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“Why are you leaving without saying goodbye?” he leveled his objection tersely.
“You looked busy.”
“So, this is just fuck and run?”
“No, no, no, I thought that’s all you…”
“You thought wrong, Gail. I don’t screw every woman who walks in the theatre. I don’t do groupies, and I’m not the kind of man to fuck and run. Is that all you wanted?”
“I don’t know what I want, but this was just so…” my words ran dry, “astounding.”
“And being astounded is probably good for you. I want you to come back.” He looked sincerely worried.
“I don’t know if I can,” I said as if I were drifting. A sea of sensation swelled around me.
“You’re sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, and I have to go—so do you.” I smiled and retreated to my Mercedes, feeling a tiny trickle of KC’s cum wet on the insides of my panties as my sore behind wiggled against the seat.
Chapter Three
If I thought this one impulsive spanking session would assuage the desire in me, I was a fool. If I thought KC Gable would vanish from my thoughts, I was an even greater fool. If I thought that Rossi had disappeared from my life, then I was truly kidding myself. My mind now swarmed with fantasies of spanking, of KC and Rossi. The essence of their effect on me endlessly colored my mood, creating submissive pictures of me in poses of surrender. The desire for exacting even ruthless discipline at the hands of such commanding personalities threw my body into a frenzy of physical excitement. Every minute of my day was influenced by this lust, the dreamy abandon having lifted my life above the mundane. My obsession became a friend. So much an obsession that daily, I repelled the desire to storm KC’s theatre demanding he spank me again.
Rossi was less conspicuous in my thoughts, often appearing to me in the middle of the night when I’d awaken and a slip of his memory would return from some forgotten niche in the back of my mind.
She was seated on her drafting stool, wearing the plaid skirt he’d just purchased for her. It was more colorful than the greys and beiges he normally had her wear. She should have been pleased, though now the scratchy fabric on her recently caned behind was so annoying that she wanted to rip it off. That would be an egregious error, however, and knowing that, she endured this torment in silence, waiting for Rossi to lift his edict.
She heard his voice behind her, “Gail, your attention, please.” His cold, clear words felt like shards of ice inside her brain.
“Yes, sir.”
“I have friends who would like to see your ass.”
She blushed as she turned around, seeing three pairs of eyes looking at her, admiringly, with interest and an undercurrent of lurid anticipation.
“Here? Now? I was in the middle of this drawing you wanted to have me…”
“Now!” he interrupted her abruptly. “Now.”
How his eyes did gleam!
“Yes, sir,” she answered meekly. She was filled with anticipation and her emotions raw. Though terribly embarrassed, she stood and turned to face the men.
“Now bend over the arm of the chair,” Rossi continued.
She silently followed the command.
“Raise your skirt,” he went on.
She did as ordered, drawing the smooth, straight skirt up her legs and tugging it over her ass, revealing her naked behind. It was a pearly shade of white, which had been etched with no less than a dozen lines of red—imprints of the cane that Rossi applied that morning to correct her misbehavior.
“Once Miss Henry has been disciplined, I strip her of her panties so that she’s forced to feel the effect for as long as possible. Good woolen fabric has the tendency to augment the experience. This miscreant needs that sort of reminder.”
Three pairs of eyes stared at her bottom, seeming to heat the surface without laying a single hand on the wounded skin. She clenched inside, trying to suck her sexual juices back inside her cunt. To have these ghouls see them trickle down her thighs would just increase her shame.
“I would imagine she would feel some tautness to her flesh in the next few days?” one of the gentleman speculated.
“I’m sure,” Rossi reported. “These will stay for some time.”
