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Pushing her down against the chair, Jocelyn’s bottom became a delectable target, raised high and ready, clearly a perfectly spankable butt: two firm cheeks pressed against the tight lycra ski pants. Reggie could almost see the crack between.
Letting his leather belt sing though the air, it landed squarely on the center of Jocelyn’s bottom. She hardly flinched, though then why should she with all the padding between her bare skin and the leather belt. A good dozen repeated smacks, and she was hardly affected by the blast at all.
Deciding he’d never get his message across or vent his own anger, Reggie grabbed the waistband of her pants. Finding no snap or button, he simply jerked them down with a rough yank. The long johns and pants came down at the same time, to reveal her luscious naked buns. Not even the faintest blush had risen on her creamy white dimpled skin.
Jocelyn was flustered not expecting to be so exposed.
“You want it, you’ll get it the ‘right’ way,” Reggie informed her coldly.
“Go ahead, you vile man,” she seethed, even as she grit her teeth, wondering exactly what it would feel like to have herself strapped naked.
She didn’t have long to wait to find out, as Reggie was ready with the belt, laying six swift cuts on the center of her ‘virgin’ behind. The pain was fierce from the beginning, and she cried loudly as the thrilling snap of leather against her skin sent a shock wave though her system that awakened every bit of sexual energy in her body. The crude mix of pain and pleasure was an unexpected aphrodisiac. She’d heard of such things, but would never have believed it without this experience with reality.
The back of the leather chair was a perfect complement to the pain, allowing her to grind her crotch into the soft animal hide as if she was screwing a lover. The impact of each smack just amplified the erotic sensation. It was like dynamite in her highly aroused body. And yet, even as Jocelyn’s sexual heat climbed to a peak, the burn on her bottom was becoming so dear, it was hard to tolerate the pain. And after a time, she began stamping her feet in a little dance, and then issued forth with a lusty howl. “Damn it stop!”
“Oh no,” Reggie responded readily. “You wanted it.”
“But, I don’t now!”
“Then why aren’t you running off?” He punctuated each remark with another snap of leather on her flaming ass. The ruthless dominant could see distinct lines, where the belt hit, but mostly the blush was all just a vibrant red blur on the once white skin. They jiggled as she squirmed, jiggled even more when the belt snapped against them.
After her protest, he modulated his strokes, some soft, some hard, and Jocelyn continued to respond. When he softened, she almost began to purr with delight, and when he laid one or two really fierce smacks on her sore ass, she howled all the more. And still, she didn’t threaten to run, not even once. He could keep this treatment up for a long time, keep the fiery redhead on the verge of ecstasy and pain, happy, crying, bewildered and eventually content when he finally finished. He knew content would come in the end, it always did to any well span
ked submissive, and it would to Jocelyn Killian, too.
Just before the end, he dropped his aim to the lovely swell of tender flesh just at the base of her bottom, and then he drifted lower still to the top of her fine firm thighs, just to allow a new fresh sting to impress on her that this was punishment not just some sexual interlude. She let out a spirited howl and demanded he stop.
But he was finished anyway, and he walked off without saying a word. Reggie returned to his chair, while Jocelyn remained bent over, her red naked bottom exposed to the cool of the air, and the nothingness that remained in place of the hot minutes of spanking.
She was slow to stand, her limbs feeling awkward – the position had been more uncomfortable than she thought.
One quick glance at her flushed face and Reggie could see she’d been crying real tears. And her stare was almost alarming. A little fright, a little awe, and a good deal of lust stared him in the face. And then a sassy smirk.
“I know why you like this,” she said, as she reached down to pull up her pants. It was a bit of a struggle getting the tight garment over her sore posterior.
Reggie looked at her coolly. “Oh?”
“You’re turned on, aren’t you?”
“I punished you Miss Killian for acting like a seven year old brat, why would that turn me on?”
“Because it did me,” she said, as she waltzed toward the man, her green eyes glimmering seductively. She dropped between his legs and moved toward his crotch. Without saying a word, or asking his consent, or even letting on exactly what she had in mind, she reached for the belt that was now at his waist again, and began unfastening it.
“You want more?” Reggie asked, looking down in an uncharacteristic daze.
“Oh, yes, I want more,” she purred, as she licked her lips. She undid the button, and then the zipper, and then reached inside his pants to find a swelling prick. Removing it ever so carefully, her lips were over the head, her whole mouth descending on Reggie’s generous manhood. It only stood to reason that a man like Reggie Harold would have a first class prick.
It was a feat of some magnitude for this woman to get so far inside Reggie’s space, especially on a first night. Not since he was a horny twenty year old had any woman been this forward with him. He was well practiced in keeping females at a distance, only letting in ones that he could clearly control. But this was the dead of winter, in the middle of a blizzard, and this enchantress of a female witch had appeared out of nowhere…maybe somewhere beyond the clouds there was a full moon…
The sensations were too good, unexpected and very strong, too compelling to pass up, too delicious to push away even to maintain his practiced control. Once his cock was rock hard, he lifted the auburn haired woman from his crotch, and pulled her up on his lap. They struggled like teenagers to remove her pants again; but when her bottom was naked, she sat on his cock, the two working together to move her up and down on the contented prick.
She leaned down over his face, her long wavy locks tickling his cheeks as she kissed him with tender lips, and a tongue reaching out to play with his opening mouth.
They groaned together, though not loudly, as if they were respectful of the stolen quality of this moment, both doing something they never would have done on any other occasion.
There must have been a full moon…
She climaxed in the midst of the screwing, sometime just before he did.
