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    Formal British Reserve
    Formal British Reserve
    Formal British Reserve
    Ebook40 pages31 minutes

    Formal British Reserve

    By Leigh Clark

    ()

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    About this ebook

    The pain was indescribable—imagine a paper cut the size of the Grand Canyon. Now fill it with an ocean of lemon juice. Now flick it with a fingernail the size of a shopping mall parking lot. That’s how much it hurt. I grimaced, giving a ladylike little gasp, but in my head I was just waiting for this to be over. Behind me was the new girl, Alison, with a paddle, and she’d managed to catch the junction of my buttock and my thigh with the edge of it. Fortunately I was wearing the Catwoman PVC body tights and a halter top or I could have been badly marked.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHoE
    Release dateFeb 23, 2012
    ISBN9781781661000
    Formal British Reserve

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      Book preview

      Formal British Reserve - Leigh Clark

      Title Page

      Formal British Reserve

      By

      Leigh Clark

      Publisher Information

      Formal British Reserve published in 2012

      by Andrews UK Limited

      www.andrewsuk.com

      This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

      The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

      Copyright © Leigh Clark 2012

      The right of Leigh Clark to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

      Formal British Reserve

      The pain was indescribable—imagine a paper cut the size of the Grand Canyon. Now fill it with an ocean of lemon juice. Now flick it with a fingernail the size of a shopping mall parking lot. That’s how much it hurt. I grimaced, giving a ladylike little gasp, but in my head I was just waiting for this to be over. Behind me was the new girl, Alison, with a paddle, and she’d managed to catch the junction of my buttock and my thigh with the edge of it. Fortunately I was wearing the Catwoman PVC body tights and a halter top or I could have been badly marked. Alison was wearing the beige suede lederhosen and a sheer black floppy blouse.

      We were demonstrating some toys for a couple—a new couple was my guess, and I also guessed they wouldn’t be together long, because he was focused entirely on the costumes while she was interested solely in the corporal punishment. That wasn’t going to be a sustainable future in the BDSM world. They were sitting in our ‘couple’ seat—a double-sized leather armchair with a central arm that had a place for a pair of manacles, drinking the average sherry we handed out to people who knew no better, and she, at least, was gazing at the action with all the wonderment of a five-year-old entering Disneyland. Of course, I could only see them intermittently, because it was important to remain in character and that meant closing my eyes in between blows, opening them wide during the actual strikes and fluttering my eyelashes after them. So far this loving but short-term couple had spent over five hundred pounds with us, and they were entitled to a good show, but

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