“Darren spanked me. I’m sure you don’t want to hear the details.”
Gina did! Was Suzie teasing her? “I’d like to. I mean, I don’t want to spoil your story.”
“Well, if you really want?”
Suzie made no attempt to continue. She was definitely teasing, forcing Gina to admit her interest. “Yes. Yes I do!”
“Of course, no girl likes to be spanked unless she is aroused. Darren certainly had me aroused. He had let me have my fun but I sensed that the foreplay was over. So, I spread my legs wide, clasp my ankles, follow his instructions exactly – with full knowledge that in so doing I reveal myself completely. Can you imagine how it feels to be exposed and totally at Darren’s mercy? Knowing how vulnerable you are. Knowing he can do whatever he desires.”
“I can imagine.” Gina drew open the zip of her trousers.
“Can you really?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Her trembling fingers stole inside.
“I had to fight the urge to flee.”
“You didn’t! I mean, you didn’t?”
“No. Darren stood beside me, ran a fingernail down the ridge of my spine, making me shiver, but I didn’t feel threatened. He touched my bottom, his hand steady while I trembled. Next to him the lewdness of my posture feels sublimely wicked. Of course, my exposure is part of his game. ‘You’ve been a naughty girl Suzie,’ he says, patting my bottom, ‘strutting around with no panties …’ I apologise, promise to be good. ‘I’m afraid your apology isn’t good enough. I must punish you. You are a blatant exhibitionist!’”
Gina was beginning to see Darren’s point. The whole time Suzie had been telling her story, she had made no effort to cover herself. Not that Gina had any complaints. The view from the front row was exquisite. “So Darren spanked you?”
“And how! I wait while he draws back his hand, holds for a moment – what seems an eternity – drawing my sense of trepidation. Making me wait. Making me want. Making me wet. So incredibly wet! He is in no hurry. Darren understands the power of anticipation. Can you imagine how it feels to wait like that? Knowing what is to come, but never when?”
Gina was vaguely aware that her fingers were moving of their own volition.
“The first sting of his hand brings tears to my eyes. He does not hold back and I almost lose my position. I am both shocked and delighted that he dare hurt me – this man who professes to love me. Hot, sharp pain flares in my cheeks, more intense than I imagined, yet fading faster. The blood rushes to my smarting buttocks, the cheeks reddening, glowing like a beacon, drawing him to me.”
Gina had no problem envisaging Suzie’s bottom red and smarting. Her fingers scratched against the front of her knickers. Damn the bloody things. They may be warm but all of a sudden the material felt infuriatingly obtrusive.
“The second slap is harder still. My body jerks, my eyes fly open in surprise and I let out a strangled cry. My anguished outburst excites him and with excitement come more blows – heavier blows. The pain builds, becomes needle-like, lingers until I feel I am on fire. Not only the flesh of my bottom but deep between my legs. My pussy throbs, and then the throbbing becomes a dull, needful ache. Soon the heat grows intolerable. It starts to consume me from the inside, turns against me, an agitator for his cause. Imagine how I must have looked to him?”
Gina bit her bottom lip.
“Again he strikes! The heat flares and I open my mouth in silent cry. This time the pain remains stubborn, fades reluctantly. Tears trickle from the corners of my eyes as the ache clings. Yet, somehow I harvest it. My cunt becomes the centre of my universe. Through it I am hypersensitive to the world around me. I feel the rush of air as his hand approaches; feel steamy moisture seep down the insides of my thighs. I am leaking lava. Any moment I will erupt.”
Gina too felt close to erupting. It was pointless pretending otherwise. She dropped her left hand into her lap, searched frantically for the waistband of her knickers. Her masturbating hand shot inside, sought her wetness and drew it onto her clitoris. That first touch was almost too much. Gina groaned loudly.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes! Go on!”
“Well, I bite my lip. Even though I want to scream I whimper. Perhaps not as you imagine – not like a scolded child but like a bitch in heat. The sounds I make are truly pathetic; they somehow make my punishment more demeaning. Before him I am weak. I profess my love when I should be indignant, when I should challenge his assumption that I am his to do with as he pleases, that I am a possession like the Japanese bondage prints in his study. Instead, I thank him for his diligence; thank him for keeping me on the straight and narrow.”
“Then he was satisfied?” Gina hoped not. Beneath the console she frantically rubbed away, building to one of the most peculiar climaxes she had ever experienced.
“No! He pulled out his cock and stood behind me.”
Gina imagined Darren towering over the exposed girl, monstrous and erect. “Did he do you from behind? Men like that. How did it feel?”
“His hips press against me. Despite my resolve I gasp as the pressure makes the pain flare. I welcome the feel of his erection, close my eyes, soak up the wicked pleasure as the hard bulge presses into the crack of my seared bottom. My pussy is swollen and bloated, my breathing ragged. I am empty. I need to be filled, need to be filled by him. Even the air is heavy with my need. Darren knows. He teases me with his erection. His fingers slide slowly over my heated skin, a nail traces a lazy trail ever downwards. He lingers at my anus, making me wonder, letting me know I am his completely. His other hand slides between my thighs, inches slowly upwards. My legs tremble as he stops barely a finger’s width from the outer folds of my sex. I almost swoon with desire. Suddenly he removes his hands, backs away. I open my mouth in surprise, anger and rebellion rising. ‘Please!’”
“Darren left you hanging like that?”
“I grow ever more frantic. He wants me to plead – to beg.”
“Yes, beg,” Gina repeated. “Did you? Did you beg?”
“Yes! I am past caring about self-respect. Only now as the pain subsides do I feel exposed, so totally at his mercy. Thankfully, Darren relents. His hand once again slides between my thighs. I gasp as an impossibly thick finger parts my lips. His finger lingers in the moistness, anticipation causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. He has the dexterity of a seamstress. He works me, picking at the threads holding me together until I am in danger of unravelling.”
Suzie moved at last. She turned to face the glass partition, to face Gina who considered her through glazed eyes. The young woman’s face is flushed, her eyes wide with excitement. “He feigns contempt at my weakness, delves deeper. I swallow his finger effortlessly, shudder in pleasure, no longer embarrassed by my body’s mutiny. I would like him to give more. Two fingers, three! Fuck me, damn it, fuck me! Instead, he teases, waits until I am close to climax, withdraws. I try to clench him to me, dangerously close to the abyss. It is no use. As ever, his timing is impeccable. I must wait. I derive a perverse pleasure from his meanness. It is the reason he can play me. I plead again, fighting back my guilt. What sort of woman am I?”
“A slut,” Gina called out.
Suzie smiled. “Yes! Can you imagine the cruelty of it? Not any slut – I am his slut he reminds me.” Suzie left the recording booth to join Gina in the control room. Gina’s hand froze when she realised. Suzie leaned against the console. “He did me back there ,” she said, touching her bottom again.
Gina mulled over what Suzie had said. Suddenly it registered what the girl meant. She almost swooned at the thought. Once again her fingers started to move. She didn’t care any more. Suzie was in the room right next to her – watching – yet Gina didn’t care. She had to finish. Suzie had to finish! “You let him?”
“I am anything Darren wants me to be. I’ll do anything he wants me to do.” She stared into Gina’s eyes. “Shall I continue?”
“God, yes!”
“It is difficul
t to suppress my elation as his hands grasp my hips, draw me to him. His erection nudges my puckered flesh – rigid, imposing and rampant. Knowing how much he wants me fuels my hunger. He slips into me without hesitation, confident of his status, certain my arousal has prepared the way. His arrogance knows no bounds. In one deft movement he claims me, leaves me in no doubt I am his. I cry out, my submission complete. Darren knows me too well. Knows when to punish, when to deny, when to give, when to keep giving … He comes deep inside me. I squeal like an alley cat, cling to him, trying to force the cork back into the bottle. It is no use. Like a volcano I erupt until I too am spent.”
Gina closed her eyes. She was in the hotel room with Darren doing little Suzie! Suzie screaming in pleasure! Gina was mesmerised by the picture in her mind. She was on the cusp now. Rubbing frantically on her clitoris while a woman she hardly knew revealed her sex life in graphic detail. “It was ... so ... good ...” Suzie’s seductive voice was close to Gina’s ear. She could feel the woman’s hot breath. In that instant Gina came.
After a while Gina shook herself out of her daze. Her hand was still clasped against her sex. Suzie stared at her intently. The girl didn’t say anything – she just had a faraway look on her face. All Gina could think was that beneath her flimsy dress, the delectable Suzie was naked. If she could just reach out and touch ... As if reading her mind Suzie smiled and edged the dress higher. “Good?” she finally asked, her voice a little breathy.
Gina wasn’t certain if Suzie referred to the story or her orgasm. “Yes,” she answered.
“Would you like to join Darren and me?”
Gina swallowed hard. She couldn’t answer, her mouth was too dry. “Come on ...” Suzie stood and pulled on Gina’s hand. How would she ever explain taking off from work with Suzie? Yet, she was already fumbling with her trousers and searching for her coat. Sod the schedule. The day was beyond bizarre, yet what puzzled Gina most was Suzie’s motivation. She had never shown any inclination of exhibitionist behaviour before, had never hinted that she too liked girls.
At the first set of traffic lights Gina got her answer. Suzie turned to Gina and squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I can see you’re wondering why I’m doing this. Well ... Darren’s orders this morning,” Suzie whispered as she slipped the car into gear and set off once more, “were to seduce a woman and bring her back to him.”
“All this was a set-up? For Darren’s benefit?”
Suzie giggled. “Can you imagine how pleased he’ll be?”
Gina squirmed in her seat. “Yes, I can imagine!”
Him
by Cyanne
You know I want you, I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you. It’s rare, that kind of chemistry; it’s not about being good-looking, or funny, or clever, or any of that, although you are all of those things. This is chemical, literally. It makes me feel a bit icky to say it as I don’t want kids, but I guess on some primitive level I want your babies. But I don’t want to dwell on that!
So … we fooled around, we became friends, you told me we could be nothing more. I know you love her and I don’t want to take you away from her, but I know you want more, and I would be only too happy to give it to you. You feel guilty, sometimes you admit it, sometimes you don’t, but I know you want me too. Just give in to it. I hold out hope that one day you will just give in to it. For years now, through other relationships, single times, other crushes, jobs, projects, interests … when it’s time for my mind and fingers to wander, it’s you. It’s always been you.
We get a hotel. We hide our cars in different places just in case anyone recognises them. The sneaking around, the deceit, it’s part of the fun. I know you love legs and shoes, so I’m wearing the tightest skinny jeans and heels. You’ve checked in and are already sitting at the bar when I walk in; you look me up and down and your eyes tear holes in me. I am weak with lust for you, more than any man I have ever met. I don’t want to look like an escort and you don’t want to look like a cheat, we agreed on the phone, so we peck on the cheeks and act like we’re on a second date or something. Just being this close to you turns me on, the smell of your skin, the firmness of your body putting your arms around me. We have a drink and every movement, every comment, every flash of eye contact is loaded. You stroke my hair and it electric-shocks me. Our legs touch and I quiver. We were supposed to have dinner but we can’t wait, we’ll have to order room service later or something. You give me the room key and say you’ll follow at a safe distance. We’re not that far away from home, and you never know who’s lurking around.
I strip down to my underwear, plain black strapless bra and thong with opaque, plain top hold-up stockings. My hair’s black and my make-up’s heavy and gothic, completely different to her and I know you’ll love it. I keep my heels on. I throw a pink scarf over the lamp and put a CD on – Nine Inch Nails. She probably wants to fuck to Celine Dion or something. I’m going to be just the girl you want, which luckily is exactly the girl I am already. The hotel room’s the perfect backdrop, just tacky enough, decorated in reds, perfect for adultery and filth and things never to be spoken of but often dreamed about.
I pile on even more make-up, light a cigarette and sit in the big black armchair. I resist the urge to touch myself; I’m already wet but I want your fingers, or – oh my god! – your tongue, to be the first thing I feel. When you come in I almost faint with lust, and I love the fact that I can see you react to me the same way. I take a long drag on the cigarette, looking you dead in the eyes.
You love going down on a girl more than anything, and you can’t wait but I try to make you wait a little while. I know you’ll be in control soon enough but it’s more fun for you to break me if I’m strong. You kneel in front of me trying to pull my panties off and I tell you to wait until I’ve finished my cigarette. You start to play with my shoes, cradling my foot and stroking my insteps, held firm by the leather. This pulls my legs a little bit open and you tear your eyes away from my foot to try to make out the folds of my pussy under my thong. Stroking up my leg strongly with both hands you play with my stocking tops, staring hungrily all over my body. I’m enjoying the power, for now, but I’ll relinquish it to you in time and you know that. You watch the cigarette going down, like an egg timer for when the roles will change. You kiss my shoes, my ankles and up my legs. At the top of my stockings you hesitate, before blowing, nibbling, licking my bare thighs. I moan as you press your lips to my cunt through my panties. You love female juices so much and you try to pull them aside but I wriggle away, pointing at the cigarette, and taking another drag. You can wait, and you go back to playing with my shoes, a look of fascinated innocence on your face.
I stub out the cigarette and start to submit to you. You motion for me to turn around and I kneel up on the chair, leaning forward over the back and sticking my ass out. You walk round me, admiring every angle, stroking my face as I stay resolutely prone, running your hands over the rounds of my buttocks and down the backs of my legs.
‘You fucking temptress,’ you say, not harshly, but with just a hint of aggression.
I stare ahead, the patterns on the curtains swirling as my eyesight starts to go wonky with lust, and hear you unbuckling your belt. I try to turn and you press my face into the chair with your hand. You stroke my ass and every time your fingers graze just a little bit closer to my pussy. The leather feels different to your hand, cooler and less pliant, as you stroke the belt down my back, over my ass, and down the backs of my legs. The contrast between the feminine gauzy stockings and the manly utility of the leather belt as they meet each other does it for me, and I know you know this.
The first smack with the belt is a surprise, not unwelcome, but harsh and shocking nonetheless. It smarts. My gentle female arousal is punctuated by the flat slap of the belt, right across my arse, and a low grunt from you as you do, loving hurting me, punishing me for tempting you, and loving that I love it. I arch my back up and lift my head, crying out – it does actually hurt, even though the rush an
d the turn-on are amazing. The music is getting particularly industrial and thrashy and you are getting into your stroke, and three harder smacks crash down on me, and I cry, eye make-up smearing down my cheeks, black lines of drama that lovers love.
My arse and the tops of the legs smart from the thrashing and you stroke me gently, sliding your hand over where the welts are just starting to appear. My pussy’s gushing, aching for your touch. You slowly edge my panties down a little bit, which stings as they graze over my spanked buttocks. How do you know? How can you have the same, equal and opposite turn-ons to me? It’s almost like I’m writing it, almost like you’re reading my mind. You leave my panties stretched between my upper thighs – it’s perfect, I love it. Kissing your way down my back you work your way down and I arch backwards, begging you with my body. You allow me just a few seconds, flickering your tongue into my cunt, wet with spit and pussy we squelch together and I’m spinning with lust, feeling like I’m about to faint.
You tell me to get on the bed and I obey. I want to obey you, and I know that by obeying you I am giving you what she won’t, and it’s so perfect. I am moving carefully, wobbling on my heels a little, my legs weak and my marks hurting. I go to pull my panties back up and you shake your head.
Learning Her Lesson Page 4