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“I need a man for that.”
“You want to buy a paddle or strap, I can arrange that, too.”
Not expecting to be so easily accommodated, Jocelyn backed off. This was just an innocent exploration of a sex shop, wasn’t it?
“Which one do you like?” The girl pulled her pussy off her seat so the short leather skirt managed to cover her sufficiently. A case on the opposite wall displayed leather paddles and short straps that Jocelyn knew from experience made a sensuous smack against bare flesh. Reggie’s store of implements had been collected before she met him. Jocelyn always wondered where he found these especially designed wares that had such a devilish purpose.
Noting that each tooled piece of leather made her body’s lust acute, she recognized the signs of sexual obsession urging her to some alarming choice. She pointed to a slapper inside the glass case, ten inches long, she estimated, and three inch wide with marble sized holes in the stiff rectangular hide. She imagined stern sensations in just a smack or two of the awesome thing.
“I want that one,” she said, at first thinking she’d take it home and use it on herself. Hungry for the stimulation, passionately in need of something dark to set her off, the obsession was moving swiftly along to a rightfully sane conclusion. But that ended when a man walked out from the room behind the shop. An ass kicker. Like Gus, Reggie’s foreman at their country estate, or like one of the burly Germans that she’d seen top submissives in German clubs. He loomed over her like god’s wrath incarnate, and she was sure that Reggie would smile to see her first alarmed response. Bald head, goatee, he should have been wearing leather, but was dominant enough in black jeans and a black shirt that draped his muscled chest.
“You say you want to be spanked?” he asked her.
“I said I wanted to buy that slapper,” she answered.
“Not if I don’t get to use it.” He eyed her gravely.
As if to suggest that he was being too presumptuous, Jocelyn drew up in a pinched expression that came from annoyance and puzzlement. All that was ignoring the gnawing need between her legs. Her bottom burned before even a strike was landed. There would be no question whether to submit if Reggie had been right there; but with her husband due home from Japan any day, the risk to her monogamous agreement with him posed a dilemma.
The burly man placed his hands on either end of the counter that separated them and stared down at the leather implement. “You don’t look at all content, lady, if you don’t mind my observation. Let’s just say I warm your ass the way you want.”
Dominant men make assumptive proposals, and Jocelyn’s obsessive need was basking in that kind of mind control.
“And you’ll take pictures?” Jocelyn asked, noting a camera behind the counter. It was an impetuous request, but it suited her mood.
“We can do that too. Libra here gets off on photographing sessions,” he nodded to the girl.
In the room behind the shop, there were boxes and a few chairs. On one chair Jocelyn placed her folded skirt after she’d let it drop to the cement floor. On another the Dom sat waiting for her ass. A soft fluff of red, cream white skin and a sticky wet pubis were revealed when she stood facing the man. He might have been seduced by the perfection of a lady in expensive clothes, but he was Dom enough not to care about her pedigree or her wealth. She was just a submissive, and she was going to pay for whatever crimes remained in her mind unresolved. It wasn’t his to question the woman, only his good luck to know she needed his attention. Some man had done his work well to have this peach of a lady giving him so little flack.
“It won’t take long,” he advised her. She stood for one second before him, and the next was guided by his powerful hands to a humbled position over his lap, her ass end high. Two steps away, the young woman snapped pictures of all the important moments: the exposure, the positioning, and then of course the results when there was a crimson pair of ass cheeks getting more roughed up with each strike of the leather.
That Jocelyn cried her eyes out, and kicked with abandon, didn’t seem to matter to anyone in the room. The girl caught that image, too, of Jocelyn’s tortured face screwed up in agony.
She hadn’t said the ‘safe’ word, ‘Reggie’, so the man kept up the spanking. Though seeing the red on her ass looking liked fire-scorched flesh, he paused one time thinking she might have had enough. When she made no attempt to rise, he continued, letting the woes of the woman affect his most dominant desires. Obviously her need was great, and that produced great need in him. Like submissive and dominant should be, they were as harmonious in the task as any determined dominant and wailing submissive.
Jocelyn was sopping between her thighs when the spanking was over. She never did say her ‘safe’ word; rather there seemed a natural rise and fall of emotion that spelled the beginning and the end. In the man’s last glance at the well-worked behind, he saw it marred with streaks that wouldn’t fade, and noted places where there’d be small bruises by morning.
When he dropped the pretty woman to her knees in front of him and withdrew his erection, she was obliged to pay for the favor. While the camera continued to chronicle the episode, Jocelyn took his mean organ in her mouth and sucked until every trace of lipstick had disappeared and he spewed cum on her mascara smudged face. With her hot, naked ass resting on the cold cement, Jocelyn was satisfied, even if her loins still burned hot.
“You got some man to take care of your cunt?” the man asked her.
“Maybe,” she whispered.
“Let me see your tits.”
Still submissively inclined, she opened the suit jacket and raised the silk teddy so he could see the rest of her.
“You need a Dom, I’ll do the chore,” he told her.
“Thank you, you’ve been enough for one day. But the pictures?” She pulled down the teddy and started to rise from the floor. “How about I buy the memory card?”
“I’ve got other images on that I’ll need to download first. Truth is the computer is down, and til Roscoe fixes it, I can’t do nothing with that memory card.”
“Then I’ll stop by and pick it up.”
She was on her feet, putting her skirt on over her wounded bottom, letting the lovely feeling of warmth settle inside where it would remain until she was in her car and could masturbate herself to a climax.
“Couple of days. I can call you,” he replied.
