A Wicked Game You Play (3 page)

“Whose idea was it that you shave your pussy?
Robert’s?”

She nodded.

“I like it, you’re more naked like this,” he
said, sliding his fingers in deeper.

Kate groaned with delight as his thumb found
her clit. Deftly he coaxed the tiny bud from its hood, stimulating
it until it tingled, engorged, and the desire to give herself to
this charismatic man swelled within her again. He rolled his
thumb-pad over the swollen organ until Kate’s orgasm nearly took
her, then he pinched her clit cruelly. His sudden kiss sucked the
cry of protest from her throat.

“You’re wet already. You like it, the pain.
Robert said you would.”

At the mention of Robert’s name, Kate
started.
Robert; where did he fit into all this?
But, before
she could think over what he’d said, he trailed his finger, wet
with her juices, up to her mouth.

“Suck,” he said, pressing his index finger
into her lips.

Obediently, Kate fellated his finger. She
tasted her musky, salty flavor as she licked it clean.

“Kate, I’m going to punish you now,” he said,
hoarsely. She read the desire in his eyes, and the disapproval. She
felt confused about his motives and about her conflicting emotions.
She didn’t deserve punishment. It sounded horrible, medieval, yet
thrilling also. Unbidden, her fantasy came back to her again. Maybe
she could control it after all.

“Will it hurt?” She asked, her voice small
and childlike.

“Yes it will,” he said simply.

Taking the stick again, he traced its point
over her body. He drew lines over her trembling flesh, leaving in
its wake pinpricks of anticipation as she tried to figure out what
else he intended to do with it.

He used the stick in a way that suggested he
did not want to touch her body. It contradicted his earlier
intimacy—the intimacy she’d allowed and given freely. He explored
her, like a plantation owner from the south gone by. It was, for
Kate, both humiliating and strangely arousing. She found the poking
of her breasts; her nipples, the timid line of her hips; her taut
thighs; and, finally, leisurely, the protruding folds of her sex,
incredibly stimulating. She suppressed a groan of pleasure. The
stick returned as if honing in on her cries and lifted her
breasts.

“Walk with me,” he said, softly, but in a way
that brooked no argument. “We’ll go into the trees, where it’s more
secluded.”

A rush of fear threatened to overwhelm her.
The trees, where he could do the unspeakable.
Kate followed
meekly anyway. He led her into a thicket where they stopped.
Shivering with cold and anticipation, she turned to face him, her
mouth open to receive his kisses. Instead of his mouth, she felt
his hands gripping her bare shoulders. She opened her eyes and
stared questioningly at him.

Saying nothing, holding her in his steely
gaze, Anthony reached up and easily snapped a long, thin branch
from a nearby tree. His gaze fell not on her bottom, where she
would have expected, but her breasts.

Looking imploringly at him, her eyes widened
even further.
He planned to whip her breasts!
She felt her
heart start to drum even harder in her chest. Could she take that?
What would he do to her if she couldn’t?

Before she could decide what to do, or what
not to do, he reached out with all the confident finesse of an
artist putting the finishing touches to a painting and lightly
brushed the end across her nipple. Instinctively, Kate tensed and
started to moved her body away, but he tapped the inside of her
breast sharply enough to warn her;
don’t move
. He drew the
branch back menacingly and held it about a foot from her chest. The
implied threat was obvious.

“Caress yourself,” he ordered.

Kate hesitated, oddly embarrassed. Shaking
his head, he snapped the stick forward, slapping her left breast
with a loud, stinging
thwap
. Not only did the blow sting, it
sent a dull ache deep into her breast, making it bounce from the
impact. She moaned, though not just from the pain. She started to
reach for her sex, but not quick enough. The next lash made her
jump.

“You will do as I say. If I have to repeat
myself I’ll use this branch on you in ways even your perverted mind
couldn’t fathom.”

Kate looked at the ground, in embarrassment,
not so much from his demand, but from his comment.
Perverted?
How did he know she enjoyed it?
The pain from the second lash
lingered, demanding pleasure to balance it out, yet she still
hesitated. She wasn’t sure why; it wasn’t as if she hadn’t thought
Robert may have been watching her just minutes before. But she
hadn’t played with herself
knowing
someone was there, not
even for Robert.

But even that shouldn’t have been humiliating
enough to keep her from doing as he ordered. She could see the
desire in his eyes, despite his severe expression. He wanted her to
resist, giving him an excuse to whip her. She wanted to give him
that excuse.

It wasn’t until after the third lash cut
across both her breasts that she dropped a hand to her lower belly,
more because she had to do something to distract her from the new,
and more brutal, sting than because she was ready for him to stop.
She closed her eyes, blushing in shame as her fingers moved over
her mound. She could feel his eyes on her, could hear his breathing
speed up. She heard him come closer as she gently brushed her index
finger along the lips of her cunt.

The inner lips parted, displaying the light
pink of her inner pussy. Her breathing quickened. She imagined his
hand replacing hers, his cock, hard and remorseless, punishing her
as he somehow found a way to lash her breasts while he took her.
Quicker now, she stroked, falling into the rhythm she needed.

Her hips arched forward, inviting him to take
her. Her bottom quivered. She raised her thigh to show more of
herself. Another wicked slap of the stick against her breasts only
increased her excitement. As though from faraway, she heard him
call her name and felt a rough cylindrical shape press into her
palm.

Opening her eyes, she saw the fetch stick in
her hand. Guessing what he wanted from her, Kate drew the branch
over her clit, sawing the wood roughly against her sex, crying out
in pain as the more supple branch cracked across the underside of
her breasts.

She angled the stick, pressing it slowly into
her body while he snapped the branch twice more. Her breasts were
burning constantly, and wonderful new pain from the fresh blows
shot like lightning through her.

“Oh, yes!” she cried, as she thrust her chest
out, daring him to beat her, pinching her clit so sweet agony
burned through both her breasts and loins.

But, instead of whipping her more, Anthony’s
lips crushed hers, hot and probing. They kissed like forbidden
lovers and she felt his hand tiptoe along her thigh, working toward
the hot wetness until he stopped abruptly and took a step back.

“Enough for now.” His eyes were full of
cruelty and mischief.

She panted, frustrated and unbelieving, while
he grabbed a nipple and yanked, leading her back to the car by her
breast.

Kate felt elated, and numb. The cold no
longer bothered her much. Her thoughts were chaotic and jumbled.
What am I thinking?
She asked herself. Guilt too, was
rearing its ugly head. There was Robert to think about.

Interrupting her thoughts, Anthony pressed
her towards the back car door.

“Press yourself up against the car,” Anthony
said. His voice was as cold as the afternoon’s sun.

As he spoke, he passed his hand over the
trembling cheeks of her naked bottom and gave the bountiful globes
a hard squeeze. Kate groaned, then sighed as his fingers pressed
deeper between her legs, the palm of his hand cupping her wet
warmth. He stroked her with affection, caressing as though she had
become his lover.

Surrendering, Kate pressed her body against
the cold window of the car.

“Closer,” she heard him say.

Closer, yes.
She shoved her chest
forward and squashed her breasts flat against the window. The glass
was so cold she was almost afraid they'd stick, but it still felt
wonderful on her fiery flesh. Her stomach touched the car’s door
handle. Surreptitiously, she rubbed her pussy there, grinding her
sex against it as if it were his cock, rubbing herself to take her
mind off whatever imminent chastisement he planned.

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked,
a tremble in her voice, not daring to turn around to look at her
tormentor.

“First, I’m going to fix it so you can’t
move,” Anthony replied in that same reassuring way, politely,
though firmly.

Getting into the car from the passenger side,
he pressed the rear window control. Kate felt the cozy warmth of
the car’s interior waft through the opened window. The heat bathed
her body briefly, warming her before dissipating.

“You’ve got beautiful breasts,” Mr. Johnson
said. “So soft and firm. I’ve often wondered what you’d look like
naked. Robert talks about you all the time. He’s quite taken with
you.”

“I love him too,” Kate replied. But, even to
her own ears, her voice didn’t sound convincing.

“Lean in further.”

Kate did as she was told, letting her breasts
drop in through the open window for him to enjoy in the warm
comfort of the car, while she shivered outside. She felt goose
bumps tighten across her bottom and thighs. The contrast was
invigorating.

Instantly, his lips found her nipples and
sucked hard. He suckled hungrily, drawing pleasure from her as a
baby draws milk from its mother. The longer he sucked, the more
enthusiastic he got, causing Kate to groan in response. They’d
always been very sensitive. Even before she met Robert and grew to
relish his rougher touch, she’d adored having them stroked and
fondled. She especially loved feeling a soft mouth envelope
them.

Mr. Johnson knew how to excite a girl, arouse
her. Kate offered more of her breasts, feeding the responding flesh
into his mouth, enjoying the way he started kneading them with his
fingers and the hint of pain as he raked his teeth back, stretching
her nipple until it popped free, glistening with his saliva.

“Oh, that feels good,” she crooned, hoping it
would encourage him. She put a hand between her legs and traced the
line of her pussy lips.

Still unsuspecting, Kate reveled in the
attention he gave her breasts. It wasn't until he suddenly crushed
them both in his steely grip and his teeth locked hard into her
right nipple that she felt the window begin to glide rapidly
upwards.

Like a guillotine blade, it bit into the
undersides of her breasts.

“Don’t move, Kate. This is part of your
punishment.”

“My punishment?” she gasped as the window
edge’s cold touch bit into the bases of her breasts, crushing them
against the top of the doorframe.

Kate had only thought his sudden grip had
been brutal. Now it felt like they were going to burst. As she
stood up on her toes to relieve some of the pressure, she felt his
mouth go back to work. Now the hard suckling caused a new dimension
of pain. She groaned and bit her lip. The fire in her pinched
breasts matched the flush of humiliation on her face.

She tried to free herself, pulling backwards.
But her breasts bulged on the opposite side of the window, caught
firm. Trying to pull free only increased the pain.

Kate threw her arms across the roof, but that
didn’t help. She whined imploringly at Mr. Johnson and reached back
between her legs in desperation. She just managed to drag a finger
across her clit, trading more pressure in her breasts for what
little pleasure a fingertip could provide.

Not only did Anthony seem unconcerned by her
pain, it turned him on…just as it did his son. A cool breeze
tickled her wet sex, reminding her just how outthrust her bottom
was. It made her think of how Robert liked to spank her. He’d slap
her ass and naked thighs, watching them tremble and redden until
she begged him to stop; but Robert’s spankings were a pleasurable
tingle compared to the torture his father was inflicting.

Almost as if he’d read her mind, Mr. Johnson
left the car and moved into position behind her. She felt his hands
stroking her mane of brown hair. He caressed the rippling muscles
of her back, and ran his hands over her flanks like an owner might
handle a beloved pet. Down, his hands went, to the dimples at the
base of her spine. The globes of her shivering buttocks rubbed
enticingly against one another. His hand went lower, into the fire
of her sex, possessing her, thrusting deep. She felt a second
finger join the first, then a third. The throbbing ache in her
chest changed to something no less painful, but somehow more
satisfying—something she was beginning to enjoy.

“Spread your legs, Kate.”

She did.

“That’s it. Wider.”

Again, she obeyed, suddenly less desperate
for the freedom of her aching breasts than for the deeper lunge of
his rigid cock. She almost screamed when he pulled his fingers out,
then she gasped when she felt a familiar presence prodding there.
Not his cock, but the branch.

“You look gorgeous," he said. “All you need
now is a good caning. Would you like that? A beating across your
lovely bottom to warm you up?” Gently, he bit her shoulder, the
sensitive area where her neck joined with her shoulder, at the same
time as he teased her sex with his fingers.

Despite her pain, Kate moaned and pressed her
bottom back toward him. God, nobody had ever turned her on so much,
she realized. She felt like a puppet, a toy, soft and malleable as
putty, to do with as he wanted.

He grabbed a handful of her ass cheeks,
pressing them together, squeezing them almost hard enough to
bruise, just using her for his own pleasure. He complimented her on
their shape and beauty. Now that she was satisfied she was safe,
she gave up all pretense of resistance. Like a wild animal
surrendering, her body was his, to treat as delicately or brutally
as he wished. With that surrender, she concentrated on the fierce
throbbing in her breasts and spread her legs even more. She closed
her eyes, relishing his rough touch, smiling at his quiet
groan.