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“Oh, please, Reggie!” She was beginning to sob.
She heard the whizzing sound, recognizing it as the beginning of the pain. The fifth cut landed.
“Oh, not another one!” she pleaded with him. Though the sixth cut followed fast.
As soon as he was finished with the six, Reggie was on her backside. He steadied her with his hands and began to massage her, the warm caress combining with the hot heat of her aching bottom. She was sobbing and groaning again, though it was purely sexual this time.
He unzipped his pants and withdrew his erection. Parting her legs, he felt for the soft mellow warmth of her pussy. With an unexpected tenderness, he entered that delicious female space and began his rhythmic movements. Becoming more vigorous with each thrust, he gathered her close to him in his arms so they moved as one body. His quick orgasm hit them both hard, the final sharp thrust exploding places in her where she never knew there was such rich sensation. His hands completed what his cock had begun, bringing her to a final orgasmic spasm as she rocked against him, writhing and groaning, not wanting the pleasure to end.
His arms remained around her, even when his climax was over, and hers was just a memory, even when the stifling air began to cool. She fell back against his chest, against the starched shirt that was wet and wrinkled, where she could feel the buckle of his belt on her back, and the scratchy feel of his pants rubbing on her raw bottom.
“Did you cut the skin?” she asked him.
“Is that what you want?”
“No!”
“I could have done that with the cane, you know.”
“And it would have hurt even more?” she wondered.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been caned.”
“But did you cut the skin?” she asked again.
“No, I didn’t. I didn’t want to.”
His hands roamed her body, caressing her breasts, and dropping lower to fondle her between her legs. She could have easily come again.
“Will you have me once more?” she asked, a little more submissively than Jocelyn Killian would have before.
It was a request no dominant should grant with a submissive so fresh and untested. Perhaps it had been a mistake holding her so long after the cumming was over. She assumed too much. Reggie was certain of that. But the thought of another few minutes wrapped arm in arm was too appealing to ignore, and the thought of taking her to a climax again ignited his need to control.
This time he wanted to see her face when she came. In the same back to front position, he toyed with her cunt, bringing her to an edge again, though before she orgasmed, he laid her down on the sleek black coffee table, and forced her legs wide. Making her look him in the eye as he played with her cunt with one hand, he held her hands in his other hand – a strange kind of bondage.
She climaxed with a distinct vacant expression as if she was running away in her own body to some distant place. The look in her eyes faded with her; and when the moment passed, she returned to look at Reggie with a warm smile, her face like that of an innocent seeing something extraordinary for the first time.
Reggie left her lying o
n the table while he scooped up his clothes and retreated to his bathroom at the far end of the office. When he returned a scant five minutes later, he was dressed in impeccable form. Either he was a magician or he had a change of clothes in his bath, Jocelyn thought.
She hadn’t budged, reclining still, legs wide.
“You stay there, and the cleaning staff will have a treat tonight,” Reggie said, when he returned to the room.
She hummed something nonsensical and flashed him a broad Jocelyn Killian smile.
When he was behind the desk again, he took back the air of the cool executive. “Get dressed, darling,” he said, and he began to shuffle through his papers. “You are getting that report I wanted, aren’t you?”
“You mean the one you prevented me from doing all day?” she asked, as she rose from the table.
“I want it before you leave tonight,” he said.
While she dressed, Reggie took a time out from his work to watch Jocelyn straighten the corset, and the hose, in which there was one long horrible run from the toe to the top of the stocking. When she was about to pull the skirt back on, he made her turn around, so he could view her bottom. He said nothing, but watched as she hid away the crisscrossed lines on her ass and zipped the skirt.
“I probably look a sight,” she said with a sigh, turning back to him as she buttoned her jacket.
“You can finish that off in the bath,” he said. “Just don’t take too long. I want to get out of here by eight.”
