The Portrait, Throne

The Portrait

Lucy had decided on having a portrait painted almost from the moment she had come into her inheritance. She was the youngest to inherit the title in over three hundred years, and with the title had come the properties – a townhouse on Montpelier Square just off the Brompton Road and a more substantial house in the Suffolk countryside. There had also been a substantial financial legacy, so at the age of twenty-six Lady Lucinda Westfield was a very rich young woman indeed. As such it seemed fitting that her portrait should grace the great hall at Westfield park alongside those of her ancestors and so she had begun the search for the right artist.
Money was not a problem so Lucy could afford to be choosy; which was fortunate since there was a strong streak of perfectionism within her character. For Lucy only the best would be good enough and it didn’t take her long to discover who the best was. In her humble opinion the only man up to painting Lady Lucinda’s portrait was a young artist by the name of Rob Morton. Morton was an up and coming star in the art world. Not much older than Lucy herself he was already starting to make a name for himself. Lucy had contacted him herself and he had (albeit reluctantly) agreed to come to the house at Montpelier Square to talk about the proposed commission.
Lucy heard a car pull up outside and glanced out of the window. A rather scruffy fair-haired young man was extricating his long body from behind the wheel of a tiny little Fiat. Lucy smiled to herself, he certainly had the look of an artist with his unkempt hair and untidy clothes. She went down to the door to let him in.
He was just about to ring the bell, so was rather taken aback when the door opened suddenly before he had the chance to place his finger on the bell push.
Lucy thrust out her hand ‘How do you do? Lucinda Westfield.’
He recovered his composure quickly. ‘Hi, Rob Morton.’ He shook her hand briefly, as though shaking hands was something he was unaccustomed to doing, then followed her through into the house – his eyes taking in the quiet wealth displayed all around him. Lucy led him through into the drawing-room.
They both sat and there was a moment of awkward silence before Lucy spoke.
‘Well, welcome.’ She said brightly ‘I’m pleased you could come, this really is so important to me.’ Her smile was met by what felt like a rather hostile stare. Lucy pressed on.
‘You see, I’m the youngest Lady Westfield for a very long time, so it seemed rather important to me that I mark that fact by having a portrait done. A rather younger face to hung amongst all the old crusty ones in the great hall at Westfield Park.’
‘Oh, so you have another house do you?’
‘Why yes of course, this is just where I stay when I’m up in town. I assumed it would be more convenient for you if we met here?’
He grunted his agreement.
‘Well Rob, what I had in mind was a classical style of portrait – perhaps something similar to that one of Cherie Blair that was displayed at the Barbican a few weeks ago… perhaps with me…’ she was about to go gushing on when he stopped her with an abrupt question.
‘Go to a private school did you?’
She was a little disconcerted but answered him anyway. ‘Well yes, yes I did, Cheltenham ladies college actually.’
‘Thought as much. And you’ve never been short of anything in your life have you?’
‘I guess I have been very fortunate.’
‘Huhh.’ He sounded almost angry.
‘Is there a problem?’
‘Yeah… I don’t think you’ll be willing to pay my fee.’
Lucy gave a little laugh ‘You needn’t have any worries about that…’
He stopped her short again. ‘I’m not talking about money.’
Lucy felt his eyes on her. My God he wanted to sleep with her! She almost laughed aloud. Well he certainly wasn’t unattractive he might be quite fun!
‘No?’ she said trying to sound innocent ‘What had you in mind?’
He gave her that long appraising look again. Her waited for a moment before speaking. ‘If you really want me to paint your portrait then the price is this. You will agree to be treated and punished like a naughty schoolgirl.’
Lucy felt her heart race… surely he wasn’t suggesting..?!
‘What do you mean exactly? Are you going to set me lines or something…?’ She deliberately tried to keep her tone light.
He gave a low chuckle. ‘Lines of a sort.’ He said ‘Red ones on your bottom after I’ve caned you.’
Her look of horror must have been very clear on her face for he laughed again.
‘Told you you wouldn’t be willing to pay my fee. You little rich girls think money can buy anything – but when something is really going to cost you then you bottle out… just as I thought.’ He looked at her contemptuously. He started to get up.
‘No, no wait.’ Lucy said quickly ‘Just give me a moment to think.’
She could feel her heart beating so quickly such was the shock his words had produced. What he was suggesting was outrageous, no-one had ever laid a finger on her, and the thought of having to bend over to be caned… she gave a little shiver. And yet, and yet her pride wouldn’t let her be defeated so easily. He thought he had called her bluff, thought he had named a price quite beyond her reach. But she was made of sterner stuff.
‘Ok’ she said after a moment ‘What’s your exact fee? What is it that I have to submit to get you to paint my portrait?’
He gave a sly smile. ‘You really want to know?’
She nodded her head.
‘Ok then, my terms are these. There will be three sittings. You will pay for each sitting. The first time you will spend ten minutes over my knee getting a good old-fashioned spanking on your bare bottom. The second time will be a ten minute slippering and the final time will be a spanking followed by twelve strokes of the cane. Oh and to prove that you’re not wasting my time you’ll pay for this afternoon’s consultation with five minutes over my knee.’
Lucy thought for a moment. How much did she really want this portrait done? Was it worth the pain he was suggesting? Even more importantly was it worth the embarrassment? Part of her wanted just to forget the whole idea, abandon having her portrait done, or at least find a different artist. But another, stronger voice urged her not to be such a coward. That she would always regret it if her courage failed her now. And after all generations of schoolboys and girls had gone through exactly the same sort of things as he was suggesting without it killing them. She would have to grin and bear it just as they must have done.
She looked up at him and met his eyes. ‘Very well then I agree.’
‘You’ll pay the fee?’ He looked mildly surprised but pleased as well.
Lucy nodded ‘Yes I’ll pay exactly what you have proposed. But I want to talk about what I want first.’
He smiled for the first time and pulled a notebook from his pocket. ‘Well you’ve got more spirit than I had reckoned with Lady Lucinda…. so you had better tell me what you had in mind.’
For the next twenty minutes they talked, Lucy describing her concept and Rob questioning her and making suggestions of his own. He scribbled a few final notes then closed his book.
‘Anything else you want to add?’
‘No I think that’s about it.’
He put the book back in his pocket. ‘Payment time then.’ he said simply.
Lucy felt herself flush. ‘What do you want me to do?’ anxious all of a sudden.
‘Stand up.’ He said quietly but firmly.
Lucy stood, feeling her legs tremble as she did so.
‘Come here.’
She stepped over and stood at the side of his chair. She balled her hands into fists to try to hide the shaking.
‘Lift the skirt of your dress.’
She hesitated for a moment and then reached back to lift the hem of her skirt, she pulled it up, bunching the material into her hands.
‘Now over my knee.’
Awkwardly she bent forward. He took her arm and guided her across his lap. She reached forward to steady herself with her hands on the floor. It was a very strange position to be in, face down across a man’s lap. She imagined she made a very incongruous site with her skirt up around her waist and her knickers and stockings on full display.
‘Stockings… very nice.’ He remarked.
‘Thank-you sir.’ She said half-mockingly.
‘And “Sir”, I like that too, we’ll stick with that in future. And the stockings too…you’re to wear them every time’
Lucy groaned inwardly.
She felt his fingers go to the waistband of her knickers. She tensed. Slowly he started to ease them down, so slowly in fact it was very teasing. Despite herself Lucy began to feel the beginnings of sexual excitement. ‘Stop it’ she told herself – that was the last thing she wanted to be showing right now. He pulled her knickers all the way down to her knees and now Lucy could feel the air cool on the warm skin of her bottom.
She gave a little shiver as he ran his large hand over the curve of her cheeks. She wriggled a little under his touch. She had always liked having her bottom caressed, had always found it a turn on and so now she desperately tried to think of anything but that sensation. Think of something boring she told herself – football on the television, tax returns, accountants… her mind raced desperately as he continued to stroke her bottom.
Then suddenly all thoughts were driven from her mind as he lifted his hand and brought it smacking down hard. Lucy couldn’t believe how much it stung. She gave a little cry of mingled shock and pain as he smacked her again.
He spanked her hard and fast for the first minute, alternate cheeks until Lucy felt like her bottom must be on fire. She wriggled and gasped and gave little sharp cries as his hand cracked down again and again.
Then he paused and after a few seconds began to spank her far more slowly. It almost felt like he was giving careful consideration to each and every smack. Where exactly to make it land… exactly how hard it should be. For Lucy this was almost worse than the initial torrent. This was a torture. She couldn’t tell whether the next one would be hard or soft…. whether it would land on an area that was already hot from the number of smacks it had taken or whether it would land on a new unmarked area of flesh. That was torture; but what was most torturous of all was how much it excited her. She didn’t want to be aroused, but she was and she knew he would be aware of it too. She felt her face blaze almost as red as her bottom with the shame of it.
At the end of five minutes she was allowed to stand. She got to her feet, trembling more than she had been before the spanking had started.
Rob smiled at her. ‘Well Lucy? Still want me to come for the first sitting?’
She didn’t trust herself to speak but simply nodded her head dumbly.
He chuckled at her discomfiture. ‘I’ll let myself out then.’ he said. ‘See you on the 16th.’
Once he had gone Lucy went up to her bedroom. She stood in front of the mirror and lifted her skirt, twisting around so that she could see her bottom. As she had expected it was bright red. Heaven knows what colour it would be next time. For there would be a next time, of that Lucy was certain. Now that he had gone she could feel her composure returning. The spanking had hurt, more than she had thought it would, but it hadn’t been unbearable. She would grit her teeth and get through it and at the end there would be the portrait she wanted so much.
Lucy had five days before the first sitting. She was busy during the day and didn’t have much time to think about it. It was only in bed at night that her thoughts wandered back to that initial encounter and all that it promised for the sessions to come. It was inevitable as she brought it back to life as she lay in the darkness that it should excite her again. The first night she fought those feelings down, ashamed again that being spanked like a naughty little girl should turn her on so much. But the second night she gave way to the feelings that pressed on her as she remembered Rob’s hand cracking down on her bare bum. She slipped a moistened finger between her legs and gave herself the relief she craved, coming to a juddering, gasping climax not once but three times in rapid succession.
Perhaps it was those night time thoughts, but whatever the reason, by the time the 16th dawned Lucy was in a completely different frame of mind about her coming ordeal. She had a new determination. Instead of fighting her arousal she would welcome it. It would still be painful, of that she had no doubt, but this time the pain would be intermingled with pleasure.
He arrived exactly on time and unlike before seemed happy to make conversation with her as he set up his easel. It took him ten minutes or so before he was ready. He stood up and placed his chair in the centre of the room. He sat down on it.
‘Ok Lucy, time to make payment I think.’
Lucy felt herself blush and gave herself a mental kick. Stop it she told herself, relax and don’t be embarrassed when it excites you.
She went and stood by his side and then on his command lifted her skirt and stretched herself across his lap as she had done before. Just like before he slowly lowered her knickers and caressed her bare bottom.
‘Ready?’ he asked her.
‘Yes sir.’ she said
This time there wasn’t the torrent of blows, this time there was a slow build up. He started very gently, spanking her so softly that it hardly hurt at all. And then gradually, very gradually the smacks got harder and hard until after about three minutes he was spanking her with full force. Then a pause, and then the repeat of the teasing, torturous regime he had imposed before – the regime that had excited her so much last time. The effect was the same but this time Lucy did not try to resist it. This time she moaned and gasped and writhed across his lap, pressing herself against him and his growing hardness. Her bottom stung but between her legs she was hot and wet and very excited. The ten minutes seemed to pass in a flash. This time there was a reluctance to her as she stood up and let her skirt fall back over her burning cheeks.
‘Go and stand in the corner facing the wall. And lift your skirt.’
That hadn’t been in the agreement. ‘Why sir?’ she pouted.
Rob smiled ‘Because I very much doubt whether you could sit still at the moment, and if you can’t sit still I can’t paint you.’
She accepted the logic of the argument, even if she couldn’t understand why her cooling down period needed to be spent in the corner. But she decided not to argue and went and took up the position he had ordered.
The sitting took two hours. Lucy had hoped to see what he had started but Rob was very jealous of his work in progress and insisted in taking it way with him.
‘It will spoil it if you see it now. I only want you to see it when its finished.’ he told her.
She pouted again and he laughed ‘You’re beginning to get into the punished schoolgirl role beautifully. That pout is perfect. Perhaps we’ll see more of it next time when the slippers been applied to your peachy bottom.’
She returned his grin. ‘Wait and see.’ she said.
The slipper wasn’t a slipper at all. It was a gym shoe – a light canvas upper with a rubber sole. To Lucy’s eyes it looked fairly inocuous, but in this case feeling, rather than seeing was believing.
The second spanking had been a very different experience to the first. The first had been shocking and shaming, the second both painful and exciting. With the slipper Lucy was back to shock. It just hurt so much! He gave her no warm up this time but smacked it down with hard, heavy slaps that echoed around the room. How Lucy managed to endure the ten minutes over his lap she couldn’t have said.
It was only afterwards as she stood in the corner, her skirt held up and her red bottom on display that she began to feel excited again. Now the pain had turned to a hot glow that seemed to infuse her whole body. She found it hard to stand still and was desperate to slip her fingers between her legs but that had to wait. It was only later once Rob had gone that she was able to lie face down on her bed and bring herself again to that back-arching climax.
It was with some trepidation that Lucy awaited the final sitting. If the slipper had hurt so much, then what would the cane be like? –especially on top of the spanking she was due first. As ever he was totally punctual – although his general appearance was scruffy it was clear to Lucy that here was a man who was disciplined and enjoyed imposing that discipline on others. Amongst the usual paraphenalia that he brought in from the car was one object that she hadn’t seen before: a long crook-handled cane, just like those pictured in some of the old school stories that had once been her father’s and were still in the library at Westfield Park. He hung it on the back of his easel. Seeing that cane made her shiver with both fear and suppressed excitement. What on earth was it going to be like? Would she be able to bear twelve strokes? She didn’t have long to wait.
When he had finished setting up Rob placed the usual upright chair in the middle of the room and sat down
‘The final instalment.’ He announced. ‘Come here your ladyship.’
Nervously Lucy walked over and stood at his side.
‘Over my knee.’ He ordered.
Lucy lowered herself into the familiar position, feeling her heart beat increase as he lifted her skirt. As before her knickers were slowly lowered to her knees and as before the spanking began.
She was spanked slowly and carefully. It was as though he was trying to cover every inch of her bottom equally and equally as hard. He wasn’t brutal with her, each smack stung but not unbearably so and the build up of heat, both on her bottom and between her legs was gradual. She moaned softly as the inevitable excitement grew and squirmed across his knee pressing herself down against him to give herself some illicit stimulation.
She got exactly ten minutes before she was told to stand. She got shakily to her feet and rubbed her bottom, it was hot to the touch. Her knickers slipped down to her ankles and after a moment’s hesitation as to whether to pull them up or not she stepped out of them – she knew only to well that the cane was going to be applied to her bare bottom as well.
Rob watched her with a broad smile on his face. After a few moments he spoke.
‘I think you had better fetch me the cane young lady.’ He said.
Lucy nodded her head and walked across to the easel. She unhooked the cane and held it in her hands. It was thin and whippy and Lucy knew with sudden dread that it was really going to hurt. Her hands shook as she took it over to Rob. She held it out to him but he wouldn’t take it from her.
‘I want to hear you ask for your caning.’ He said softly.
Lucy swallowed hard – she hadn’t been expecting this.
‘What do you want me to say?’ she asked nervously.
‘I want you to say why you deserve the cane and then ask me to punish you.’
‘Ok.’ She stood there biting her lip.
‘Go on.’ He urged.
‘I… I… deserve to be caned…’ Lucy began ‘As payment for my portrait…. so please cane me.’
‘No Lucy you deserve to be caned because you’re a spoilt little rich girl.’
Lucy felt herself flush. She stood silent.
‘Say it.’ He ordered.
‘I deserve to be caned because I’m a spoilt little rich girl.’ She said through clenched teeth.
‘Say it again… say it like you mean it.’
‘No.’
He reached forward lifted her skirt and slapped her thighs, hard, twice. She gave a little yelp and tears sprang to her eyes.
‘Say it.’ He ordered.
Lucy felt her resistance start to crumble as a single tear ran down her cheek. This was humiliating, but it was also exciting.
She took a deep breath. ‘I deserve to be caned because I am a spoilt little rich girl.’ She said clearly.
‘How many strokes?’
‘Twelve sir.’
‘And with what severity?’
‘Maximum.’ She said, feeling a sudden rush of adrenalin go through her as she said the word.
‘So say it again all of it.’
‘Please cane me sir.’ Lucy said, her eyes on his as she proffered the cane . ‘I’m a spoilt little rich girl and I thoroughly deserve to be severely thrashed. So please give me twelve hard strokes on my bare bottom.’
By the time she had said this she was trembling with fear and excitement. She could see the same arousal as him as he took the cane from her and flexed it in his hands. He stood up.
‘Right Lucy, lift your skirt and bend over the back of the chair.’
Lucy did as he instructed, lifting the back of her skirt to expose her red cheeks and then bending forward over the chair back, reaching right over to support herself by grabbing the legs of the chair. This position left her with her bare bottom high in the air and with a felling of complete vulnerability.
Rob tapped the back of her thigh with the tip of the cane. ‘Widen your stance, move your feet right apart.’ He ordered.
Now she was even more exposed, knowing that in this position he could see everything including the clear evidence of her arousal.
‘You will count each stroke aloud and thank me for it.’ He told her.
She didn’t trust her voice to respond but mutely nodded her head. She gave a little gasp as the cane was placed across the centre of her bottom as he lined up the first stroke, then tensed as he drew his arm back.
There was a swishing sound behind her, a sharp crack, and then a fraction of a second later a burning line across her bottom. She came up onto her toes riding the intense pain her mind reeling with the shock of it. The pain seemed to increase with each moment but as it did so she felt her body respond with a pure jolt of sexual excitement that filled her from head to toes. She gasped and shuddered and struggled to find breath to speak. It was seconds before she could say ‘One sir, thank-you.’
For the next five minutes all else ceased to exist for Lucy apart from that cane. That cane which brought such heights of pain and pleasure with every stroke. She counted each aloud as she had been instructed but her mind barely registered the numbers and it was a surprise when she heard him say ‘Very good Lucy, you may stand and rub.’
She was trembling as she stood, carefully she reached back and rubbed her chastised bottom, feeling the painful raised lines that the cane had marked there. She was still in a daze as he led her over to her normal position in the corner and made her stand there with her skirt lifted. The cool air was welcome on her hot bottom and as the minutes went by she slowly recovered herself. She couldn’t quite believe the experience he had just put her through and yet she would never forget it. Indeed it would be something she would yearn for over and over again. The final sitting was not an easy one for Lucy, not least because she found it so hard to sit still, but also because she was dying to see the completed work. Rob worked hard, his brow furrowed with concentration. At last he stepped back, wiped his brush and gave a broad grin.
‘Completed.’ He said with satisfaction.
‘Can I see?’ Lucy asked eagerly.
‘Of course.’
She made her way around to the other side of the easel. She was prepared to be stunned, and in that she was not disappointed. The portrait she had commissioned was all she could have hoped for, but even more amazing was the second canvas beside it. There she was portrayed as well, but not face on as in the first but from behind, standing in the corner, her skirt bunched up around her waist in her hands, her pretty bottom striped with the red marks of the cane.
‘A little bonus.’ Rob remarked smiling.
She returned his smile and then reached across to unhook the cane from where he had hung it on the back of the easel. She handed it to him still smiling
‘And one bonus deserves another don’t you think?’

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