Hello Wipsters. This will be last WipitUp for a couple of weeks, due to the festive season. It is also my last excerpt from my current release Bound by Her Promise, which has spent a few days at the top of Amazon’s erotic science fiction best sellers. All I need do now is start writing something new!
There is a baddie in my book. Not quite the black cape, twirling moustache kind of baddie, but he is nameless and known as the constable. He’s responsible for carrying out punishments on the mining colony, unless a husband chooses to do it himself. Unfortuately for Lysa, Blake is not available and she’s been sentenced to a caning for supposedly causing a ‘riot’.
They took her clothes, the men in black garb, and thrust a white shift into her hands. She changed in the corner of the cell, facing the wall so they couldn’t see her properly. It wouldn’t matter soon how hard she hid her nudity, she would be undressed in front of a hoard of onlookers.
The two men escorted her down the tunnel that connected the cell block to the punishment block. Leading the way, the constable, swinging the switch in his hands, whistling to himself.
Lysa heard voices. A hubbub of people chattering quietly amongst themselves. She entered the arena and halted in her tracks as a barrel load of nerves hit her, overwhelming her emotions and turning her into a statue. The place was heaving. All the benches fully occupied by men with more standing by the walls, shoulder to shoulder. Her impending punishment had attracted a considerable crowd.
“Move.” The man behind her nudged her between the shoulder blades and she stumbled forward, forcing her jellified legs to walk.
The chatter of voices ceased. All she could hear were quiet movements as people settled. She had to know if he’d come and she quickly peered around the room, but there was no sign of Blake, nor Jen or Sym or either of their husbands. She spied Millicent, with Oona, perched on a bench with what must be their men. The privilege of seats was afforded to lifers, not Corporate wives, who remained on their knees. How she hated the whole system of inequality.
Millicent smiled at her. Not a smile of greeting, but one of malicious delight. She folded her arms across her chest and whispered something to Oona, who in turn smothered a giggle.
The absence of Blake almost wiped out her resolve to keep her head high and her nerves hidden from view. She stood by the bench, ignoring the straps and stared at her bare feet. She’d vomited in the cell’s toilet before they came for her, unable to keep any food in her belly. Nevertheless, the lack of nourishment didn’t stop her from marching out of her cell, refusing to let them manhandle her.
The constable announced her crime, emphasising the ‘despicable’ assault on Millicent and near ‘riot’ she’d caused in the Green Dome. The exaggerations were greeted with gasps and the volume rose when he decreed her harsh punishment. “Strip her.” He barked at his comrades.
The one with coarse hands took hold of the white fabric, ready to tear it from her, but she pushed him away and picked up the hem. “I’ll do it,” she snapped. She drew the flimsy dress over her head, unveiling her pale skin.
She shook as she climbed onto the bench, determined to keep as much dignity as possible. The cold surface made her flinch and goose bumps shivered across her body. The straps bit into her skin as the men bound her in place. Looking at the contraption was not as terrible as lying on it. She felt more exposed, more stretched out than she thought was possible. She rested her head on one side, looking away from the constable.
“Doctor.” The constable called out.
Lysa gritted her teeth as the medic made much of his duties. He probed and pinched her bottom, deliberately sliding his fingers between her bottom cheeks and pressing her anus. “All’s good,” he pronounced, then attached the heart monitor on her back.
She waited, heart pounding and belly rumbling with nerves. She braced herself for the unction—the dreaded arse heater, as the constable proclaimed its application. About her, the crowd seemed to lean forward, as if they wanted a better view of her reaction to the horrible cream. She hoped it would be no worse than the bleaching agent she applied. He rubbed it into her buttocks using more pressure than necessary and kept circling each cheek with the heel of his palm.
Her eyes widened as he slid a finger into her cleft, just as the doctor had done, and spread the cream about her anus, then down into her slit. She wanted to shout, protest at his unjustifiable actions, but they would only get her more strokes of his switch.
The heat came instantly, nothing like the prickling whitener, it roasted her bottom into a fire. She gasped, struggling not to cry out. She already felt like she’d been spanked, except when Blake did it, he built up the heat and pain gradually, unlike this awful searing in her flesh. How would she cope with the cane?
She fought the instinct to clench her buttocks, knowing it would make it far worse. Her body prickled with sweat as the oppressive heat of the room closed in on her. About the auditorium, the tension was palpable as numerous breaths were held.
Tears welled, she’d fought them back for hours, but now she could no longer keep them at bay. She’d let herself down, but more importantly, she’d let Blake down. This dreadful situation would never had arisen if she hadn’t interfered and insisted on putting right an injustice. Now the Corporation was using her body to perpetuate their prejudices. There was no escape and Blake wasn’t coming to rescue her. Perhaps Harkess had been right—her husband didn’t love her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the constable lift the switch high above his head, poised to strike. Fear flooded her emotions, drowning out all others.
“Oh, help me,” she muttered then squeezed her eyes shut.
So where his he and he promised he’d keep her safe from the constable, sooo….
When twenty-two-year-old Lysa travels to the Outer Rim Colony on Callisto to be a miner’s wife, she isn’t in it for love or even for the fairly generous pay. She undertakes the voyage because the government refuses to let women into technological fields, and the mining colony is her only chance at learning in secret. But upon reaching the colony, it isn’t long before Lysa wonders if she is in way over her head.
Blake, the man she is to marry, brings her almost immediately to the colony doctor for an incredibly thorough, humiliating medical examination. Even more disturbing is the fact that apparently her marriage contract gives Blake the right to discipline her when he feels it necessary, including by means of a bare-bottom spanking.
After Lysa confesses to Blake the real reason she came to the colony, he reluctantly agrees to help her as long as she promises not to neglect her wifely duties. To her surprise, despite her new husband’s less-than-enlightened views on how a misbehaving wife should be dealt with, Lysa soon find herself both enjoying his company and craving his skilled, dominant lovemaking. But when the head of the colony learns that Lysa is illegally studying to be an engineer and that Blake is helping her, will they be forced apart forever?
Publisher’s Note: Held by a Promise is an erotic novel that includes spankings, sexual scenes, medical play, anal play, elements of BDSM, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
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