From the Top Shelf - In a Mist, Chapter 18

The story so far:
Chapter 1	Chapter 12
Chapter 2	Chapter 13
Chapter 3	Chapter 14
Chapter 4	Chapter 15
Chapter 5	Chapter 16
Chapter 6	Chapter 17
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11

Our good friend Mr. Lennox is having a fine time in Italy, but alas, his lust gets the better of him -- again!

Chapter 18 - in which Lennox repeats mistakes of the past

As so often happens with girls of such nature, having discovered her own partiality for physical punishment, Rita de Gregorio grew quite demanding in her efforts to satisfy her strange desires. She went out of her way to incur spankings, which Lennox of course was all too willing and eager to supply.

One evening after dinner the girls, escorted by Lennox, decided to have a stroll round the nearby piazza. They stopped at a pavement cafe to enjoy the pleasure of just watching the world go by. Lennox ordered cappuccinos and gelatos for the two girls and a brandy for himself. The meal that evening had been as excellent as ever and he felt in fine spirits. he watched the courting couples promenade around the square, decked out in their summer finery, he gossiped with his two young charges and teased them mercilessly.

Then he noticed that Rita was gazing rather pointedly at the handsome young waiter who had served them and who was now standing in the doorway winking and gesticulating vulgarly at her.

Knowing how shocked Signore de Gregorio would be by his daughter's behaviour, for he was an Italian of the old school when it came to the raising of daughters, Lennox immediately went over and reprimanded the waiter then returned and spoke sharply to Rita.

"Your father is detained in Pisa tonight, as you know, Rita, so I shall have to deal with this disgraceful exhibition of yours as I see fit. I intend to spank you soundly and send you to bed!"

While Carla giggled and gloated over the fate that awaited her sister, Rita looked down at her shoes and blushed helplessly, her embarrassment all the greater because Lennox had spoken quite loudly in Italian and the people at the neighbouring tables had quite clearly overheard. Two middle-aged gentlemen in cream suits were grinning broadly and staring at the red-cheeked discomfited girl.

On the way home Lennox walked behind the two girls, his eyes returning again and again to the erotic undulations of Rita's plumply prominent bottom clad in a long sheath-like black dress.

Carla waited for him at the worn stone steps leading up to the front door. As he stood watching Rita slowly ascend, the front of his trousers tight and constricting as he scrutinised the swaying contours of Rita's behind, detecting beneath the thin summer dress the deep divide between her luscious arse-cheeks, Carla, her eyes gleaming with mischief, stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear: "Be sure you spank her bare bottom very hard tonight, Signore. Rita adores it - she told me so herself! She is madly in love with you! Her play for the waiter was just a ruse to make you punish her!"

"What utter nonsense, Carla!" Lennox chided, pushing her away to hide his confusion. "Any more rubbish like that and you'll be getting your bottom spanked too!"

She gave a snort of derision and scampered up the steps ahead of him.

Out on the streets the air was still oppressively sultry despite the lateness of the hour; but it was refreshingly cool in the dim marbled hallway. He could hear Carla defiantly playing the piano in the drawing room, but of Rita there was no sign. She had already gone up to her room to prepare herself for punishment, as if perversely eager for it to begin.

He was troubled by Carla's brazen disclosure, uneasy that she knew all about her sister's strange proclivities. If it got back to her father then surely he would be for the high jump. Rita clearly had to be taught a lesson she'd never forget,a harsh lesson in discipline that would deter her from ever goading him again.

On the black oaken chest by the umbrella stand there lay a foot-long ebony clothes brush, its broad oval back inlaid with ivory - broad enough for Rita's generously dimensioned bottom. He picked it up and toyed with it, smacking the flat ivory back against the palm of his other hand. It stung like the devil. His heart pounding with anticipatory excitement he began to mount the stairs.

Rita was indeed in her room. She was still fully clothed, seated nervously on a velvet-covered four-legged stool at her dressing table, pretending to brush her long lustrous hair.

As he advanced towards her, the clothes brush concealed behind his back, their eyes met in the dressing table mirror and he saw the look of excited fear in her face. She flinched visibly when he produced the wicked-looking clothes brush. She hadn't bargained for that. She had been expecting him to use his hand, as was his normal practice.

"Get undressed," he said curtly. Without a word Rita stood, unbuttoned the black silk dress that accentuated her full womanly shape, and stepped out of it.

Then she loosened the shoulder straps of her white petticoat and it fell to the floor around her feet.

She stood coyly before him in just a flimsy white lace chemise, matching panties, garter belt, and black silk stockings, her hands modestly endeavouring to conceal the dark hair of her pubic bush, easily discernible through the thin white lace of her panties.

Impatiently he jerked the stool away from the dressing table to give himself space for what he was going to do. The slender legs of the stool creaked audibly as he sat himself down on it.

"Abasso loro mutande - Remove your panties, Rita," he said, his voice hoarse with excitement, "then come and lie across my knee."

He brandished the foot-long clothes brush in the horrified girl's face and added: "Tonight, Rita, I am going to spank you harder than I have ever spanked you before! Your big naughty bottom will be tender and bruised for days to come. Do you understand?"

Rita nodded dumbly, her dark eyes wide with alarm and dismay. She realised with a sickening churning in her stomach that her little attention-seeking prank at the cafe had badly misfired.

Ashen-faced and trembling with terror Rita slipped her panties off and reluctantly lowered herself across Lennox's lap, until her face was hanging down inches away from the fine-wool hand-woven carpet and her plump bare bottom was now the most elevated portion of her anatomy.

He laid the clothes brush on the floor beside him and commenced to spank her slowly and purposefully with his hand, to warm her up and prepare her for the crueler punishment to come. Perhaps it was an error of judgment on his part, although an agreeable pleasure he was loth to forgo, for Rita - true to her nature - soon began to display unmistakable signs of arousal. He could see with his own eyes how wet her vagina was becoming, and her gasps and moans - as well as the way she repeatedly stiffened her body like a taut bowstring - heralded the onset of her first orgasm.

Greedily, amid loud ecstatic cries, Rita climaxed twice more during the course of the hand spanking, but not before her bottom and thighs had been spanked to a colour of dark ruby wine.

Only then did Lennox pick up the heavy clothes brush. Rita squeezed her hot burning bottom cheeks together in consternation when she felt its cold smooth ivory back tap-tapping against her aching flesh.

Tightening his grip on the polished wooden handle he raised the clothes brush above his head and brought it down hard on the squirming spank-stained summit of Rita's right buttock.

She jerked wildly and howled like a cat that had just been trodden on. The clothes brush had certainly left its mark - an oval imprint much darker in hue than the rest of her bottom.

He repeated the process on Rita's left buttock with the same result. She was crying now, in loud sobs that shook her whole body.

"You aren't enjoying this one little bit, are you, Rita?" he tormented her lustfully, as the clothes brush rose and fell with pitiless regularity upon the writhing arse-cheeks of the hysterically sobbing girl. "Naughty young ladies who like having their bottoms smacked usually end up with more than they bargained for!" he added with a wolfish grin.

Ten minutes later when Lennox at last let the clothes brush fall to the carpet, Rita's poor bottom was a swollen mass of ugly dark-blue bruises, her pretty face contorted with pain and awash with tears.

He comforted her as best he could, stroking her head and running his fingers through her hair that hung down in untidy disarray, wet with her crying.

He felt a sudden urge of uncontrollable desire for the girl. The sound of her moans and her quiet weeping was driving him frantic.

Without pausing to think of the consequences Lennox thrust his hand between her thighs and gently but insistently began to manipulate her cunt into a state of renewed arousal.

At that point all reason deserted him. Scooping her up in his arms he carried her to the bed, ordered her to kneel with her darkly bruised bottom stuck up submissively in the air while he tore off his trousers and climbed up behind her.

"Kneel right over, Rita, your forehead touching the bedspread. That's right girl! Now open your legs as wide as you can!" he commanded as he guided his pulsing prick into her dark juicy cleft. The harshness of his voice only aroused her further.

With one almighty thrust he had breached her impeccably nurtured virginity and soon their separate gasps and moans of pleasure fused into one living being as Lennox rode Rita to a memorable climax that left them both spent and exhausted.

Afterwards, while lying cradled in Lennox's arms, Rita described to him how, when she was a young girl covertly ransacking her father's library in search of spicy reading to stir her awakening sexuality she read a passage in The Brothers Karamazov that left a lasting impression on her: a graphic account of peasant girls being soundly whipped by the men who would afterwards claim them as their brides.

"It seems that in Russia, caro Professore, " Rita whispered naughtily in Lennox's ear, " a girl regards being whipped as proof of a man's love for her. I have done nothing but dream of being punished by a man ever since I read that passage.

"So, " she went on, turning over on her tummy and gazing up adoringly into his eyes, "the first time you spanked me over your knee how could I do anything else but fall in love with you?"

So infatuated were they with each other that they had forgotten one fly in the ointment - Carla!

She had silently followed Lennox up the stairs and, peeping through Rita's keyhole, had witnessed the entire shocking proceedings.

With hindsight Lennox realised he had underestimated Carla's talent for mischief-making and tale telling. Who knows, was it a sense of moral rectitude or a case of bitter jealousy that prompted Carla, the very next day, to relate to her outraged father all that she had witnessed the night before - sparing no juicy detail!

Needless to say, Lennox was obliged to leave the town of Lucca in rather a hurry!

You saw it coming, didn't you? Where will Lennox go next? We must wait and see.