Are you brave enough to read something a little different? Spankings, vampires and a little lovin'—are you up to it?
Who or what lights your fire of desire?
Called Isabeau by the staff of St. Bianca and by her friends, Elizabeth has lived a sheltered life in the French abbey finishing school of St. Bianca. Now Elizabeth is a grown woman, restless for the joys and experiences of adult life. The one brief love affair she has experienced turned out very badly, however, at the finishing school there are few opportunities for excitement.
Very soon Elizabeth's life will be changed forever- first by the introduction to the abbey's stern new English teacher, M. Hunt. His disciplinary methods not only humble Elizabeth's impertinence, but awaken passionate new feelings she hadn't expected to erupt.
There is also Count Danesti—a distant relative of Elizabeth's. Danesti is dark, handsome, and alluring in every way a woman could hope for. His arrival comforts Elizabeth's need to know about her dead parents, thus giving her hope to establish a connection with the rest of her biological family. Danesti has another motive for revealing himself to Elizabeth: the obsessive desire to claim her heart. Danesti will use whatever vampiric trick or enchantment at his avail to make that desire come true.
Take a walk on the wild side, if you dare!
Beatrice left it for awhile. But after I'd come out and had dried she offered to massage some lotion over my backside. I was still naked, lying on my stomach, as she got up and kneeled on the mattress over my legs. My buttocks were still quite sore, but the cool rose-scented lotion spread out under her gentle hands took some of the heat away.
"I do not believe you, Isabeau," she said bluntly.
"What do you mean?" I asked, lost for understanding at the accusation.
"I mean, there has to be more to it than that," she said. "To be spanked so thoroughly, and by a teacher who was a stranger until today… his hand chastising your bare flesh? Oh, this must have been very embarrassing."
"Yes, certainly it was," I said softly.
"And then be made to keep your panties lowered. Sister Edna could have walked in at any moment. You say that is all there is to it. I think not."
I turned my head and gave her an exasperated look. "There is a point to this observation you make?"
She nodded, looking down very thoughtfully as she continued to massage. "Either you are very angry and very contrite. Or you are stirred at the same time by this stern M. Hunt."
My cheeks prickled hotly. Trying to ignore this, I gave her a flippant reply, "Don't expect to pass psychology class with your usual breezy grapple, Beatrice."
She poured some more lotion into a palm. "There is no shame, you know. Some muse that it is natural to feel this way. For M. Hunt to fluster the carnal senses during chastisement is a superior chastisement. A control, a discipline, and a reminder of your vulnerability for the passion incited by your chastiser."
"Where do you hear these things, my friend? Surely not from the nuns."
She smiled. "Ah, there are some passages from the letters that my Gerald sends that I do not share."
I squealed with amusement. "Beatrice! Here you are attempting to coax me into some confession, when it is you and your decadent suitor who are in need of confession! Such shame, my dear."
"Shame? No. I am no more pious to this faith that is foreign to my constitution than you."
With this said she gave my buttocks a smart slap and moved off my legs. She lay down on her back atop the mattress and crossing her arms behind her neck, looked at me.
"Ouch," I muttered, rubbing the spot she'd slapped. "Wait until it's your turn to bend over M. Hunt's lap!"
"I don't think that will happen," she said. She smiled brightly then, and lifted a brow. "M. Hunt has chosen."
"Chosen? What do you mean?"