Amused, Cressada flicked Malcolm’s rump, saying, “I’m pleased you’re so in tune with – ah… petticoat rule and wearing the boots, child, but why single out Langdon for your kind attentions?”
“Bah!” Margery snorted, “He’s always burned my little Frances… thinking he’s so all-fired smart,,, and he’s twice too big for his britches. The kicks I’m getting seeing him cut down to size… Bob now, is a nice inoffensive laddie… but this one…” she swaggered so close to Malcolm’s scrubbing head that he had to veer it aside, “this treatment is exactly what he deserves. Any boot licking mouse that lets a woman thrash him and make a damn fool of him gets no sympathy from me.”
“You’re sweet,” Sada swayed aside. “Let’s be comfortable, girl. I can oversee the husb. from over there. And he asks for no one’s sympathy. He crawled under my heel with his eyes open. And he begged for his punishment, my dear, simply crushed by his inability to defy me.” The blonde, lissome maiden and the dark strapping beauty reclined on a lawn chaise. Fingering the ugly rawhide, she accounted for every move of her toiling groom with chilled-steel grey eyes. A deep surge of despotism swelled her momentous bosom, thrusting the sumptuous furs apart. Margery watched Malcolm’s degration snootily. “One time I respect that man,” she said, “but now he’s just a disgusting worm.”
Originally posted 2007-08-04 03:29:29. Republished by Blog Post Promoter
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