Money Shot (94 page)

Valerie nodded assent, somewhat in awe. Was she going to have a normal sexual encounter for once? One as equal partners?

As much as she’d discovered an instant, powerful sexual attraction between her and the older man, she found the thought of normal lovemaking a little disappointing. It was what she was
supposed
to want, but did she really want it?

Riccardo took off his jacket and shirt and laid them on the grass. His chest was, as she’d predicted, magnificent. Smooth, with just the right amount of dark brown hair. “Arms up,” he ordered.

Valerie raised her arms. A branch was overhead, just beyond her reach. Riccardo unclipped the leash from her collar. He looped it over the branch and used the ends to tie her wrists together. Now she was stretched to her full height, practically on tiptoes in the stiletto heels. Her blouse had pulled out of the skimpy skirt’s waistband and its tail fluttered in the breeze.

Riccardo examined her like a prize. He tapped his chin. “Now this,” he said, “I like,” and he pointed at her as he said it.

She did too. The leather strap binding her wrists was warm and supple in the sun, and the simple fact of being restrained was incredibly erotic. She was at his mercy, her trust placed completely in his. If it had been her choice, no, she wouldn’t have chosen to be tied up by her owner’s father outside, even if it
was
secluded. She felt incredibly sexy with her body stretched out this way and her horniness emboldened her.

She playfully stuck her tongue out at the man who’d just a few minutes earlier called her a wanton slut.

“Oh, you want more, huh?” he said.

She wondered if his pants would stay up without that belt, because the way the front was tented it sure looked like they would.

“Turn around,” he said.

Was that a six-pack? How many greying middle-aged men had six packs?

“
Now.
”

She was reluctant to turn away from the fine vision, but didn’t dare incurring his wrath any further. She carefully turned and faced the tree trunk, as she did so feeling how easy it would be to lose her footing and wind up hanging by her wrists. The lawn behind her was quiet, interrupted only by occasional rustling.

SMACK.

Something had hit her backside and the sting was incredible. “Yow!” she yelped, her back arching as her body tried to get closer to the tree. The movement made her breasts finally spill out of the low-cut white blouse completely.

“Isn’t this what you were asking for?” Riccardo said mildly. He showed her the switch, a long, flexible stick freshly cut from a nearby willow tree.

Valerie quickly shook her head from side to side. He ran the tip of the switch down the front of her blouse, grazing her hard nipples where they poked the fabric. “Hmm,” he murmured, “Or is this what you’re asking for?” He tapped her nipple with the switch. It stung, and Valerie’s breath hissed inwards.

Riccardo was like a dog with a bone. “Which is it, piccola? Tits or ass?”

This was a devious cruelty. Not merely to beat her, but to force her to choose the beating. And if she didn’t respond, he’d just as likely do neither as he’d do both, because she was sure Marcus had filled him in on what stimuli she responded to. Tits, she could see him, watch that lean woodcutter’s body in action. But…her nipples were still sore from the frat party and the clamps. Ass, well, that was much less sensitive, but that too was sore from the party. Why had that horrible woman caned her? Still, it was the better option….

“Ass,” she said with finality.

He lifted her chin with his index finger and kissed her. “An excellent choice,” he said, smirking. He left her facing the tree and went back behind her. He yanked the tiny skirt and the thong underwear down past her hips and let them fall to the ground.

Her initial analysis was correct; the swats stung like thick lashes but nothing like it would have felt on her breasts. Riccardo seemed to enjoy variety. She could not predict what he’d do next. He hit her right cheek, then left, then her thighs; high on the buttock, low on the buttock, and on her left leg where the curve of her fleshy ass met her thigh—this one hurt the most: she yelped.

Riccardo kept up a running commentary on her appearance and what he thought of her.

“Little slut.”
WHACK.

Each stroke stung like crazy, old ones lingering as new ones were laid over them. She cried out at the harder ones, not caring if the neighbors, so far away, could hear.

“Ciccia.”
SMACK.

That one hit low on the back of her thighs, and her knees buckled in reaction, putting all her weight on her bound wrists. Riccardo’s arm instantly wrapped around her waist, and he whispered, lips on her ear, “Can you go on, cara?”

She was in his arms and she was so turned on that her thoughts were muddy. Her skin was warm and tingling with electric sensation, and all she knew was that she wanted to please him, not just for Marcus’s sake, but also because
he
seemed to need it.

She nodded. He stepped back and renewed his efforts, each blow a tiny bit harder than the last. Now that he had a measure of her body’s response, the swats stung just on the brink of pure pain, but not beyond.

“Seductress.”
THWACK.

Her body naturally cringed away from the switch, which led her to being pressed against the wide tree trunk, chest first. The rough bark scraped against her breasts, and particularly her nipples, with each hit.

“Piccola puttana.”
WHACK.

Her ass was on fire. So were her legs.

And her pussy. She wanted to fuck him, to feel him inside of her, take her own measure of
his
response. But she couldn’t, not of her own volition. No, she was at his mercy, tied to a tree half-naked.

The switch was poking between her thighs at their upper junction. No thigh gap on her, of course. She got the message, and stepped her feet apart. They only went a few inches, due to her arms being held so high overhead, but it was enough.

“Whore.”
And the switch sprung up between her legs, right between her pussy lips, right on the flesh that protected her clit. It sent a jolt of energy to her core and she cried out, this time in pure lust.

Riccardo tossed the switch aside and grabbed her shoulders and spun her around, growling, “Whores don’t come.”

“But–” Valerie breathed, weak and needy.

He shoved her back against the tree, and left her there while he unfastened his belt and stepped out of his pants. Those hand-tailored pants, strewn on the grass like the blazer and dress shirt as if they were jeans, as if they were nothing.

She hadn’t imagined the tenting. His cock was erect, pointing slightly upward, towards her. He was completely naked, his slender, sculpted body twitching for her.

He crashed into her, taking her face in both hands with a rough kiss, pressing his entire body against hers, into the tree. His erection pressed into her belly. She opened her mouth eagerly for him, pressing her lips to his, exploring his mouth with her tongue.

He let go and took hold of her thighs, lifting her legs up as he guided his cock to her dripping slit. He thrust deep inside, her slick walls welcoming him. She wrapped her legs around his waist. It felt as if her entire body were impaled on his shaft.

She wanted to hold him herself, wished she could touch him more of her own volition, but this was the way he wanted it and her orders were to please him. His large, strong hands held her sides steady as he drove his erection up inside of her. She felt his width filling her, his length sliding in and out as he slammed into her, her raw ass being ground into the bark of the trunk behind her. He’d worked up a sweat using the switch in this oppressive heat. She buried her face in his damp chest. His sweat-smell was raw and earthy.

He stroked one of her outstretched arms, pulled high above her head, as his pelvis slammed into hers. God she was being gloriously fucked. His hand pawed her voluptuous breast, nearly covering it. His strokes slowed and became steadier, nearly still, and his other hand snaked down between their bodies. He leaned back, his cock still buried to the hilt within her, and his finger encircled her clit. His cock
twitched
as he stimulated her.

Valerie closed her eyes. Her breathing became shallower and quicker, and she made little nonsense sounds. She could come any second. Her orgasm was quickly gathering within her, the warm energetic sensations threatening to spill over at the slightest provocation. “Please,” she murmured, looking into Riccardo’s eyes once more. “Ohhh…” She felt the sweet contractions of her inner walls beginning. “Please, Riccardo….” She felt brazen, begging like this, but she knew it was her only chance.

For the first time since she’d met him back in his office, Riccardo’s face softened. “Cara…Valerie…yes, come.” His finger’s pressure near her clit increased, and he pulled out of her partway and thrust back forcefully. Valerie let go and allowed the orgasm to wash over her. Her entire body arched as the waves of pleasure spread. Riccardo came too, his penis twitching inside of her as he shot his seed. He wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug, her legs still tight around his waist, and they stayed like that for several moments. He kissed her forehead and then her lips, tenderly. “Good girl,” he murmured. Valerie’s arms were tiring, but other than that she felt wanted, appreciated.

Riccardo stepped back, pulling her legs away from him and leaving her to stand on her own again, tied to the tree limb above. He put his suit back on, barely glancing at her. She wondered when he was going to untie her. When he stood before her once more, he was resplendent in his Brioni suit, which apparently was made of such wonder material that it didn’t wrinkle. She was acutely aware of how different their current appearances must be, with her naked from the waist down, Riccardo’s cum dripping down her thigh, ass marked from the switch, breasts pouring out of the now-torn sheer white blouse, and her hair no doubt a bird’s nest.

His face, though, was a mask.

“Did I…please?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said. “Sluts always please.”

Valerie’s stomach twisted.

He continued, “When the groundskeeper cuts you down, you will crawl back up to the front door. Carry your panties in your teeth.”

“But…” Valerie began, and stopped. She sighed. “Yes, sir.”

Riccardo turned and marched up the lawn towards the house as if nothing had happened.

Reward

Soon the gardener arrived. He looked uncomfortable in his jumpsuit uniform. She wished she could’ve at least covered herself with an arm, but no. She was exposed, again, to yet another stranger.

He leered at her like she was a candy treat left unwrapped for him to stumble upon, then grabbed her breast in one meaty palm. He kneaded it and buried his face in it, sucking her nipple. The gentle touch soothed the sore skin, and each tug sent small jolts through her body, reawakening her lust. She moaned.