The heady desire in his voice, combined with the scent of his musky cologne, sent juices flowing down her channel. God, she’d missed the smell of his cologne. She nodded and felt herself go forward.
Bent over his knee with her ass in the air, she suddenly realized what was about to happen. Before the thought completely registered, the impact of his hand against her bare skin caused Sara to jump. The sharp bite of pain left a lingering sting and something else. Again, his hand came down, this time on the other cheek. The force of it pulled a whimper from her. She wiggled against him, inadvertently pushing her mound against his leg. The friction on her clit resulted in a delicious ache deep in her core. His hand came down a third time, then a fourth and fifth, and her desire grew. What in the hell was wrong with her? Here she was, nearly thirty years old, bent over his lap, receiving her first spanking in over two deAdams, humiliated and completely turned on.
When his hand came down for the last time, he rested it on her ass. Her heated flesh prickled beneath his touch. Not breaking contact with her skin, he slid his hand down to the apex of her thighs. His fingers glided through her creamy center. “Oh, Sara Beth. You liked that spanking, you naughty girl.” He accented the word naughty by driving a finger deep into her pussy.
Sara gasped at the delicious feel of him fingering her. Shame on you for letting him do that to you. What kind of woman puts her fat ass up in the air for anyone to see? Have you no self-respect? She could hear her mother’s scolding tone even as her body begged for more. She wanted to feel the hard length of his shaft filling her, assuaging the glorious ache throbbing between her thighs, but her mind fought against it. No self-respecting man is going to want an overweight, woman with self-esteem issues who gives herself away at the drop of a hat. He’s just using you to get what he wants. Sara shook away her mental wanderings, intent on not succumbing to the mind games anymore. It was time to follow her instincts, to do what her body wanted her to do.
“Oh, please,” she begged.
“Please what?” His free hand slapped against her ass cheek. The vibration reverberated through her channel. She moaned.
With his name on the tip of her tongue, she barely remembered the rules. “Please, Master,” she managed to squeak. As much as she hated the idea of submitting, the last thing she wanted was for him to stop what he was doing.
“Please what? Tell me what you want, Sara Beth.”
Intent on saying the words, she opened her mouth, then quickly shut it again. What did she want him to do? It wouldn’t be making love, but she couldn’t possibly ask him to fuck her. Even thinking the word caused her to blush.
His finger slipped from her center, then returned, bringing with it one of its mates.
“Oh, God.” She grabbed his leg and dug her nails into the denim. “Tell me what you want me to do or I stop and walk away.”
Unsure if he’d make good on the threat, but unwilling to take the chance, she swallowed her pride once again. “I want you to fuck me, Master.”
He pulled his fingers free, moved her off his lap, and stood.
Thankful that he was going to fulfill her request, Sara felt around for the edge of the bed, then climbed onto the comforter. She’d barely made it onto the mattress when the air around her changed and his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him. “What do you think you’re doing?” he growled in her ear.
“I…I was getting on the bed.”
“Wrong. There will be no missionary position this weekend.” He pulled her to the end of the bed and bent her over the footboard. Sara’s heart beat wildly, slamming against her chest in anticipation.
With her vision still blocked, the sounds of the room seemed louder, magnified. She could hear the teeth on his zipper disengage, the shuffle of clothing, and the tear of foil.
“Spread your legs wider.”
His order was loud and filled with desire, and she realized he wanted to take her nearly as much as she wanted taken.
Sara sucked in a deep breath and moved her legs apart. The cool air of the room brushed against her heated center, sending her desire a notch higher. She wanted to be ashamed of the person she was becoming, the woman excited by naughty sex, but she simply couldn’t bring herself to feel that way. She’d spent too many years being the good girl, playing the nice person, and missing all the fun.
His hands grasped her waist and the head of his shaft licked along her opening. Once, twice, three times, he let the friction of skin against skin drive her wild before moving away.
“God, please,” she begged, knowing she was speaking when she wasn’t supposed to and not caring one little bit. Let him punish her as long as he filled her too.
“Ah, you spoke out of turn again,” he said, right before her ass stung. The way she was spread, the angle of his strike caused some of the blow to land on her pussy. She cried out at the wonderful sensations it conjured and wiggled against the bed, desperate for some kind, any kind of relief. Just when she thought she’d go insane from need, he rested the head of his shaft against her opening. Careful not to move or make any sound that would keep him from where she wanted him most, she waited. The penetration was slow, filling her inch by excruciating inch. For a brief moment, she thought about the butt plug and wondered if the tightness was a result of it. It didn’t matter, because right now all she wanted was for him to move, to give her the friction she needed.
He withdrew until she could barely feel him and she bit her lip to keep from whimpering at his loss. Slowly, he pushed back into her, filling her once again. The full feeling returned, causing her to cry out. This was torture, glorious, wonderful torture.
The quiet of the room helped to amplify his ragged breaths. The sound resonated in her ears, exciting her even more.
“You like this, don’t you, Sara Beth?”
“Yes, Master.” She wasn’t lying. She doubted he would have believed her even if she had, not with her body so thoroughly humming with need.
He pulled back only to penetrate her again, each time slowly picking up speed. The ache deep in her pussy grew, multiplying with each thrust. She needed to come in the worst way.
The sound of slapping flesh filled her ears, adding to the excitement in the air. Fisting the comforter, she screamed as an orgasm the size of Texas barreled over her. He rammed hard into her one last time and held there, his groan of completion charging the air.
Before the last shock wave subsided, he pulled out. The sudden emptiness left her feeling vacant and hollow. She tugged on the blindfold, lifted it off her eyes, and watched him walk to the bathroom. His ass cheeks rocked slightly with each step, sending a fresh wave of signals into her channel. After being so thoroughly sated, how could she want him again? What exactly was this place doing to her?
Sara straightened herself and waited for his next set of instructions. If he could make her feel this good already, she couldn’t wait to find out what he had in store for her next.
He stopped in front of her and tipped her chin up with his finger. “Did you like your first lesson?”
Her heart pounded in her chest. “Yes, Master.”
His look softened and he grinned. “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure starting so rough would be good or not, but the fact that you enjoyed it eases my conscience.”
She touched a hand to his cheek. “It’s hard for me to admit because it completely goes against my nature, but I did like it, Adam, and I’m ready for my next lesson.”
He pulled her hand from his cheek and kissed her palm. “You called me Adam instead of Master.”
Her eyes widened. “I…I forgot.”
His smile grew. “I’ll let it slide this time, especially if you do an extra good job on your next lesson.” He led her to an overstuffed leather chair and a small television in the opposite corner of the room. “This afternoon, I want you to study these DVDs. Pay close attention to the techniques applied by the women. You will be expected to implement those same methods in a real-life lesson later this evening.”
She started to reply, only to have him turn away and walk to the
door.
“Marissa will be in shortly with your lunch,” he said right before the
door closed.
Stunned by his quick shift in momentum and even quicker exit, she dropped into the chair, nearly squealing when the still warm and tingling skin on her ass contacted the cold leather. Feeling out of balance and out of control, she pulled her onto the couch and wrapped her arms around herself. Tears welled in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.
With her first session now behind her and desire no longer clouding her judgment, remorse slowly settled over her. How could she have allowed him to spank her? What must it have looked like to see her flesh jiggle with each smack? She imagined it was probably akin to a Jell-O mold. She shuddered at the thought, and then her stomach twisted as an even more disturbing thought took root. Despite the embarrassment of having him spank her, she realized not only had she enjoyed it, but she desperately wanted him to do it again.
In an attempt to get her mind off her new revelation, she turned to the stack of DVDs. Never in all her years had she watched porn. Oh, she’d been tempted a few times, but the idea of watching a bunch of sexy men worship and fuck the brains out of gorgeous, nearly anorexic girls only helped to validate her image issues. Now he wanted her to watch smut and learn from it?
She stood and began to pace. No way could she sit and watch that stuff. She glanced at the pile of DVDs a second time. Or could she? No! She shook her head and grabbed the robe. This had gone far enough. It was time to get her suitcase back and call things off. After wrapping the robe tightly around her, Sara opened the door and stepped out into the hall.
Which way was the exit? She looked in both directions, then turned to her left and began to walk. Curious sounds carried down the hallway from the opposite direction, causing Sara to stop midstep. It sounded like a television show or maybe a movie playing. She glanced over her shoulder down the other end of the hall. Before the emergency exit, the corridor seemed to open up; the light flickered against the walls from something just out of her sight.
Was he watching television after what they’d just done? She turned and slowly walked down the hall, careful not to make a sound. As she closed in on the open space, a television came into view, along with a large leather couch and two black leather chairs. A small coffee table sat in front of the sofa, creating a quaint sitting area.
Much to her surprise, she found a young woman curled up in the far chair, staring at the screen.
The woman jumped when Sara stepped into view.
“I’m sorry for frightening you.”
The blonde smiled, flipped her horse tail straight hair over her shoulder, and motioned to the sofa. “No, it’s fine. I’m Karen. Please have a seat.”
Sara pulled on the bottom of her robe as she eased down onto the couch. “I’m Sara. I didn’t realize there were others here for the weekend.”
Karen shifted in her seat. “This is my second time here. Patty did such a great job helping me the first time that I decided to come back here for my next level of training.”
Sara gulped. Nobody had told her there was more than one level. “Next level?”
“Yeah, I’ve always been a bit curious about more serious BDSM, not just the hand spanking and getting tied up with scarves, but darker stuff. I knew if I came here, I could experience it in a place where I’d feel safe.”
Sara knew she looked like an idiot as her mouth flew open like some fish out of water, but she couldn’t help herself. The thought of pain being a turn-on hadn’t crossed her mind. “You want to be in pain?”