Story No.2. You are not required to have read the previous
story (tho' if you haven't, shame on you; go stand in the
corner) and indeed you'll be no more clued up for this one
if you have. The stories in this series are separate and
not required to be read together. Pick 'n mix fiction.
Sort of warning: the spanking in this story is not of a gentle variety.
At the last stroke this story will be 500 words, precisely.
Images In a Fractured Mirror II
"How could you!"
"I'm sorry," Karen muttered sullenly.
Jennifer was livid: furious at the damage to yet another of her treasured possessions and mad at her lover's lack of grace in apologising. She grabbed Karen by the scruff of the neck and forced her to look at the mirror; the beautiful polished ebony hand mirror, its frame inset with delicate silver chasing, with a great crack running across the glass.
"I asked you not to touch it, but oh no, you have to take it and leave it lying around. It would have served you right if you'd got a glass splinter in your arse when you sat on it. Well I've got something else for your arse, you little madam."
Jennifer grabbed the matching hairbrush from the dressing table and shoved Karen hard towards the bed. As Karen stumbled off balance Jennifer pulled her over her lap.
"You've had this coming a long time and now you're going to get a lesson you won't forget in a hurry. I'll teach you to respect my things, lady."
As Karen struggled in the grip of her flatmate, Jennifer was aleady tugging down her jeans. Karen's vicious kicking became restrained by the thick rumple of jeans at her ankles but her fight to free herself redoubled as Jennifer tore at her knickers ripping the flimsy fabric down.
"Now see how you like this," hissed Jennifer, bringing the heavy ebony hairbrush down on the pale flesh across her lap with all the force she could muster. Karen's fleshy buttock distorted under the force of the blow, the soft mound flattening and swelling outwards. Karen screamed at the stroke, and again as Jennifer repeated it on the other side. Two violent red ovals were imprinted on her, overlaid with with the inlay pattern twisting in highlights across the livid
patches. Karen bucked and screamed in the iron grip of her flatmate as Jennifer delivered two more hard, calculating blows to the undercurves, each jolting Karen forward with their force.
Karen's screams and sobs did nothing to soften Jennifer's anger: another four hard strokes slapped home. In between sobs the promises poured out of Karen, but Jennifer was deaf to her cries. She paused only for a deft change of grip to pull Karen's T-shirt over her head, followed by unsnapping her bra.
"I don't want to hear any more empty promises, I just want to hear you cry"
Another half a dozen blows rained down on the bruised and puffy flesh. "Get the message, lady?"
An unaccustomed thrill seeped through Jennifer as she held Karen, naked and crying, on her lap. She put down the hairbrush and pinched and twisted Karen's nipples. "How does it feel to have a little suffering in your spoiled little life?"
Her pinching and prodding travelled lower. "God, you're a wet little trollop, aren't you?"
She picked up the hairbrush again, inflamed at the screams and cries. "This is just the beginning, lady...this is just the beginning..."
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