The sun had risen hours ago. David had called the domestic staff and pleading flu had given them all the week off. He had cancelled every business appointment and social engagement he had made for the same time period. Damn feeding the gossip mill at work. Once he had begun to realise quite how voracious was Charlotte's appetite for his own favourite type of sex play, he wasn't leaving her for a moment when she might have time to reconsider. To recall her staid, respectable C of E upbringing. Her lifelong status as a “good girl, which having time and solitude to contemplate, in company only with her own new aches and pains may well have motivated her to and turn tail and flee from him, even now.
She was the fucking crown jewels of fucktoys and he wasn't taking any chances on losing possession of her.
After that first round of explosive carnal encounters, having collected Charlotte's fresh glad rags they drove into the glittering city and dined at Fruits of The Sea During the course of that meal, David had got Charlotte to open up to him about what she wanted from him. He had hoped against hope that her enthusiastic acceptance of that first spanking had not been a mere flash in the pan. And he had found he was correct to hope that.
After the show stopper at the restaurant he knew she had potential. They had fucked and played; talked and read for two days before he even began to appreciate quite how much potential she had within her.
They were not sated yet, either of them. Far from it. They were considering the enormity of the pleasure they could draw from one another in the hours and days to come and how best to maximise that. The depths this relationship might go to were worrying David. He had thought of her as a prize but ultimately he had not thought to become emotionally involved on any level. He never had before. And by god he'd had his share of amazing women.
He had begun to realise that this one might be in a different league.
The possibilities it might hold. Thrilling possibilities, but for Charlotte, quite frightening possibilities as well. He told her of his long time search for sexual fulfilment. Of unusual tastes he knew he had early on. Of how he struggled against them for a long time. Not ever really feeling they were wrong, but knowing that a large segment of society surely did. He had plans. He had ambitions. As time went on he had a high public profile and a shitload to lose from a scandal breaking. He had no wish to bring himself into ignominy. To be labelled, with the salacious eye and mind of the tabloid press or gossip mill as “Perverted” “kinky” “deviant.”
High class hookers were, David had found, both the most co-operative and the most circumspect of playmates. Extremely high priced hookers as time went by. It was remarkable what a $1000 an hour escort was willing to do for a fellow, he had often thought. He liked many of them as friends and dinner companions too. And they him. It was a business relationship of course, but it was a very friendly business they were engaged in. Mutually beneficial too.
Then, as he became more successful, had access to even more money and a wider social circle, he found others who shared his tastes. Not just the discrete professionals in the field now willing to engage in his fantasies with him, but some of the most “respectable” people in Sydney society. He laughed wryly, telling her though that there had been plenty of the professionals even after he found the volunteers. And in many ways he liked them better and felt more for them than he did many of his newer and better connected amateur playmates.
Felt more for them in fact than he had felt for any woman, until Charlotte. He knew now, looking at her, sleeping so innocently in his bed that nothing he had ever felt for any hooker, any jaded socialite, any ambitious actress or aspiring pop star had ever come close to equalling what he felt for this flawless looking young girl, raised on a sheep station and tutored in a mediocre Anglican Girls Grammar School.
**
Leaving the restaurant had been an ordeal Charlotte could well have lived without. She had sat waiting for David's erection to subside, watching him across the table, shaking and desiring him with every part of her.
She needed to use the loo, but was terrified about the state of her dress. How wet it must be. Surely they'd see. They'd notice. They would know she had been sitting there without any knickers on. Leaking her slutty sex juices all over the furniture. They would stare and titter. Leer and smirk at her. She knew that when that happened she would wish to die of shame.
She had tried several times to get David to help her. Between Alain's visits to the table to clear plates, offer coffee, even bringing her an unasked for snifter of Cognac, which she had grasped gratefully, burying her pert, upturned nose into its rim. Inhaling the intoxicating liquor long before it got to her mouth, making her swoon and warm.
“ David!” she had hissed at him more than once. “I have to go to the loo, But what will I do about my dress? At the back David. It's wet! ”
David, high on the feeling of having her so utterly at his mercy was cruelly less than helpful. He shrugged and frowned slightly each time she pleaded. At one point he said quite carelessly “Well and if they do Charlotte all that will happen is that the men will envy me and the women you. For none of them are about to get the fucking we'll give one another this night, I'll stake my life on that.”
Charlotte though was becoming seriously distraught at the notion of it and squirmed in her seat in an agony of discomfort at her bursting bladder and the prolonging of that sensation caused by her refusal to surrender to this, her final humiliating fate.
Without her even noticing he was at her back, Alain had suddenly appeared behind her chair.
“ Your wrap, Miss” he said softly, a friendly, almost brotherly smile lifting his lips, looking defiantly across the table, not at her but at David.
He was stunned that he was risking this, with the boss's best mate seemingly so determined to inflict total humiliation on this poor shaking girl, but Alain was to the tips of his toes a proper gentleman. It was why he was so astonishingly good at his job. And he simply found that he could not watch Charlotte brought this low. His own little role in the floor-show, well that was one thing. Charlotte had enjoyed that too, he rationalised. But she was not enjoying this.
Alain was used to David going a bit too far with the hard bitten tarts he constantly brought here. But it had disturbed him with Charlotte, though he had enjoyed the sight of her body much more than he had any of the others. Still he knew; there were limits and Charlotte had reached hers this evening. She would not need to display her soaked gown to the room at large. Not if Alain could help it. If it cost him his job, so what he reasoned. His reputation in the industry was unequalled. He would not be unemployed for long.
“ You looked cold Miss, so I fetched your wrap from the cloak room.”
It was a silk shawl in fact, Gold and luxurious. A huge triangle of fabric every bit as fine as the stuff of Charlotte's probably ruined gown. It had in fact been left behind a week earlier by some visiting American soapie starlet, probably now long gone off to St Moritz for the skiing. At any rate she had never bothered to call about it and Alain had decided, his eye happening to light upon it as he went to fetch a fur for some old cow who was leaving, that it was Charlotte's ticket to regaining her dignity . . if she would have it from him.
Charlotte swung around, shocked at the sound of his voice and took in the beautiful cloth he was holding out to her, and understood immediately the sensitivity to others it had taken, and the courage to risk his job for some silly little slapper who had put herself in this ignominious spot.
She found tears springing to her eyes as she gasped out
“ Oh Alain. How kind. Why are you so kind?”
Alain leaned down and spoke quietly very near her ear, all the time keeping his steady eye on David's face. The older man's chiselled jaw setting, as he realised he was being thwarted in continuing his fun by a fucking waiter.
“ If you stand Miss, I can help you adjust it.” And he gently pulled her chair back for her, using his own body to shield the view of her from those still dining behind them, lingering over their own coffees and cognacs, looking around now that their meals were done with more interest at the glamorous looking couple up there in their secluded little nook.
As good as his word, Alain gently and expertly arranged the flowing metres of golden silk over Charlotte's passively extended forearms, looking down just enough to ensure that it was indeed hanging well below the garishly damp and darkened tell tale signs of her sensuous little adventure just past.
“ There Miss.” he said in a louder voice, one he wanted David to hear. “All fixed up. You'll be quite comfortable now.”
Charlotte closed here eyes in gratitude as she felt the protective fabric drape over the evidence of her shameful display. She felt she had not behaved well enough to deserve Alain's chivalry and was all the more grateful to him for that.
“ Alain. I can't thank you enough” she said, looking into his eyes and seeing the sympathy there and the smile of encouragement. He winked at her too, but unlike David's winks it was not salacious. It was conspiratorial. Two kids besting the mean teacher, and doing it right under his nose.
David fumed but held his tongue till Charlotte had closed the door to the ladies. He turned then to deliver to Alain a dressing down, but the boy forestalled him.
“ I know. You'll have my job for this. Well fuck it. There's other jobs. She's too good for this kind of tackiness, that one. “ he said as he inclined his head to the direction Charlotte had gone in.
Alain drew himself up. Ready for the verbal assault which would surely bring the boss out from his kitchen. The kicking to the curb. The hunt for new work tomorrow. He was slight and nothing like as tall as David. Barely taller that Charlotte in fact, but his youthful good looks and his steel eyed gaze arrested David momentarily. The kid had guts. And principles. David admired him for that. Admired him even more for the lack of fear he was showing even now and also for the unspoken words he could feel hanging off the edge of the lad's tongue “She's too good for you.” It was in his eyes though. Loud and clear.
David, to his credit had the grace to feel a little shamed. He had become far too excited. He had perhaps gone far too far. Being pulled back by someone he thought of as a kid and an underling had shocked, then angered him. But when a man's wrong, it's up to other men to tell him so. David was big enough to admit that. Charlotte was not one of his whores. she was a jewel and it had taken a kitchen lad to make him recall that. He was uncomfortable at the thought he had acted badly towards her. Glad that this boy had had the temerity to stay him, before he damaged her irreparably, though his terrible pride would never allow him to admit it out loud.
He held the lad's gaze for a moment and finally merely said
“ Bring us the bill then Alain and we'll be out of here, I think.”
The most pleasing shock of Alain's professional life turned out not to be finding a $500 tip in the bill-fold David handed him after he had held the door for them to exit through, but the discovery of a small note, shoved under her cognac glass in Charlotte's neat little hand saying
“ I will be forever in your debt, Alain. xxx"
He folded it more carefully and secreted it away with greater concern than he had the wad of cash David had left him, in place of the words it would have taken to acknowledge the rightness of the young man's chivalrous actions.
***
She was doing really well. He was proud of her. Proud of himself for having seen the potential in her. And he was awestruck by how fucking beautiful she was splayed out on his bed like that, ropes binding her wrists together and then to the bed head. Over her head and quite high up, so that the upper half of her body was forced into an arch. And her pert, perfect breasts were raised up off the mattress...within east reach of hands grasping from behind.
And grasped they had been. Grasped, squeezed, bitten, Nipples rolled and twisted and chewed.
Each leg was secured to its side of the bed by the posts at the foot, Tied high and wide.
“ The view from back here is truly incredible my lovely” he said to her. She was lying face down, ar$e up on the bolster. Still shuddering and writhing from the strength of her last orgasm. He was none too steady himself at this point to tell the truth. This woman was truly carnal. Pliant, giving, passionate and adventurous. And tantalisingly innocent too. He had introduced her to many erotic pleasures she had never dreamed of this night. And promised her many more.
He reached his hand out, and drew it ever so lightly across the peach-perfect cheeks of her upraised ar$e. He could feel the heat rising from them. Still see in the candlelight the rosy red glow of them, achieved by the weight of his cupped and then his flattened hand. The the light play paddles. She had loved those. Begged for more of them later. He had been so happy to obluge.
No other implement though apart from the gentle play paddles. she had liked them. she had liked them a great deal. Nothing too intense. Too off-putting. Not yet. He had wanted to warm her up just right.
Warm her up! Jesus Christ. She had barely needed warming. She was smoking hot. Interestingly, she seemed to have quite a high threshold of pain. At one point in the proceedings, with him praising her for her pain tolerance she had informed him it was the product of 10 years of classical ballet.
“ Toe shoes teach you to grin and bear it.”
“ Explains the flexibility too.” he had laughed, throwing her legs back behind her ears and once more burying his face in her sopping mound.
They had discussed it all in some detail in the car on the way home. After he had slapped her arse raw in that car park, with the security camera taping it all. Holding her skirt up around her waist. Bent over the bonnet of the jag, hands outstretched before her. She had come at least twice during the fifty hard whacks he gave her. He had damn near come himself watching her.
At home, in his room, he had explained to her how we wished to proceed. If she wished to try something she had only to ask. He would not force anything on her. He would stop whenever she said he had gone far enough. He would use no implements to spank her (yet). He would make no suggestions (yet) Give her no orders. It was all up to her. If she wanted to explore, he was delighted to be her guide.
But she had to ask.
“ David, please twist my nipples really hard”
“ David, please slap my arse”
“ David please tie me up.”
And ask she certainly had. She had asked, pleaded, beseeched, and finally wailed the strength of her desires. She had come so many times even David had lost count.
“ Fuck bunny” he nuzzled her neck as his long fingers pushed inside her still convulsing quim, and his thumb rolled lazily back and forth across her clitty.. So hot and wet and swollen down there. Her tight little pussy seemed to clutch at his fingers, contracting around them again and again...she was doing it deliberately...clenching the muscles in there, trying to draw him further in.
His other hand roamed across her inflamed buttocks again. He used a firmer touch this time and she stirred, twitched - wincing a little. But the moan which escaped her lips sounded born more of pleasure than of pain to David. Or at least, maybe equal measures of each.
“ Oh God fuck you're beautiful!” he exalted. “and insatiable” He loomed over her, put his mouth all around her ear, poking at it with his tongue. Nibbling. Biting her lobe. She yelped and giggled. Then he whispered hoarsely right into her ear:
“ Would you like me to fuck you again baby? From behind...while you're tied up and helpless?”
“ Oh yes...yes please, David”
Whack!
He bought his cupped hand down on her ar$e and she yelped...much louder this time.
“ Well I am afraid you little minx that I might need an hour or two to arrange that. You've fair drained the old bull for now.”
He ran his hand over her tender ar$e again, fleetingly drew his fingers over her soaking, turgid pussy. Ran the tips of his fingers along the line of her spine, Massaged the nape of her neck, kissed it, licked it, bit at it.
She began to moan again and he said:
“ Oh no. I need a rest Charlotte - Charlotte my deceptively demure little Harlott - a long rest and some sustenance.”
He rose from the bed then, standing beside her looking down. There she was, staked out for him to take as he pleased. He shuddered in a very pleasant way and knew for certain, that this one was going to be different. Better. Sublime.
“ But I think we'll leave you tied up like that darling while I pop off to the kitchen to make coffee and a sandwich.”
He leaned down to her, grazing her cheek with his forefinger,. She could smell her sex juices, mixed with his own rich musk on the finger and it set her pulses racing again.
WHACK!
His hand came down on her upraised arse without warning or [preamble. Hard and sharp. She inhaled and squirmed with wicked pleasure.
“ There's a little something to remember me by while I'm gone.”
He left the room to the echo of her yelp...and the deeply erotic sound sound of her moans and whimpers. He smiled. Oh yes. She was going to be the one.
**
“ David?”
“ Yes gorgeous?”
Kissing her in the small of the back. Raining light little touches of his lips over the curve of her spine. The rising crescents of her buttocks. He ran his hand ever so softly over her ar$e. She jumped and twitched. Shuddered. Gave small whimpers of pleasure and a tiny moan.
She whispered something inaudible, face turned into the pillow. He grinned. Oh. The vixen. She'd come up with something interesting then. He had noted with amusement that the more interesting and adventurous of her suggestions were being offered with some shyness.
The hand he had laying on her arse cheek slowly closed around the firm, hot, reddened flesh. Squeezing firmly and steadily.
“ Speak up my dear. Enunciate clearly, there's a good lass”
She looked back at him, straining to get a look at him. When she finally managed it, she flushed bright red and laughed.
“You did hear me!”
David was sitting beside her, his beautifully crafted black kid belt in his hand. A grin spreading from ear to ear.
“ I knew before you asked me precious. I could feel it in my soul.”
He doubled the belt over in his right hand and hefted it once, twice, three times...into the palm of his left. The echoing quality of the “crack” at each landing of the belt in the quiet room had a tanalisingly lovely effect on Charlotte. Most particularly on her derriere, which twitched and trembled in anticipation.
She was bent over the bed, feet barely touching the floor, legs spread wide, her wet luscious lady-parts temptingly open to his gaze. And to his hand and tongue; teeth and cock. He had made good use of all above appendages on them too. On it, in it, over it and around about it, he thought to himself smugly. What a grand little fuck she was. Transporting.
He had thought she might be alright to have a bit of a go on. A distraction. A refreshing change from the jaded (though undeniably beautiful and highly skilled) women with whom he generally cavorted. Then, when he had tired of her, he had thought to offer her some nice overseas post. A promotion and a Business Class ticket the hell out of his way. It was not as if her abilities in the work place didn't merit recognition. It would work beautifully for both of them.
What a fool! Tire of her? Christ how could any man ever tire of this? He couldn't think of any good reason to have her anywhere in the world other than where she was right now.