Verily I say to thou, pluck thy mote from thine eyes

Taylor lay on her back, Madison’s cheek resting on her dewy breast, fingers entwined on her pubis; galloping pulses from their first loving gradually slowing as quick breathes eased beneath the five-bladed ceiling fan rattling endlessly through the deepening twilight.
“Can I ask you something, Taylor?”
“Sure, love.”
Tentatively tracing of the scar marring the otherwise satin skin of Taylor’s right thigh. “How did this happen?”

‘Are you so blinded by your piety that you’d cast off your only child?’
‘She is not my daughter! Filthy deviant sodomite! Begone from my sight and my house!’

“Sounds like a preacher man.”
“He was. All hellfire and brimstone: Eternal damnation to those that strayed from the path of righteousness. Ruthless to sinners.”
“You don’t have to tell me, Taylor. It’s okay.”
“I don’t mind, Madison. The irony of it all, or God’s will if you’re a believer, the month after my father kicked me out for fornicating with a girl—while my mother stood by wringing her hands—he was caught with a man from church in a convenience store bathroom.”
“No. Way!”
“Yes way, Madison. Cock sucker and all that.”
“So what happened? Was there a whole family reunion and redemption bit?”

‘Are you Taylor Watson?’
‘Yes, officer.’
‘I’m sorry, miss. Your parents are both dead.’

“Oh, Taylor!”
“I was sixteen and now an orphan. I’d been staying with friends, non-church members; the congregation had collectively turned their backs on me. And then, after his arrest for public indecency… the neighbors said they heard a loud argument, then two gunshots. After that, not even my lover would take me in.”
“What about relatives? Or foster care? Didn’t the state step in?”
“They did at first, but the entire town—“
“—Blamed you.”
“Exactly.”
“Fuckers.”
“It’s alright, Madison. Being a runaway wasn’t great, but I found a family on the streets that kept me safe. All for a price of course.”

‘Leave me alone! You got what you wanted!’
‘I’m sorry. A girl’s never thrown up afterwards before.’
‘Go. Tell Mark you did the deed and we’re square.’

“Did you… were you—”
“—Raped?”
“I’m so sorry I asked about the scar.”
Taylor slid out from underneath Madison, propped her back up against the shams lining the headboard, and patted her thighs. “Over my lap. You know the rules.”
“Never use the word sorry when it’s unnecessary,” Madison chanted as she draped her lithe body over Taylor’s thighs.
Running her hand over Madison’s pert bottom, she grinned in the now dark bedroom. “That’s okay, sweetie, you meant well. I’ll not punish you… this time, just give you a nice, long gentle spanking and see if I can coax an orgasm out of you.” Hearing the moan, she teased, “Would you like that, little girl?”
“Yes, please! It’s been too long since you spanked me.”
“It was this morning, wench!”
“Exactly!” Madison said, lifting her rear in supplication to her mistress.
As Taylor began spanking her submissive—finally lover—she had one last thing to say before getting down to the serious business at hand. “I admit I was blinded by rage and hate for far too long. Until I found you in fact, and that fortuitous meeting is something I will never be sorry for. You’ve given me back something I’d thought lost forever. The power to forgive.”

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked