Rhette is Red

Prologue

 

Rhette gripped the handles attached to the table and sucked in a deep breath as she tried to get control of herself. The pain wasn’t terrible but it was more than she had been expecting. Just as she got her breathing under control the paddle came down sharply across her buttocks and she let out her breath with a heaving sob. Tears burst out of her eyes and she lost what little control she had.

It was what they wanted.

“Beautiful.” The person speaking the word wasn’t Nick. It was a feminine voice and it purred as Rhette continued to cry, her tears and sobbing punctuated by the sound of nick swishing the paddle through the air.

 

 

Chapter One

 

“Do I need to remove…do I have to take off…” Rhette found she was unable to actually ask the question which was stupid because she was paying for this and she was supposed to be in charge.

The tall man with a shock of dark hair that kept falling into his eyes grinned at her. “Take off whatever you feel comfortable removing,” he said. Nick. Nick was his name. Was it short for Nicholas? He was friendly, but that had to be part of the service, right? “I’ve done it with my clients wearing jeans and wearing nothing at all. It’s up to you.”

Client. She was a client.

Rhette wiggled out of her pants. They were a little too tight, but that was the problem with having a fat ass. While she told herself she needed to lose only twenty pounds to have a great body, it seemed every time she lost a tiny bit of weight, it came from everywhere but her ass. Nick said nothing as she undressed. He didn’t even comment on the thong she was wearing. Rhette didn’t wear thongs; she knew her ass was too big. But here she was in the very clean workshop of a man who offered BDSM services and equipment wearing a thong while he leered at her.

Except he wasn’t leering at her. He was politely waiting.

Why in the hell did she send him an email request? She knew why. She found his website because all things BDSM intrigued her and she quickly figured out that his workshop was less than an hour from her home. It was too much to resist.

The workshop smelled like freshly cut wood and leather and wood stain. She tried to push from her mind the idea that the smells reminded her of her father’s workshop attached to their house when she was growing up.

She had kicked off her shoes in order to get her pants off, leaving her in her socks and shirt. Feeling ridiculous with the socks, she pulled them off as well, tossing them on top of her pants. “Should I take off my shirt?” she asked.

Nick smiled and shrugged. “Whatever makes you the most comfortable.”

Her pink blouse was tight. She had gained a little weight since she had purchased it. Underneath the pink blouse she was wearing a black lace bra that was doing a good job of keeping her large tits under control. The bra and thong were a matching set, bought for just this special occasion. But the lace was definitely see-through which had excited her in the store, but now at the moment of truth, she was getting shy. What could Nick see?

She knew the answer was practically everything and still she took off her shirt. The buttons were already straining so it was easy to pop them open. Glancing down once, carefully dropping the shirt on top of the pants, she noted her nipples were clearly visible through the lace and were erect, making large dents in the material. The correct thing to feel was humiliation, but Rhette didn’t know what she thought.

Finding a bit of courage, she walked the few steps over to the bench Nick had indicated. The floor was cold; concrete with some sort of rubberized, non-skid surface. The bench was wooden, nothing more than a glorified sawhorse. But there was a nice pad made of leather that was soft to lean against. The bench took her weight and she found it surprisingly comfortable.

“Lean forward,” Nick instructed.

When she did her hands reached out for support and automatically grabbed a pair of handles placed for this awkward position she was placing herself in. Her ass was exposed. She was leaning forward. It was exciting and scary. The handles she was holding had thick metal rings embedded through the thick wood. She knew what the rings were there for, but they weren’t going to be used today.

“Comfortable?” Nick asked.

“Yes,” she replied automatically and then nervously laughed. “Well, as comfortable as I can be like this.”

“The height is adjustable. But try spreading your feet a little further apart.”

She did so and what little strain she had was eased even as the back of her thong disappeared between her buttocks. It was like she was naked. All but naked.

Not wanting things to proceed even though she wanted them to proceed, she delayed with conversation. “How much does this cost?” she asked running her hands over the handle grips and highly polished wood.

“Base cost is fifteen hundred dollars, but I’ve had custom orders go over three thousand.”

“Jesus!”

“People like their toys,” he commented. “Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to try out the straps?” he asked.

It was why she had come to his workshop, but she still wanted to say no. “Yes.”

“I’ll start with something easy. The leather shop I work with does most of their business for horses. They’re actually a high-end tack and saddle shop. But they have a large side business with well…this.”

He brandished the implement in front of her. A wooden handle connected to a three-foot-long leather strap. On the wall not too far in front of her were other whips, quirts, canes, and more implements of torture and delight.

“The leather is soft and supple, wide enough for impact play without leaving welts. It won’t break the skin. Ready to try it out?”

Rhette couldn’t speak. Her mouth was dry. She wrapped her fingers around the grips and nodded her head. It was all she could do.

“Safe word is ‘red’,” Nick said, stepping back. “Or ‘safeword’. Or ‘snake.’ I’ve used all of them. Or you can just stand up and I’ll stop, okay?”

She nodded again, unwilling to let her voice betray her fear.

“Let’s begin,” he said.

There was no long pause, no warm up. There was just the whistle of the leather through the air and then a burning sensation across both cheeks of her ass. Rhette wanted to scream, but didn’t. She clamped her lips together and just made a quick moaning noise. Her body jerked and she savored the pain.

There was a long pause before the next blow. Was he waiting for a signal from her? Was he drawing out the moment to torment her? Was he letting the pain start throbbing from the one swat he had given her? Right as that happened he laid the leather strap across her ass a second time and she had the same reaction. Her body jerked. She stifled a scream. Her knees trembled a bit. “Jesus that’s good,” she whispered at the pain flared on her skin.

“My name’s not Jesus,” Nick said good-naturedly and right as she started to laugh, he lashed her again.

“Ooh!” This time her verbal reaction was clearly audible. She was certain her ass was either on fire or she had a third-degree sunburn. Nick laid down his tool and moved behind her. Rhette kept her eyes focused on the implements hanging from the wall, wondering which he would choose. The sound of him moving something large behind her came to her ears and then Nick walked into her line of sight carrying a large hand mirror.

She didn’t want to see herself because she was certain the tears that had started to squeeze out had ruined her makeup. But he didn’t make her look at her face; instead Nick expertly angled the mirror so that when she looked up into it, she saw herself gazing at a large free-standing mirror he had rolled behind her.

Rhette’s ass, in all of its large and curvy glory, had three large red stripes across it.

She wetted her lips with her tongue, her saliva having miraculously returned. “It’s beautiful,” she heard herself say and at the same time she wondered what was wrong with her. The black string on her thong wasn’t visible between her cheeks, but she saw where it split into a T and curved around her hips.

“You have lovely pale skin.”

“And a lot of freckles,” she said sourly,

“Not on your ass,” he replied. “That’s the conundrum for redheads, isn’t it? Perfectly pale skin so eager to freckle.”

Rhette glanced at her shoulders that were covered with permanent freckles even though it wasn’t even the start of summer yet. “Can you do more?” she asked him, not wanting to talk about her body.

“Can you take the pain?”

“Yes,” she said boldly.

“That’s why you see so many redheads in the BDSM scene,” he said as he put down the mirror and moved back behind her. “They can take the pain.” His arm moved fast and another red stripe erupted on her ass. She gasped at the pain and felt herself getting wet between her legs. “I can’t tell you how many women I’ve seen with dyed red hair. They aren’t fooling anyone.” The fifth strike was right at the bottom of her ass, right at the top edge of her thighs. She gasped again.

The pain was lovely.

“More,” she begged, surprising both herself and Nick. Though Rhette couldn’t see it, Nick nodded once to himself and adjusted his shoulders. He’d gotten a good measure of her and now he’d see if she lived up to what she promised.

He let her have a quick succession of five blows with the strap. They came too quickly for Rhette to react individually to each one; she just stood there, bent over, mostly in shock, as Nick’s arm became a blur which turned her ass into a field of fire.

“Done,” he said when he had completed the five.

There was a pause between his word and the full effect of the five blows, and then pain hit her. She didn’t gasp in surprise or scream in pain. Instead, she just burst into tears.

Nick didn’t offer her any comfort. She didn’t want him to comfort her. She just wanted the pain and to enjoy it on her own. She was an independent woman who knew what she wanted; she just had trouble admitting it to someone else.

“More?” he asked.

Rhette straightened her back and shook her head slowly. “No. That was…that was lovely.” As she backed up from the spanking bench, she stumbled, her knees suddenly going weak but Nick caught her before she could fall to the floor.

“Thank you,” she said. She was gripping one of his forearms and one of his biceps. His muscles weren’t huge, but they were incredibly firm. Wetting her lips with her tongue she said, “I’m really horny right now. Would you—”

He cut her off before she could finish the question. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that for you.”

With those words, she was both crushed, but figured he had to be gay. What man would spank a woman for money and then not want to fuck her? A gay man, obviously.

“That’s fine,” she said, hiding the disappointment from her voice. “I just need to cool down a little before I can…before I can go home.”

“I’ll bring you a cold pack for your bottom,” he said, getting her to her feet.

“I should have brought my vibrator,” she said regretfully. “I’m so horny.”

“I can leave you alone if you’d like to get yourself off,” he offered.

“You wouldn’t leave a lady alone, would you?” she asked, leaning back against the spanking bench, but only resting her thigh against it. Her bottom was too sensitive for any pressure.

“Not if you don’t want me to.”

Staring into her brilliant blue eyes, Rhette slipped her fingers into her thong, sliding them over the little triangular patch of hair before curling them up into her pussy. Nick didn’t seem the least upset or offended that a woman was masturbating next to him. He did take a step back and watched her but didn’t do anything else.

Rhette put her other hand into her bra and pinched a nipple. Her pussy was awash with her desire, her clit faintly thrumming with need. It only took a few busy strokes of her hand before her entire body trembled and she threatened to fall down again. The orgasm she had wasn’t extremely powerful, but considering that her only foreplay was a leather strap to her ass ten times and then fifteen seconds of jilling, there was no reason she would have a powerful climax.

As it was Nick still needed to catch her before she fell. “Was that okay?” she asked, suddenly embarrassed because of her behavior.

“That was fine. Most of my clients get themselves off when I’m done.”

“Oh.”

“How about that cold pack now?” he asked.

“Yes. Please.”

 

 

Chapter Two

 

The next day while she was in the classroom, Rhette found she wasn’t able to sit down on the stool she had in front of the whiteboard. A few of her students commented on her slow, unsteady steps, but she made up a convincing lie of slipping on the slippery steps to her house and landing ungracefully on her ass. The entire class giggled politely. She liked her students. Community college meant they were adults and she didn’t have to reprimand their every unconscious slip of the tongue but she still demanded respect in the classroom.

If only they knew the truth of why she couldn’t walk correctly.

The thought was embarrassing, but it also made her pussy wet. Rhette had trouble getting through the day. The office space she had was shared with two other instructors so she couldn’t take care of her problem there. She was reduced to using the private, single occupant faculty bathroom where she could safely lock the room and jill herself off to release the tension that had been building during the day.

After getting herself off, she inspected, as best she could, her ass. The redness had faded, which was only natural. The bruising wasn’t as bad as she had expected, but it hurt like hell. If she was a bolder woman, she would have taken pictures of her butt and posted them on the internet.

Rhette wasn’t that sort of woman.

But she wanted to be.

Her office hour was the worst. Usually she had a few students come in asking questions and wanting help on the latest assignment. Today, however, it was Austin who stopped by to see her. The boy was handsome, but was also as dumb as a bag of broken hammers. She had carefully explained to him over and over the basic mathematical processes they were supposed to be learning and had suggested the tutoring center as well. But even so, she couldn’t determine if he was just renting empty space behind his eyeballs, or was willfully stupid.

“Do you dye your hair?” he unexpectedly asked her.

“What?” She was taken aback by the question and shifted uncomfortably in her padded chair. By now she was used to most of the off-topic questions her students called out, but somehow Austin managed to make her stumble.

“It’s very pretty and looks so natural, but don’t most redheads go gray when they get old, like thirty or so?”

She didn’t know how to unpack all that his question implied. Apparently in his eyes, she was already old. “It’s natural,” she said curtly. “I couldn’t justify the expense of dying it all the time.”

“Oh. Then you look a lot younger than you actually are,” he said with a smug grin.

He was maybe twenty and wouldn’t make it to twenty-one if he kept saying those things to women. Some girl he was dating would kill him as a favor to the gene pool.

“I can give you five more minutes of my time, Austin. Then I have an appointment. You’ll have to go to the tutoring center.”

After the five minutes, she made him leave. Jonathan, the other instructor in the office space popped up over the divider between their desks.

“You shouldn’t let him speak to you like that,” the older man said.

“He’s so clueless he doesn’t know what he’s saying,” she replied, dismissing Jonathan’s concern and Austin’s mental abilities

The only thing to do then was to leave office and jill off in the bathroom. Again. And she didn’t even find Austin all that attractive. He was young and dumb, but he probably had a big cock that would make her hurt when he fucked her.

 

“I’m glad you came back,” Nick said as she shimmied out of her pants and took off her top without a second thought. The workshop was the same and she liked the feel of the non-skid floor under her feet.

“You must get a lot of repeat customers,” Rhette said as she approached the spanking bench.

“Some. A lot just want to try it out once. A lot find someone else—usually a romantic partner—they want to spank them. They just needed me to help them decide they needed to move forward on that relationship.”

Rhette nodded and leaned over the bench, grabbing the handles. She had moved on from a thong to a G-string and even wearing the tiny bit of lingerie under her pants it seemed like a lot. She considered removing it entirely for when Nick applied the whip to her ass, but she liked the decoration it gave her. It seemed sexier to have on something rather than nothing.

“That makes sense.” She chuckled ruefully. “And I don’t have a romantic partner at the moment.”

Nick didn’t comment on her romantic status. “Did you bruise?”

“Yes, I had a few, but they weren’t terrible.”

“They’ve healed nicely. Do you like the bruising? Some women like to show them off.”

“I don’t care about the bruises. I just like the…like the…”

“You like the thrill of the pain.”

She nodded and noticed that Nick had placed a mirror on the far wall where she could see herself. Rhette looked away, focusing on the tools on the wall.

“I do,” she said. “Does it upset you that I know I’m going to jill off when you’re done with me?”

Nick laughed. “No. Not at all. I consider it a compliment.”

She considered asking him about his romantic partner, if any, but she didn’t want to get involved in a discussion of his sexuality. She wasn’t there for him, but for her. Instead, she asked, “What are you going to do to me today?” It was important not to discuss too much of her personal life.

“What do you want me to do to you today? We started out with the easier strap. I can suggest something with more impact that will definitely cause bruising if we apply some hot towels right after, or something thin and hard that will leave stripes, if that’s something you’d like.”

“Like a cane?” she asked a little too eagerly.

“Not a cane exactly. I’d want to work with you a little more first. I was thinking perhaps a thin braided whip. Almost like a riding quirt. Or a cat o’ nine tails. Very painful.”

“The braided whip,” Rhette decided because the name of the second implement of torture sounded too scary or bizarre for her.

“Would you like me to restrain your hands?” he asked.

Rhette looked down at the thick metal rings set into the wooden handles.

“No. I don’t think that’s necessary,” she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

“A bold and strong woman. I like it,” Nick said admiringly. “Are you ready?”

That was it. No warm up. It was just her taking off her pants and bending over to receive the blows. That was it.

“Yes,” she said with determination she didn’t actually feel.

Rhette was determined to give as a good a performance this week as she had the previous week, mostly for her own pride but for some reason she didn’t want to disappoint Nick either.

The blaze of the braided leather across the twin mounds of her ass caused Rhette’s eyes to go wide. The pain was much more focused, much more intense. Her bod jumped and she wanted to scream, but she didn’t. She didn’t so much make a squeak.

“Did you like that?” Nick asked.

“No,” she said with determination.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Very good.”

This time he made the impacts of the whip come in a slow, steady beat. Rhette kept her lips clamped tightly together to prevent making any untoward noise, but by the time he got to number six, she was freely sweating from the pain and she wanted to wipe away the tears that were forming in the corners of her eyes.

“Do you want a break?” he offered.

“No. Keep going.” She spoke the words through clenched teeth.

“You’re crying.” She looked up at him in the mirror and realized he had placed it there for his benefit, not hers.

“Just a little. I’m not used to the pain. Don’t stop.”

He flicked out the whip; it didn’t look like he put that much effort into it. It was still enough to make her shudder. “Are you sure?”

“Y-y-y-yes.” She hated how her voice gave her away.

“I don’t think you are.”

“Jesus! Finish the job!” she all but screamed at him. “I’m paying for this!”

“It’s your dollar,” he admitted with a shrug and flicked out the whip several more times and then paused as she was gasping and her knees were buckling. It took all of her effort to stay on her feet.

“If I had restrained your wrists, it would have been easier to stay on your feet,” he pointed out, which only pissed her off further. She wanted the pain, but the pleasure was slow in coming. “I could do it now. I can even restrain your knees so you can’t fall.”

Rhette had felt the hollows in the bench where her knees fit in and imagined it was an easy thing to accomplish, but she wanted to endure the torture she was putting herself under on her own. “No. Keep going. How many more do I have to go?”

“As many as you want,” Nick told her. “You have my services for an hour.”

“More,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

He laid the whip across her ass one more time and she shuddered. The climax she wanted was right there, almost within reach. Her knuckles were white as she kept a firm grip on the rubber-covered metal handles. One of her knees gave way but she quickly recovered.

“Are you going to faint or cum?” he asked her, implying she was too weak to endure what he was dishing out.

“Cum,” she said boldly. She didn’t feel that bold.

“Do you want me to make you cum?”

“I thought you didn’t…you didn’t do that.”

“I have my tricks.” He idly cut the whip through the air and she winced at the sound.

“Do it.”

“Spread your legs wider,” he ordered. “And lock your knees.”

The unpadded edge of the spanking bench cut into her abdomen, but that was a mild irritant at best. Nick didn’t give her any warning or time to prepare once she was in position. He just snapped his wrist and there was a bloom of fire inside her right thigh.

“Argh!” This time she actually screamed. The flesh inside her thigh was super-sensitive compared to her ass.

But her moment of intense pain was quickly wiped away when he did the exact same thing to her left thigh. Now she actually was crying silently. Tears dribbled down her cheeks and she wanted it to stop and at the same time, she wanted to cum.

“Ready?” Nick asked her. It was the only time he had ever offered a bit of preparation. “Are you ready to cum?”

“Yes,” she said, practically begging him to come fuck her. That would have been her dream, but Nick was undoubtedly gay and nothing she had interested him.

The whip cracked through the air again. She was expecting it to snake across the backs of her thighs or to painfully cut into her well-added ass, but Rhette was pleasantly surprised when the tawsed end tickled at the entranced to her pussy. She was wearing the thin G-string and the impact was barely felt through the silk, but just the fact that her sex was so open and exposed scared the hell out of her.

It was the first time that Rhette had an orgasm without a hard, firm hand or cock to her pussy and clit. She came when she realized that his whip could have permanently scarred her pussy. Just the thought alone was more than she could bear.

It wasn’t an intense orgasm, but it was the most unusual one she had ever had. Her hands slipped from the rubber grips and her knees gave way. Collapsing on the floor, her body quivered for another half minute before she was able to get control of herself.

“Did that meet your needs?” Nick asked as he approached her, a smug smile on his face. Strictly speaking he wasn’t supposed to manipulate her body in a manner that would cause her to climax, but he knew exactly what he was doing and wanted to show off his skill.

“Yesss,” she drawled out. “But I still want more. I want to cum again.”

He knelt down to help her back onto her feet, but Rhette moved quickly. Her hand snaked out and ran all the way along his inseam until she reached his crotch. Nick was surprised by her move and didn’t initially react, even when her hand closed around his cock.

“Oh, fuck yes,” she hissed. “You’re incredibly hard. Please, please fuck me. I need it. I won’t tell anyone. Please.” Her words sounded pathetic, even to her, but her need was too strong to just ignore what her body wanted.

“No,” he said firmly, moving her hand away from his tool. “I can’t.”

“I promise no one will know.”

He laughed and stood up but left her on the floor. She felt pathetic now. He was gay and had no interest in her. The awkward pass—or sexual assault from a certain perspective—only embarrassed her.

Nick took a step back and unzipped his jeans. For just half a second she thought that maybe she was going to get her wish, but then his cock came into view and whatever hope she had was rudely crushed.

At first she thought he just had an extremely dark-colored cock, but that wasn’t it at all. A cage of metal surrounded his flesh. It was black metal, unpolished and permanently attached to his body. She saw the small padlock that kept it in place and she wondered how much it hurt when he got an erection. Then she wondered why he would agree to wear such a device.

“I’m sorry,” she quickly apologized. “I didn’t mean to…” Her words were pathetic, even to her own ears. She obviously meant to and was only apologizing for her own humiliation and awkward gesture.

“It isn’t that my wife doesn’t trust me,” Nick said, tucking his caged cock back into his jeans. “It’s that she likes to have full control over my sexuality. To be honest, it’s a bit of a thrill. It makes sex better when she takes it off.”

“I…I thought you were gay,” Rhette said lamely, which made nick laugh.

“No. Just a man too in love with his own wife.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” She started to struggle back to her feet.

“Wait,” he said. “You promised me you were going to jill off. I want to watch that.”

She looked at him and then realized it was a half-promise she had made. Sitting carefully on the rubberized floor, her ass still aching from the whipping he had given her, she pulled her G-string aside, revealing her red-crowned pussy, and stuck her fingers inside. She was incredibly wet and slick and although she had already cum, she was ready for another orgasm. It took very little time or effort to push her over the edge again, and she looked proudly up at Nick when she was done.

“Very sexy,” he complimented her. “I can’t wait to tell my wife. It’ll make things hot for us tonight…whether or not she unlocks me.”

 

After leaving Nick’s workshop and torture chamber, Rhette very carefully sat down in the seat of her car and breathed a sigh of relief at the comfortable padding. Her first instinct was to grab her phone to start the plan she had to relieve the urge that was still in her loins, but she had the good presence of mind to drive away from the somewhat isolated location of the workshop and pull over at the first Stewart’s store she drove past.

Her bottom was still sore, but that didn’t stop her needs.

Rhette had too many dating and hookup apps on her phone. She chose the one she used the most often and started quickly running through the possibilities for a casual encounter that evening. Sitting in her car she sent out more messages and invites than she cared to think about. That was the best way to deal with her needs at the moment, just act and don’t think about it. Thinking about it, thinking in general, hadn’t gotten her what she wanted.

On the fifteen-minute drive home she heard her phone buzzing with replies to her messages. Each time it buzzed she felt her pussy getting wetter, but she exerted great self-control and didn’t look at any of them until her car was parked in the driveway. Rhette congratulated herself on her further self-control by taking the time to walk inside before she looked at the replies. Only then did she luxuriate in the many responses. Too many were overly aggressive or just obnoxious. Even so, it was easy to pick out one that suited her needs.

Jordan was a few years younger than her and either had a thing for redheads or slightly older women or was just desperate to get laid. He had the look of a lot of her students and she tried not to think about that as she invited him inside her place.

“Usually I meet my dates at a coffee shop or bar,” he said, looking around her house. It wasn’t huge or overly impressive, but it was hers and she was proud of it. “I don’t think I’ve ever been invited over to a date’s house first.”

“It makes things easier,” Rhette said, leading him back to the kitchen and small dining area. She had set out some glasses and bottles, but didn’t have any intention of using them.

“Easier?”

“Why meet at some place and have to come back to someone’s house to have sex when it’s just easier to just meet at the house and have sex.”

It took Jordan a moment to digest what she was saying. “Usually there’s a…a date first,” he said lamely.

Rhette smiled at him like she would smile at one of her students who suddenly realized a universal fact that everyone else already knew. “I’m not interested in a boring conversation and an overpriced and oversized restaurant meal. I’m just interested in sex. Then maybe a date.”

“Oh.” Jordan’s face was blank. Either he couldn’t believe his good luck or he thought he was being played.

The dress that Rhette was wearing was covered in green and yellow flowers. It was cut low enough to show off some cleavage but at the same time it was still respectable. Reaching behind her back, Rhette, pulled down the zipper and let it fall from her body. Standing in front of her, Jordan’s mouth dropped open at her forwardness. He normally had to put on hours of charm and politeness in order to get a woman into bed. This was too easy.

Striking a pose that she hoped was both casual and sexy, Rhette asked, “Care to go to the bedroom?” She could feel his eyes on her, check out some of her too large curves and inspecting every inch of her skin and lingerie. She was wearing shoes, no stockings, bright yellow panties that were as far from a thong as possible, but still sexy, and a bra that kept everything in place but still looked good under her dress, even though she wasn’t wearing it any longer.

“Um…sure?”

She laughed at him and beckoned the way. Maybe she put a little more wiggle into her walk than necessary, but that was part of the fun.

The moment she walked into the bedroom, which she had thoroughly cleaned and picked up and changed the sheets while waiting for Jordan to arrive, he suddenly pressed up against her, wrapping his arms around her body. She could feel his cock, already hard, against her lower back. Turning her head, he ducked his head down and kissed her. For Jordan it was a crazy experience because it was never this easy for him. For Rhette, it was thrilling because it had been far too long since she had gotten properly fucked.

His hand went into her bra, found her nipple, and pinched it. She moaned in her throat and pressed harder into him. His other hand found the hooks to her bra and in a moment the garment was off and on the floor. His hands were everywhere on her body except he showed that he was a gentleman and didn’t dip into her panties.

Rhette stepped out of her shoes, which dropped her down a few more inches compared to him. Jordan took the opportunity to back up and yank off his shirt. She glanced over her shoulder at his muscular chest and nodded in approval. Still not wanting to mess up his golden opportunity, Jordan went down to his knees and kissed the small of her back while placing his fingers on the elastic of her panties. “May I?” he asked.

She liked both his polite nature and his good grammar.

“Of course. Why do you think you’re here?”

He looked up at her and grinned, then slowly lowered her panties over the ample curve of her ass.

When her bare skin came into view he gasped, not because she was now fully naked, but because of the state of the skin on her ass. The welts had faded slightly along with the redness, but she was still very pink and bruises were starting to form.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “What happened to you?”

“My dom whipped me today, but doesn’t fuck me. That’s why I’m fucking you tonight.” She did her best to adopt the attitude that she wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed, when in fact she was both of those. It dawned upon her right then that maybe, just maybe, that was part of the thrill.