by John Rivers
She looked at him with a puzzled grin.
“No, I’m just joking,” Gordon admitted as his hand made a circular motion over her butt. “It just works better. It a lot easier to mount without clothes. Then once you do, not only will your bottom be turned up, but you can place a breast on each side instead of mashing them into the top. That way, I can get to them if you like.”
God. He’s getting me even hotter just talking about it.
“In other words, if I take off my clothes, we can use it?”
“Absolutely.”
“I suppose I can do that.”
Without further discussion. Lana removed her blouse, unhooked her bra and pushed her skirt to the floor.
“There’s hangers over against the wall if you like to hang up your things,” Gordon informed her as she scooped her panties from the floor.
Lana was a little self-conscious as she turned her nude back and behind to this man she’d never seen before today. She could feel his eyes on her bottom as she moved across the floor. On the other hand, no doubt he saw a lot of naked women.
Five minutes later, Lana lay face down on the “horse.” The way the elbow-rest was lower than the knee-rest thrust her bottom up wantonly. She had to admit it was more comfortable. In the very center of the apparatus a large leather strap was attached on both sides. Bringing the straps from either side, Gordon buckled them about the center of her back. She hadn’t realized she would be strapped atop the device, but she offered no objection. That was somewhat of a turn-on in itself.
Once she was strapped in, reaching from behind, Gordon grasped a breast in each hand and made sure they were free and hanging downward rather than underneath her chest. Before releasing them, he pressed each nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Already, she felt herself becoming wet between her legs. She wondered if Gordon would be able to see it. Surely he would.
This wasn’t what she had asked for, but damn, this was better and she was enjoying it a lot more.
“How do you like that?”
“I love it,” she allowed, then added, “I didn’t expect to have my butt turned up like this, but I suppose I’ll get used to it.”
“Would you prefer I don’t look?” he laughingly asked.
“No, I guess it’s all right. You can look.” When she chuckled, she felt the strap tighten across her back.
Now that she was situated on the horse, she was more on her knees than not. In this position, her vagina was prominently presented to this man who was about to take care of her bottom. She hadn’t considered showing herself in such a wanton manner, but now that she was, she loved it.
He begun by kneading her buttocks again. In this positon, the fleshy orbs were firmer, allowing him to cup one in each hand. As he rotated his hands, his thumbs would enter the crevice between them, lightly touching her most intimate area. Sometimes he would pause, leaving the crevice expanded, exposing her vagina and anus even more. After several minutes of this, he resumed the light spanking.
Lana now wondered if she was dripping and if so, had he taken note. Right now, she wished he would touch her pussy. It was right there for him to do so. Damn, how she wished he would rub her clit.
He paused the spanking. Using the thumb and forefinger of one hand, he separated her cheeks and brushed a finger lightly across her anus. This made her even hotter; she was all but ready to plead with him to do something to her center of pleasure. Resuming the kneading of her buttocks, it almost seemed as if he was torturing her; leaving her pussy to swelter in heat as he attended other areas that only excited it even more.
Just as she was about to say, Dammit, rub my pussy, for heaven sakes, he stopped kneading her nether cheeks. Placing a hand above her butt and on her lower back, he slowly massaged up her spine.
“Susan, you need to stop thinking about what you would like me to do to you. You need to relax and leave this job to me. I am the expert. What do you say?”
The best Lana could do was to whisper, “Ok.”
By now, Gordon had massaged her spine up to a point between her shoulder blades. Stopping there, he leaned over to place his arms about her upper body and grasped a breast in each hand. Much like he had done before, he rubbed the nipples firmly between a thumb and forefinger. Rather than doing it once as he had previously, he continued doing it.
Lana couldn’t take any more. “Please fuck me,” she pleaded, her faced buried in the padded covering.
Gordon chuckled. “Are you sure? You came here for only a light spanking. Remember?”
Lana might have tried to argue that a lot had change simply due to his attentiveness. That it was his fault she was all but out of control. She didn’t. All she could do was to hope for some type of release from this sweltering desire. Why can’t he rub my pussy? If it wasn’t for the damn strap about her waist, Lana would have reached between her legs and masturbated herself.
“You like being turned up like this?”
“Yes, dammit. Yes.”
“Well, Susan if you’ll bear with me and hold on a while, we have something here that will turn you up in the opposite direction. We’ll do that before we’re through.”
“Let’s do that then.”
“Not yet,” he laughed to say. “I’m not quite through here.”
With that, he released her breast. Stepping back to place himself behind her, he used his thumbs to separate the lips of her vagina. Holding them open for several agonizing and anticipating seconds, he turned and walked away. Turning her head to follow his retreating back, she watched him go to the far wall. For the second time, she noted the various size and shaped whips and such mounted there. She watched him select a rather short one with multiple strips of some type of material attached.
“Susan, this is more or less a play whip. It’s made of a soft material. It might sting just a little, but it won’t leave any marks. You’ve been a very naughty girl and I’m going to give you a thorough whipping. Then we’ll go over to the table with the two post.”
“Either rub my pussy or fuck me, dammit.”
Again, he laughed. “All in due time.” He brought the whip across her bottom. It had not only connected with her buttocks, but her vagina as well. It stung a little. Just enough to feel good. Slowly and hesitating between each lash, he brought it across her upper thighs several times. On more than a few occasions, a strand or two had connected with her vagina.
Working upward, he lashed her upper buttocks and continued up her back. Coming to an area between her shoulder blades, he stopped and laid the whip aside. Reaching from behind, he grasped her breasts again. This time he exerted more pressure as he pressed the nipples between his thumb and forefinger. After several minutes of this, he stopped.
Jamming the handle of the small whip into his hip pocket, he walked back behind her. She wasn’t sure what he was going to do for a moment, but then she felt him take the thumbs of each hand and spread her pussy wantonly wide. He held it open for a long agonizing time as if studying it. “Yes, ma’am, you are wet. I believe you’re enjoying this.” Releasing the lips of her vagina, he patted her on the butt.
“Ok. Are you ready to go to the table?”
Again, having all but lost not only her will, but her voice, she whispered that she was.
Helping her down, he took her by the hand and led her diagonal across the room and to the table with the two upright posts. Now that she could see it up close, she noted that it had two large straps with buckles about halfway up each side. It didn’t take a genius to realized how this apparatus was used.
She had just gone through the most degrading experience of her life. Now she was about to be postured in such a way that would be just as humiliating. What more, she was enjoying it.
“I want you to sit on the very edge. Then I want you to lie back and raise your legs,” Gordon instructed her.
Lying back, she raised her legs and spread them so her feet rested inside the uprights, splitting herself in a wantonly manner.
Once
she was reclined on the table, Gordon took each of her legs and placed them between the straps, which he then buckled. Once having her legs upraised and secured, he moved around the table and secured her hands with straps attached to the far side. With every intimate area of her body exposed, she could only imaging what kind of picture she presented. God, she would hate for anyone to know she had done this.
After securing her hands, Gordon wasn’t quite through with her. Moving back to the end of the table, he placed a hand on each side of her hips and pulled her to where her bottom extended at least six inches over the edge of the table. In this positon, not only was her pussy spread, but her cheeks as well, leaving her anal area exposed once he applied the whip again.
Finally, satisfied he had her positioned to be as humiliating as imaginable, he retrieved the whip for a hip pocket and begin to lash her bottom, striking not only her buttocks, but her anal and vaginal area as well. He brought the whip upward, striking her inner thighs. He then struck her lightly on her vagina and then her breasts. After a few minutes, he lay the whip aside and began attending her breasts with his hands.
“Please fuck me,” Lana whimpered, wishing her hands were free so she could touch herself.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
Sometime after that, Lana lost track of time, but if she had to guess, she would say she had been fucked for the better portion of an hour.
Chapter Two
The present:
“I’m thinking of buying a brothel,” Walter proclaimed across the supper table and over a plate of fettuccine. For once, he was home on time.
“A brothel?” Lana furrowed her brow to give him a puzzled look. “You are talking about for resale, right?”
“Nope. I’m thinking about keeping it.”
“How would you do that? The nearest place there could possibly be a brothel is fifty or sixty miles away.”
“You’re right,” Walter confirmed. “This one is about sixty miles from here. Just the other side of Pahrump. Rather than in Pahrump, it’s out in the desert.”
“Without asking, I have to assume someone else will run it for you. On the other hand, I know you’re not serious.”
“Ok. Here’s the deal. I can pick the place up for a song. A short song. It’s not like it’s not making money. The present owner wants to move up to the Carson City area. He bought a bigger place up there. There’s a woman already working there who will run it as well as serve the customers. For a bigger cut, naturally.”
“I guess the seller came in wanting to list the property and you decided you’d take it off his hand rather than selling it?” She looked at him under an upturned brow.
“That he did. He brought some pictures with him. I was enthralled when I saw the one of the house. It’s not the shabby, cinder block type like so many of these places. I’m sure you’ve seen pictures of brothels on television. You ever see the movie ‘The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas?’”
“I seem to recall it,” Lana curled her bottom lip and nodded.
“Well, it’s sort of like that. It’s an old Victorian two-story. Tell you what, I’ll bring the pictures home tomorrow.”
Lana nodded. Just for the heck of it, she decided to get in a dig. “Is Marla going to work there part-time?” she asked with a chuckle. Lana highly suspected Walter and Marla of pulling a little hanky-panky behind her back. In fact, it was more than suspicion. She was 99.9 percent sure. Marla had worked in Walter’s real estate office for a couple of years now. It was about the time Marla started work that Walter began coming home late. It just figured.
“Very funny,” was all Walter offered. He was a little sensitive about Marla.
Lana couldn’t have cared less. Not long after Walter had started coming home late, Lana had started doing her own thing. If it wasn’t for Walter expecting the evening meal to be placed on the table regardless of what time he might show up, it wouldn’t worry her one iota.
It wasn’t so much Walter’s shenanigans that brought about Lana’s decision to do her own thing as it was the point of mediocrity she felt her own life had reached. Lana was in her early forties. She would have passed for being in her early thirties. She still had much the same body she had when she was twenty-five and her face was just as pretty. Some people called her beautiful. She also had a few sexual urges that would never be taken care of by Walter. Most of those had either been latent or had only became fantasies once she knew they existed. Actually, if she had ever even heard of BDSM she had assumed it was something crazy people did. Somewhat like a nut beating his head against the wall of a padded cell.
“Years ago, before I even thought about coming to Nevada, I found it hard to believe these places exist in the modern-day world. I definitely never dreamed I would own one,” Walter was saying.
Lana had let her thoughts take her away for a moment.
“It sounds to me like it would just be one big headache,” Lana offered in response.
“It might be if it was something we were going to try to make a living with. As it is, the profit will go right into the bank. Other than the payments, of course.”
Lana couldn’t have cared less what kind of business Walter added to his small collection other than the fact it might be a losing proposition. From what she had heard, several of these places had closed or sold out a few years back. She happened to be flipping through the channels one night and caught an episode of “Cathouse” on HBO. She had watched it more out of curiosity than anything else. She certainly hadn’t cared to see Air Force Amie’s vagina. Now if there had been some guy displaying an enormous penis, she might have been a little more interested. Also, more out of curiosity than fantasy, she wondered what it would be like to work in one of these places. Somewhat like one might wonder what it would be like to fly a 747. Not that they ever intended doing it.
She dismissed the thought of Walter buying a “cathouse” once clearing the supper table. Walter’s real estate business provided them with a well above average standard of living and if he wanted to have his toys, that was his prerogative. After all, he provided her with the money to do what she did during the day while he was away. Some of his days extended into the night.
Lana started doing her thing about a year before. By then Walter had pretty much made it evident he was fooling around. It wasn’t like she had taken a lover, but things she considered a little more legitimate. Most of the gratification she had gotten came from the massage therapists. Male massage therapists. Lana had discovered they could do wonders for women who might or might not be getting as much as she felt she should. They could also do most anything under the sun and get by with it by calling it therapy.
Lana might not have given sex, or the fact she wasn’t getting any, a lot of thought had not there been a moment when that latent little nagging came to the surface. It was during one of her weekly get together with her three best friends. Every Wednesday afternoon they would meet at a different restaurant inside one of the casino on The Strip. That day they were at a back table in the Bellagio. After lunch, they were enjoying some drinks. Neither one of them were anything less than a little tipsy.
Tiffany, a lady a couple of years older than Lana asked the younger member of their group, Michell, how her birthday of the previous week had gone. Michell might have been in her mid-thirties.
It went great, Michell allowed.
Another of the friends asked what was the best present she had gotten.
Michell, likely having had one drink too many, set her glass on the table and chuckled. “The very best present was the bare-bottom birthday spanking Bill gave me.”
She couldn’t have explained why, but Lana vividly visualize that scenario. Damn, that had sounded so good. She suddenly visualized her own sex-starved and bare-bottomed butt across a man’s lap. If she had to put a face on that man, it wouldn’t be Walter’s.
“Is Bill going to be giving any more bare-bottom spanking anytime soon?” Tiffany giggled to ask. �
�I’d like to get one of those myself.”
That remark only served to indelibly burn the scene into Lana mind. As if something that had lain dormant inside her had suddenly stirred, she knew then and there she wanted a strange man to give her a bare-bottom spanking. Hell, considering how she felt right then, what with the drinks and all, she might let him do more than spank.
Later that day after the little get-together had broken up and Lana returned home she was still thinking about how much she would enjoy the scenario now etched in her brain. Even after the drinks had worn off, she still entertained the thought.
It was only sometime later that Lana gave thought to the fact one of her little penchants might make getting a spanking impractical. Up until recently, she had had only one fetish, even if one could call it a fetish. She was an exhibitionist. Not to any great extent, but she liked being nude since she had been old enough to know she shouldn’t be. Later, realizing that total nudity could be a pain in the ass and it wasn’t practical to even to sleep nude, she had found she like going bottomless. That way, she didn’t have to be concerned with her breast jiggling or getting in the way. In fact, she’d come to enjoying going bottomless much better than she enjoyed being totally nude. She had a given thought to how she would like to be bottomless in front of a strange male.
When she and Walter had first married, she slept in a regular length t-shirt, which allowed her to be bottomless to some extent. Later, she made certain the t-shirts were only long enough to cover her navel. When morning came, she didn’t bother to change. She would fix Walter’s breakfast and see him off to work while still bottomless. Of course, once Walter had left the house, she would put on her regular clothes. After all, if there were no one to see her, there was no sensation. As their children were growing up, she had abandoned the practice. Now that both kids were grown and on their own, she had resumed donning only a t-shirt sometime before bed time and until after Walter left the next morning.
Walter didn’t seem to even take notice now. He didn’t seem to show any interest in her naked butt which, along with her vagina, was presented to him every morning. Not that he made any objections, he just didn’t seem to care.