Tales of Pleasure and Pain (3 page)

"It looks terrific when it's bright red," Jack assured him.

"I imagine Roslyn can be quite wicked sometimes, with a petulant attitude? I can just see her whine and plead. Of course, she won't get away with it, will she?" Bryce suggested.

"You do have a grasp of her personality," Jack suggested.

"Submissives have some things in common."

"She kicks and cries and pouts a lot," Jack informed him.

"All the more reason to paddle her."

"She can be quite a bitch," Jack affirmed.

"Then she gets exactly what she deserves."

Roslyn listened to the two discuss her as if she wasn't even there. She was getting hotter every second, a crude passion awakening within, being the object of their repartee. This was exactly what she imagined it would be like. And the longer they jabbered the more she wished that Jack would simply pull her from her seat and paddle her bottom right then and there.

Alas! She wouldn't have the satisfaction, at least not that night. Though what began in the restaurant continued as a long slow tease. In the weeks that followed, the three of them were together on a number of occasions. When they were, Jack and Bryce persisted in dropping hints of spanking into their conversations. And each time, the same fiery results occurred; Roslyn's loins would be searing. When she and Jack were alone again there'd be a firm quick spanking and she'd be cumming madly in her pants.

Jack was delighted by her body's eager response. After each meeting, he was assured that
spanking her in front of Bryce was that much closer to taking place. She was ready, and all they needed was the right moment.

Roslyn managed to survive the anticipation with Bryce and Jack through two meetings in a bar, and an afternoon after work, in their home. But it wasn't until a Saturday barbecue in their backyard, that the prospects of a spanking in front of Bryce became a reality.

Their new friend was one of several guests at the party, and he proved to be a charming addition to their casual gathering. Though during the evening, Bryce kept Roslyn off guard, whispering in her ear gentle reminders of her submissive nature and his dominant intentions.

". . . we should bare that little butt of yours right in front everyone . . . "

Roslyn shivered when she heard his voice.

". . . wonder what your friends would think, if they heard your bottom being paddled from your bedroom? . . ."

To that one, Roslyn snapped a sharp retort, and walked away.

". . . keep sashaying this naughty ass in front of me and you're going to get a rude awakening . . ."

This comment was accompanied by a brisk slap to her rear, which made her jolt. And she responded by fashioning another snappy retort, that earned stern looks from both Bryce and Jack.

Abruptly reminded that her attitude was being carefully watched, Roslyn toed the line the remainder of the evening, worried that the teasing game was finally over, and the real thing might just begin.

At midnight, when the guests had left and she was in the kitchen putting the last dishes away, Jack's booming voice called her to the living room. It took her by surprise. Padding into the other room, she was astonished to see Bryce there. She thought she'd said good-bye to him earlier when everyone else was leaving. She'd even kissed him on the cheek. But now he was staring her down with eyes nearly as intense as Jack's, and she knew something was about to happen.

"Quite an attitude you had tonight," Jack commented. He was sitting in his leather chair. Roslyn recognized the authoritarian voice and the cold darkness of his eyes.

She was instantly wary.

"I thought it was just a playful banter," Roslyn said looking directly at Bryce.

"Playful? Maybe. But it all adds up," Bryce countered. "I think it's time you paid for your sassy tongue."

"Come here," Jack said, pulling himself to the edge of his chair. She knew exactly what was waiting.

The familiar soft surge of erotic energy that she'd grown accustomed to in the past few weeks was rising in her once again. Looking from Bryce to Jack, then Bryce again, their stern expressions only enhanced the sensations. The long foreplay finally over, she tingled from head to toe with both fear and arousal.

"Give me your spanker," Jack asked.

From no where the leather implement appeared, first in Bryce's hand, then in Jack's.

"Jeans down, bare bottomed," Bryce instructed.

"Your call my friend," Jack said, more than happy to comply. He pulled Roslyn down over his lap and tugged at her pants until they were at her ankles. Roslyn's ass was bare for them both to see, and if they could have seen her face under the mane of tangled blonde hair hanging over her face, they would have seen a crimson blush rising on her neck and cheeks. "How many?" Jack asked.

She felt Bryce's warm hand reach out and squeeze her bottom, lest she forget that he was there; though that was hardly possible. The fact that another man was eyeing her in this humiliating pose made her bottom clench as if some how that would expose it less for his eyes.

"I'm sure she can take a couple dozen, but let's not decide too quickly, she could well take many more than that," Bryce commented.

Roslyn's "audience" eyed her firm round ass cheeks with obvious appreciation. Bryce had known many fine rear ends from Jack's point of view, and a few from the one he now had some few feet away from Roslyn. He could only hope that this tantalizing scene would play out more than just this once. She was not a passive submissive, but the fiery kind he liked best.

The smacks began with swift, meaningful efficiency. The sting of the leather spanker was nothing like Roslyn had ever felt before. With the first dozen laid on, she was protesting mightily even though a warm surge of sensation was rising inside her. However enjoyable it initially was, the pleasure soon disappeared as the second dozen smacks of the leather hit directly over her warm flesh.

"Oh god no," she moaned over and again. The burn was becoming intense.

"This has a terrific feel," Jack commented to Bryce, referring to the noxious leather
spanker he gripped in his hand.

"Isn't it perfect, and look what a rosy red is appearing," Bryce added, "I think she can keep going for quite a while yet."

"No I can't!" Roslyn shouted.

"You, my dear, don't have the choice," Bryce reminded her sternly. "It's up to Jack, but if it were me, I'd be working your fanny for at least a half hour. I can see why he needs to be so firm with you. You get to acting like a little bitch."

"I do not!" Roslyn objected, but her objection was drowned out by another swift dozen strokes of the paddle.

"Ow, ouch, oh my god!"

"You just earned a
n
extra long session for that last comment," Jack said. You don't seem to know when to quit with that unruly mouth!"

Roslyn wailed as the paddling resumed. Her fiery buns wiggled and squirmed in an unsuccessful effort to get away from the furious blows. But he only held her more tightly.

"If you don't behave yourself, I'll keep going," he warned.

Roslyn calmed herself to some degree, though she couldn't hide her sobs and protests.

"Please Jack, please Bryce," she pleaded.

"Are you going to curb your tongue?" Jack asked.

"Yes, yes please, I promise."

The spanker smacked her again.

"Oh pleeeeese," her protests continued.

The two dominants could have gone on and on, though they both recognized that Roz was nearly at her limit.

"Has she had enough you think?" Jack asked.

"Oh yes please, please stop," she managed a sincere sounding plea.

"A final dozen hard," Bryce said, getting Jack's silent agreement. There was no nonsense in Bryce's voice now, not even a hint of play. He was speaking as if she really deserved the cruel treatment and was getting exactly what she earned.

Jack laid on the final twelve, slowly, deliberately, with
emphasis;
he always liked to end her
paddlings
with a flourish. And this was one of his best.

Roslyn sobbed for sometime once the paddling was finished. Finally, not rising by herself, Jack pushed her off his lap.

"Present yourself to Bryce," he ordered.
 
With her pants still at her ankles she found herself standing before her "audience", recognizing a new level of embarrassment. She'd never exposed herself to another man, and under these circumstances it was dreadfully uncomfortable.

Bryce appraised her thoughtfully. "Yes you have a nice cunt," he said matter-of-factly, "but that's for Jack later. Turn
around;
I prefer to see those red buns of yours." There was nothing teasing or gleeful in Bryce's voice, he'd dispensed with the playful torment he and Jack engaged in earlier, becoming the stern disciplinarian she both dreaded and loved.

Turning around and exposing her bright bottom for his scrutiny in the cool aftermath of her punishment, was an even greater humiliation than when she was bared over Jack's lap.

The effect on her was astounding.

And though it was uncomfortable, it was natural for her comply with Bryce's demands, since she'd yielded to her inherent submissiveness. Likely, she would have done anything he asked at that moment.

"It's adequate," he said, referring to her ass cheeks. "
But
I don't think she's gone to her limit." He gave each cheek an eager smack with his hand. "Go stand with your face in the corner so I can still see this rosy butt." He gave her a gentle shove and she took her raging body to the living room corner, feeling like a naughty child.

"Let's do it again," Bryce suggested as he continued to eye Roslyn's fine backside. He was rising to leave.

"By all means," Jack replied. I think we got exactly what we wanted."

The two men said good-bye at the door, while Roslyn remained with her face to the wall.

You had your fill tonight?" Jack finally asked, after the door clicked shut and Bryce was gone and he'd turned to gaze at the fading blush on his wife's ass cheeks.

"Oh yes," she said, cautiously turning around. Her body was on fire with sexual need. Seeing the lust in Jack's eyes, they quickly made up the distance between then, arms around each other, groping with a passion they were fast becoming used to.

He squeezed her ass cheeks.

"Oh more," she urged.

Jack pulled her to the couch, and they groveled lustily the next hour, pronouncing the event a huge success,

There wasn't any question about another evening with Bryce. There were many. And true to form there was no predictable pattern for their activities, all three preferred, being spontaneous, never really planning for Roslyn's next spirited spanking in front of her "audience."

The tease worked well on all their loins, even Roslyn couldn't balk the way her fires were fed by the punishment and humiliation of having two dominants to satisfy her. Then again, she always craved being the center of attention. She could hardly ask for more.

But there was more . . .

. . . that inevitable moment when her other dominant took the reins and went from voyeur to disciplinarian; when Roslyn got the chance to feel another man's lap and another man's strong arms and another man's hand coming down to punish her perky round cheeks.

Even though the possibility was always present, the idea of Bryce actually spanking
Roslyn
had never been discussed, so it came as quite a shock that first time. Roslyn suddenly had a good deal more than she ever bargained
for .
. .

The three were together at a party; and as if Bryce and Jack had some ulterior motive, they deliberately talked about "spanking" within earshot of several of the other guests. The well placed hints about the trio's "secret life" quickly turned to whispers and giggles from curious guests. They were suddenly all a titter about the spanking games, which to most were an intriguing novelty. While beer and wine flowed, and spirits seemed to soar with boisterous chatter, more than once a guest was heard to wonder what it would be like to watch the robust paddling of a female bottom.

As usual that evening, Roslyn was sparring with Bryce; they often had a jaunty banter that enlivened things between them. Bryce, a little more "party animal" than Jack, seemed to fill Roslyn's need for such animated frolic and it only added fuel to the fire later ignited, when Bryce would suggest to Jack that she'd earned a good paddling for her saucy disposition.

On this night however, Bryce was in a somber mood. Initially it didn't seem to matter to Roslyn; her good humor made her indulge in some witty stinging comments. And no doubt a little wine helped shed her inhibitions, keeping her from accurately ready Bryce's temperament. But the more the evening wore on, the more annoyed and caustic Bryce became. And when Roz had finally gone too far, there was no one, including Jack, to rescue her from the consequences. (In fact the whole time Jack stood back with a pleasant grin and a shrug to his shoulders, enjoying his wife's sticky predicament and the results.)