This favourite from the library of Murray Roberts features a rare spanking from a US ‘hard-boiled’ crime writer.
Lorraine goads our hero into giving her a good spanking
over her thin, figure hugging pyjamas. They discuss the matter a week later in an interesting post-event coda. The book was published in 1952.
Mocking me. Always mocking me. I jumped up. I needed both hands free for what I wanted to do. At the other end of the sofa was a table and there I put my glass down. When I turned to her, she said, “You may kiss me.”
I had been about to anyway, by force, but now she was waiting with her heart-shaped face turned up. I put my hands on her shoulders and kissed her. Her mouth felt as soft as it looked. Then her arms went around me and I wasn’t peeved any more. Every thing was all right, it was fine, and my hands slid on the silk covering her back.
Her mouth trailed past the corner of my mouth and up to my cheek, and all of a sudden she bit me. Her teeth clamped on the fleshy part of my nose and dug in. I rid to shove her away. I couldn’t break the rip of those sharp teeth. I grabbed her shoulders and squeezed. She writhed, her body against mine, her breasts pressing against me through the silk. I squeezed her shoulders harder, hurting her as much as her teeth were hurting me. She yelled then with pain, and she lost her grip, and I shoved her away from me.
I stood rubbing my nose. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” I said. “you crazy?”
Lorraine was laughing as if this was the funniest thing that had ever happened. then she said, “I was trying to straighten your nose out for you,” and turned her back to me and picked up her glass.
How much could a man take? She admitted scheming to get me up here to her apartment and she was wearing nothing under the thin pyjamas. She steamed me up by unbuttoning my shirt and letting me caress her, but it was only to make fun of me. She told me to kiss her, but it was only so she could get her teeth on my nose and bite it and then made a nasty crack about it. A teaser. Did she think she was so good looking and so rich she could keep making fun of me? I knew what she needed.
I jumped at her. Her back was still turned to me. She was no lightweight, but neither was I, and I lifted her clean off her feet. The glass fell out of her hand. She tore at my hair as I carried her to the sofa.
Holding on to her, I dropped down on the sofa. She kept battling. I pulled her arm up behind her back towards her shoulder blades. She yelped and I said, “Lay still, then,” and the fight went out of her, but only for a moment. Her thrashing started again when I pulled her across my knees. a little more pressure on her arm quietened her. She twisted her head around and to my surprise the sparkle was still in her dark eyes as she looked up at me. She thought I was one big joke, but she wouldn’t think so for long.
“What do you imagine you’re going to do?” she said, her voice taunting.
I said, “Give you what you’ve been asking for” and I brought my open hand down hard on her deeply curved flesh over which her pyjamas trousers now stretched tightly.
Her scream sounded as if she couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Her legs kicked out.
“Don’t you dare!” she screamed.
I let her have another one. In it was everything she’d built up inside me. It sounded like a pistol shot and she bucked under my palm, her legs jerking out like they were pulled on strings. The silk was like nothing, like it had melted away, the ful spread of my hand going into the soft deep flesh. It must have hurt plenty because my palm stung.
“Three…four…five” I heard myself counting out each one aloud, but she couldn’t hear me because she was howling, and across my knees she heaved and writhed, and she clawed at me with her free hand.
“Six…seven.” The embroidered dragon on her back was doing a dance like it was alive.
“Eight,” I said, and I was finished with her. I dumped her off me by standing up, and she hit the floor like a sack of flour. She rolled over on her side and stayed there on the floor, sobbing as she rubbed her stinging flesh.
I buttoned my shirt. My nose felt on fire and the palm of my hand tingled.
“You filthy ape!” she gasped. “Get out.”
“I’m on my way,” I said. I pulled my jacked off the chair. Carrying it over my arm. I started out.
“You ugly monster! she flung after me. “You and your crooked nose. I’m sorry I didn’t bite it off.”
I didn’t look back. In the outside hall, I put on my jacket and tied my necktie. It was very quiet up there on the pent-house floor. I wiped sweat from my hands and face with my pocket handkerchief and pressed the elevator button.
“I said your nose made you look virile.”
“To you it means the same thing. But in your penthouse I didn’t play the monster. Me, I was brought up to act refined with classy dames. What I don’t understand is why you got sore when I gave you a spanking if your game was to make me bat you around.”
“You walked out.”
“So if I’d stayed, there would’ve been love and kisses. is that it?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “It was humiliating being spanked like a naughty child. You were so cold and deliberate about it, and then you simply dumped me off and left. Do you know, I had welts for days?”
She raked her finger-nails across my skin and laughed when I let out a yelp. I took my hand from her hip and slapped her where a week ago I’d raised the welts.
“Now you’re acting in character,” she said happily. “And that spanking last week was in character, too. After a while it seemed quite exciting. No other man would have dared.