CHAPTER ONE
Rita was paying no attention whatsoever out the rearview mirror. The first clue that the
other driver was even out there was the sickening crunch of metal as her mammoth SUV
lurched to a halt.
"Fuck!" she screamed into her cell phone at her boss at the real estate office.
"Frank, I gotta call you back. I just hit somebody."
Her heart slammed in her chest as she threw open the door and slid down off the seat,
high heels clicking on the parking lot black top. "Oh, god," she exclaimed
taking in the sight of the man and his ruined sports car all at once. "I`m so sorry.
I didn`t have any idea you were there."
"So I gathered," he said, showing remarkable equanimity.
Rita took a moment from her general panic to admire him. Expensive loafers, button down
shirt, nice jeans and a blazer. The look oozed casual, confident money.
So did the car, a late model European sports car that must have gone for fifty g`s if it
went for a nickel.
I am so fucked, she thought. The second accident in as many months and this time it`s
going to cost more to fix than I can earn in commissions in six months.
There had to be a way out...
She was blonde and she had her looks, maybe not the knockout figure from her twenties or
early thirties, but still serviceable, assuming the guy wasn`t a refugee from Brokeback
Mountain.
"Are you all right?" he wanted to know, showing little apparent concern for the
giant dent that used to be his car.
"I`m fine," she managed a weak smile. "I feel pretty foolish,
though."
"These things happen," he soothed. "The important thing is you`re not
injured."
"That`s true," she pushed out her chest subtly, thankful she`d worn the pale
blue dress that tended to show her assets to best effect. "I do hope you`re okay,
too?"
"Nothing a little money won`t fix," he winked. The gesture brought out little
crow`s feet, which Rita had always found sexy in a man. Especially a potentially a rich
one with chiseled features and silver gray hair.
"Yes ... about the money," she bit her full lip, making it protrude just a
little. "I wonder, sir, if it would be all right, that is to say..."
"You don`t want me to call the cops or the insurance, is that it?" he saved her
from her misery.
Rita gasped. "Yes, that`s it exactly. How did you know?"
"Intuition."
She hung on his next words. "So ... you`ll help me then?"
He smiled coyly. "Buy me a drink," he said. "And we can work something
out."
She heaved a huge sigh. "Oh, thank you, Sir, if you only knew. My insurance is a
mess already, my husband would kill me. I could just kiss you."
"Careful," he laughed. "I doubt your husband would like that anymore than
an insurance hike."
"No, he wouldn`t," she agreed, wondering how he was going to manage to get his
car hauled out of here without the police coming along and spoiling the whole thing by
writing her a ticket.
Her answer came a moment later when a squad car rolled up. Her newfound denim clad hero
went immediately to the driver`s side to talk. The officer nodded his head a few times and
then shook the man`s hand. With that he was walking back towards her.
"All set," he said.
"Just like that?" she marveled.
"Just like that," he said. "Now how about that drink? There`s a sports bar
down at the end of this strip mall."
"That would be fine." She took one last look at their vehicles, the huge crunch
in his door in comparison to the almost invisible scratches on her back bumper.
"God, I feel so bad about this."
He put his hand against her back, palm pressing. "You think too mch. I told you,
it`s no big deal."
It was a big deal if you considered Rita`s next problem which was that she didn`t have
the money to fix this man`s car in the first place, not without insurance help and she`d
just eliminated that possibility all together.
That was a bridge she`d cross later. For now, she needed to know what to do with her
vehicle.
"Just pull forward again," he advised. "Back into the spot. By the time we
come out my car will be towed and no one will be the wiser."
"You really are awesome," she thanked him. "I don`t know what I`d have
done if you were some kind of dick."
He smiled slantedly. "You don`t know me all that well yet, maybe you`ll change your
mind."
Rita decided he was kidding and laughed. Reparking her SUV, she walked with him over to
the bar in question. It was virtually empty inside. He took her down a half flight of
stairs to an open lower floor. The leather-covered tables were completely unoccupied.
There were televisions on either end of the paneled wall showing two different sports
networks.
"Two gin and tonics," the man told the tall waitress in the short black skirt
as soon as they were seated.
Rita was a little surprised to have him order for her, but she wasn`t about to complain
about anything.
"Do you like gin?" he asked.
"Yes," she smiled politely.
His lips slid to a sharp angle. "You`re quite a woman," he studied her.
"Aren`t you? Or should I say quite a girl."
The way he said "girl" sent butterflies through her tummy. It was intimate,
possessive ... and very powerful. "I`ll answer to either," she replied.
He laughed. "Very diplomatic, aren`t you?"
"I wouldn`t say that," she answered honestly.
"No?" He raised a brow. She tried to guess his age. He could pass for
forty-five but he was probably in his fifties. Certainly she felt young in comparison. He
could be her father. "What would you say, then ... oh, dear, I haven`t even asked
your name."
"I`m Rita," she said softly. "Rita Monroe."
It didn`t occur to her lie. It just wouldn`t have felt right.
"Pleased to know you. I`m Conrad."
She waited for his last name, but he moved on to something else.
"Rita, I want you to know that I have no interest in your money. I have plenty of it
and frankly it bores me."
"Oh." She tried to contain her enthusiasm. Dear god, she might actually come
out of this unscathed.
"What I do care about," he took a sip of his drink, "is justice."
Her heartbeat quickened a little. "Conrad, if you mean the police, I–"
"No," he cut her off. "I don`t mean them. They don`t really have the
capability to rectify this kind of situation."
"Exactly what kind of situation is that?" she asked, a little wary now.
"The sort of a situation involving a girl who`s been naughty."
Rita`s mouth went dry. "I`m not following you."
"I think you are. You, Rita, are the naughty girl. And you need to be
punished."
Rita rose to her feet. Her legs were shaking. Ordinarily she had an answer for
everything, but this Conrad was putting her completely off balance. "I think I should
be going."
"I wouldn`t do that," he said, his tone dead calm, "if I were you. You`d
be making things quite a bit worse on yourself, wouldn`t you? Now that you`ve fled the
scene of the accident."
Her mouth hung open. "Fled?! But you invited me here."
Conrad enjoyed another sip of gin. "So you say. But you`re not exactly the victim of
this crime are you?"
Rita sat back down. "What is it you want?"
"For starters, you may show me the respect I am due. From this moment forward you
will address me as Sir."
Rita`s voice trembled. "What is it you want, Sir."
"I told you, justice. The appropriate punishment. Were you a man, I would give you a
good thrashing, but since you are merely a female I intend to give you something you can
better understand. A spanking."
"A ... what?" she asked, not believing her ears.
"A spanking," he said, most pleased with himself. "On your bare
behind."
She shook her head. "This must be some kind of joke. Am I on one of those TV
shows?"
"It`s not a joke," he shook his head. "And there are no cameras. This is
reality. Your reality. And don`t even think about trying to back out because I promise you
I am capable of making your life a living hell."
Rita`s eyes began to water. "I have a husband ... Sir, please, don`t do this to
me."
"You weren`t too concerned about him a while ago, were you? When you were flashing
those tits of yours in my face? Tell me, are they real?"
She lowered her eyes. "Yes. They`re real."
"Do you cheat on your husband?" he wanted to know. "And don`t lie to me,
I`ll only find out later when you are over my knee."
Rita clenched her fists. She felt so very helpless and yet at the same time ... she was
aroused. "I`ve never cheated, Sir."
"Lucky for you," he approved. "I might have punished you for that as well,
now finish your drink and we`ll get out of here."
She picked up the glass with trembling hands. "Yes, Sir," she mumbled, shocked
by her own passivity.
He regarded her, impassive as she followed his order. Rita felt the gin burn her throat.
It wasn`t her drink, not her choice. Nothing was, not this afternoon.
"Let`s go," he said as she put down the empty glass.
"Sir, I have a house showing," she said, not daring to make eye contact.
"You`ll have to cancel it, won`t you?"
She nodded.
He took her arm as they left the bar. She noted the money he`d left on the table. A
hundred dollar bill, crisp and new.
"We`ll take your vehicle," he told her. "I like to use the Belvedere Hotel
downtown. Is that a safe place for you?"
The Belvedere was a two hundred dollar a night establishment. Not even most of her real
estate clients could afford that let along her friends and family. "I wouldn`t be
recognized there, no."
"Good. We will go in separately anyway. I will pay and then I`ll call you and tell
you the room number. I`m not married but I`m not anxious to be seen with anyone."
The thought crossed her mind of running off while he went in to get the room.
He`d probably factor that possibility in, though, in his plans
"I`d like you to remove your panties," he said as soon as they were inside
Rita`s SUV.
"You mean ... now?"
Conrad`s lips thinned, indicating displeasure. "You`re not a stupid girl, Rita, and
I really won`t abide your acting as one. Unless you would like your punishment
significantly expanded upon, I suggest quicker compliance with my orders. Is that
clear?"
"Yes, Sir." Rita lifted her bottom and hiked up her dress. It took some effort
but she managed at to wriggle the white silk garment over her thighs and down her legs.
Not knowing what else to do, she held them out for him, meekly.
"They`re wet." He was telling her as much as asking her.
"Yes, Sir," she replied, her voice barely audible.
"Put them to your nose. Confirm it."
Her fingers trembled as she pushed the tiny scrap of material to her face. The smell
overwhelmed her.
"Well?" he demanded.
"It`s true, Sir," she mumbled.
"Speak up," he said harshly, making her jolt. "And don`t beat about the
bush. State the matter clearly."
"They`re wet, Sir, my panties are wet."
"Much better," he approved. "Now put them on the dashboard and start the
engine."
Rita almost dropped the keys, she was so shaken. Conrad didn`t just want to punish her
like a child, he wanted to dominate her sexually. She had to bring this to a halt before
it was too late. Much as she loved to flirt and as much cause for loneliness and
unhappiness as her husband Roger had given her of late, she had never once violated the
sanctity of her marriage and she was not intent on starting.
Not that there weren`t chances for the pretty blonde, the former cheerleader and beauty
queen. There were plenty. Not a day went by without some man openly drooling at her if not
making a pass.
"Take the interstate into the city," he ordered. "I don`t want to waste
time."
Rita left the parking lot and got into the correct lane for the onramp. "Sir? May I
say something?"
"What is it?"
"I told you I`ve never cheated, right?"
"You did. Was that a lie?"
"No, it`s true," she assured him. "It`s just that, well, I feel like what
we are going to do now is cheating."
"This isn`t sex, Rita, it`s discipline."
She swallowed, trying to screw up the courage to keep on making her point. "But you
made me take off my underwear."
"I did that to humiliate you, Rita. Consider that part of your punishment."
"Yes, Sir," she whispered. He was right about one thing, she did feel deeply
ashamed and degraded, having to strip herself like this in front of a stranger, revealing
to him her inappropriate sexual arousal.
"Sir?" she asked, unable to resist asking another question.
"What is it?"
He sounded impatient. She felt afraid for how this might worsen her position.
"Sir, I don`t mean to upset you.
"That isn`t possible," he told her. "You aren`t important enough."
Rita`s cheeks stung with shame. Being abused by a man for no good reason was one thing,
but having him regard as little more than dirt was something else all together.
"I – I was just wondering, how badly will it hurt?"
Conrad snorted. "You really are a selfish cunt, you know that?"
Rita bit her lip. No man talked to her like this, not her husband, not her boss, no one.
"Yes, Rita, it will hurt," he said patronizingly. "That`s why it`s called
punishment."
Rita didn`t bother to open her mouth again. She let him direct her all the way to the
hotel. Nothing that she did was right for him. He didn`t like her speed, the way she
changed lanes, even the way she handed the money to the tollbooth operator.
This last part was extra embarrassing, because she was sure the woman could recognize
what was happening and what they were going to do. It was completely irrational, but then
what about this whole situation was rational?
He had her park in the street out front of the hotel so he could walk in and get the
room, just like he`d said he would. "You had better be here," he said.
She watched him walk away. Who was he exactly and what was she getting herself into?
Maybe she should call the police? She was in trouble already for leaving that accident,
but hadn`t he left, too? She needed to take the chance. He could be a psychopath, looking
for girls to kill.
She took out her cell phone and stuffed the panties in her bag. She was all set to dial
911 when it rang.
Rita jumped slightly, startled. "Hello?"
It was him.
"You aren`t going to do anything naughty, are you?"
"No, I`m just waiting."
"That`s a lie, Rita. I`ve been watching you. You took out your phone. Who were you
going to call?"
"My office, to tell them I can`t show that house this afternoon."
"Another lie. That`s two. Plus, you didn`t call me, Sir. Care to keep going?"
"No, Sir," she whispered.
"Wait there," he said.
Her heart slammed in her chest. A few moments later he was back, sitting next to her in
the passenger`s seat again. His gaze was steady, uncompromising. She felt like a deer in
front of headlights.
"What`s the truth, Rita?"
She replied without hesitation, desperate to come clean, needing to please him as she`d
never needed to please a man before. "I was going to call the police, Sir."
"Give me your phone," he put out his hand.
She handed it to him, her fingers grazing his. It was sheer electricity, slicing through
her, opening her soul.
"And your keys, as well," he added.
Rita placed them in his palm with a jingle. "Will I be punished more for this,
Sir?"
Conrad`s voice was calm and steady, completely in control. "What do you think,
Rita?"
She squirmed on the seat, her pussy juices dripping down her thighs. "I think ...
yes."
He smiled, lightly caressing the side of her head. She sighed, leaning into him, hating
herself for enjoying it. "You are correct, Rita, you have earned more
punishment." His eyes flicked to the dashboard and back onto her. "You removed
the panties. Were you given permission to do so?"
Rita took them quickly from her purse, offering them. "No, Sir."
Conrad`s hand moved rapidly, grasping her nipple through the dress and bra. "This is
not sexual," he pinched. "It is humiliation and punishment. Understand the
difference?"
"Yes, Sir," she winced, though in truth she did not understand at all. How
could it not be sexual when his touch made her want him to do things to her body, to
violate her, forcing her to destroy her wedding vows, servicing his obvious perversions.
Spanking, in her mind, was only the beginning. She was already itching for more, already
curious deep within her lonely body. But she was not in charge. She would have to remember
that.
"Good," he said. "Now that we have that cleared up, how about we go
upstairs and redden that pretty little ass of yours, shall we?"
Rita lowered her eyes, a fresh wave of embarrassment searing through her. "Yes,
Sir," she said softly.
Conrad took her arm, walking them up to the front door. "Park that one over there,
will you?" he gave her keys to the valet along with a folded hundred dollar bill.
"Yes, Sir," the man tipped his cap enthusiastically, taking just a moment to
look Rita up and down. "Thank you, Sir."
Rita felt like a whore, especially when Conrad patted her ass on the way in. She kept her
head down, terrified to look anyone in the eye. She was sure they all knew what she was
here for.
She breathed a sigh of relief when they got in the elevator, thinking she would have a
little breathing room. She was quite wrong.
"Show me your ass," he said, as though exposing herself in a public elevator
were the most natural thing in the world.
Rita felt a wave of defiance rising within her. She had to draw the line. "But,
Sir," she complained. "Someone could see."
Conrad`s eyes narrowed. Quickly, savagely, he slapped her face. "Modesty is a
privilege bad girls don`t get. Now turn around and pull up your dress before I take off my
belt and give you a real whipping."
Rita choked back tears. "Y-yes, Sir."
She held her breath as she put her back to her tormentor. Facing the wall she reached for
the hem of the tight, blue dress. Inch by inch she hiked it, feeling more desperate and
more horny with every motion.
"All the way," he barked. "I want to see the whole package, ass and pussy
both."
Rita pulled the dress up all the way to her belly button.
"Spread your legs," he ordered. "Bend over."
Rita braced her hands on her knees. She was utterly exposed, sex hanging out, completely
obscene. What happened next? Did he intend to spank her here and now?
Rita heard the ding of the elevator. Oh, god, they were stopping. Was it their floor
already?
"Don`t move," Conrad commanded. "Stay as you are."
The doors slid open. Someone was getting in. She heard leather shoes on the metal floor.
Between her legs she saw a pair of pinstriped trousers.
"Afternoon," said Conrad pleasantly to the newcomer.
"Afternoon," the man said back.
Rita tried not to writhe as she stood there, her sex naked, posed like a total slut in
front of two fully clothed, dignified men.
The newcomer wasn`t saying a word. The elevator started back up, taking them the rest of
the way. After a while, Conrad spoke. "She`s been a bad girl," he said
jovially.
"I`m sure she has," chortled the man, his voice deep and refined, his shoes
smelling of English leather and old money.
"You wouldn`t care to take a hand in disciplining her yourself, would you?"
Conrad asked.
"No, no, that`s quite all right. I leave that sort of thing to younger men these
days."
The elevator dinged again.
"Our floor, sweetheart," said Conrad kindly, patting her bare rump.
Rita straightened. The blood had rushed to her head. She was sweating and she felt
completely degraded. The man gave her the most lecherous glare, making her feel like a
mere piece of meat.
"I trust you`ll be better after today," he said to her.
"Yes," she replied gloomily, knowing that Conrad would make her answer.
Conrad stopped her at the elevator, his hand on her shoulder. "What did you say to
him?"
Rita continued working the dress down over her ass. "Yes, Sir," she corrected
herself.
Conrad snapped his fingers, as though she were a dog. "Come on, girl, I have things
to do after you."
Rita hurried down the corridor, trying to match his long strides. She heard the elevator
close behind her. What was that man thinking she wondered? How many times had he brought
girls up to hotel rooms like this in his day?
Conrad reached the room door. According to the plaque on the door it was the Ambassador
Suite and it certainly looked like it from the inside.
The carpet was thick and rich. The walls were a slick gray, covered in original art work.
There was a living room with black leather couches and chairs and a glass top table. The
television was a flat screen. A fish tank was built into the wall and there was a fully
stocked bar in the corner.
She could just make out the bedroom through the open doorway. There was a huge four
poster brass bed and a full size statue of a female nude. Beyond that was a bathroom.
"Fix me a gin and tonic," said Conrad, closing the door behind them.
Rita sucked in her lower lip. "Sir, I`m not sure I know how."
She was half afraid he`d be angry, but he merely told her to put some scotch in a glass
with ice.
"Nothing for you," he told her, making it clear hers was the servant role.
Conrad had settled himself in one of the leather armchairs by the time she had the drink
ready for him. "Have a seat," he said as she bent forward, handing him the cold
glass.
Rita thought he meant the sofa, but actually he meant the floor. "Here," he
pointed to a spot by his feet.
Rita settled herself by his shoes, tucking her legs underneath her. She looked up at him,
waiting on his next command, whatever it might be.
None was forthcoming. He had some of the drink, swallowing the clear liquid. "I do
hope you understand," he said in a much more soothing tone, "that I must do this
for your own good. I do hope you will be able to thank me when it`s all over."
Rita felt very submissive in her current position. "I can thank you now, Sir,"
she replied, the words flowing naturally as could be.
"Good girl. Have a drink," he placed the drink within range of her lips.
Rita pressed her mouth to the glass. He tipped it slightly and she took a swallow. The
scotch burned her throat. "Thank you, Sir," she said most humbly.
Conrad sat back. "I`m afraid the situation has changed from before."
"Sir?"
"We`re no longer looking at just a spanking. You lied to me, Rita, I can`t ignore
that."
"No, Sir."
Conrad extended his wrist, but this time it was not to give her a drink. "Put this
back on the bar," he said, spitting the orders in rapid fire succession. "Stand
in the middle of the room, hands behind your head, fingers interlaced, legs shoulder width
apart facing me."
Rita felt obliged to move as quickly as he`d spoken. She was a little out of breath by
the time she reached the last step.
"You carry yourself like a sex slave," he observed her posture. "Do you
know what that is?"
"No, Sir." Rita was painfully aware of her submissiveness, the way her breasts
were displayed, the way her arms seemed bound together.
"Oh, I think you could make a pretty good guess," he smiled wryly. "A sex
slave is someone whose body exists for the pleasure of others. She finds her peace and
freedom in being a man`s property, in obeying him."
Rita swooned. Was such a thing possible? Would a man really want to own a woman ... like
her? And could that woman ... again her ... ever find joy in such an arrangement?
"Sex slaves serve and when they err they are punished," he added. "Though
that is nothing close to what we have today."
She thought she picked up a little irony in his voice, if not satire.
"This is all about correcting a normal, red blooded American woman who`s gone a
little astray. Tell me, does your husband ever spank you or do you manage to keep your
peccadilloes under the sheets so to speak?"
"Roger would never do something like that to me," she declared, trying to rally
her pride.
"He hasn`t done you any favors, has he? You may remove your dress, Rita; consider
your formal discipline time begun."
Rita wanted to make some excuse but she thought better of it.
By now she was used to lifting the hem for him, it was just a matter of taking it all the
way off. Up, over her belly and breasts and over her head.
"Put it on the couch and return to your position," he said.
She walked unsteadily. Her position, as though he had the right to pose her, to control
her like a doll. She felt lightheaded. It wasn`t like she`d never stripped for a man
before, just not one who by his own declaration had no sexual interest in her.
Rita faced him again. He was staring at her, making her squirm. She longed for him to
tell her she was pretty. That`s what men were supposed to do with buxom blondes, weren`t
they?
"Your husband doesn`t touch you much, does he?"
She had her hands in front of her, covering her naked pussy. She was still wearing the
bra, though it did little more than advertise her full breasts. "I – I don`t know
what you mean," she said stupidly.
"Your husband doesn`t make use of your body," Conrad said more bluntly.
"He doesn`t fuck you and make you come."
She licked her lips, terrified of what he would make her confess.
"Does he fuck other women, Rita?"
"N-no," she trembled. "He – he loves me."
Conrad laughed drolly. "They always do. I want you to fetch the chair over there,
under the desk. Place it where you are now standing, face it towards me and kneel beside
it."
"Yes, Sir," the half naked Rita moved to do his bidding. His use of the word
fetch had made her even hotter, heating things considerably between her legs. The juices
were dripping. She could feel the slickness between her thighs as she walked.
Halfway there he told her to slow down. She felt his eyes like lasers on her ass. She
slid the chair out from under the mahogany desk. It was rich and smooth to the touch,
luxurious. The feet were claws. Rita knew this made them expensive.
She had picked up lots of little things in her career as a real estate agent. Roger
hadn`t wanted her to go back to work, but his own salary as a police detective just wasn`t
cutting it, not with all the bills to pay and the mortgage on their new house in the
suburbs.
He`d let her go on the condition she kept herself safe and out of trouble. Things went
fine the first year, but as she got busier and more distracted, she had the accidents. The
first time she had hit a stopped car at an intersection, this time she had backed into a
sports car.
The last thing Roger needed was more stress. She wished she could explain to Conrad how
much Roger had on his shoulders. It was no wonder he didn`t make love to her much
anymore.
Feeling exquisitely wicked in her bra and heels, like some kind of exotic dancer, Rita
brought the chair to the middle of the room. She placed as she`d been instructed, like a
throne.
Now the last step, kneeling beside it, which for some reason affected Rita more than any
other.
Was this a posture for sex slaves, too?
Rita lowered herself, gracefully to her knees.
Conrad shifted in his seat, crossing his legs. "You recall I told you I was going to
have to alter your punishment? I had intended to use only my hand, but now I will use my
belt as well. This will leave marks, Rita."
Rita felt the blood drain from her face. "But my husband will see."
"That is not my concern. I am not the one who disobeyed."
"Yes, Sir," Rita lowered her head in defeat. She was ready to cry. Her blonde
locks fell forward over her face.
"Tears won`t sway me," he informed her. "In fact, they are liable to
irritate me."
Rita sought to pull herself together. "I`m sorry, Sir," she took a deep breath.
"I`ll try and be good."
"I`m sure you will." Conrad rose and took several steps toward her. "I
want you to come over here and take off my belt. Do not stand, crawl."
Rita scooted forward on her knees, very much aware of her position of inferiority. The
carpet burned her skin, but she dared not complain. This man wanted her to be
uncomfortable, to suffer pain.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for his buckle. Gone was any semblance of pride on
her part. She was a slut, performing the lowest kind of act. And very soon she would be a
beaten slut, with a red ass to take home and explain to her cop husband.
Should she warn Conrad about Roger`s temper? He might try and get revenge. Conrad
certainly seemed to have power and influence on his side, but Roger was liable to do
something hasty.
Rita unbuckled the leather belt, shiny and new and pulled it from the loops of Conrad`s
finely tailored pants. His waist, she noted was lean and solid. His crotch was close
enough to kiss. She could smell his scent, testosterone mixed with a subtle musk.
He didn`t appear to be erect. She wasn`t sure if this should make her more or less
worried.
She held up the belt.
"Offer it to me properly," he said. "Ask to be punished as the bad girl
you are."
Rita looked up into his eyes, noting he was tall as a god. "I ... I ask to be
punished," she said, barely audible.
Conrad grabbed her hair, yanking back on her neck. "What did I tell you about
speaking up?"
Her eyes watered. "I`m sorry, Sir," she whimpered.
He pulled harder. "Again, like the naughty little girl you are."
"Please, Sir," she whined. "Punish me, like a bad girl. Beat me with your
belt, please?"
Conrad pushed her backward, releasing her. "On my lap," he ordered, sitting
down.
Rita tucked her hair behind her ears, staring at his crotch. This was it, the moment of
decision. She was already hurting, already bewildered and humiliated.
The trouble was she was wet, too.
Conrad noticed this. "Get a towel," he said. "Lay it down first. I don`t
want come all over me."
Rita was mortified, though she tried to hide it. When she began to crawl to the bathroom
he ordered her to get up and run instead. She did so, fast as she could.
Obediently, she placed the white terrycloth, so sterile and yet so provocative.
"Now you," he reiterated. "Ass up."
Rita tried to bend in a lady-like fashion, seeking to avoid bodily contact. Conrad would
have none of it. "Down," he smacked her ass shoving her down and forward.
Rita collapsed onto him, her belly against his left thigh, her pussy directly over his
crotch. Even her breasts were squashed.
"Brace your hands and feet on the floor," he ordered. "I don`t want you
moving around. And keep the screaming down or I will have to stop and gag you. If that
happens we start all over."
Rita released a small moan. This wasn`t happening to her; it had to be a dream. How could
one split second of careless driving on her part result in such complete and utter
degradation and abuse?
"You will take twenty blows," he said. "With a break at ten."
She heard the leather before she felt it. A whistling sound in the air. The belt cracked
against her ass, like a firecracker. She couldn`t help crying out.
Conrad pulled her hair again, damp and stringy. "Next time you do that, I will gag
you."
Rita took the second blow with a silent groan. Dear god, how would she make it to twenty?
Conrad struck her again, raining down fire. She couldn`t tell where the blows were
hitting, though he seemed to be trying to cover her thoroughly.
The next two were to her upper thighs. Then one to her lower back which hurt like hell.
She tried to focus on her breathing and not on the sailing, punishing, biting leather. As
ten approached, she lost count. It was like a whirring maelstrom, a tornado of discipline
on her tender girl flesh.
"Ten," he announced.
Rita heaved a sigh of relief at the respite, though her ass continued to twitch and throb
as if he were still beating her.
Any hopes of real rest were quickly shattered, however.
"Well, well," said Conrad, observing her dripping sex. "Looks like we have
a pain slut here."
"No, Sir," she said hoarsely. "I`m not."
Conrad swatted her cruelly with hand, igniting the sorest spots. "Did I ask for your
opinion, girl?"
"No, Sir," she groaned.
"A female`s cunt doesn`t lie," he thrust his finger between her puffy lips,
making her toes curl. "Does it?"
"N-no, Sir..."
Conrad worked her, leisurely motions, in and out like she was nothing more than property,
a momentary amusement. "Would you like me to make you come, Rita?"
"Yes, please, Sir, please would you?" she said, her voice coming in short
stabs.
He withdrew his hand, resting his wet fingers on her ass. "No, Rita, only good girls
get orgasms. Bad girls get the belt."
"Ohhh..." she cried in frustration, clenching her belly.
"Legs apart," he ordered, slapping her inner thigh. "Let`s see if we can
make the second round a little more up close and personal."
"S-sir," she cried, a plaintive wail. "No more, please?"
Conrad grazed her clit. "Are you refusing me?"
She shook her head no.
"Spread," he repeated, pinching her ass hard.
Rita shifted, opening her body to him as best she could. Conrad did not relent. He
pinched her harder and harder.
"Stop, oh stop, I`ll do anything..."
The pain built, like a huge, throbbing volcano, building and building. At last he
released her, allowing her to go limp on his lap.
Conrad wiped his hand in her hair, cleaning off the pussy juices. "Are you ready for
the second round?"
"Yes," she said weakly. "Please, Sir, beat this bad girl with your
belt."
Conrad patted her head. "You see, pet, you can be trained."
The very first blow of the second round was worse than all the others put together. Rita
couldn`t hold it together. She was crying, panting, pleading. "Please, Sir, I can`t
take it, fuck me instead, let me suck your cock, I`ll be a good lay, I swear."
"This isn`t about sex," he reminded, whipping her once again.
"I-I`ll die," she moaned. "I can`t survive this."
"Of course you will. A woman can take ten times this number. Imagine if you were a
slave? You`ve no idea how fortunate you are."
She took several more blows, though they felt like one long protracted infusion of raw
lightning. She must have vocalizing too much because Conrad stopped long enough to unhook
her bra. Lifting her by the hair and shaking her he caused it to fall to the floor.
"Open your mouth," he ordered picking it up. "Wide."
Rita had to take it, wadded up, as much as would fit.
"That should take care of you."
She was terrified he would follow through on his threat to start all over again, but he
resumed where he`d left off.
"Fifteen," he called out.
Only five left ... I have to make it she told herself.
"Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen."
Rita was contorting, her body bending this way and that, just two more and it was over.
But why was he stopping?
Oh, hell, he was going to masturbate her again. She whimpered into her gag, begging him
not to. Conrad ignored her. In seconds he had her humping his hand, like a humiliated,
pathetic whore.
She was so close, but he wouldn`t let her finish. Every time she was on the brink, he
would slow up.
Finally he took his fingers away. She braced herself for more of the belt. He had
something else in mind, first, though.
She could feel his sopping wet fingers at her hole, the smaller one. Oh, god, he was
going into her ass. Rita found her will and began to struggle. But Conrad was too quick.
Expertly, he slid a finger up and in her, impaling her.
The anal intrusion conquered her entirely. She went from wildcat to kitten.
"You like that, don`t you?"
She closed her eyes in shame. No man had ever done this to her, not even Roger. Only
whores took it in the ass.
"You`re an anal virgin, aren`t you?" He laughed. "There`s a nice treat you
could offer hubby."
Rita moaned, well aware of the drool soaking her bra.
"It`s time to finish your whipping," he announced. "I want you to be a
nice obedient little thing and hold up your ass for me. Can you do that?"
She nodded yes.
He pushed his fingers in further, creating an aching void in her pussy. "That`s my
girl."
Conrad removed his fingers. Again he wiped them in her hair, letting her know just what
she was good for. She ought to be infuriated, proud and vain as she was, but her only
impulse was to serve and please this man. To take his cock, however he wanted to insert
it.
At the moment, it was about the belt, though. Up went her ass, primed and ready. Conrad
patted it, chuckling. "Good slut."
Oh, yes, she felt like a slut. A pain slut as he`d called it. As the whip came crashing
down, cracking between her ass cheeks on her pussy she felt herself snap over into another
reality. One of pure release, pure pain.
The last blow was in slow motion. Explosions within explosions, like an orgasm of agony.
She clenched and unclenched her pussy and her ass both. It was over ... it was actually
done.
Conrad ended their session abruptly rolling her onto the floor. She laid there, her head
over his shoes, not daring to look up or to take out the gag.
"Go to the bathroom," he ordered. "Take a shower. Look at the
damage."
She got up onto all fours, her eyes full of questions. She still did not feel right
taking her bra from her mouth.
"Go," he read her need. "We`ll talk later."
Much relieved, Rita did as she`d been instructed. He hadn`t said anything about crawling,
but she did so anyway, on all fours. She looked in the mirror for a long time, twisting
her body so as to see the long red welts he`d put there. She touched them, bringing back
all the pain of before. She touched her nipples, too.
She was so turned on.
Rita hurried into the shower, hoping there would be time for sex. It would be her first
act of infidelity, but with Roger it felt so inevitable. He`d put his mark on her; why not
let him have it all?
In the back of her mind was the nagging question of whether he wanted her, especially
since he`d been pretty clear on the matter, but she was feeling so ebullient now, so close
to him after her beating that she was sure they had this bond.
Rita emerged singing softly from the shower. The water dripping down her ass stung like
hell. She didn`t bother with a towel. Flinging open the door, she ran to find him.
"Conrad?"
He was gone. Not a trace left, just the empty glass on the bar. She walked into the
bedroom, still stunned. To her surprise, there was a business card on it.
Conrad Baines, Developer.
There was an address and several phone numbers. On the back was a note. "Don`t call
me until you`re ready to be punished again. And don`t try and lie, I will know if you`ve
really been bad or not."
It was signed simply "C."
Rita was full of mixed emotions. She was crushed at his departure without so much as a
goodbye, and she was miffed at this dumb message. On the other hand, he wasn`t saying no.
In fact, he was challenging her. To be bad.
Could she really do it? Could she deliberately get herself in enough trouble to earn
herself another beating from Conrad? Better still, what if she upped the ante? What would
it take, she wondered, to get the man to punish her not only with his belt but with his
cock.
A disciplinary fucking, rough and hard. By her own consent. How good that sounded, given
her current state of arousal.
Rita dressed herself, her head buzzing with ideas, her pussy still on fire. She was going
to do it, she`d find a way.
But first she`d have to figure out how to hide this ass whipping from her husband.
If there was anyone who could help it would be Frank. He might furnish just the excuse to
get her out of town for a night or two. If she had to, she would give up some of her
commissions.
"Frank," she said, speaking into her cell phone a minute later. "I have a
huge favor to ask. Roger and I were hoping to get away for a night or two; any chance we
could use one of those cabins the company has out past Pleasant Ridge?"
"Sure," Frank said. "Use number five, key`s under the mat. Hey, what
happened to you this afternoon, anyway?"
"Fucker hit me out of nowhere. Had to go to the ER, I`m okay now."
"Good, good."
"Thanks, Frank, you`re the best."
Rita hung up the phone exhilarated. She added up the lies in her head. Two so far. Three
once she accomplished lying to her husband about having to work out of town a couple of
days. At this rate, she was well on her way to earning another session with Conrad.
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