The Elliot Silvestri Erotic Reader Volume 6

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The Elliot Silvestri Erotic Reader Volume 6 Page 65

by Elliot Silvestri


  “You were very popular at the party last week,” he said casually as he lifted the paddle.

  “I was?” she asked. It was surprising to hear.

  Before Nick could answer the paddle came down with an audible smack and she gasped at the thrill of pain. “Very popular according to Helena.”

  “That’s good right?” she managed to ask.

  “Very good.” The paddle came down again, this time only on her right cheek, and she let out a low, murderous groan. “They want to know when you’ll be back.”

  “They do?” she asked, unable to think any further.

  SMACK! This time the paddle came down on her left cheek. The burn was coming.

  “Yes. Very much. I told you redheads were popular. You can make money off this, you know.”

  “The pleasure is enough,” she said airily.

  Almost as if trying to contradict her Nick landed the paddle again, this time at the crease between thighs and buttock. She let out one sobbing gasp. “You need to find a partner who will do this for you for free,” he said.

  “This is better than seeing a shrink,” she said and ducked her head down to her hands where she was clutching the rubber-coated grips.

  CRACK! This time the paddle hit where it had first landed. Tears were flowing out of her eyes now, but she wasn’t sobbing. It was a strange, lovely sensation.

  “Probably cheaper too,” Nick said.

  “If only my mental health insurance would pay for a well-trained sadist to center me for the week,” she half-joked.

  WHACK! “Or a lousy one. The regular health insurance will cover the damage.”

  She wanted to laugh, but the noise wouldn’t come out. “Jesus! You’re going to make me cum just from paddling.”

  “Would you like that?” Smack! It was starting to hurt less and feel better. She looked forward to the next impact.

  “Fuck yes.”

  CLAP! He caught her flesh perfectly. “You’ll make someone very happy someday,” he commented, resting his hand on her hot ass. His palm felt cool atop the abused flesh.

  “I think I might have found someone,” she blurted out. It was strange how the paddle loosened her lips and brought out the truth in her.

  “Oh?” he asked, intrigued. SMACK! She wanted him to stop now…but to keep going as well. Rhette sucked in a breath and did everything she could to keep from gasping and sobbing.

  “Yes. His name is Jordan.” Why was she being so honest and open. This was none of Nick’s business.

  “Does he like spanking you?” CRACK! The last blow sent a surge of energy to her pussy. She was already on the edge of cumming. What was wrong with her?

  “Sort of. He’s…getting into it.”

  Nick smiled. She couldn’t see his smile, but she sensed it. Or maybe she wanted to sense it. The whole situation was fucked up, as normal.

  WHACK! She hated it when he hit the tops of her thighs. It was just pain and no pleasure was transmitted to her pussy. “I have something special to give to you then.”

  “You do? What?”

  SMACK! CRACK! “I’ll give it to you when we’re done here.”

  “What is it?” Rhette’s curiosity was killing her. It was worse than the paddle.

  CLAP! She sobbed and suddenly all her emotions, pent up and barely under control, flowed out with tears and sobs and crying. It was terrible and wonderful at the same time. This was what she came to Nick for. Her body knew what she needed more than she did.

  “You’ll see.” SMACK!

  “Jesus fuck!”

  “There’s something else.”

  “There is? What?” CRACK! “Jesus fucking Christ!”

  “Remember the guy who fucked you?”

  “Riordan? Yes.” SMACK! “Jesus’s hairy balls!”

  “He asked about you.”

  “So?” CRACK! “Shit!”

  “He wants to take you out on a date.”

  The words hit her ears stronger than Nick’s final smack to her ass. Her tears were flowing easily and her body was shuddering. She had cum and didn’t even realize it. It was the worst thing ever, except it was the best thing at the same time. She had no idea how long it was before she could speak. She had lost all control of her body.

  “A fucking date?” she asked, stunned.

  “I think his words were: ‘A proper date, a proper spanking, and a proper fuck.’ He expects you go put out.” Nick paused. “Did you already cum?”

  “Yeah. Jesus that was the best and the worst orgasm I’ve ever had. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with you,” he reassured her. “Cool towel or hot?”

  A hot towel would bring out her bruises. The cool one would soothe her. She didn’t care about bruises. “Cool.”

  “What should I tell Riordan?”

  Rhette started laughing and then moaned in pleasure as he draped a wet, cool towel across her ass. “I’m sort of seeing someone,” she reminded him. “Jordan. Remember?”

  “How could I forget?” Nick asked as he hung up the long paddle and examined his rack of pleasure-inducing torture implements. “I’m pretty sure that Riordan isn’t hung up on you being exclusive to him.” A thought occurred to Nick. “Or does Jordan want that?”

  “I don’t know what he wants,” Rhette said honestly and levered herself up from the spanking bench. There was no need to jill off now; Nick had made her cum. She carefully pulled up her panties, making sure the thin string went between her buttocks. That wasn’t something she had to worry about two months ago.

  “So go on a date with Riordan. Drinks and dinner.”

  “And then a spanking and a fuck,” she reminded him.

  “You’ve already done two of those four things with him already.”

  Rhette had the good manners to blush at his reminder. She wasn’t truly ashamed…but it was a verbal reminder that she wasn’t the same person she had been just a few months ago.

  “Okay. Set it up for me.”

  Nick smiled, happy with her answer. He then handed her a paddle. It was roughly the same size and shape as a ping-pong paddle, only covered with burgundy leather with a heart-shaped hole cut in the middle. It was odd to say the least. “I’ll do that.”

  “What’s this,” she said, indicating the paddle now in her hand.

  “It’s for Jordan. He’ll need to get used to using it on you if you plan on continuing to…date him.”

  Rhette swallowed. “I can’t accept a present like this.” Was it really a present? She pushed it back at him.

  Nick put his hands behind his back. “I made it a couple of years ago. It never sold. It’s just taking up space in my workshop. Take it. Have him use it on you. If he can’t…well, then maybe he’s not the guy for you.”

  Rhette had to admit that Nick was right on that issue. If Jordan couldn’t paddle and spank her the way she needed their relationship was doomed.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was easily the nicest restaurant Rhette had been inside in…well, forever. She knew that Riordan had money, after all, she had been inside his house, and she had been expecting something nice, but she was determined not to let herself be impressed by him flaunting his cash.

  And, oddly, he didn’t. The place was nice, but not ostentatious. The food was good, but not overly expensive. She even glanced at the wine list and saw that he didn’t even try to impress her by ordering the most expensive bottle in the house. He let her choose what she wanted.

  Riordan was, by her initial measure, the sort of polite, well-manner, and modest man that she would have done anything to date. Except he was easily ten and probably fifteen years older than her. His silver hair was distinguished, but she wasn’t sure she wanted distinguished in a boyfriend. She wasn’t that old…yet.

  “Thanks again for agreeing to see me,” he said. They were finishing dinner and she was tempted by the thought of having a rich dessert, but had already decided against it. He didn’t need to see a fat girl eating more than she sh
ould and she didn’t want to be overly full when they went back to his place for the evening’s entertainment. A nervous thought occurred to her. What if he wanted to go back to her place? It was nice but he’d probably be put off by her modest lifestyle. Rhette forced herself to remain calm.

  “Why wouldn’t I accept a date from a very nice man?” she said. It wasn’t exactly a lie and she hoped that Nick hadn’t told Riordan every detail of their conversation.

  “Because some people are leery of dating inside our…our group. Some people like their kinks to be one part of their lives and their romantic attachments to be another part,” he explained.

  That didn’t make much sense to Rhette, but she just nodded her head in agreement and went along with him. She hated how he spoke openly about the both of them having a kink. No one in the restaurant had a reason to be eavesdropping, but that didn’t mean they weren’t. “I see. I’m new to all that.”

  “I know,” he said confidently. “Speaking of which, I’d like to take you back to my place for a repeat performance.” His smile broadened. “If you’d like.”

  Deep in her heart, and elsewhere in her body, Rhette liked that very much.

  He drove a Mercedes, because of course he did. She followed him in her little Ford Fusion that was white and boring, at least that’s what it looked like. He led her back to his house and she found her pussy was soaking through her panties. She wouldn’t have been surprised to look down at the driver’s seat of her car and see a wet spot. He parked in the garage; she parked behind him in the driveway, blocking him in. He beckoned to her inside the garage. The moment she stepped inside the garage, which looked more like an automobile showroom than a proper garage, he activated the automatic door closer. For just a second she started to feel trapped, but then she realized she was there for a reason and she wasn’t a woman who moped around and was scared for no good reason. Nick and Helena wouldn’t have sent her here if it wasn’t safe.

  She noticed he wore driving gloves even though the weather was warm. He didn’t take them off even as they headed inside the house. He hadn’t forgotten about them; he was wearing them for a good reason.

  They both knew why she was there and a tour or formalities weren’t needed.

  “Where are we going to do this?” she asked, almost too eager to take off her dress and show off the lingerie she had worse for this special occasion. “Living room? Bedroom? Secret sex dungeon room in your basement?” She smiled and tried to adopt an attitude that she was eager for this to happen. It was easy because she was eager.

  “We’ve already done it in the living room,” Riordan observed as he adjusted his blazer. Somehow he managed to dress casually yet still looked completely put together and ready to either enter a boardroom full of stockholders or relax on the poolside deck of a resort. “And I don’t have a secret sex dungeon in the basement. That’s for next year’s remodel. So…”

  “So the bedroom it is,” she said, casting her eyes around the central room of the house, looking for an obvious path to the bedroom. “Where is it?”

  He smiled and gently took her arm; together they walked what seemed a circuitous path through the house, up a set of stairs, down a short hallway, and through a door into a rather modest bedroom. Rhette was confused at first, and then she puzzled it out. This wasn’t his actual bedroom, the place he slept. It was a guest room or maybe the place where he brought all his dates to fuck them and not actually have them enter the most private part of his life. That was fine with Rhette; she wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship with him. This was just going to be one date.

  And then he turned to her and asked, “Are you comfortable with this? I don’t want you doing something out of a misplaced sense of obligation.”

  “Oh no,” she said quickly. “I want to do this.”

  “You do?” he asked, more than a drop of skepticism in his voice.

  And she realized that maybe this encounter had the potential for so much more. His money and easy attitude were comforting. She wasn’t going to marry him, just date him.

  That’s what she told herself as she turned to face him and reached behind her back to lower the zipper to her dress and let it fall to the floor. It probably would have gone a little more elegantly if she didn’t have so many generous curves, but he had seen her naked before—he had fucked her before!—so she wasn’t letting him see anything he wasn’t already familiar with.

  The bra was big enough to contain her tits. Red and black lace seemed like s sexy, safe choice. Her panties were barely there; it was a thong matching her bra, red and black, see-through, and really nothing more than a scrap of material to claim she hadn’t gone out in public without any underwear. Her mother would have been mortified either way because no panties was certainly a sin and the panties she was wearing was worse than sin because she intended to sin while wearing them.

  Sometimes Rhette hated it that her mother could still get inside her head without the slightest bit of effort.

  Pushing the thought aside, she pivoted around, showing off her ample assets to Riordan, bending ever so slightly forward which took advantage of her heels.

  “Yes,” she said confidently. “I want to do this. I want you to spank my ass and then fuck me. That is why you kept the gloves on, isn’t it?” She smiled knowingly at him and sauntered to the bed. It was fun to take on a role that was not her normal self. It was fun to do it this way because she could just walk away at any point and not look back and not have any regrets.

  “Yes, it is,” he replied. His eyes were riveted to her backside. Clearly he was an ass man.

  “How do you want me?” she asked. The bed in the room was tall and she placed her hands on the mattress. It angled her ass further upward and Rhette wiggled it a bit. Her panties were completely soaked now. She could smell her desire and was certain Riordan could as well.

  “No, not like that,” he said quickly. For the first time there was the slightest bit of doubt and uncertainty in his voice, which puzzled her. All he had to do was ask and she’d do whatever he wanted.

  “How do you want me then?” she repeated.

  Clearing his throat, he said, “Let me sit down and I want you across my lap.”

  “Sure.” She gestured expansively to the bed and waited for him.

  Riordan took his time, first shucking off his blazer and tossing it aside before kicking off his shoes and seating himself far enough back on the bed that she’d have room to lay across his legs.

  While Rhette wasn’t that heavy, she was a bit nervous about this intimate position he wanted. Still, she wanted it almost as much as he did and they got into their positions easily enough. Her warm belly pressed into his legs and he tentatively rested on gloved hand on her right ass cheek.

  “Taking your time?” she teased him.

  “Savoring the moment.”

  Rhette tensed her buttock, making them move beneath his hands. “I want you to turn my ass red,” she told him. “And don’t stop if I start crying. I like it when I cry.”

  “You do?”

  “It helps me cum.”

  “That’s…unusual.”

  “No. Go ahead and say it. It’s fucked up.”

  He ran his leather-covered fingers along the edge of her thong, tracing the fabric down into her crevice, but not deeply, and then back up again. He wasn’t probing, he was playing. “I don’t want to judge.”

  “I was raised by parents who were borderline crazy with religion.”

  “I suppose they don’t approve of your kinks…and I suppose they don’t know about your kinks.”

  “I barely speak to them any longer,” she said. “We have a lot of other differences as well.” She inhaled deeply. He was taking too long. “I didn’t come here to talk about my parents. I came to get my ass spanked and then fucked.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Are you going to keep up your part of that agreement?”

  Riordan brought his hand down sharply on her ass. The impact stung. She loved it and
sucked in her breath to savor the flare of pain. “Yesss…more, please.”

  Her date was no stranger to the fine erotic art of spanking. While his skills might not measure up to what Nick could do, he knew how to smack her ass with just the right amount of force to make it sting and to make it thud through her body. It was heavenly. Rhette kept her thighs together because that way she could give herself a little friction on her clit. She would have tried to rub it on his thigh, but that proved to be impossible.

  In no time at all her ass was burning from the spanking and she was breathing in short little gasps. There were no tears, not yet, but she was clutching the sheets and felt humiliated like she had so many times when she was little and corporal discipline was the order of the day.

  He paused and she immediately begged, “Keep going.”

  “Can I take off your thong?” he asked.

  She didn’t like that he asked permission. She would have preferred that he just take the initiative and do it. Being polite put them on equal footing and she wanted to be submissive to him. “Do it,” she begged.

  He pulled them down, but only to mid-thigh. That was more than enough for Rhette and she parted her thighs as much wide as her panties allowed.

  Riordan gave her another smart slap on the ass for that. “What are you doing?” he abruptly demanded. Before she could gather her thoughts he continued on. “You don’t spread your legs and invite me to fuck you! When I’m giving you a seeing to, you take it and remember to behave like a lady!” He punctuated his point with another smart slap. She gasped at the impact.

  “Sorry!” she gasped.

  “You will be!” he promised. Ripping of a glove, he shoved his hand between her legs. Three fingers easily fit into her pussy while the pinky touched her clit and his thumb pressed against his asshole. That was unexpected.

  “Don’t,” she begged.

  Ignoring her plea, Riordan forced his thumb into her ass. She whimpered…and discovered it wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought it would be and she rather enjoyed the uninvited penetration.

 

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