When in Rio (18 page)

“Of course. Thanks. Um, so anyway, it took me a long time to even try dating anybody in London. I saw a few people who… A couple of times I sort of picked up some women at a club I’d found, which was a very stupid thing to do. Even with precautions. But it was
that
sort of club, so I knew what I’d be getting into from the start, and so did they. I was lucky not to catch anything, I guess. Eventually…oh, maybe five years after I’d gotten there? About the time Globe bought out the company and I thought I might end up back in the States, I met somebody at work who was like the gay Clark Kent.”

“Excuse me?”

“Mild-mannered and straight-acting on the outside, but he takes off the suit and…”

“Gay Superman?”

“Well. Male Lois Lane, maybe, is a better analogy. If Lois Lane were a petroleum engineer. But the thing is, one day he was fussing with his tie and he went to take it off to retie it, and I saw that telltale sign. Collar-chafing marks. And not from too much starch. So I checked the wrists and sure enough…more chafing. And he was not sitting comfortably, shall we say.”

“Needed Tiger Balm,” I quipped. “Speaking of which, when do I get mine back?”

“Later, later.” He patted my head patronizingly. “Story time first, little Katie. So I finally worked up the courage to make a few sly insider jokes to Wesley, with the collar chafing, and after pretending not to get my drift the first few times, he finally broke down and told me
far
more than I wanted to know about his sex life. So much for the famous British reserve. And more importantly, he brought me along to meet some people.

“Nothing really lasted. It was just an educational time for me. There was a girl I saw for a few months, but it didn’t really work out. She was very
subby
, but then she tended to get resentful if I actually did anything on the Dominant end that she didn’t like, or didn’t read her mind to figure out what she actually wanted. She wasn’t exactly topping from the bottom but in a passive-aggressive way, I guess she was.

“I also did a lot of research online, frankly. I don’t mean porn, I mean actual research, because I’m a geek. Scholarly articles about the psychology of it, that kind of thing. And a lot of other reading on the subject, which helped pass the time and was usually pretty interesting, although I don’t know how useful all of it was.

“Then too, my new boss’s wife kept trying to set me up with people, just these very nice girls who I felt obligated to take out but I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were just beards. I think she did start to wonder if I was gay and just a really good actor, because after a few years of that she gave up. I guess
I
sort of gave up. I was mainly focused on work, anyway, more and more into the management side of things, and then of course purely into the management side. And then came the reorganization and…back to Houston.”

“Anticlimactic?”

“Not really. I mean, I came back to be a VP and it was kind of a coup to get upgraded that far, that fast. Mainly I got lucky. They needed somebody in that spot who had both the science and the business credentials.”

“I don’t think it was just luck. I’ve seen you work, remember? And you’re not just a VP anymore either.”

“Well, thank you. It’s about time you did some of the flattering. Of course once I got back here, my sister Anne…she’s pretty open-minded and knows her way around a bit.” I didn’t mention, of course, that I already knew quite a bit more than he was telling me about Anne. “She introduced me to some people. But I don’t know…none of them really piqued my interest. There was this girl at the office, is the thing—this very, very
smart
girl, kind of shy and bratty at the same time, with the most amazing white skin.”

Jack pulled me in a little tighter with one arm and slipped the other hand neatly under the hem of my skirt, which I’d pulled down over my knees. His hand began a slow, stroking rhythm along the back of my thigh, and he leaned close enough to my ear that each word tickled the edge, sending a series of thrills along that side of my body.

“And all I could think about was how she would look tied to my bed, completely at my mercy, while I slowly and methodically turned her creamy ass so red it was almost—not quite, but
almost
—raw. No bruises, not even too many broken blood vessels, just bright, cherry red against all that white. Very distracting. And then eventually, of course, I would start thinking about how it would feel, after doing that, to fuck her silly in every possible way I could dream up. Do you think I was able to dream up a number of different ways, Katie?”

“Yes Sir,” I whispered, already under his spell. Right there, on the beach, in the open. Just like that…like magic. His hand, which had been stroking lower with each pass, finally came to rest against my sex, covered though it was by a layer of silk that did nothing to hide the fact I was already thoroughly wet. Even the light brush of his fingers set me shaking, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out when he slipped his fingers underneath the fabric and pushed one inside me without preamble.

“You would let me take you right here on this beach, wouldn’t you, little one?” he asked, clearly already knowing the answer. He had found my clit and was fingering it now in agonizingly slow circles.

“Yes Sir…oh don’t stop, please don’t stop…!”

I felt his laugh through his arm and side, rather than hearing it. “I’ll stop when I want to, little one, you know that. And you’ll come when I want you to. Not here, and not yet. I’m just playing with my toys right now.” Looking up and down the beach, he tried to assess the crowd and the darkness. There was nobody close to us now, even the sounds of the party were being blown in the opposite direction, and he must have deemed it safe enough because he suddenly removed his hand.

“If you want to keep those panties, you have about two seconds to get them off before I tear them off.”

“Y-yes Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
That Jack, always so thoughtful.
The panties were off just in time for him to grab them and stow them in his pocket before reaching for my hand and placing it squarely on his lap. I hadn’t realized he was as aroused as I was, but I realized it then. His erection felt hot and tight, stretching the denim of his jeans.

“Take it out.”

“I…yes Si— You mean
here
?” I couldn’t help it. It was a public beach. Mostly deserted, mostly dark, true, but…

“Excuse me?” I felt Jack’s hand cup my breast and then tweak my nipple just sharply enough to qualify as a warning.

“I…I’m sorry, Sir. Yes Sir.” And I unbuttoned Jack’s jeans and carefully lifted his erection free of its nest of denim and soft cotton boxer briefs.

“Better. Now one for the mental scrapbook, I think. I’ll call it, ‘Copacabana Beach—Little Katie, licking my cock like an ice-cream cone under the moonlight’.”

“I hope you treasure it always, Sir,” I sassed, but quickly sucked his tip into my mouth to avoid repercussions…for the moment.

“Such a smart little mouth,” Jack said a little breathily, wrapping his fingers firmly into the hair at the nape of my neck. “But I like it even better when it’s full of my dick.”

I had shifted so I was lying on my side over Jack’s lap, with my knees curled toward his hip, and he let go of my hair after a minute to reach down and pull my skirt up a little more in front, just past the
vee
of my legs…giving him a private view of the very top of my exposed pussy although my skirt still covered enough of my rear. From whom, I wasn’t sure, since anyone who looked very closely at all would see instantly what we were doing. Still, I could only suppose we were not the first to use this beach in this way.

I suckled Jack with a growing enthusiasm, surprising myself in the end by how turned-on it made me to lick and suck his cock out in the open. Jack seemed a bit surprised too, coming more quickly than I imagined he would, wrapping his hand in my hair again as I swallowed each spurt and then lovingly licked him clean.

“Hmm. Good girl, little Katie. See, that wasn’t so bad once you started, was it?” He was tucking himself back in, buttoning his fly.

“No Sir,” I said truthfully.

“You did well, little one. But you didn’t start when I told you to, did you? Not right away. What do you think I’ll need to do about that?”

“Punish me, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

Jack grabbed my shoulders and sat me up, gently lifting my chin and holding my eyes with his, searching.

“I mean it, Katie. You didn’t do it right away, and that’s what I want from you when I do get to the point where I’m actually ordering. Do you understand?”

All too well. The fuzzy glow of having pleased him was already fading in the face of his disappointed frown. “I do, Sir. I’m ready this time, Sir. I
think
.”

Jack’s smile was just visible in the low light. I realized dimly that the bonfire was dying, the party around it quieting somewhat. “We’ll work it out together. Come on, back to the room.”

There was much dusting off of sand—although I was stuck with a bit of it in the one place I really couldn’t dust it away—and Jack pulled me in for a rough kiss, bending me back over his arm and wrapping my hair around his other hand, before leading me back to the hotel.

Chapter Sixteen

Jack was fairly terse when we got the door closed behind us at last, saying only, “Strip. Go rinse the sand off, then on the bed like last time.”

“Yes Sir,” I said, already unfastening my dress and heading for the bathroom. I was naked and free from sand when I got to the bedside, and had just time to see Jack digging in his suitcase—he must have transferred the contents of his bag—before I arranged myself facedown with my arms and legs spread.

Ah. He had also acquired long tether straps at some point, because once he had cuffed my wrists and ankles, Jack fastened the tethers to the cuffs and secured me in my spread-eagle by running the tethers down to the legs of the bed. I was splayed out on my stomach like a starfish, and Jack wasted no time in taking advantage of my position by once again sliding his finger inside me—a bit more roughly this time, since I wasn’t quite as ready as I had been earlier—and then with more care, stroking my clit as well with short, rapid strokes until I was wet again, and had started bucking my hips toward the delicious pressure.

“Not yet,” he reminded me, and drew his hand away, patting my bottom softly. “Now, you do still owe me one with the paddle, little Katie.” Jack bent over from where he was seated on the bed to kiss my forehead. He was still in the jeans and button-down shirt he’d worn to dinner, and as ever the disparity in our dress was arousing in itself. I loved being naked when Jack still had clothes on. “Focus, Katie,” he growled, clearly seeing my mind was wandering. “One little pop so I can gauge the distance, and then one stripe—and it
will
be a stripe—with the paddle. Then…it’s a second offense, isn’t it? And it was fifteen last time. So let’s say twenty with my hand this time, for the beach earlier. We’ll go slowly and you’ll count each stroke. If you lose count this time, we go back to one and start over. Fair enough?”

“Yes Sir,” I replied.

“Glad you think so. Not that your opinion would change anything at this point, of course.”

I suddenly got the piece about the strokes increasing for subsequent offenses, and was glad the count was starting as low as it was. Still far fewer smacks than I might enjoy, were I meant to be enjoying them. But twenty seemed like an awful lot after last time’s mishap.

Jack took a moment to shift my hair up out of the way, twisting it into a loose knot over my shoulder, before he stood and I heard the whistling sound of him taking a practice swing in the air.

“Paddle first. Remember, one stroke so I can gauge the swing and then the real one. You don’t have to count this first one.”

Smack!

The “practice” stroke was every bit as bad as I feared it would be, and only made me dread the real one more. That one came hard and fast on the heels of the first, a crack of fire against my ass, and I yelped loudly, twitching at the suddenness of it, the thoroughness of it. Tears were already rolling down my face and I had no idea how I would get through the rest of this.

Jack had leaned in and was tracing a slow line down my back with the edge of the paddle, steering clear of the mark I knew must be blooming in fiery red now. I twitched and bit back a sob, not wanting to disappoint him again, but…

“I…
dammit
! Don’t, wait! Yellow, yellow light!” I couldn’t bear it. I didn’t want to stop but I knew I couldn’t go on yet.

“
Shhh
. Okay, that’s okay. Good girl. I’m proud of you. I know that must have been hard.” Jack had climbed onto the bed with me, was lying down alongside me, and started wiping my tears back with his fingers, rubbing my shoulder gently afterward in slow, soothing circles. “Katie, I’m really proud of you for doing that, for admitting you needed me to slow down, okay?”

“Okay. God, it
hurt
! I
hate
that paddle.”

“Yeah,” he said, amused now that I was obviously going to survive. “Which is exactly why I plan to keep it around. I’m thinking of having it mounted in a case with a sign, you know, like a fire extinguisher. ‘In Case of Noncompliance, Break Glass.’ Hang it next to the bed as a reminder.”

My pained chuckle was his cue to get up again, which I knew he must but still regretted. “Time to get back on the horse, little one?”

“Yes Sir. Go…green light.”

“Good girl. Now twenty with my hand, and you’re counting. Don’t lose count this time, little one.”

I didn’t lose count, although Jack also didn’t really hit his stride until the early teens and it felt like he might have pulled back just a bit on the last two. But still, it was no fun, particularly not on top of the paddle welt. Focusing on the numbers kept me from dropping into the blissful headspace that usually let me warm to the pain, and I was crying so hard by the time he was through I could barely choke out the numbers.

Crying and pleading and thanking Jack through my tears as he came to my side again and petted me, praised me, told me it was all over, that all was forgiven.