<strong>Hugh, Baron Covington</strong><br/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/03/Geraint_Baron_Hugh_Covington_Av.jpg)</div>"Wait,"<br/><br/>The Baron did nothing of the sort, of course.   She had assented to her punishment, and most certainly deserved it.  Her hands are too late to prevent him from commencing.  His first blow elicits a yelp, but after that, her protestations subside, and indeed, when he queries her she thinks about her answer for a bit.<br/><br/>His hand can feel the heat of her arse, quite a pleasant counterpart to the sting of his palm.  And the redness of her arse is very satisfying as well.  She does not, indeed protest the liberties his hand takes.  To his perceptions, they seem to calm her.  In fact he even wonders if …<br/><br/><em>"I'm certain that you will not find me snooping in your chambers again, my lord,"</em><br/><br/>That is certainly an improvement of attitude, and he rather likes the breathy way she declares it.  But it does fall a bit short of contrition, none the less.<br/><br/>"I hear regret for getting caught, Lucy, but that is not the sound of contrition to my ear."<br/><br/>In fact it is, at least in part, the sound of something more breathy … that intrigues him.<br/><br/>He delivers another smart volley of smacks to her arse, before stopping to rest his hand there again.  It is warmer still, as perhaps is his touch, as he again rubs her heated reddened flesh.<br/><br/>"Now what was it you were intending to say?"<br/>