Date: Sun, 14 Aug 2005 16:50:45 -0700
From: Allan Ross
Subject: Paddled for Pride and Prejudice

PADDLED FOR PRIDE AND PREJUDICE
By Allan Ross

(Apologies to Miss Austen)

     "Enough!  Desist you fiend!" Darcy cried, as Bingley
waged a vigorous assault with his hand upon Darcy's naked
buttocks, now flushed a deep scarlet.  "I beg you, have
mercy!"

     "I would have mercy on you, Darcy," Bingley replied,
punctuating his words with resounding slaps to Darcy's
glowing, cherry-red bottom, "had you not been unaccountably
rude to Miss Elizabeth Bennet earlier tonight."  He stopped
for a moment, rubbing his hand across Darcy's severely
chastised mounds, feeling the heat radiating from the
scorched flesh.  Bingley's own hand stung, but immediate
correction of Darcy's insupportable behavior was required.
"I believe I make my point, do I not?"

     "Yes, yes!  You have made your point most soundly,"
gasped Darcy, shifting and straining across Bingley's lap as
his tormentor's hand moved into the cleft between Darcy's
well-beaten buttocks in order to spread Darcy's thighs
further apart. Suddenly, Bingley renewed his attack,
striking tender flesh hitherto untouched.  "Please, please,
PLEASE!" Darcy entreated, his voice loud and high.  "I
regret my rudeness most profoundly!" he cried, gasping out
the words between the sharp and determined spanks that
Bingley continued to deliver.  "I shall take any instruction
that you give!  Let me know how you wish me to mend my
behavior!"

     "That is better," Bingley said, delivering a final,
powerful swat to Darcy's agonizingly tender bottom.  "You
will ask Miss Elizabeth Bennet to dance at the very next
opportunity.  I believe that will be Tuesday next at Sir
Williams Lucas'.  And if I do not see you and the charming
Miss Bennet dancing together with every indication of
pleasure, you will receive further and more severe
correction upon our return to Netherfield that night."

     Bingley allowed his chastened friend to rise and pull
up his breeches, pretending to ignore Darcy's erect, moist
organ and the large wet spot on his own thigh where Darcy's
manhood had pressed during the chastisement.  In turn, Darcy
tried not to stare at the substantial bulge in Bingley's
crotch revealing the young man's unmistakable arousal.

     "But what if she refuses me?" Darcy asked, starting to
sit down and then, thinking better of it, walking over to
lean against the mantel, his face still flushed and his
composure not fully regained.  "That will not be my fault."

     "How can she refuse if you begin with a sincere apology
for your previous unforgivable breech of good manners?  If
you fail to entice her to dance I shall know you did not
approach her with genuine remorse.  And that will mean
another episode across my lap, and I shall not be as gentle
next time!" Bingley promised, with an unabashed grin.  "I
shall make my displeasure known most firmly."

     "Gentle!  How can this have been gentle?  It is the
severest you have yet administered.  I doubt I shall be able
to ride tomorrow."  Darcy ruefully rubbed the seat of his
breeches. "Where is the good natured young gentleman who
sought my acquaintance not so long ago?"

     "He is right here, my good Darcy," Bingley replied,
rising from the chair and joining his friend near the fire.
"And he hasonly the improvement of your disposition and
manners as his utmost desire."

     Bingley pulled Darcy close by putting an arm about
Darcy's shoulders and gently drawing him into an embrace.
The two young men held each other for a moment, Darcy's dark
hair a contrast to Bingley's gold curls, glinting from the
trembling flames of the fire.

     "Now I must to bed," Bingley said, releasing Darcy, but
not before giving Darcy's bottom a gentle swat.  "We shall
ride in to Meryton tomorrow, I think"

     Later that night Darcy tossed and turned restlessly in
his bed, trying to find a comfortable position for sleep,
his stinging and still tender bottom reminding him of his
spanking and keeping him in a state of tormented arousal.
He knew Bingley would take delight on the morrow when Darcy
attempted to ride as if his buttocks were not
extraordinarily sensitive to every contact with the saddle.

     His thoughts turned to the first time Bingley had
spanked him and the sensations of surprise, shock and
pleasurable excitement that the occasion had engendered.
Bingley had come to Pemberly from town at Darcy's
invitation.  Darcy recalled being somewhat bemused when the
good natured and gregarious Bingley had indicated such a
clear desire to know Darcy better and to be in his company.
Darcy was aware of his reputation for reserve, though he was
credited with a sharp wit, and he also knew his large
fortune made his acquaintance desirable to both men and
women.  But Bingley had his own money, though nothing to
Darcy's, so his pleasure in Darcy's company seemed genuine
and unaffected by Darcy's reputation.  Certainly, Bingley's
unmarried sister made her interest clear, though Darcy felt
no answering warmth for the persistent and transparent Miss
Bingley.

     After a day of riding and shooting at Pemberly, the two
young men had been relaxing in Darcy's dressing room
enjoying some brandy and arguing companionably about the
shooting.  Bingley had been forced to admit that Darcy was
the superior at every sport the two had so far engaged in
together, but then had suggested that he could not be
bettered at wrestling.  Darcy could not exactly remember how
it had happened that he and Bingley had ended up wrestling
on the floor, laughing and scuffling with each other, only
to find himself pinned face down with Bingley sitting on top
of him.  Darcy had made some joke about it not being
surprising that someone so recently a gentleman would be
superior at a brutal sport like wrestling, and Bingley had
pretended to be insulted, promised to improve Darcy's
understanding of brutality, and proceeded to administer a
hearty spanking to the seat of Darcy's breeches.

     That first episode had somehow awarded Bingley the
power to administer subsequent spankings to Darcy, always on
some pretext of misbehavior on Darcy's part deserving of
correction.  Lately, Bingley had begun pulling down Darcy's
breeches in order to spank his friend's bare buttocks.
Darcy wondered why he had not resisted with a stronger will
instead of offering only a weak verbal protest.  It was as
if he were somehow bespelled by Bingley, submitting almost
eagerly to the unexpected authority of the publicly less
imposing Bingley.  Both men were careful to ignore the clear
indications that each was experiencing sexual stimulation as
well during the spankings.

     As he recalled these incidents, Darcy touched himself,
giving his rigid member the lightest of strokes, and that
was all that was necessary to cause a powerful release,
shuddery and consuming, leaving him spent and sticky.  At
least he had not yet embarrassed himself across Bingley's
lap, though it had been a near thing earlier when Bingley's
fingers had brushed Darcy's testis as he pushed Darcy's
thighs further apart to expose more flesh to the stinging
slaps of his hand.  Darcy felt himself stiffen again as he
recalled that casual caress to his most private region.

     At Sir William Lucas' a few days later, Darcy observed
Elizabeth Bennet more closely, while Bingley flattered the
lovely Jane Bennet with his attentions.  Elisabeth and Jane
were clearly the most tolerable of the Bennet daughters,
with Jane`s calm beauty inspiring the most talentless
observer to attempt the painter's art.  Elisabeth, on the
other hand, was much livelier, if not as conventionally fine
of feature.  Currently she was conversing with her friend
Charlotte Lucas, allowing Darcy to admire her charming
manner.  Ever so often she would seem aware of his regard,
and she would appear flustered for a moment only to renew
her conversation with Ms. Lucas with greater intensity.

     The brush of Bingley's hand across Darcy's bottom
startled him from his abstraction, and his friend whispered,
delighting in the threat,

     "This will be aflame tonight if you remain standing
here, my friend.  Remember your duty!"

     Darcy struggled to regain his composure, glancing at
Bingley who was already returning to the side of the eldest
Miss Bennet.  Darcy advanced toward Elizabeth and Miss Lucas
in order to engage the sprightly tongued Miss Bennet in
conversation, which might lead to a dance later, as he was
sure the irrepressibly vulgar younger Bennet sisters would
encourage the soldiers present to demand dancing as
entertainment suitable for the evening.  Darcy felt he
should avoid being across Bingley's lap again so soon after
the recent session, as he feared what he might reveal if he
lost control during the heady mix of pain and pleasure that
Bingley's boisterous discipline inflicted.

     However, Elizabeth Bennet evidently remembered with not
a little displeasure Darcy's slight at the ball where
Bingley first drew his attention to the two older Bennet
sisters, for she refused every suggestion of a dance with
Darcy, despite even Sir Williams' bumbling efforts to
accomplish that end.  Darcy could not deceive himself that
Bingley was ignorant of Darcy's failure to engage Elizabeth
in a dance, even though Bingley's attention seemed solely
focused on Jane Bennet.  A wink from Bingley as the evening
waned confirmed Darcy's fear, and he felt a sudden emptiness
in his stomach that was either dread or anticipation or a
combination of both.

     Later that evening, Darcy found himself once again
across Bingley's lap with his breeches down about his ankles
and his naked buttocks exposed to Bingley's stinging
ministrations.  Embarrassingly, he had grown stiff even
before his young friend had lowered his breeches and pulled
him down to begin the promised chastisement.  Darcy's erect
member was pressed against Bingley's thigh, and he tried not
to shift or move in response to the sharp slaps of Bingley's
hard hand since the rubbing of his erect organ against the
material of his tormentor's breeches was proving an
exquisitely exciting sensation.

     "Please, Bingley, I did my utmost to convince Miss
Bennet to dance," Darcy exclaimed, attempting to speak
coherently amid the turmoil of feelings engendered by the
vigorous application of Bingley's hand to his increasingly
sensitive buttocks, occasionally interrupted by the rubbing
of that same hand over the punished and tender flesh.

    "You must desist, I beg you!" Darcy cried, again.  "I
cannot, cannot . . ."

     "What can you not, my naughty lad?" Bingley responded,
continuing to soundly spank his older friend with great,
hearty slaps upon Darcy's clenched and quivering buttocks.
"You knew this would result if you failed in the charge I
expressly laid upon you."  Then, clearly desiring to enter
into the dimension of pleasure both had hitherto pretended
to ignore, Bingley reached with his free hand over and under
his prone friend to seize Darcy's rigid organ, alternately
tightening and relaxing his grasp on Darcy's leaking rod
while taking advantage of Darcy's involuntary spreading of
his legs to sharply spank the tender flesh newly exposed.

     "Oh! You mustn't, you mustn't . . .," Darcy pleaded,
incapable of denying himself any longer.  With a great cry,
Darcy found release, his warm, milky fluid flooding out in
great spurts, covering Bingley's grasping hand, sleeve and
breeches.  Eventually, Darcy was spent, his body draped
across Bingley in complete submission as Bingley gently
rubbed Darcy's hot, flushed bottom.

     Though reluctant to rise and meet Bingley's eye, Darcy
lifted himself off of Bingley's lap into a kneeling
position, blushing anew as his gaze took in the large, moist
splotches on Bingley's thigh and the sleeve of his shirt as
well as the glistening remnants of Darcy's pleasure coating
his sweet tormentor's hand.  The enormous erection clearly
outlined against the fabric covering Bingley's crotch could
not be missed either. Bingley began to unfasten his breeches
and shortly his rigid member was released from its
imprisoning cloth and stood tall and moist at the tip inches
from Darcy's face.

     "This piece of hard wood could use a French polish,
don't you think, Darcy?" Bingley asked, grinning widely as
he caught Darcy's eye.  Whatever else he had planned to say
was converted into gasps and moans of pleasure as Darcy
demonstrated his knowledge of that particular avenue of
gratification afforded by the enthusiastic application of
lips and mouth to the male instrument of generation.  Darcy
had been schooled by his friend Colonel Fitzwilliam in a
number of diverting ways.

     Later, much later, as the two men rested, Bingley
remarked,

     "I have decided what will be best, my good Darcy.  I
shall marry Jane Bennet and you shall marry Elizabeth.  Then
you shall never be too far away nor absent too long from my
side not to benefit from any necessary corrective
instruction!"

     And that is exactly what happened, though the road to
its realization provided more than a few bumps.

     THE END