Spank Me Mr. Darcy

  Spank Me, Mr. Darcy, Copyright (c) 2013 by Lissa Trevor

  Riverdale Avenue Books

  5676 Riverdale Ave., Suite 101

  Riverdale, NY 14071

  www.riverdaleavebooks.com

  Interior Layout by www.formatting4U.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in

  writing from the publisher.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  First Edition

  Cover by: Scott Carpenter

  Layout by www.formatting4U.com

  Print ISBN: 978-1-62601-022-2

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-62601-023-9

  Chapter 1

  It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a dominant man in possession of a good set of cuffs, must be in want of a much younger, submissive wife.

  However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters.

  “My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady to him one day as she removed the ball gag from his mouth, “have you heard that Netherfield Park is at last under new ownership?”

  “No M’Lady,” Mr. Bennet replied.

  “But it is,” returned she, untying the leather restraints that bound her naughty husband to the bed post;

  Mr. Bennet made no answer, as he was took advantage of his freedom to pin his wife beneath him.

  “Do you not want to know who has taken it?” cried his wife, impatiently thrusting her hips up to encourage him to enter her hard and fast.

  “You want to tell me?” Mr. Bennet groaned, feeling the tight muscles of her quim clamp down on him. He ravaged her like a man teased beyond his endurance, his posterior red and burning from her use of the riding crop. “I have no objection to hearing it – as soon as you come for me.”

  This was invitation enough.

  “Why, my dear, you make me ache,” Mrs. Bennet said, sighing her pleasure as he thrust in and out. They had been married twenty years and were raising five daughters, but he still made her feel like a wanton. She dug her nails into his shoulders as the sweet oblivion threatened to have her caterwauling her pleasure to the household. Settling for screaming into his mouth, his lady met his plunges eagerly until the sparks danced before her eyes and tremors threatened to rip her apart.

  He grunted and finished shortly after, collapsing on top of Mrs. Bennet. He kissed her shoulder and rolled off to stare at the ceiling while he tried to catch his breath.

  “Mrs. Long says that Netherfield is taken by a young man of large fortune from the north of England; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it, that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his servants are to be in the house by the end of next week.”

  “What is his name?” Mr. Bennet said, turning on his side to admire her pert form.

  “Bingley.”

  “Is he married or single?”

  “Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! What a fine thing for our girls!”

  “How so? How can it affect them?” He danced his fingers over her breasts, watching her nipples tighten and bud. He tugged on them, rolling them between his fingers.

  “My dear Mr. Bennet,” replied his wife, “ You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.”

  “Is that his design in settling here?” He trailed his fingers down her ribcage and belly. He tangled his fingers in the curly hairs at the juncture of her thighs and tugged.”

  “Design!” she cried out, her hips lifting in response to his caress. “Nonsense, how can you talk so! But it is very likely that he may fall in love with one of them, and therefore you must visit him as soon as he comes.”

  “I see no occasion for that,” he said, combing his fingers down to her slick wet heat.” You and the girls may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are as handsome as any of them. Mr. Bingley may like you the best of the party and I’ll not share you with him.” His fingers languidly stroked between the soft folds of her core.

  “My dear, you flatter me,” she purred, arching into his caress. “I certainly have had my share of beauty, but I do not pretend to be anything extraordinary now. When a woman has five grown-up daughters, she ought to give over thinking of her own beauty.”

  “In such cases, a woman has not often much beauty to think of, or talent. You are definitely both beautiful and talented” He tickled her until she was insensate, her body tightening on his fingers. Mr. Bennet flicked her to another orgasm that had her clutching his shoulders. Her lovely mouth a perfect “O” of surprise and joy.

  He picked up the riding crop and teased it over her buttocks.

  She pressed into him as the warm leather tingled against her sensitive skin. “But, my dear, you must indeed go and see Mr. Bingley when he comes into the neighbourhood.”

  “It is more than I engage for, I assure you.”

  “But consider your daughters.”

  “I’d rather not, while I am abed with you.”

  “Only think what an establishment it would be for one of them. It will be impossible for us to visit him if you do not.”

  “You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say Mr. Bingley will be very glad to see you, especially if you wear your blue gown. You may tempt him, but if I find out he has taken liberties, it is you I will punish.” He tapped the riding crop against her nipples.

  She shivered at her husband’s dark tone. It was almost as if he willed her to disobey him.

  “However, I will send a few lines by you to assure him of my hearty consent to his marrying whichever he chooses of the girls; though I must throw in a good word for my little Lizzy. She is so quiet and obedient. She’d make a lovely wife.”

  “I desire you will do no such thing. Lizzy is not a bit better than the others; and I am sure she is not half so handsome as Jane, nor half so good-humoured as Lydia. But you are always giving her the preference.”

  “They have none of them much to recommend them,” replied he; “they are all silly and ignorant like other girls; but Lizzy has something more of quickness than her sisters. She has a hidden core. A mystery that might stir a man into obsession – quite like her mother.” He took her mouth in a rough kiss, but she pushed him away.

  “Mr. Bennet, how can you disregard your other children in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. Letting me pretend at dominance, then taking it away with your harsh words and greater strength. You have no compassion for my needs.”

  “You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your needs. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these last twenty years at least.”

  “Ah, you do not know what I suffer.”

  “But I hope you will get over it, and live to see many young men of fortune come into the neighbourhood.”

  “It will be no use to us, if twenty such should come, since you will not visit them.”

  “Depend upon it, my dear, that when there are twenty, I will visit them all.” He then bent to his task of whipping his wife into a frenzy of sensation. Striking her thigh, the bottom of her feet, he smiled at her pleasure. And when she launched herself on him, he allowed her to have her way with him.

  Mr. Bennet was so odd a mixtur
e of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. He liked to be bound and whipped, but in the end he was the dominant one in the relationship.

  Mrs. Bennet’s mind was less difficult to develop. She was a woman of mean understanding, little information, and uncertain temper. When she was discontented, she fancied herself nervous. Giving her the crop and the bindings had loosed a sexual creature that was tempting, biddable and entirely devoted to shared pleasure. The business of her life, on the other hand, was to get her daughters happily married so she could enjoy her husband and their frolics without interruption.

  Chapter 2

  Mr. Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Bingley in Netherfield Park. He had always intended to visit him, having fond memories of the orgies of his youth held in the lower ballrooms of the stately home. To his delight, the servants were setting up the dungeons and play areas. Perhaps in the future, Mrs. Bennet and he would be able to assuage some of the darker needs of his that his wife had yet to experience. Not wanting to arouse her curiosity, he kept his sojourn a secret. And till the evening after the visit was paid, she had no knowledge of it. Observing his second daughter employed in trimming a hat, he suddenly addressed her with:

  “I hope Mr. Bingley will like it, Lizzy.”

  “We are not in a way to know what Mr. Bingley likes,” said her mother resentfully, “since we are not to visit.”

  “But you forget, mamma,” said Elizabeth, “that we shall meet him at the assemblies, and that Mrs. Long promised to introduce him.”

  “I do not believe Mrs. Long will do any such thing. She has two nieces of her own. She is a selfish, hypocritical woman, and I have no opinion of her.”

  “No more have I,” said Mr. Bennet; although that was a bit untrue. He had once had the pleasure of the woman’s mouth around his turgid member in the days of his misspent youth. “And I am glad to find that you do not depend on her serving you.” The thought of anyone servicing his wife but him made him rather cross.

  Mrs. Bennet deigned not to make any reply, but, unable to contain herself, began scolding one of her daughters in hope that they would take instruction to become proper ladies.

  “Don’t keep coughing so, Kitty, for Heaven’s sake! Have a little compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces.”

  “Kitty has no discretion in her coughs,” said her father; “she times them ill.” In fact, his younger daughter had no discretion at all, which would become a problem once they were more formally introduced to polite society.

  “I do not cough for my own amusement,” replied Kitty fretfully. “When is your next ball to be, Lizzy?”

  “Tomorrow fortnight.” Elizabeth said, eagerness in every line of her body.

  “Aye, so it is,” cried her mother, “and Mrs. Long does not come back till the day before; so it will be impossible for her to introduce him, for she will not know him herself.” She glared at her husband. It would have been nice to attend. She had heard so much about Netherfield. But without Mr. Bingley’s acknowledgement there would be no Netherfield. Not for her, nor for her daughters.

  “Then, my dear, you may have the advantage of your friend, and introduce Mr. Bingley to her.” He smiled, a devilish grin that has his wife biting her lip in anticipation—even as she was vexed with him refusing to help marry off their daughters.

  “Impossible, Mr. Bennet, impossible, when I am not acquainted with him myself; how can you be so teasing?”

  “I honour your circumspection. A fortnight’s acquaintance is certainly very little. One cannot know what a man really is by the end of a fortnight. But if we do not venture somebody else will; and after all, Mrs. Long and her daughters must stand their chance; and, therefore, as she will think it an act of kindness, if you decline the office, I will take it on myself.”

  The girls stared at their father. Could it be that they would be allowed to attend the festivities at the notorious Netherfield Park?

  Mrs. Bennet said only, “Nonsense, nonsense!”

  “What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?” cried he. “Do you consider the forms of introduction, and the stress that is laid on them, as nonsense? I cannot quite agree with you there. What say you, Mary? For you are a young lady of deep reflection, I know, and read great books and make extracts.”

  Mary wished to say something sensible, but knew not how. She had been fantasizing about a passage she read in a diary she had found in the library. The woman had worn a black domino mask and had men begging her to let them satisfy her. With a mask, no one would think she was plain Mary, the ugly Bennet sister.

  “While Mary is adjusting her ideas,” he continued, “let us return to Mr. Bingley.”

  “I am sick of Mr. Bingley,” cried his wife. She had been unable to coerce the man to attend an afternoon of tea. She felt like a failure.

  “I am sorry to hear that; but why did not you tell me that before? If I had known as much this morning I certainly would not have called on him. It is very unlucky; but as I have actually paid the visit, we cannot escape the acquaintance now.”

  The astonishment of the ladies was just what he wished; that of Mrs. Bennet perhaps surpassing the rest; though, when the first tumult of joy was over, she began to declare that it was what she had expected all the while.

  “How good it was in you, my dear Mr. Bennet! But I knew I should persuade you at last. I was sure you loved your girls too well to neglect such an acquaintance. Well, how pleased I am! And it is such a good joke, too, that you should have gone this morning and never said a word about it till now.” She gave her husband a seductive, smoldering look and deliberate swayed out of the drawing room to head up to their bedroom.

  “Now, Kitty, you may cough as much as you choose,” said Mr. Bennet; and, as he spoke, he left the room, looking forward to a session of raptures with his wife.

  “What an excellent father we have, girls!” said Elizabeth, when the door was shut. “I do not know how we will ever make him amends for his kindness;. At our time of life it is not so pleasant, I can tell you, to be making new acquaintances every day; but for the sake of our future, we should do anything. Lydia, my love, though you are the youngest, I dare say Mr. Bingley will dance with you at the next ball. I’ve heard such delicious things about what goes on at Netherfield. They say there are pleasure rooms filled with decadent and wicked things there. Let us hope that we make a good impression so he invites us to his home.”

  “Oh!” said Lydia stoutly, “I am not afraid; for though I am the youngest, I’m the bravest.”

  The rest of the evening was spent in conjecturing how soon Mr. Bingley would return Mr. Bennet’s visit, and determining when they should ask him to dinner.

  Chapter 3

  Not all that Mrs. Bennet, however, with the assistance of her five daughters, could ask on the subject, was sufficient to draw from her husband any satisfactory description of Mr. Bingley. They attacked him in various ways—with barefaced questions, ingenious suppositions, and distant surmises. Mrs. Bennet had whipped him until she was panting and desperate, but he eluded the skill of them all, and they were at last obliged to accept the second-hand intelligence of their neighbour, Lady Lucas. Her report was highly favourable. He had a sweet disposition, but was harsh with his servants. Even Sir William had been delighted with him after spending an hour or so in Netherfield. Mr. Bingley was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively hopes of Mr. Bingley’s heart were entertained.

  “If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield,” said Mrs. Bennet to her husband as she knelt at his feet, her hands and feet bound together, “and all the others equally well married, I shall have nothing to wish for.”

  When Mr. B
ennet slid his cock into her mouth, she had nothing further to say either.

  In a few days Mr. Bingley returned Mr. Bennet’s visit, and sat about ten minutes with him in his library. He had entertained hopes of being admitted to a sight of the young ladies, of whose beauty he had heard much and perhaps test each one as to their sensitivity and desires; but he saw only the father, who was interested in talking about arranging a threesome with a buxom maid and his lady wife. The ladies were somewhat more fortunate, for they had the advantage of ascertaining from an upper window that Mr. Bingley wore a blue coat, rode a black horse and had a firm and muscled backside.

  An invitation to dinner was soon afterwards dispatched; and already had Mrs. Bennet planned the courses that were to do credit to her housekeeping and how best to show off her attributes in the blue dress, when an answer arrived which deferred it all. Mr. Bingley was obliged to be in town the following day, and, consequently, unable to accept the honour of their invitation, etc. Mrs. Bennet was quite disconcerted. She could not imagine what business he could have in town so soon after his arrival in Hertfordshire; and she began to fear that he might be always flying about from one place to another, and never settled at Netherfield as he ought to be.

  Lady Lucas quieted her fears a little. A report soon followed that Mr. Bingley was to bring twelve ladies and seven gentlemen with him to the assembly.

  They grieved over such a number of ladies, but were comforted the day before the ball by hearing, that instead of twelve he brought only six with him from London—his five sisters and a cousin. And when the party entered the assembly room it consisted of only five altogether—Mr. Bingley, his two sisters, the husband of the eldest, and another young man.

  Mr. Bingley was good-looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion and serene beauty. His brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, merely looked the gentleman and was seen fondling a maid during the assembly; but his friend Mr. Darcy soon drew the attention of the room by his fine, tall person, handsome features, noble mien, and the report which was in general circulation within five minutes after his entrance, of being ridiculously wealthy. The gentlemen pronounced him to be a fine figure of a man, the ladies declared he was much handsomer than Mr. Bingley, and he was looked at with great admiration for about half the evening, till his manners gave disgust which turned the tide of his popularity. He didn’t speak unless spoken too, and then only grudgingly for he was discovered to be proud; to be above his company, and above being pleased; and not all his large estate in Derbyshire could then save him from having a most forbidding, disagreeable countenance, and being unworthy to be compared with his friend.