From the Top Shelf - The Legend of Sophia the Fair, part 3

Today we have the conclusion to "The Legend of Sophia the Fair", from Rollin Hand's The Romance of Spanking Vol. 2. You may wish to reread part 1 and part 2 first, in which Sir Hugh is sitting in a pub, recounting his knowledge of the legendary Sophia the Fair to a scholar. Now his tale is ended.

The scholar took his leave.

Hugh returned to the keep to seek out his wife. He found her in the study. “I see my daughters are taking their lessons more seriously now.” All were seated at desks scribbling away, occasionally squirming uncomfortably while Catherine supervised, tapping a switch in her hand.

“Quite so, husband. But I had to correct them earlier.”

“Why didn’t you send for a whipping girl?” said Sir Hugh with a wry chuckle.

She abruptly spun around to face him. “We’ll do no such thing and you know it. Our daughters always bear the consequences of folly on their own. So no whipping girl.” She leaned in and whispered, “After all, you already have one.” She smiled mischievously. “And, she needs your attention.”

She did indeed. He took her by the hand and they ascended to her bedchamber. Sir Hugh watched as his wife divested herself of her clothing. When she was stark naked, she gave a little pirouette and said, with a coquettish smile, “Now you, sir knight.”

Good God, she was gorgeous. Hugh needed no prompting. He made it to his underclothing then sat on the bed, drawing Lady Catherine between his legs. “Now what is this about the whipping girl?” he said. “Something about her needing my attention?”

“Oh sir, please don’t spank me. I’ve been ever so good.” But she giggled as she said it.

“Over my knee, girl. It’s time you had your bottom well warmed,” said Sir Hugh, grabbing her by the waist and depositing her face down across his left knee. She gasped and protested the rude treatment as Hugh arranged her, bottoms up.

“Oh! Let me go,” she said, wriggling and squirming.

Hugh doubted that she really wanted that. He ran his hand across the resilient hemispheres, testing their pliability. The wobbly cheeks rippled as he patted them possessively. Then he raised his arm and brought his hand down with a loud smack!

“Ow! You awful brute!” she exclaimed, throwing her head back.

Hugh was undeterred. He let loose with a flurry of sharp smacks that echoed off the chamber walls. Alternating between cheeks of her bottom, and occasionally spanning the sinuous divide, he rained down smack after smack on the lady’s fast-reddening bottom.

“Oooh! Ow! Oh!” she yelped as the brisk spanks continued to fall. She kicked her legs, drumming her toes on the hard floor.

The spanking was, as spankings go, rather thorough. Hugh paddled his wife’s shapely bottom for several minutes before slowing down to pat and rub sensuously. Toward the end it seemed as though she lifted her bottom in time to meet his descending palm, then ground her pelvis against his knee. She writhed across his knee, cat-like as his fingers found her sex, wet with feminine dew, and moaned as he inserted his fingers.

“Oh, Hugh, oh. Please,” she said, humping up and down as his fingers slid in and out, “take me.”

Hugh needed no further urging. He stood her up and together they tumbled into the bed. Hugh liberated his stiff prick and plunged into her. She moaned with pleasure as he began to stroke in and out, beads of sweat appearing on the brows of both of them as they raced for culmination of their passion.

When she had quite worn him out, and passions spent, they lay side by side, gazing into each other’s eyes.

As always, Hugh was struck by her beauty. Even now, after all this time. The hair was whiter, the figure a bit more stout, but still voluptuous and beautiful. But it was mainly those eyes, those deep blue eyes.

A man could get lost in those eyes.

Do you remember reading that final line in part 1?