Friday, October 3, 2014

Worried about the way she felt at her birching #SatSpanks

If there's one thing that makes a Tilton heroine, it's worrying that there's something wrong with her. You could even say that perhaps there's a little reality behind that. . .
What could it mean? Surely this Sir Guy did not mean to hurt her—truly to hurt her, who had never done him wrong? 
Anne thought about the prospect, and the vision that came into her mind’s eye, of her punishment, along with her friend Alianore, by Sister Marie, disquieted her even more than the thought of the pain her betrothed might wish to inflict by, say, slapping her face. The vision of Alianore’s bare bottom, striped by the blows of the birch, delivered for telling one of her naughty stories within earshot of sister Sister Jehana, of the tender cheeks squirming uncontrollably over the punishment block in Sister Marie’s study, while Anne looked on, knowing that she would be next because she had supported Alianore in her misdeed, giggling at the story—troubled Anne even more here and now than it had then, though it had troubled Anne greatly there in Sister Marie’s study.
The vision troubled her, because Anne had felt pleasure, watching her friend beaten. 
Then, even worse, she had felt pleasure while she herself was birched—terrible pleasure that did not leave her when the birching had finished, but seemed to grow all the greater, and to spread to the front of her private places, so that she had to rub her legs together in bed, and to try to squeeze her muscles there to assuage it somehow, until she fell into an unquiet sleep, in which she dreamed of Sister Marie, and of the king and his knights, birching her and Alianore together, and then making them touch themselves upon their private parts while everyone in the kingdom watched. 
In the morning, she had awoken with her hand there, and had pulled it away guiltily but reluctantly, though Sister Marie had told the pupils time and time again that if a girl should touch her private part she would invite the devil to take up residence in her breast.
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12 comments:

  1. " ... it's worrying that there's something wrong with her." A recurring theme in smut and among a few not-so-out-of-the-closet RL "kinksters," yes. (BTW, I never say "kinksters." It sounds goofy to me, YMMV. I prefer the term "perverts," heh.) I've tried to put some of that 'inner turmoil' shit into smut-writing, because apparently a lot, or even MOST, readers relate best to that and want to be reassured or something, in addition to be turned on. But then I realized, wait a sec, I don't actually have that "worry" myself, IRL -- it's long gone, so it's difficult to put myself back into that time, when I DID have the worry that something was wrong with me (at least somewhat) and write that "doubt" convincingly. I dunno. If anything I've turned it all around: I can make a fairly good argument that there's something "wrong" with ... vanilla people. White paper TK. Heh.

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  2. OMG, the devil has been in me a long time. lol.
    Sounds like nuns of old - they created more devilment than they knew.

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  3. Great snippet! It sounds like that she will try getting in to trouble more since it made her feel so good! :-)

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  4. Ah, the devil in residence. Thoughts that haunt us for a lifetime. No wonder we, and our heroines, wonder. Great stuff.

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  5. Interesting that the nuns thought the devil would reside in a woman's breast, I guess because it's closest to her heart. Somehow, I thought he'd want to reside much lower. But then again, that might just be me. Great snippet, Emily.

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  6. I went to kindergarten in Austria and the nuns told me the devil was in me. He was also in several other poor classmates. That devil sure gets around.

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  7. Oh excellent. Restrained, yet sexy.

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  8. I love the way your words dance Emily. Just beautiful :)

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