Jocelyn went to the maid’s room as soon as she was in the door.
“Helena,” she said, knocking.
“Yes, ma’am.” The gentle young woman opened the door a crack. Her two dark eyes stared out at the mistress of the house. Short cropped brown hair, a wide open face, clear olive complexion, and a trace of an accent from her European roots made Jocelyn quicken a little inside, recognizing female lust again. something she’d clearly felt with Alex, but hardly expected from the young woman in her home.
“I understand that you had a difficult week with Mr. Harold?”
The girl blushed. “I made some big mistakes, ma’am. He was trying to be patient, but I know he’s angry.” She opened the door wider. Jocelyn, taking the gesture as an invitation, walked in and sat down on the bed.
“What exactly did you do?” Jocelyn asked.
“Burned his breakfast one morning.”
Jocelyn nodded for her to go on.
“Spilled grape juice on his suit, the gray one.”
That was the one he’d just bought. Jocelyn winced.
“And…” the girl hedged a bit… “I threw away some papers in the library. They were in the trash, so I assumed he didn’t need them.”
“I thought I told you not to go in that room,” Jocelyn said.
“I thought I was being helpful since you were away.”
“That’s Mr. Harold’s inner sanctum, he doesn’t want anyone going in there. Not even me, unless I have an invitation.”
“That’s what he said,” the girl replied, no doubt remembering whatever confrontation the two had had.
“What else did he say?”
“He kind of left the house yesterday morning saying that I’d have to talk to Mrs. Harold when she got back. That’s all really. I haven’t seen him since. He was out early this morning, didn’t come home until late last night.”
“He’s furious with you, Helena,” Jocelyn informed her of the obvious. “And he wants me to fire you.”
The young woman had tears puddling in her eyes, ready to spill down her cheeks. She looked so sweet and forlorn.
“It’s your green card, the immigration? You need to have the job, don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m on your side,” she said kindly. “I’d like to you stay. But I’ll have to do some fast talking to get Mr. Harold to change his mind. And you’ll have to shape up now, no more stupid mistakes.”
“Oh, ma’am, if you could just forgive me this time.”
“I can forgive you very easily. It’s Mr. Harold you’re going to have to please.”
Jocelyn turned away from the maid and went to the living room, wondering why she was putting up with Helena’s blunders. She did have some compassion for the poor thing; but mostly, she enjoyed defying Reggie on this one. Perverse at it was it roused her to no end. Then, too, there was also that unmistakable rush of desire that surged through her thinking of sharing Helena’s bed for the night.
***
Reggie didn’t say a word on entering the house. He did stand at the doorway of the living room, looking into the darkness at his wife sitting passively on the sofa. Her head was resting on the back as if she was dozing.
“Is she gone?” he asked, waking Jocelyn from whatever state of mind she was in.
“No.”
Reggie shook his head. “You’re really going to challenge me on this?”
“I told you I wouldn’t fire her. I did talk to her. She told me about the mishaps you’ve had; though I didn’t think they were that serious. She was trying hard to please you. I could see that.” Jocelyn talked sweetly hoping he’d see the situation her way.
“Dammit, Jocelyn. I ask for one thing and you’re going to make a ridiculous example of it. Why?”
“Because I think you’re wrong.”
“And I think you’re out of line. I’ll fire her myself.” He took off toward Helena’s room.
“No you won’t!” She charged up from the chair and grabbed his arm.
“Jocelyn!” he snapped, turning back to her with a scowl.
“You make people tense,” she said gently. “How many times have you said that yourself?”
“Well, then we’ll hire someone that can stand to be in my presence.”
“Oh, stop!”
“You want me to blister your butt for her crimes?”
“If that’s what it takes,” she answered defiantly.
“Well then, by all means. I’d be very happy to.”
Reggie pulled his wife with him to the library, his secret place, his private haven, into the darkest room in the house, where all the nastiest scenes he could devise took place. She struggled with him, fruitless effort that it was. And he wasted no time retrieving his favorite leather piece from the closet. Pushing Jocelyn against the back of a leather chair, he pulled up her skirt, held her at his waist, and with the foot long paddle began to smack her exposed behind with all the fury that was raging through him.
“Ouch! Goddammit!” Jocelyn roared, again a fruitless waste of energy to protest. Reggie never backed off from a punishment.
“I expect defiance from lots of people, but certainly not you!” he barked.
“Then you don’t know me as well as you think! You ass!” Jocelyn snapped in the hairsbreadth of an instant he gave her to respond, before he began with another blast of stinging blows to her bottom.
Like some raging inferno unleashed, the spirit behind this paddling was pure raw unexpressed emotion. Reggie recognized its source—coming from having missed her far too much while she was away, resenting her for even leaving. The admission did nothing to change his intentions for his wife’s behind. The fiery rain of blows continued. Smack after smack, some right over top the others, still others straying to her thighs and upper bottom. Everywhere he could inflict the torture and make her bottom rosy with the effort, Reggie let loose with a savage cut.
“Dammit stop!” she wailed. Among her other wails of woe this one stood out from the others and annoyed him most. He wasn’t about to stop by her command and the cry only made him double his effort, just when he was about to finish off.
And yet, as the furious confrontation continued, without either one realizing it, a wave of desire began to sweep over them both. So much tension released, so much agitation dwindling away, even the smacks of the paddle began to take on a different quality, an erotic one. Jocelyn’s protests weren’t protests at all anymore, but moans of pleasure and gratitude, turning the tempestuous event into something altogether different than either planned. As Reggie dropped the paddle to the floor, his hands were on her burning ass, being as ruthless as he knew how, keeping the pain still fresh in her mind. But that was the aphrodisiac she wanted. She pushed against his hands, welcoming the invasion of fingers in her ass, and begged for more as he toyed with her clit. Moistening the rear door, he penetrated her with two fingers of one hand while with the other he rummaged through a nearby drawer for some lube to make the entry easier. Finding what he wanted, he had his wife’s ass well greased before his hard prick slipped inside. With the addition of a good sized dildo in her cunt, he was fucking her double, feeling the thrill of a raging climax about to explode.
He roared as he was finishing off. However, Jocelyn, still waiting for her own orgasm to commence, moved back against his pulsing prick, begging him not to withdraw as the stimulation rose to a peak.
“I shouldn’t even let you come,” he murmured, even though his playful fingers defied his words.
“Ah, ah, ah ah, Reg, pleeeease.” She was speaking some unintelligible nonsense, and then at last rocking back into his groin, she let the pleasure move from one end of her body to the other. “Oh, my god,” she whispered in a voice he could hardly hear.
“We’re not going to be separated like this again,” Reggie swore, as he pulled her up, his prick falling away from her ass, her body limp in his arms.
“Perhaps not,” she concurred. For all the female lust expressed in Alex Kozak’s arms, this was a heaven worth not forgetting. Being violated so crudely never made sense, but it was a sexual deviation that she demanded to really feel alive. “I’m glad I’m home,” she said, snuggling against his chest, looking up at his satisfied eyes.
“Even as sore as you are?” he wondered. He fondled her sore cheeks to make sure she’d remember the spanking.
“There’s no substitute for this,” she said.
“Oh, so you were looking for substitutes?”
“Naw. Dildos just aren’t the same,” she said, just a trace of guilt thinking of her tiny omission about having sex with Alex
“Damn good thing they’re not.”
“So, Reg, do I have to fire Helena?”
He didn’t answer immediately, thinking he should probably stick to his guns. Though since he’d been with her, Jocelyn was bringing out a much softer side of him, and perhaps this was one time to practice that trait.
“If you’re so dead set on keeping her, that’s fine. But you’re responsible for her, and that means I’ll be as likely to take her mistakes out of your butt as reprimand her.”
“What a soft heart you have,” Jocelyn purred sweetly. “You have no idea how relieved she’ll be.”
“One promise, though,” he said in his unwavering cold tone.
“What’s that?”
“No more vacations without me.”
“Is that an edict?”
“It is. I’m not going to have you run off disturbing my well ordered life, unless I’m running off with you.”
“You really missed me, didn’t you?”
“If you want me to say I’m miserable without you, I never will. But it doesn’t do me much good to get unreasonably horny when the object of my intentions is unavailable. Just so you understand how strong my feelings are about this, you’re likely to have your bottom sore for the rest of the week just because I need more revenge.”
“You mean that?”
“I do.”
She pulled away from his arms enough to flee toward the staircase. She was out of reach when she got to them, though Reggie was on her heels. He tackled her on the top of the stairs and spanked her ass hard with his hand before she escaped again. On the bed, she didn’t mind being at his mercy; and as usual, Reggie was as deft raising a stinging burn with the palm of his hand as he’d been with the leather paddle.
“You’re going to have me looking like raw meat!” she finally wailed.
“Good, there’s nothing I like better than to see the aftereffects on your unruly ass.” He smacked her twice more.
Pulling her into his arms, he was more subdued, an occasional smack or grim squeeze all that remained of his intent to punish her. A second hard-on, a ready cunt, the two clutched each other tightly as they let the other side of their love begin to freely flow. Such gentleness from a source so fierce was the treasure Jocelyn waited for, and the treasure that would make this coming home complete.
How it fit in her life, next to seven days of tenderness with Alex Kozak, was a matter to consider another day. For the moment, she had all she wanted.
***
The cafe was small, and the two chose a table in the loft, away from the bustle below, where just a few others ventured for a more leisurely lunch.
“I’ve missed you,” Alex said. She looked in Jocelyn’s eyes, seeing a happy contentment there. “But I don’t suppose you’ve missed me. I bet you and Reg have been all over each other.”
“The first night was wild, and last night he tied me to the bedrail before he spanked me.”
“You’re getting spanked?” Alex mused enviously.
“Oh, he was pissed about our new maid, and I’m paying for her mistakes.”
“Why doesn’t she pay?”
“Because he has more fun punishing me.”
“I can see that.”
“How long is this going to go on?”
“Until Reggie decides I’ve paid enough.”
Alex took a deep breath and sighed. “Damn, this talk is making me horny.”
“Will still has what? A couple of weeks?”
“At least. I talked to him last night. Got him off over the phone before he laid on another blow. They like his work so much that they want him to continue for the rest of the month.”
“Maybe you should have taken your vacation in Alaska?”
“It’s too late now. Besides, I don’t regret a moment of our time in California. You still feel the same, or has being back in Reggie’s control turned all your lust for him?” The longing in her eyes was hard to miss.
“You know, Alex, I thought it might, but…” Jocelyn shook her head and smirked. “What do you say we take the afternoon off?”
“You can do that?”
“I had a client cancel.”
“Well ordinarily I never could. But I’m supposed to go to a dentist appointment from here. I could call and tell them I’m sick. That is, if you really want to…”
“Your apartment?” Jocelyn asked.
“Too far,” Alex said.
Jocelyn gazed out the window, at the neon light from a city hotel blinking even in the bright sun. “Do you suppose it’s clean?”
“How clean is clean? Doesn’t hurt to look.”
The hotel had a mellow look, sort of dog-eared with age, but it was clean enough to screw in, no bedbugs, white sheets and a cleanly swept floor, even though they weren’t planning on hitting the floor during this rendezvous.