Want It Bad (15 page)

Legs still trembling from her ordeal on the bondage table, Carla finished the last cube of melon Jake had prepared earlier. She was wearing a black silk kimono that he’d provided for her, and she was intimately aware of how it clung to her bare skin.

“No stylist can match that,” Jake said.

“Match what?”

“Orgasms do something to a woman’s hair that’s unbelievably sexy.”

Carla laughed.

“I’m serious,” Jake said.

He held up a butter knife, and Carla checked out her reflection. She looked like she’d barely survived a tornado. Without thinking she began to finger comb her locks.

Jake caught her wrist. “Leave it. Please. It’s hot.”

She smiled and shook her head. “You’re insane.”

“Any actress on the red carpet would pay a hairdresser a thousand dollars to get a look like that.”

“What? Messy? What we used to call the get-out-of-bed-get-back-into-bed look?”

“Exactly,” Jake smiled. “It’s self-assured. Confident. Powerful.”

“In my profession I look powerful by not having a hair out of place.”

Jake popped a slice of apple into his mouth, began to chew. “My father wore bow ties to work. Not on a tuxedo, just as part of his business suit. I thought it was stupid, and that he looked like a nerd. None of my friends’ fathers wore bow ties. So one day I asked him why he wore that, when it looked so ridiculous.”

“And?”

“He told me that if a person has enough confidence to look ridiculous, then the person has enough confidence.”

Jake released Carla’s hand, and she stopped messing with her hair.

“Do your parents live in the area?” Carla was genuinely curious, rather than making polite conversation. She wanted to know more about Jake.

“My mother left us when I was seven. She said she was going to find herself. I remember asking her how she could be lost, when she was standing right in front of me. That was the last time I saw her. She moved to Canada and was in an accident.”

“That’s terrible.”

He shrugged a shoulder.

“And your father?”

“Heart attack last year. He was fifty.”

“Oh my gosh, Jake. I’m so sorry.”

“It happens.”

“He was so young, though. Did he ever remarry?” she asked, hoping that at least his last years had been happy.

“No.” He turned from Carla, staring out the window. “Guess the ladies didn’t like his bow tie.”

It was a provocative thing to say. Up until that moment, Carla had the impression that Jake really liked women. As people. As equals. As a gender. Now she was left to wonder if he had unresolved mommy issues, and deep down resented the opposite sex.

That wasn’t the type of guy you wanted paddling your bottom.

“Uh… I’m not so sure I want to go through with this spanking.”

Jake glanced back at Carla, as if just remembering she was there, and smiled, his dark mood obviously buoying. “You’re the one who begged for it.”

“I said it under duress. It was coerced and wouldn’t hold up in court.”

“You thought you’d hate the bondage table and Hitachi, right?”

Carla lowered her eyes. “Yes.”

“But you wound up enjoying yourself.”

She felt herself blush, but whispered a soft, “Yes.”

“Say it. Say what you enjoyed.”

Saying it aloud was embarrassing. But, strangely, she was starting to grow used to humiliation. In fact, the touch of shame somehow made it more arousing. There had to be something wrong with that. “I enjoyed it when you strapped me to the bondage table.”

“And?”

“And made me come.”

“How many times did you come?”

Carla’s blush crept to her ears, making them burn. “I’m not sure. A lot.”

“You haven’t been keeping count?”

“I… I can’t tell if some of them are a single, long orgasm, or two of them close together.”

“Have you ever had a multiple orgasm before?”

“No.”

“I prefer full answers to yes and no. Remember? Communication.”

“No, I’ve never had a multiple orgasm before.” She shifted a little in her chair.

Jake glanced down at her lap, then back up to her eyes. “Does talking about this make you wet?”

“I…”
Why was he interrogating me like this? And why is it such a turn-on?

“Check and see,” Jake said. “Are you wet right now?”

Carla slid a hand between her legs, letting the robe part to reveal her to Jake. She could tell she was aroused, but slipping a finger between her folds, even she was surprised by how soaked she was.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

A little shiver of boldness shook her. “Yes, my pussy is very wet.”

My god, I’m acting like a total slut. If Janet could only see me now…

Jake lowered one lid in a wink. “Are you ready to get started?”

Carla wasn’t sure. Before today, she’d never experienced more than one orgasm in twenty-four hours. She doubted she had any more left in her.

Then Jake’s hands were on her shoulders, rubbing, kneading out the worry, and she felt herself melt into a puddle.

I do want more.

I want A LOT more. 

But spanking?

The whole idea seemed strange, but so had the immobilization table and the Hitachi.

I bought the weekend, I might as well use it.

“Yes, I guess we should get started.”

“You guess?”

“I want to get started.”

Jake stood Carla up and kissed her, his hands getting inside the kimono and cupping her ass, his warm tongue dancing in her mouth as his erection pressed against her. Too quickly he broke the kiss and led her, by the hand, back into the dungeon of pleasure.

When he opened up the top of the pillory, Carla hesitated. This was much scarier than she’d originally thought. Something out of medieval times. Though the neck and wrist holes were padded, it looked very uncomfortable, and Carla had serious reservations about being immobilized in such a fashion.

“Are you frightened?” Jake asked.

“A little.”

Jake was suddenly behind her, one hand on her breast, the other between her legs. He pushed a finger inside, causing Carla to gasp.

“You really
are
wet,” he said. “I believe that being scared turns you on.”

He wiggled his finger and began to roughly pull on her left nipple. Carla found herself on the brink of orgasm, and she began to pant.

“Do you want me to spank you?”

“Yes. I want you to spank me.”

He removed his finger and began to rub her swollen bud.

“Ask nicely.”

Carla’s voice was soft, her knees weak. “Please would you—”

“Louder!”

Jake’s yelling startled her. Carla never let anyone, man or woman, order her around. She wondered if this playacting was going too far.

Then she wondered if this was playacting at all.

She opened her mouth to protest, and then Jake spun her around and was kissing her again. He went from bossy and strict to sensitive and caring in an eye blink. It was messing with Carla’s mind. But her body seemed to know what it wanted, and it betrayed her by kissing Jake hard and grinding against him. Her hands circled his trim waist in an effort to pull him closer.

Carla wanted him so badly she felt ready to burst.

“Now ask me… nicely… to spank you,” he said between kisses.

“Please spank me, Jake.” His mouth was like a drug. She couldn’t get enough of kissing him.

“Do you want me to use the paddle?” He licked her chin. “Or a whip?”

Carla had noticed a leather cat o’ nine tails on the equipment rack, something she’d only seen in historical textbooks and movies. A multi-lashed whip, it looked like a feather duster; a short black handle with a bunch of leather tassels hanging from it. Carla had never been paddled or whipped, but paddling seemed like it would be less painful.

“Please spank me with the paddle,” she said.

Carla was just about to orgasm when Jake pushed her roughly away.

Taking her wrist, he led her to the pillory. “Take off your robe and bend over.”

Fighting a rising sense of panic, Carla complied, placing her neck and wrists in the stocks, her bare breasts hanging heavy, her bottom exposed and vulnerable.

Jake lowered the top part, like a guillotine without the blade, and locked her head and hands in the device. Then he walked behind her.

Carla tried to move her head, but she couldn’t do anything more than wiggle, couldn’t see anything more than the pillory itself. She’d realized what the device was when she’d let him lock her into it, and yet now that she was here, not knowing where Jake was bothered her.

Hell, it freaked her out.

She’d just opened her mouth, ready to yell
injunction
when she felt his hands on her hips. Then she sensed his hot breath fanning the crack of her butt.

Carla spread her legs and arched her back as much as she could, giving him full access. When his tongue claimed her clitoris with a long, fat lick, she started to shake.

He continued to lick her. Not just her pussy, but between her cheeks, licking her ass. The sensation was so shocking, so dirty, so—

Great. This feels great. Janet was right about that salad tossing thing.

Carla spread out her legs even wider, moaning, feeling an orgasm welling up.

Then Jake stopped and cuffed something around her right ankle. Carla found she couldn’t lift up her foot. He did the same to the left.

Her ankles were chained to the floor, her legs wide apart.

Then he was gone.

Carla waited. This whole situation seemed unreal to her, like she was trapped in someone else’s dream. She was naked, bent over and locked in a pillory, waiting to be spanked by a male prostitute almost fifteen years younger.

What’s wrong with me? Why am I so turned on?

Have I been without male attention for so long that I’m okay with being abused like this?

But Carla knew it wasn’t abuse. This was consensual. A game. She wanted it.

He just licked my ass and I want more.

Moisture—Jake’s saliva and Carla’s own juices—dripped down her inner thighs. If her hands hadn’t been locked in the pillory, she would have masturbated right then. Her whole body hummed with excitement, and the heat between her legs was unbearable.

What’s taking him so long?

Where is he?

Did he leave me here?

That last thought terrified Carla. She’d much rather be spanked than left alone, trapped this way. Jake knew about how paralyzed with fear she’d been when she fell overboard as a child, how freaked out she’d gotten last night. He wouldn’t use that knowledge to hurt her.

Would he?

Carla was about to shout his name when he stepped in front of her. Her eye-level was directly at his crotch, his denim-covered cock only inches away. It was sizeable, curving to the left, threatening to burst through his jeans. Carla wanted it in her mouth so badly it was almost primal.

Then Jake caressed her cheek. But it wasn’t with his fingers, it was with something softer.

The leather tails of the whip.

“Kiss it,” Jake said.

“I… I thought I said I wanted the paddle.”

“You did. But I want to whip you instead. Kiss it.”

This was spiraling out of control. The whole scene was messing with her mind. Carla wasn’t sure what she wanted. It was frustrating. Confusing.

Why can’t Jake just fuck her? Why all the bondage and whips and vibrators?

But Carla had fucked men before. None had ever come close to turning her on like this.

Is it Jake? Or was it how he was treating me?

Is it both?

Then he was on his knees in front of her, kissing Carla again, and any doubts she had dissipated; sunlight dismissing fog.

“Kiss the whip,” Jake whispered.

Carla did. She did more than kiss it. She licked it, and when Jake presented the handle to her, she took it in her mouth and sucked the end like it was his cock.

“Good,” he said. “Now we’re going to count to ten. Every time this touches your beautiful body, you count out loud. Do you understand?”

“I count out loud,” she said.

Did he just say I had a beautiful body?

His hand was then on her buttocks. Rubbing. Kneading.

“Your ass is perfect, Carla. It’s so sexy.”

He rubbed between her legs, making her moan, and then all touch stopped.

Carla waited.

He’s going to whip me.

Oh god, he’s going to whip me.

How badly will it hurt?

Why am I so excited? What’s wrong with me?

CRACK!

The cat o’ nine tails hit her left butt cheek, and Carla yelped in surprise.

It hurt. Maybe a little more than getting snapped with a rubber band. But it wasn’t the pain she was expecting.

In some messed-up way, Carla was disappointed. She’d built it up in her head that this was going to be traumatic, earth-shattering, but it just mildly stung.

“Count!” Jake yelled.

“One.”

CRACK!

The other cheek. Same intensity. Not a big deal.

“Two.”

CRACK!

Back to the first cheek, the lashes striking the same spot they had before. It wasn’t any harder, but this time she felt it more.

“Three.”

CRACK!

Other cheek again.

“Four.”

CRACK!

Carla gasped. The third time on the right cheek, and the sensations were building. Her skin had become more sensitive, and it seemed to ignite when struck.

CRACK!

“Five.”

Now Carla was bracing herself. Only halfway done, and getting more intense.

She waited.

Seconds passed.

Why had he stopped? He’d only gotten to five.

He promised ten!

The last thought hit Carla harder than the whip had.

Oh my god, do I want more?

CRACK!

Carla moaned when it hit her again. But this time it didn’t feel like pain. It actually ignited a throb between her legs.

“Six,” she whimpered.