Poor Little Rich Slut (7 page)

“By the way, nice shaving job,” he said, as his fingers glided on the smooth bare skin of my shaved pussy. “Angelica’s doing?”

“Yes, it was.” I felt rather strange admitting this.

“I knew she’d make a good accomplice.”

Yes, that was a choice word for the sexy maid.

“And you made love?” he asked.

“Just as you ordered.”

“
Humm
.”
My answer pleased him. “Tell me how it made you feel?”

As he asked his questions, he continued to massage my wounded bottom and occasionally pressed his fingers against the plug.

“Eleanor! Eleanor, are you in there!”
Whimsy Perkins’ voice.
I started to bolt upright only to have Garrison push me back down. “Answer her,” he whispered.

“I’ll be right there!” I called out. “I’m just taking a break.”

“Gordon wants to give his speech.”

“I’ll be right there.”

By the time I finished convincing Whimsy, I was on my feet with Garrison’s assistance. My dress was righted, my hair combed down and I moved out from behind the tropical plants back into the
greatroom
. Garrison followed moments later.

Although I know I looked terrific in Garrison’s dress, that every hair was in place and my smile was perfect for the event and the accolades being heaped on me, I couldn’t help but feel completely naked as 200 hundred pairs of eyes were focused my way. The stripes from the caning still throbbed, as if they were flashing lights, pulsing with heat, my lower body lit with neon. The plug in my ass was certainly noticeable; my mind pestered me with that thought. I dared not bend over, and I dared not look Garrison Tate in the eye. If I did, I’d certainly melt into a puddle of orgasmic goo. Without having to be at my side, he’d closed in around me. He’d taken over my mind. In the background of every thought, he was there. Every movement of my body provided a reminder of his presence. Was this what I wanted? I constantly wondered.

All I knew for certain was if his presence ceased now, if Garrison ceased to be at the center of my life, I’d lose myself. I’d be aimlessly wandering the sexual chaos of my life without a guide. That was far more frightening than moving forward with these stripes, and my sore behind, the uncomfortable plug and the promise of more, much more.

***

Exhausted, I slumped on a stone bench at the far side of the garden.

“Ouch!” I whispered under my breath, not having realized that sitting on the plug would be more uncomfortable than walking with it. I hadn’t sat all night, and now my feet were sore, my bottom was sore and every muscle in me ached. My pussy ached too, wanting,
needing
more than it was getting.

But the party was finally over, thank God. It had been a good one, and, as Daddy predicted, the perfect way to promote the magazine. The press would be generous, since this would have been seen as Eleanor Rule’s ‘coming out’ party. It was a little belated to be sure, but there’d be lots to report, and I suppose a few innuendos to bloom into full-fledged gossip. I can’t imagine anyone not seeing the way Garrison Tate snuggled in to me from time to time during the evening.

By then, I really didn’t care.

“Can’t keep that light of yours under a bushel forever,”
Daddy had said to me, before the entire throng, to which I’d generously smiled and lifted my champagne glass.

At least this first major obligation of my new job was over. Maybe it would be easier now to move forward. The same could be said of my sexual initiation.

“Well, I think your party was a big success.” Ah, Garrison!

I was so deep in
thought,
I hadn’t even seen him coming. But the sound of his voice brought me around and I looked up.
“Hi there.”

“You were quite the hit.”

“Was I?”

“It was exactly as it should be. That light under a bushel comment was perfect for you.”

“I’ve been hearing that for years,” I sighed wearily.

“Well then, let’s change the conversation,” he said, as he sat down beside me. “How’s your ass?”
“My ass is just fine?” I said, smirking.

“Tell me more.”

I turned to him. “Why do I think you already know the answer and are just doing this to hassle me?”

He
smiled,
that good old jocular grin. “I like having a woman beholden to me.
Under my thumb.
At my beck and call.
But if after tonight, you tell me you hate it, we’ll stop.”

“No, no!” I think I jumped in too readily. “No, we can’t stop.”

I suspect he knew I’d say that too.

“Glad to hear that. Now tell me more about your ass.”

I could feel the heat rising on my cheek as I thought of the wicked things going on in the regions down below.

“Well, if you want to know the truth, I’m so over the edge about everything right now… my mind, my body. But I’m so tired…”

“Hum, I think it’s time to get a few things handled,” Garrison interrupted just when I was getting to the part about how horny I really was.

“Like what?” I asked.

He reached behind me and tugged on the bow. Pulling it loose, the front of my dress fell into my lap.

“Get up… into the woods with you!”

Oh, my! And he was dead serious too!

A minute earlier, I might have thought I’d never make it into the woods, let alone go through with whatever Garrison had planned. But that had been before he sat down next to me, before he laid his hand on my thigh, and I felt his breath on my neck and his body alive and pulsing, just inches from my own.

Suddenly, as if something other than my sane mind was in charge of me, I jumped up, shed the dress and completely naked, skipped quickly across the grass and into the trees. Garrison followed. The game was a little like hide and seek, as I hid behind bushes and trees and peeked out at my stalker.

I finally let him catch me and he pushed me against a large oak tree. He pinned my arms above my head with one hand and pressed his other hand to my crotch. The kisses came on me hard and fast. His tongue probed deep. I opened my mouth to allow him in and felt the sensation of lust through every nerve. I wriggled my ass against the rough tree bark. A bit of the discomfort from the caning returned, but I liked the way that felt.

Garrison’s fingers probed my vaginal opening, teasingly at first, then a little more forcefully.

This was what I’d been waiting for…

I parted my thighs; everything in me throbbed now. I wanted my hands all over the man but that was not the game we played. He had my cunt dripping, my ass wriggling nastily, my mouth furiously kissing his mouth. With one hand he unzipped his pants, and my heart started to beat a little faster. He unsheathed his cock, although I didn’t dare look down at it. It was enough to feel the thick, urgent organ pulsing against my thigh, moving on my pubic mound then pushing its way between my legs.

Garrison’s hand guided its path to the door of my vagina, where, for a moment, it teased at the perimeter of the wet opening. I could smell the pungent scent of pheromones kicking in. I tasted his essence with my mouth. Then suddenly, as he lunged forward into me, I felt my entire body open wide to his.

The lovely pain rifled through me, stopping, for a while, the
crescendoing
arousal. He was so tight against the walls of my channel that he could barely move inside me. Every thrust seemed dry and painful.

“Relax,” he whispered in my ear. “Relax, love.” My body slightly eased as I listened to the tender message.

He began to move faster, deliberately thrusting with some force. I screamed a little at the start, but found the pain not at all unpleasant. It was something I could adjust to, something big and vigorous and overpowering. I felt so small and insignificant, no more than a humble vessel.

“Open for me, Eleanor. Open wide,” he purred.

Just the suggestion was like magic. As he drove inside me deeper, my body seemed to expand to receive him.

“Oh, my!”
My arms remained overhead even when Garrison let go of them. My head thrashed back and forth when the kisses ended. He was all about fucking me now, taking his virgin to the limits. I had no way of knowing how different this might be because of the plug still lodged inside my ass. I understood only that he opened me wide and filled me so full that there was no room for anything in me but him.

When he came, it was with hard, thrusting stabs and guttural groans of climax. Meanwhile I whimpered softly, afraid that I’d hate it when he finally withdrew. I loved this more than I could have ever imagined.

After his withering organ slipped from my vagina, he pushed me to the soft ground at his feet.

“Lick it clean,” he said.

This was my first taste of cock…although I had to wonder if I
was tasting
Garrison or myself. I suppose a little of both.

I felt as limp as a sleeping kitten by the time Garrison pulled me to my feet. Again, he pushed me against the oak tree for support. I didn’t understand what he was doing when he pressed his handkerchief against my crotch. But when it came up with a bloody smear across the crisp white, I understood.

I stared at the evidence of my rent vagina, startled.

“About time, don’t you suppose?”

“Yes, I suppose so.” I could barely speak.

While I tried to comprehend what had just happened, Garrison unsnapped the waist belt that held the plug in place and gave the thing a little tug. It slipped into the bloody handkerchief, relieving me of the pressure, but not the stimulation.

I gasped, feeling almost delirious again, “Oh, dear…”

“I think it’s time you went to bed, Heiress,” Garrison decided, a self-satisfied grin on his face.

“You really think so?” I leaned in to him, really wishing that he’d stay with me.

But he gave my face a playful slap. “Wake up.”

“Oh, if only…” I whined—so much I wanted to say, but I didn’t get the chance.

“You know…” He gazed through the trees to lawn and garden, thinking, “If you wanted to be really daring, you’d grab your dress and dodge the lights.”

I looked toward the house some two hundred yards away. The lights still glittered from the inside, but only the normal security lights were on in the yard. The shadows were long and deep—I’d played hide-and-seek inside those shadows when I was a kid.

“I bet I can make it,” I declared, suddenly feeling quite brave and giddy.

“Then get going,” he ordered with a gentle shove.

I dashed to the stone bench, snatched my dress and made my way, practically dancing, to the crest of the hill. I looked back once, seeing Garrison eyeing me. Slipping inside through one of the
greatroom’s
French doors, I hid behind the drapes until I was sure the coast was clear. The cooks and caterers had already left the kitchen; the downstairs was silent as a tomb. I had only to shoot up the back stairs and into the safety of my room. Once there, I dropped into bed, still naked, and for a long while gazed into the dark ceiling, remembering the night, thinking of Garrison and letting the sensations of utter physical joy drift through me until I finally fell asleep.

I hadn’t realized that Daddy invited Garrison to spend the weekend until I came down to breakfast the morning after my party.

He was there at the table in the morning room, drinking coffee and talking politics with my father. I stopped at the door, surprised by the very domestic looking scene. He looked as if he belonged there, or at least had been there many times before at such an hour. Perhaps he had.

“Come on in, Eleanor,” my father said.

“Morning, Daddy.” I gave him a peck on the cheek. “Good morning, Garrison.”

I slipped into the seat beside my father, avoiding any closeness to the man who made a woman of me just hours before. I felt a little guilty, even embarrassed, although I certainly didn’t want to communicate that fact to my father.

“I didn’t know you were planning to stay,” I added.

“I invited him, darling. We have a few things to discuss and since I decided not to return to town until Monday, I thought it would be just as well if we had our discussions here.”

“Discussions?
What kind of discussions?” I asked suspiciously.

“Oh, you
know,
the marketing plans for the magazine.”

I suddenly felt defensive.

“And were you planning to include me?”

I could see by the look on my father’s face, that he had no such plans. But he recovered quickly by jumping right back in and denying what I knew was true.
“Of course.
You should be there,” he said with an all too patronizing smile.

“Yes, I should. I’m beginning to wonder if I have your respect or if I’m just window-dressing.”

Garrison flashed me disapproving glance that I ignored.

“Ellie!
After all the nice things I said about you last night,” my father retorted.

“That was last night. Today you’re planning a marketing meeting with my second in command that I know nothing about. What’s going on here?”

“You’re being way too sensitive, sweetheart.”

“No, I am not. This is
my
company, or so I thought! Either you treat me as the CEO of
Country Manor
, or you remove me from the post and I’ll go elsewhere.”

All three of us sat there stunned. Although I was not surprised; the explosion had been building since I began the job ten days before, bolstered by off-hand remarks, gossip I overhead at the water cooler and conversations between Daddy and Garrison that I knew took place. There were memos in my email written to my staff as if I’d known about
their
decisions and approved of them. Now this! I had to conclude that
Country Manor
was being run behind my back and Daddy had no plans for giving me complete control.

“That remark is just plain juvenile,” Garrison finally voiced his bristling disapproval.

“I’ll thank you not to comment on this.” I turned to him smoldering. “The conversation is between Daddy and me.”

Garrison’s eyes were shooting darts, which it seems, had the effect of not only making me angrier, but startling my sexual body—exactly the last thing I needed at that moment.

But by then, even I didn’t want to pursue the conversation; I was afraid of where it would lead with both men.

“Excuse me,” I said, now trying to sound conciliatory. “Maybe I’m just tired. It was a long night.” I pushed from my chair and rose to my feet, exiting the morning room as quickly as I could without looking totally foolish.

I sulked in my room for the next hour until I heard a knock on the door.

“Who is it?”

The door opened without me giving my consent, and Garrison stepped inside.

I turned my back on him like a petulant adolescent, realizing how miffed I still was.

I waited a few moments for him to speak. “Well, that was quite a display,” he said at last.

“And was I wrong?” I turned to him.

“What?
Wrong that we’re running
Country Manor
behind your back?
Yes, you were wrong.
Dead wrong.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s your problem, then. Remember, your father is an
Old World
man. Your taking the reins of a prize possession may be the right thing to do, it may be fashionable to give a woman that kind of power, but it’s not something your old man is used to. There’s no need for you to be part of our discussions today—most of it’s going to be about the Japanese office anyway, not
Country Manor
.”

“Is that so?” I said, coolly.

“Yes. And right now, you’re going to apologize to your father and excuse yourself from the meeting. You’re going to be otherwise occupied.”

“Occupied?” Just that one word and I could feel my haughty resolve starting to crumble.

“Yes. I suddenly find myself nursing a passionate desire to punish you.”

Every alarm bell in my body went off hearing that operative word. “Punished, why?”

His eyes bore into me with a ruthless energy I’d not felt from him before. I admit, I was scared, though feeling a mounting arousal brewing beneath my fears. Apparently this sort of condescending treatment was something that turned me on.

“Punished? I could say it’s because of that crazy outburst at breakfast,” he started, “and I suppose in part it is.
But the truth, God’s honest truth?
I’m finding myself really, really turned on wielding my authority over you.”

Oh, yes, I was scared. And likely just as turned on as he was, enjoying the feeling of dread, while relishing the depravity I saw in his eyes as I wondered what terrible things he’d do to me next. This was not the same light-hearted hero who ripped away my virginity the night before. But I think I liked this man as much as I did the kinder one.

“So call your father,” he demanded.

It took a moment for me absorb what he meant…
yes, of course, call Daddy to apologize and excuse myself from the meeting—as if I’m some fainting, insignificant female.

I finally reached for the house phone and dialed my father’s number, all the while staring at Garrison. I was afraid to take my eyes from him.

“Daddy…” I started to speak once my father answered. I rattled off a reasonable explanation for my behavior at breakfast, looking at Garrison for approval. “And I think I’ll skip your meeting with Garrison. I’m sure he’ll keep me posted if there is anything I need to know.” The man sounded relieved that I bowed out so gracefully—if he only knew why.

The phone receiver clattered noisily back in its cradle, while the diminished, submissive me seemed to be basking in the put down. Garrison’s brutally patronizing expression had quickened every sexual nerve in me and suddenly I had no will of my own.

“Now, call down to Angelica. I’d like her here.”

“Why Angelica?”
I questioned without thinking.

His nostrils flared.

“I’m sorry,” I said, that was the wrong thing to ask. I reached for the phone again, this time dialing the housemaid.

She would meet us in the attic at Garrison’s request.

***

Fifteen minutes later the three of us met in the attic to play out the punishment scene. I hadn’t stopped trembling, nor had my arousal done anything but soar as the thoughts of retribution and reprisal took hold of me.

“So, do I punish you for last night or this morning’s unfortunate outburst?” Garrison said, facing me squarely like a father dressing down a child.

I knew better than to answer the question.

“How about just on general principles?” he suggested.

That sounded good to me. I shivered so bad that I’m sure both Garrison and the watching Angelica could see that I’d broken into a cold sweat. My hands were clammy and my body seemed to ooze with the stench of the previous night’s sex. I wondered if the two could smell those sour pheromones as easily as I could.

“Undo your robe,” he ordered.

I hardly shrugged and the silky thing seemed to slip right off my body, leaving me stark naked in front of my housemaid and employee.

Angelica smirked in a saucy, lurid way that made me feel even more demeaned.

“Better hold on because this one’s going to hurt,” he pointed to the dusty table, where the cane still lay.

As if the caning hadn’t hurt?

But he didn’t use the cane this time. He pulled a wooden paddle from a satchel he’d brought with him. As I was bending over the table, I saw the large round business end and closed my eyes in fright.
Would it hurt worse than the cane?
I had no clue since I was new to this sort of thing and the feelings that accompanied it. I hardly had time to catch my breath before the first smack hit.

Whack!

The sudden blow nailed me to the table with an emphatic pop against my ass.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

Dear God, it hurt!

Whack! Whack! In less than thirty seconds, my ass burned so hot that I could hardly contain the desire to scream. I wriggled angrily against the edge of the table, only to find that edge rubbing directly on my clit.

Whack!

“Yikes!” I voiced far too loudly.

“Oh, I guess you want your Daddy to join us, huh? Scream again, and I might as well call him up here.”

That shut me up. I figured the threat was empty but I wasn’t going to risk finding out for sure.

“Whack!
Whack! Whack!

I moaned this time, finding some comfort in my warm tears.

The paddling went on with a vengeance reserved for the most recalcitrant of delinquents. I watched my feelings as if they weren’t even part of me, seeing a righteous rebellion make me want to fight, and a sense of shame, and desire and longing … I could make no sense of my emotions; they were all too much to sort out while the smacks kept blistering my poor behind.

When Garrison finally stopped, the room fell quiet, except for Angelica moving about behind me. Garrison’s hand went directly to my sore ass and began to roughly fondle the flesh. He probed between my ass cheeks, then something cold trickled down the cleft and I felt him massaging the opening with two invading fingers.

“Show her!” he ordered the maid.

I had no idea what that could mean. But as Angelica moved around in front of me so I could see her, my body shuddered at the shocking sight. She wore a black leather bustier that pushed her large breasts into a stunning cleavage. But even more lurid was the harness resting at her crotch, fitted with a curving purple dildo that bobbed threateningly before my eyes.

“Yes!” Garrison grabbed my hair, jerked my head up and forced me to look at the object of my next violation. “What do you suppose it’s going to feel like in your ass, huh?”
I shook my head, having no idea. The thing looked gigantic, although my eyes may well have been deceiving me. But it was the expression on her face that I think worried me most…lewd, almost taunting, her nostrils flaring,
her
lips moist. After giving me a good look, she sauntered around the table and out of sight.

While Garrison continued to hold my hair by the hand, Angelica came up from behind me and began using her fingers to ready my ass.

“Such a pretty, pretty hole,” the maid purred as she worked her fingers deep into my anal hole. I could feel her nails dig into my flesh and my body seized up again. Fear pulsed through me; I thought I’d die, and yet, I didn’t want her to stop.

When she withdrew her hand, I cringed, biting my lips as I felt the cool, slick head of her fake prick press against my anus.

“She’s just going to get you ready for me,” I heard Garrison say when she made her first emphatic thrust.

“
Ughhhhh
,” I lunged forward and Garrison pulled me up and back by the hair.

Angelica slowly worked the penis into my rectum, going deeper and deeper with each succeeding thrust. I thought of the evening before, how the plug prepared me for what was happening now. Had Garrison been planning this moment then?

My body didn’t want to give at first. Fat tears streamed down my face as the pain brightened deep inside me.

“Oh, please,” I quietly groaned.

“You can do it,” the maid assured me as she pushed a little deeper.

“
Oooooo
nooo
!”

“Yes, you can,” the female oozed with determination.

I tried very hard to relax, but it wasn’t easy. Every thrust brought another startling pain. The sensation in my bottom went far beyond anything I felt from the slim anal plug.

“
Ooo
, yeah, that’s it. Easy baby,” she purred to me in a sexy baby talk.

But there was nothing babyish about her fucking my ass with a strap-on. Her long, polished nails dug into my ass. She thrust harder and meaner, opening me despite the pain. I saw strange, wild colors fly before my eyes—visual pain exploded through my body in the strangest sensation imaginable.
Terrible, wonderful, all at the same time.
I wanted it harder, even when I wanted the terror to stop.