Bad Girls (14 page)

‘Nick's a pretty special man,' she says, perhaps wistfully. I don't know what to say. ‘Why don't you turn over now,' she says, as if there's some continuity between Nick being a special man and me turning over.

‘Don't worry,' she says. I worry.

‘He told me,' she continues, and lifts the sheet a little so I can turn over underneath it. I'm speechless. Wasn't he afraid of what she'd think? I know I am.

‘Nick seems so happy,' Sharon says. ‘He really likes you.'

She starts at my shoulders and neck. My face is cradled in the U-shaped padding. I can look down and see Sharon's feet in sandals. Her toes are painted and her calves are lean. She has a ring of barbed wire tattooed around her leg right above her ankle. It makes me think that maybe she's different from what I thought.

‘I think it's wonderful that you have someone who can care for you the way Nick does.'

I'm surprised she says this. Something deep inside me feels like she likes me. I worry less. My shoulders melt in her hands. I hope for silence, but she seems to want to talk.

‘Sometimes I feel like I need someone like him.'

Her hands run down the length of my back, stopping at the dimples at the base of my spine. It feels wonderful. She has the sheet folded down to my hips. Every masseuse I've ever had has lifted the sheet from the sides to rub down my ass. They've done one cheek at a time, never baring my crack, let alone touching it. It's kind of the thong theory of modesty: the buttock itself isn't really a naughty bit, only the crack is. Cover the crack and nothing is really exposed.

Sharon folds the sheet down completely, so it stops at my thighs. My black and blue ass is fully exposed. Even the view downward into the valley between my slightly spread legs is uncovered.

‘Ooooh,' she says with genuine surprise. ‘That must have hurt.'

I feel like I should say something. But I can't really think of anything. ‘Yeah,' I say lamely.

‘What did he use?'

I blush when I think we might have a whole conversation about this. I wonder if she can really tell what he used. I can tell; the bruising is very different from the kind his belt or hand leaves. Maybe she's just asking me to have me say it. I feel shy, but I also feel very obedient.

‘The paddle.'

‘I thought it was either that or a hairbrush.'

I hadn't even thought about a hairbrush.

‘I'm going to massage it lightly. You tell me if it's too much, okay?'

‘Okay,' I say meekly.

The gentle pressure pushes intensely into the tender flesh. It feels wonderful.

‘Was it the hardest one you've ever gotten?'

Is she allowed to ask these questions? Talking about it excites her, I can tell. Her excitement is overcoming her shyness. Could she be jealous of me? I become a little more confident.

‘Yeah.'

‘Has he ever used his belt on you?'

‘Yeah.'

I can feel her disappointment at my one-word answers, but my coy hesitation has the effect of drawing her out.

‘The paddle hurts worse than the belt?' She's curious and wants details.

‘It's different. It covers so much of your ass. There's no chance to recover. It's scarier.'

‘What's the belt like?'

‘It feels more whippy. Like a thin line is cutting into you. The paddle feels like it's setting your whole ass on fire.'

‘Have you ever been caned?'

‘No,' I answer nervously.

‘It's the worst.'

Oh my. My curiosity gets the best of me. ‘Why?'

‘There's an instant pain that's kind of like a belt. It sears a tiny stripe into your flesh. But then it's not over. There's a second wave of pain that just gets worse for what feels like forever afterwards, burning outward while you just know he's preparing to give you your next stroke. When you look at the bruises you can see how they radiate out from the welts where the cane landed and you remember how much it hurts all around each stroke.'

I wonder if Nick will ever cane me.

‘How were you when he paddled you?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Did he bend you over or have you lean against the wall or what?'

‘I was lying on the couch.'

‘Your ass is soft in the position. The paddle can sink deeper in.'

She's thought about these things as much as I have!

‘He makes me bend over for the belt.'

‘It doesn't sink in much. It just stings your skin.'

She sounds almost disappointed. Her hands are rubbing my ass and sometimes I think they're getting farther and farther between my legs, but it might just be my imagination. I secretly cheer her hands on. If she feels between my legs she'll know how wet talking about it makes me.

Her hands and fingers, now magically turning the ache of a heavily spanked ass into the warm feeling of deep arousal, have already been crisscrossing my crack, kneading the flesh as much like a lover as a masseuse. Suddenly her fingers dive deep, following my crack all the way down over my asshole and onto my labia, opening them and releasing the flood from inside.

‘Talking about it gets you as wet as it gets me.' She laughs delightfully and doesn't make me feel dirty or ashamed at all. Still, I'm not sure and feel like I should make an extra effort to behave myself.

‘Should you be…?' I ask hesitantly.

‘It's okay. Nick and I talked about it. He said I could.' Her hands dive down again and again, sometimes going a little inside and sometimes squeezing underneath me to rub my clit. I moan in pleasure and feel an amazing emotional relief at having my secret greeted with such warmth and affection.

Usually I prefer a vibrator or a tongue to fingers, but Sharon's fingers are magic, so well oiled and trained to the pressure and speed of every stroke. Sharon pulls the sheet off me completely and I turn over so she can touch me where it feels best. Two fingers of her left hand are inside me, curling upward. Meanwhile, the fingers of her other hand circle my clit. She does it more slowly than I do it myself, driving me wild with anticipation and making me grind my hips up to push against her fingers and strain under my wild desire to come.

I try to will the orgasm to overcome my shyness by thinking about being over Nick's lap, his hand coming down on my ass at the same time as his fingers are doing what's being done to me now. I imagine what Nick sees: the skin of my ass turning apple red, my flesh jiggling with every spank, my crack widening and narrowing as I flex my ass with the sting, or as my legs part from all my wiggling. I come when I remember Nick threatening me with the belt if I didn't stay still.

Sharon gently rubs my thighs and hips. I imagine how turned on she must be and I feel bad for her. I wonder if I should offer to return the favor.

‘That was wonderful,' I say.

‘Thanks.'

‘Sharon?'

‘Yeah?'

‘Is there anything I can do for you?' I ask shyly, not sure if I'm doing the right thing or not.

‘Well, there's something Nick told me I could ask you.'

‘What?' I'm very curious; almost hopeful for something I feel I shouldn't hope for.

‘Well,' she hesitates, ‘he said I could ask if you'd let him punish me.'

‘What?' I don't mean to sound rude, but Sharon hears it that way. It's just that I'm so surprised to hear what I hoped I'd hear.

‘You don't have to or anything,' she says apologetically. ‘It's just that I did something I shouldn't have.'

‘What?' I ask, knowing I'll say yes but feeling my power and liking it. ‘What did you do?'

‘I went to bed with a married man last week and I know I shouldn't have. He was here from out of town and he flirted with me and I knew I shouldn't but I did. I think I want Nick to do what he did to you.'

She can't even say it. She's like me. Fifteen years older, beautiful, together, sweet, and yet she craves what I crave. I didn't know women like her could. It makes me love her. I'm so happy that I don't even notice the awkward silence until she hurries to fill it.

‘Don't worry; he doesn't love me or anything. I just want someone who can understand how bad I've been and knows how I feel.'

I wonder a bit how it will make me feel. Will he use the same words with her that he uses with me? But then I think about what it would be like to watch and I can't resist.

‘Can I watch?'

‘Yeah,' she says, looking at the floor.

I'm still sitting naked on the massage table when Sharon leaves to retrieve Nick. I don't know why I don't get dressed, but it just doesn't occur to me. I'm too occupied with my own thoughts. I'm more turned on now than I was when Sharon was touching me. I can feel my own wetness soaking the sheet on the massage table. I await their return. The anticipation is killing me like it does when Nick makes me wait for my own punishment, only this time with pleasant nerves and none of the fear I usually feel. I wonder about everything: What will he spank her with? Will he spank her on the bare bottom? What will she look like naked? What position will she be in? Will she plead or cry? She seems so perfect – pristine and poised. It's hard to imagine cracking through that layer to see her face twisted in pain and to see her glowing skin burning red. But I suppose she's as human as me; I suppose life doesn't get easier, even when you grow up. There are plenty of times I've hated myself for sleeping with guys, but before Nick I never even knew you could deal with the self-loathing this way. I feel bad that Sharon feels this bad. I'm not sure what Nick will use, but I'm sure he'll make it hurt. I imagine that Sharon is feeling that stomach-turning combination of fear, nerves and shame as she negotiates the terms of her punishment with Nick.

I'm close to coming, I can't help it, but I move my fingers away from my clit when I hear them coming. Sharon appears first, followed by Nick. I'm worried it will seem too theatric with three of us. Maybe it'll seem like a farce outside of the context of Nick and me. I wonder what it will be like to be the audience.

‘Do you know why Sharon needs to be spanked?' Nick asks me.

‘She told me,' I answer.

‘Did you?' Nick asks Sharon.

‘I told her a little bit.'

‘Tell her the rest.'

‘I don't want to sleep with married men. I want to fall in love, but I always end up fucking men I can't have. Afterwards I feel bad and don't believe anyone could ever love me. Then I go out and get laid to make myself feel better. It's a vicious cycle. I just don't want to do it anymore. I've dreamed of being spanked for years. Nick told me about you. I was like you once. I guess I'm still like you. I asked Nick if he could do it to me, and he told me he would if it was okay with you.'

I'm speechless. She is like me. I can see it now. I see it in the way she fidgets and can't look at me or Nick and the way she really doesn't like herself. I'm not so alone.

‘Sharon and I have agreed on her punishment. Could you tell Laura, Sharon?'

‘I'm going to get caned.' Her voice catches in her throat, from nerves or from being on the verge of tears, I can't tell.

‘Tell her how.'

‘On my bare bottom. Bent over the massage table.'

‘Tell her how many.'

‘Twelve.'

I can see she wants to plead now. She wants to ask him if maybe she could get a little less. I remember what she said about the cane. She wants to promise that she'll do better, if only he'd give her fewer. She really doesn't need twelve, does she? But she's restrained because I'm there. She's embarrassed to look scared in front of me even though that's how she feels. She wishes she could get out of it. She's hoping maybe he'll be gentler since I'm there. She's afraid she won't be able to stand it. The skin of her ass is tingling, awaiting the caning without being able to conceive of the searing pain that's coming.

‘Get the cane,' Nick commands softly.

She walks over to a cabinet in the corner of the room and opens a drawer. She pulls out a cane. I'm surprised she has it. I wonder where she got it. She offers it to Nick, and he takes it and bends its whippy shaft. It's incredibly flexible. He only has to gesture to her and she comes over to the massage table.

When she bends over her soft hair falls on my naked thighs and between my legs. She rests her head on my lap. Her ass protrudes for Nick to cane. She reaches back and hooks her thumbs inside the elastic waistband of her panties. She lowers them to her thighs and then grabs my hand in hers. Her hair is beautifully draped across me and her soft cheek feels warm and flush against my leg. Her eyelids tickle my skin when she closes her eyes and awaits the first stroke.

I can see her ass in the mirror on the wall opposite. It's gorgeous – curvy and full, with porcelain-white skin inside the faint tan lines left by what must be a rather small bikini bottom. It's dark between her legs and I strain my eyes to see if I can make out anything. Nick comes up to me and kisses me softly on the lips. He looks me in the eyes and mouths that he loves me. I can tell he wants to make sure I'm all right with this. I couldn't have predicted how it would feel, but I'm so drawn into the moment that there's no way I could object. It's compelling and I'm incredibly wet, but I don't feel jealous or rejected. In fact, I feel closer to Nick than ever. As for Sharon, I'm pretty sure that I'm as hot for her as Nick is, and since she made me come fifteen minutes ago and has her head in my lap, I'd say Nick has more reason to be jealous than I do.