced, with the utmost rigor, to life in the monastery. It was especially piquant because his own Justine, freshly spanked, waited holding his ashtray, dressed as he liked her best to be dressed--that is, only in her stockings--next to his chair.
He thought of the spanking he had just administered to her: how he had informed her that he did not find her submission adequate that evening and that she would have to pay a severe penalty to teach her to be more serviceable to him; how he had instructed her to fetch his paddle, and to kiss it and give it to him; how he had made her bend over the punishment bench and strapped her to it; how her lovely pink and white bottom had bounded under the paddle as it grew redder and redder.
He looked up from the page of Sade and over at her. He could see the desire in her eyes, as she held the ashtray perfectly still, at the same time involuntarily presenting her pretty little breasts with their pink nipples to his view and, should he wish, for his use.
"I need to spank you more often, I think," he said.
"Yes, sir," said his Justine.