Bared and Tamed

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Bared and Tamed Page 6

by Kallista Dane


  Rylie spent another sleepless night. She didn’t know which hurt more—the burning of her newly spanked ass or the equally painful sting of his frank assessment of her character. The worst part of it all was that Sullivan was right. Deep down, she was furious with herself for behaving so stupidly that she’d nearly destroyed her career. She should be grateful. Sullivan was giving her a way to salvage it. All she had to do was abide by a few simple rules for the next six months and swallow her stubborn refusal to let anyone boss her around.

  He’s not being unreasonable, she assured herself. I needed to quit drinking. It’s too dangerous for me. I don’t handle booze well. And cussing has never resolved any disagreement I’ve ever had. It just escalates a bad situation, making it worse.

  The next day at work, Sullivan was once again friendly and businesslike. Rylie tried to pretend everything was fine with her as well. But it was difficult, since every time she sat down, her sore bottom reminded anew of the helplessness and humiliation she felt draped over the arm of his loveseat while he spanked her, then paddled her ass. And all the while, his parting words rang in her head.

  Although it meant swallowing her pride once again, this time Rylie ducked into the restroom before leaving work and pulled off her panties, stuffing them deep into her leather shoulder bag. It would be just like him to check to see if she was following his ridiculous rules. She checked to see if the door was locked, then pulled up her skirt to peek in the mirror, checking to see if her ass still bore the marks of last night’s punishment. To her surprise, there wasn’t a mark on her.

  She pulled out her cell phone, found the selfie he’d sent her the other night. There she was, the proud and haughty R. L. Duncan, draped over his lap like some naughty schoolgirl, her skirt pulled up and her naked ass turning bright red. She shivered as a hot flash of arousal poured through her. Admit it, Rylie, whispered the woman looking back at her in the photo. You’ve always longed for a man who was stronger than you, a man who would take charge. Now you found one. You may not like all the things he demands of you, but now that you’ve had a taste of being submissive, deep down you know you want more.

  When she pulled up in the driveway, Sullivan was waiting at the door. His first words hardly came as a shock.

  “Turn around and pull up your skirt.”

  She gave him a nasty look, but turned her back and slowly pulled her skirt up just above her thighs, then let it drop back in place.

  “Good. I see you’ve taken me seriously this time. Can I get you a cup of tea or a soda before we start work?”

  “No, thank you,” she replied, her tone icy.

  Sullivan acted as though he didn’t notice, leading her back to his office once again. They settled into work, dealing with a pile of routine correspondence. Despite her resolve, she found that she couldn’t stay angry with him. He was intelligent and amusing and by the end of the evening, she found herself laughing as he described his latest very picky residential client.

  “Thank heaven I have Ashlaigh to run interference for me,” he said. “I find I don’t have the patience to deal with the minor details of these residential jobs. There were times when I wanted to hang that guy upside down over the 30th floor balcony and ask him if he liked the view any better from that angle! That girl is a pleasure to work with. She dresses with the artistic flair of a rebel, but when she gets down to business she’s extremely competent and so well-organized she puts me to shame.”

  Rylie felt a stab of envy. Had Ashlaigh struggled to uphold the same rigid guidelines that she herself was expected to abide by as a condition of her employment? Or was the girl’s personality simply more compliant and easy-going? Oddly, she found herself desiring Sullivan’s approval, wanting to hear him describe her with the same warmth in his voice, instead of ripping off her carefully created mask and pointing out her character flaws, as he had last night.

  Over the next few days, they settled into a routine. By Friday, Rylie could have sworn that the man who spanked her so harshly was a figment of her imagination. He hadn’t embarrassed her again by checking to see if she was wearing panties, and whether in the office or at his home, Sullivan was polite, friendly, and all business. In her haste to beat the Friday night rush-hour traffic, she dashed out of the office without stopping to take off the forbidden underwear.

  She knocked on the door and heard “Come in,” from down the hall. He was still in his dress shirt and slacks, sitting on one of the big leather sofas in the living room as he set the DVR to record a Knicks/Heat game later that night.

  “Do you like basketball?” he asked.

  “I used to enjoy going to my high school games. But for me, watching a game on TV doesn’t have the same impact it does when you feel the bleachers rock beneath you as the whole crowd starts chanting and stomping their feet in unison.”

  He laughed. “You’re one of those people who have to see and touch and feel every experience to get a thrill out of it. It’s been a long week,” he went on, heading down the hall to the office. “Let’s get tonight’s work out of the way so we can both enjoy the next couple of days.”

  She dragged the wooden chair near the desk and prepared to sit down, but he stopped her.

  “First, I want you to pull up your skirt and show me you’ve been obeying the rules.”

  Rylie swallowed. Damn. She should have guessed he’d pick a night at random to check up on her. She stood there unmoving, uncertain of how to get herself out of this predicament.

  “I… uh, I dashed out of the office tonight and completely forgot,” she stammered. “But I’ll take them off right now.”

  “Yes. You will.” There was no hint in his voice of the friendly co-worker she’d just been speaking with. He was cold, hard.

  “I’m disappointed in you, Rylie. I thought we were establishing trust in our relationship. I thought I could believe that when you gave your word, you’d keep it.”

  He looked at her silently for a moment. Then, as though he’d made up his mind about something, he went on. “I think we need to cancel tonight’s work session. Apparently there’s something more important we need to do. Pull up your skirt and take off those panties.”

  Rylie complied, her hands shaking. She knew she’d earned herself another painful spanking. This time, he didn’t allow her any dignity. He stared openly, his eyes following every inch of the skirt as she slowly pulled it up to her waist. When she began sliding the black lace panties down, he held out his hand to take them from her.

  “I want you to walk down the hall, go out the door, and get into my car. We’re going on a little shopping trip. Leave your skirt pulled up,” he commanded sharply when she began smoothing it down. “Tuck it into your waistband in back so your ass is completely exposed.”

  “But I can’t walk out the door like this!”

  “You can and you will,” he replied sternly. “And you’ll sit in the car that way too, with your bare ass touching the leather seat… as a reminder of what’s in store for you later.”

  Rylie was panicking as she paraded down the hall in front of him, her naked bottom on full display. She was certainly in for a spanking, but whatever else he had in mind had her stomach fluttering. He got into the car without another word and headed back to the highway.

  He pulled off a few minutes later, parking the car in front of one of those windowless stores dotted here and there at the exits on the interstate that advertised ‘Adult Movies and Toys.’ Theirs was the only car in the parking lot, but Rylie saw a couple of big rigs parked out back.

  “Stay here,” he ordered.

  Within a few minutes, he was back, opening her door as he spoke.

  “Come inside.”

  Rylie stepped out of the car, reaching behind her with one hand to pull down the back of her skirt.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.”

  She stared at him, her eyes wide with apprehension.

  “I know the guy who runs this place. I explained I have a lady with me who broke one of my basic
rules and has already consented to accept whatever discipline I see fit to administer. You’re going inside to pick out the implement for the spanking you’ll get tonight. He’s agreed to accommodate us and lock the door so we can shop privately. But your ass will stay bared the whole time.”

  Rylie didn’t think she could blush any redder than she had the last time he made her take off her clothes. But the thought of appearing in a public place with her bottom on display had her hot with shame.

  “Please, no, please.”

  “I’m sorry, Rylie. But you continually test me and refuse to do as you’re told. I guess it’s like a basketball game for you—you have to experience everything firsthand to make it real to you. Be a woman of your word. Do as you’re told, the way you agreed to when we struck this deal. Now get out of the car.”

  She already knew that when he got that tone in his voice, no pleading or begging would change his mind. Nervously she got out of the car and practically ran the few steps from the parking lot to the door. It was locked, but when Sullivan pressed the buzzer, she heard a click and the door opened.

  Rylie had never been in a sex shop and she furtively peered around. The place was well-lit, with fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling every few feet. There didn’t seem to be any dark corner where she could hide. A skinny man with his hair drawn back in a graying ponytail met them at the door. He was dressed in a faded Metallica t-shirt and a pair of jeans that sagged over his bony frame.

  “Place is all yours, Mr. Sullivan. Take your time. Look around. There’s a couple of truckers still here, checking out the new movies in back. They’re regular customers of mine, won’t cause you any trouble. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Thanks, Max. I wouldn’t want you to lose any business because of us. If you can assure me that they’ll be discreet, it’s fine with me if they stay.”

  Rylie kept her head down. The man called Max still hadn’t looked directly at her, but she could feel his eyes ogling her exposed bottom as she followed Sullivan down one of the aisles.

  Rylie thought her embarrassment could get no worse. But when Sullivan stopped in front of a display of whips and paddles, blindfolds and handcuffs, she blanched.

  “What do you think of these, Rylie?”

  “Do you mind if we try one of them out?” he called out over his shoulder to Max.

  “Help yourself,” Max replied casually, as if it was an everyday occurrence to have a bare-bottomed woman get spanked in his store. Of course, since she’d never been inside one of those places, for all Rylie knew, it was.

  Sullivan’s voice was low behind her. “Pick one out, Rylie—or I will,” he murmured in her ear, sliding his hand over her naked ass. “But if I do, I’ll have to bend you over and give you a whack or two with several of them before I make up my mind.”

  Hands shaking, she passed over the long wooden paddles and the big leather-wrapped ones, settling on a flat wooden hairbrush with a square surface. That little thing couldn’t hurt too badly, she decided. They headed for the counter, where Sullivan paid for the hairbrush. He insisted that Rylie carry the brush out to the car herself. Before they left, Max winked and handed him a package. Apparently Sullivan had done some shopping of his own before coming out to the car to get her.

  To her dismay, the two truckers picked that moment to head for the counter with their purchases. One of them let out a low whistle and nudged the other.

  Sullivan turned to them. “Sorry you had to see this, boys,” he called out. “My lady needs a good spanking tonight and she begged me to buy her a new paddle first. Didn’t you, darlin’?” he said, turning to Rylie.

  Something snapped inside her. R. L. Duncan had had enough. She decided right then and there that she would not allow Sullivan to embarrass her any further, at least not this time. Turning to the men, she winked. “That’s right, baby. And then it will be your turn to bend across my lap, just the way you like.”

  Sullivan laughed and gave her butt a playful swat as she sashayed out the door, leaving the two men looking longingly after her. They got back in the car and he was still laughing as they drove away.

  “I didn’t see that one coming,” he chuckled. “I’m not sure what those men would have wished for more—to be spanking your luscious ass or to feel their hard cocks rubbing against your lap while you smacked them good and hard.”

  “They were a couple of perverts—just like you.”

  “I keep telling you, darlin’, there’s nothing perverted about a healthy male enjoying the sight of a naked bottom wiggling around on his lap while he brings a nice blush to those curvy cheeks. By the way,” he added, watching out of the corner of his eye to see her reaction, “I didn’t know you were so knowledgeable about the lifestyle. You had it right back there. Some big tough guys secretly get off on the idea of being the spankee instead of the spanker.”

  Despite her earlier show of bravado, Rylie was embarrassed again. Talking so openly with Sullivan about spanking was uncomfortable, but at the same time the thought of being made to lie naked across his lap again was turning her on. Still, she couldn’t help taunting him. “So there are other guys like you, guys who like getting spanked as well as spanking?” she asked.

  His voice took on that stern tone again, but this time it sent a shiver of arousal through her. “I guarantee you, R. L. Duncan, there will never come a day when I’ll want to switch places with where you’re going to be in a few minutes.”

  Too soon, they were back in his driveway. This time, Sullivan came around and opened the car door for her. Rylie was quaking inside as she headed up the flagstone walkway to the front door. She had no idea what was in the bag Sullivan carried, but there were some bizarre sex toys for sale at that shop, things she’d never seen before.

  Up till now, her experiences with physical intimacy were pretty basic. She’d had only a couple of sex partners over the years. Looking back, it was hardly fair to call them lovers. For the most part, she’d called the shots, deciding when and how they would have sex. One of the men she had a brief fling with was self-centered, caring only for his own gratification, but the other tried to see that she was pleasured too. Sex with him was good, sometimes really good, but she’d never understood why people made such a fuss about it.

  But with Sullivan, it was clear there was no way he’d ever allow her to be the one in control. The other night had been the most mind-blowing sexual experience she’d ever had. It was wild and raw. He’d spanked her ass hard, but then he made the intense burning morph into a different kind of heat. He ran his hands over every inch of her body while she was powerless to resist. He teased her, tormented her, and then took her forcefully, awakening a savage hunger inside that she never knew existed. She wanted more, needed more. But even as she craved it, she was terrified of giving up control, of losing herself.

  He stopped her in the front hall as she headed for the office.

  “Take off all your clothes. Now.”

  She looked at him in confusion. “Here?”

  “You’re going to be naked when you’re in my house from now on. If you can’t be trusted to leave your panties off like I asked, then you’ll simply have to take off all your clothes. It’s the only way I can be sure you’re obeying me. Now strip.”

  I should be used to this by now, Rylie thought. But for some reason, every time Sullivan demanded that she take off any item of clothing, she felt herself blushing like a shy schoolgirl. It was different from stripping in front of a lover, rushing to remove all those pesky garments while he did the same. Sullivan made her feel sinfully naked, his dark eyes devouring her every move as she unzipped, unbuttoned, unfastened, while he stood there fully clothed.

  Once again she was standing in front of him wearing only her shoes. Tonight they were open-toed black leather pumps that left her bright red toenails peeking out—one of her few concessions to female vanity. Sullivan gave her a slow, steamy head-to-toe appraisal that had her suddenly aware of how wet her pussy was getting.

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nbsp; “I think we’ll have tonight’s session upstairs. You go first—so I can take full advantage of the view. Be sure to bring that hairbrush.” His voice was low, sending shivers down her spine.

  She clutched the open railing with one hand, grateful for the support it gave to her shaky legs. Sullivan stayed back, allowing her to get halfway up before he followed. The long, curving stairway seemed endless and she was painfully self-conscious, aware that every time she lifted her leg to take the next step, he had a full view of not only her bare bottom, but the tangled thatch of curls nestled between her legs.

  She stopped at the top of the stairs, facing a long hallway with doors opening off both sides.

  “Head straight down to the end of the hall.”

  Her footsteps were muffled by the long Oriental runner leading to a set of double doors. Rylie paused and Sullivan reached around her to open the doors wide.

  It was a large room with a high ceiling. But all Rylie saw was the huge bed with four corner posts made of stripped pine logs. The headboard was tall, a thick slab of polished wood. Gnarled laurel branches twined across the top, while more branches decorated the footboard in a crooked row. The mattress was so high that a rustic two-step wooden footstool stood along one side. A caramel suede comforter was tossed over the bed, with fluffy white pillows piled at the head.

  Still carrying the package he’d gotten from the manager of the adult store, Sullivan took her by the hand and led her to the bed. He put down the package. Then, standing in front of her, he took off his dress shirt. Rylie drew in her breath. His body was everything she’d imagined in her late-night fantasies. Long and lean, wide shoulders and a broad, well-muscled torso with a patch of dark hair on his chest that narrowed into a thin line before it disappeared under the belt of his slacks. Just for a moment, she had a vision of kneeling over him while he was the one lying naked on the bed, driving him wild as she traced that line of hair with her tongue.

  Sullivan was tall enough to easily sit on the edge of the high mattress. He held out his hand. “Give me the brush, then come here and lie across my lap.”

 

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