“They’re quite old,” she remarked. “I suppose they were used a very long time ago.”
“I use them now,” Reggie informed her.
“Now?”
“Miss Killian, I am a sexual dominant. There are times in my sexual practices that I use such instruments on needy females.”
A warm feeling began to rise deep in her belly, something not unfamiliar. But it was odd to attach it to these strange curiosities. “You use this strap on a woman’s ass?” She was dumbfounded at the thought.
“When it’s appropriate.”
“And when is that?” she probed.
“When they ask for it, when they misbehave, when they piss me off, and when they ask a lot of questions.”
“Oh. I suppose I’m bothering you?”
“It’s beyond that point,” he said. “When I’d planned to have a quiet weekend, I end up with a loquacious and mechanically inept management consultant.”
“You must really practice being an ass.”
He looked at her piqued, all the more that she would snap at him and he had no recourse to reply the way he was used to. “Did you sign a contract with Dwight?” Reggie asked.
“Yes. $30,000, two months, iron clad. $10,000 every month thereafter.” She smirked at him as she turned away, and waltzed toward the back of the room. For good measure, she drew two sticks of juicy fruit from her pocket and put them in her mouth, making sure to smack her lips like a teenager just to annoy him. She’d never met anyone quite like Reggie Harold. He was certainly one of the most handsome men she’d ever laid eyes on, he was clearly the most arrogant, and without a doubt the most cold.
Jocelyn continued her journey through the downstairs room. “Awfully big house for just one man. You ever share this with anyone?” she asked.
“Many times,” he said flatly as he continued with his reading.
The fire crackled, and Jocelyn smacked her lips. It was all the sound in the room for a time.
“Are you going to be this annoying to work with on a regular basis,” Reggie blurted out.
Jocelyn whipped around and focused her complete attention on the man. “I’m hardly louder than your fire,” she replied.
“But that is soothing, and you are not.”
“Well you don’t have to get surly. Then again, I suppose you’re used to being this way.”
“I rescue you tonight, give you my food and a place to sleep. It seems you could accommodate my need for quiet,” he snarled.
“You know, I don’t have to put up with men like you, and I can certainly tell when I’m not wanted.” Jocelyn marched up the stairs angrily, as Reggie watched her lovely rear end swish back and forth in the skin tight leggings. She mounted the staircase and then disappeared into her room.
Going back to his work, Reggie was hardly aware of her reappearance until he heard the latch on the front door click. Jumping up from his chair, he went to the foyer to see Jocelyn walking out the door bag in hand.
“Where the hell are you going?” he bellowed.
“I told you, I don’t have to stay; I’ll get that car to town if I have to push it, or maybe I’ll just hike,” she said, her green eyes flashing.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” Reggie exclaimed.
He had her by the arm, but Jocelyn wrenched away from his grasp and bolted out into the cold snow. He barreled after her until he realized that he only had his slippers on, and he had to return to the Lodge to find his boots. By the time he reached the door again, Jocelyn was in her car, gunning the engine and spinning the tires in the thick snow.
Making his way swiftly toward the vehicle, Reggie tried opening the driver side door. “You little bitch,” he seethed, when he found it locked.
To that comment Jocelyn turned to him and glared with a saucy triumphant expression.
He was appalled by her foolishness. He’d never met anyone quite like her. Standing back, he coolly raised his eyebrows, shook his head and finally turned away, as she watched him through the window. She was going nowhere in this godawful snow and they both knew it. However, twenty feet from the house, he heard the car door open and Miss Killian emerge. Expecting her to follow him, he was surprised to turn and see her making her way through the snow toward the road. He called to her, but she refused to acknowledge him, if she heard him at all. Taking off after her, he caught up with the determined redhead, and grabbed her by the arm.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” he said.
“Get your hands off of me!” she roared.
“Then get back in the Lodge, you won’t make it to the road.”
“No!” she barked.
“I’ll carry you then.”
“I’d like to see that!”
To her shock, Reggie jerked her bag from her arm, picked her up and carried her to the house over his shoulder.
“My stuff!” she protested loudly when they reached the front door.
“Get inside and I’ll go back for it.”
It had been a long time since Jocelyn had allowed a man to order her around like this, but her better judgment won out over anger, and she relented.
Once he was back inside again, Reggie eyed the sassy redhead with an icy hot expression. They were standing in the back of the great room face to face, just a few feet apart.
“I ought to blister your ass for that!” he said, thinking aloud.
“Oh really? Well, why don’t you?” she snapped nastily.
That was enough! He made his decision in an instant. The challenge was out, and taken. “You don’t have to ask twice, bend over,” he said, pointing to one of the leather chairs in the living room. He was already drawing his leather belt from his pants.
“Oooo, just like daddy’s,” she mocked him.
“You want it or not?” he asked.
“If you dare!” Jocelyn was enjoying herself, having no idea what she was getting into; but the night had been so boring up to that point, how could a belt across her bottom be that bad? Might really spice things up. Sashaying her rear end like a two bit whore, she moved to the leather chair. “But, I thought spankings were suppose to be over the lap,” she said, as she looked back at him with a taunting pout.
“You don’t deserve that much,” he snapped.
Pushing her down against the chair, Jocelyn’s bottom became a delectable target, raised high and ready, clearly a perfectly spankable butt: two firm cheeks pressed against the tight lycra ski pants. Reggie could almost see the crack between.
Letting his leather belt sing though the air, it landed squarely on the center of Jocelyn’s bottom. She hardly flinched, though then why should she with all the padding between her bare skin and the leather belt. A good dozen repeated smacks, and she was hardly affected by the blast at all.
Deciding he’d never get his message across or vent his own anger, Reggie grabbed the waistband of her pants. Finding no snap or button, he simply jerked them down with a rough yank. The long johns and pants came down at the same time, to reveal her luscious naked buns. Not even the faintest blush had risen on her creamy white dimpled skin.
Jocelyn was flustered not expecting to be so exposed.
“You want it, you’ll get it the ‘right’ way,” Reggie informed her coldly.
“Go ahead, you vile man,” she seethed, even as she grit her teeth, wondering exactly what it would feel like to have herself strapped naked.
She didn’t have long to wait to find out, as Reggie was ready with the belt, laying six swift cuts on the center of her ‘virgin’ behind. The pain was fierce from the beginning, and she cried loudly as the thrilling snap of leather against her skin sent a shock wave though her system that awakened every bit of sexual energy in her body. The crude mix of pain and pleasure was an unexpected aphrodisiac. She’d heard of such things, but would never have believed it without this experience with reality.
The back of the leather chair was a perfect complement to the pain, allowing her to grind her crotch into the soft animal hide as if she was screwing a lover. The impact of each smack just amplified the erotic sensation. It was like dynamite in her highly aroused body. And yet, even as Jocelyn’s sexual heat climbed to a peak, the burn on her bottom was becoming so dear, it was hard to tolerate the pain. And after a time, she began stamping her feet in a little dance, and then issued forth with a lusty howl. “Damn it stop!”
“Oh no,” Reggie responded readily. “You wanted it.”
“But, I don’t now!”
“Then why aren’t you running off?” He punctuated each remark with another snap of leather on her flaming ass. The ruthless dominant could see distinct lines, where the belt hit, but mostly the blush was all just a vibrant red blur on the once white skin. They jiggled as she squirmed, jiggled even more when the belt snapped against them.
After her protest, he modulated his strokes, some soft, some hard, and Jocelyn continued to respond. When he softened, she almost began to purr with delight, and when he laid one or two really fierce smacks on her sore ass, she howled all the more. And still, she didn’t threaten to run, not even once. He could keep this treatment up for a long time, keep the fiery redhead on the verge of ecstasy and pain, happy, crying, bewildered and eventually content when he finally finished. He knew content would come in the end, it always did to any well spanked submissive, and it would to Jocelyn Killian, too.
Just before the end, he dropped his aim to the lovely swell of tender flesh just at the base of her bottom, and then he drifted lower still to the top of her fine firm thighs, just to allow a new fresh sting to impress on her that this was punishment not just some sexual interlude. She let out a spirited howl and demanded he stop.
But he was finished anyway, and he walked off without saying a word. Reggie returned to his chair, while Jocelyn remained bent over, her red naked bottom exposed to the cool of the air, and the nothingness that remained in place of the hot minutes of spanking.
She was slow to stand, her limbs feeling awkward – the position had been more uncomfortable than she thought.
One quick glance at her flushed face and Reggie could see she’d been crying real tears. And her stare was almost alarming. A little fright, a little awe, and a good deal of lust stared him in the face. And then a sassy smirk.
“I know why you like this,” she said, as she reached down to pull up her pants. It was a bit of a struggle getting the tight garment over her sore posterior.
Reggie looked at her coolly. “Oh?”
“You’re turned on, aren’t you?”
“I punished you Miss Killian for acting like a seven year old brat, why would that turn me on?”
“Because it did me,” she said, as she waltzed toward the man, her green eyes glimmering seductively. She dropped between his legs and moved toward his crotch. Without saying a word, or asking his consent, or even letting on exactly what she had in mind, she reached for the belt that was now at his waist again, and began unfastening it.
“You want more?” Reggie asked, looking down in an uncharacteristic daze.
“Oh, yes, I want more,” she purred, as she licked her lips. She undid the button, and then the zipper, and then reached inside his pants to find a swelling prick. Removing it ever so carefully, her lips were over the head, her whole mouth descending on Reggie’s generous manhood. It only stood to reason that a man like Reggie Harold would have a first class prick.
It was a feat of some magnitude for this woman to get so far inside Reggie’s space, especially on a first night. Not since he was a horny twenty year old had any woman been this forward with him. He was well practiced in keeping females at a distance, only letting in ones that he could clearly control. But this was the dead of winter, in the middle of a blizzard, and this enchantress of a female witch had appeared out of nowhere…maybe somewhere beyond the clouds there was a full moon…
The sensations were too good, unexpected and very strong, too compelling to pass up, too delicious to push away even to maintain his practiced control. Once his cock was rock hard, he lifted the auburn haired woman from his crotch, and pulled her up on his lap. They struggled like teenagers to remove her pants again; but when her bottom was naked, she sat on his cock, the two working together to move her up and down on the contented prick.
She leaned down over his face, her long wavy locks tickling his cheeks as she kissed him with tender lips, and a tongue reaching out to play with his opening mouth.
They groaned together, though not loudly, as if they were respectful of the stolen quality of this moment, both doing something they never would have done on any other occasion.
There must have been a full moon…
She climaxed in the midst of the screwing, sometime just before he did.
And though
he
might well have been finished with the lovemaking, one throbbing moment in Jocelyn’s cunt wasn’t enough to celebrate the bizarre night in the woods; she was only beginning. With a winsome smile on her face, with her green eyes gleaming brightly into his cool ones, she unbuttoned the crisp starched shirt, finding his tanned and muscled chest. She stroked it ever so gentle as he lifted a well manicured hand to her face and caressed it with bittersweet awe.
They landed on the deep leather couch locked naked, pressed tightly together for the long night. He had no idea how many times she came, he came three by three a.m.. And when they were sweating hot from sex and the heat of the burning fire in the grate, they remained clutched together naked, neither one wanting to move, communicating silently, because neither one wanted to speak and risk shattering the bliss.