The Elliot Silvestri Erotic Reader Volume 6

by Elliot Silvestri

  Her phone buzzed several times in rapid succession. She could feel it in her purse sitting next to her on the booth’s seat. Even Jordan paused in eating.

  “I’m not going to answer it,” she told him. “We’re on a date. It’s rude to check one’s phone during an actual date.”

  “It buzzed like a hundred times. It might be something important.”

  He was exaggerating but Rhette thought about her grandmother who only texted when it was important and maybe a hundred other scenarios where someone was dying in a hospital. “Just to make sure it’s not an emergency,” she said.

  She didn’t have preview set on her lock screen. When she saw the pictures she had been sent, her eyes went wide and her face went a red as her hair.

  “Problem?” Jordan asked.

  “Just my friends being asses,” she said dismissively, trying to recapture her previous positive attitude.

  Not wanting to spoil the date or upset Rhette unnecessarily, Jordan just nodded and moved forward with the conversation. It was apparent, even to him, that whatever message Rhette had seen on her phone had upset her greatly.

  For her part Rhette tried not to think about what she had seen on her phone. It was stupid, she knew. She could have called off the date with Jordan and rescheduled, making up a lie about a sick relative. What was unsettling was not so much what she had seen; the pictures didn’t surprise her so much as what her reaction to them had been. Rhette knew she should have been upset and horrified; instead she was turned on more than she wanted to admit to herself.

  The dinner proceeded apace and she let Jordan carry most of the conversation flow. She was terribly distracted by the pictures that she had been sent and even more distracted by her reaction to them. Under other circumstances she would have slipped off to the bathroom and jilled off for some relief, but she had earlier made a promise to herself that she’d fuck Jordan. While that wasn’t a legally binding agreement—and Jordan didn’t even know about it—she still felt a certain sense of obligation from it; Jordan was going to get laid as long as he didn’t say or do something incredibly stupid.

  “Dessert?” Jordan asked as the waitress cleared their plates. Rhette’s first reaction was wondering if he was teasing her because she needed to lose some weight. She wasn’t that fat, but she knew her ass was larger than average. But she remembered that he had already fucked her several times and didn’t seem the least but put off by her extra weight. He was just being polite.

  “No thanks,” she said politely.

  “What would you like to do next?” he asked. “Drinks? Movie? Extravagant shopping trip?”

  “I do most of my shopping online. Let’s go back to your place and fuck.”

  Her sudden bluntness actually caused him to blush and look around to see if anyone had heard her. All the other patrons in the restaurant were ignoring them.

  “Okay,” he agreed. “If you insist.”

  His apartment was nice, clean and neat for a guy who lived alone. She wasn’t interested in the interior decorating; she was only interested in the bedroom. His sheets smelled only very vaguely of him, but strongly of laundry detergent, so he either went overboard on measuring out the Tide or had recently changed the sheets. Either way was good.

  Jordan wanted her to ride on top of him, which wasn’t her favorite position, but she needed to keep her mind occupied and having his cock inside her while he played with her tits did the trick. She couldn’t, however, cum.

  “Do you want to switch positions?” he asked after they had been at it a while and she was close to cumming, but not there yet. “Lots of women can’t cum when they’re on top.”

  “No,” she said, distracted by his conversation. “Keep going. I want to cum this way.” She leaned forward, mashing her tits into his chest. “Just fuck me hard.”

  He responded by shoving his cock up into her straight and fast, doing his best to make her cum, but she knew it wasn’t enough.

  “Slap my ass,” she groaned.

  “What?”

  “Slap! My! Ass!” she barked at him.

  He paused. “Didn’t you…didn’t you get that done already today?” he asked. Jordan didn’t know how to bring up the fact that he knew she had already been spanked that day. When they undressed, he had seen her ass and it was still red from whenever she had been with the guy she described as her dom.

  A wave of embarrassment swept across Rhette’s face. “Sorry,” she said.

  “What are you apologizing for?”

  “You…you don’t like me doing that, do you?”

  Jordan was confused. “I never said that…and what you do with your body…that’s up to you.”

  “You sound like a pro-choice commercial.”

  He shifted uncomfortably underneath her; it wasn’t from her weight, it was from the situation. “Well…it is. And it’s kinda hot, if you ask me.”

  She blinked at him. “You think it’s hot that I like getting my ass paddled by a near-stranger.”

  “Um…yeah. Makes you seem really adventurous.”

  It wasn’t a lie detector, but she could feel his cock throbbing inside her pussy. Maybe it actually did turn him on. “Then slap my ass and make me cum,” she told him. “I’m not going to keep fucking a guy who can’t spank me the way I need.”

  “Really?” he asked.

  “Just do it fucking right,” she told him. “I need to cum.”

  “How do I know if I’m doing it right?”

  “You’ll know,” she said with an eager grin as she started riding his cock again. She wasn’t doing it as vigorously as before, but there was a steady rhythm to her hips.

  Jordan slid his hands down her side to rest on her hips but he hesitated there.

  “Don’t stop,” she told him. “If you can’t spank me, I can’t be with you.”

  He lifted up his hand but hesitated. Reminders of never to hit anyone, let alone a woman, let alone a woman he was sleeping with, stopped him from doing what she wanted.

  “Dot it!” she told him, looking him in the eye.

  He wanted to please her. That’s the only reason he slapped her.

  The softness of her flesh under his hand was surprising. The thud that filled the air sounded like a gunshot. Her body jerked in pleasure.

  “Yesss,” she hissed.

  “You liked that?” He was alarmed.

  “More. Do it harder.” She started bucking her hips in anticipation of the flare of pain.

  Jordan took a breath and slapped her harder. There was a pause in Rhette’s motions as she absorbed the pain.

  “More,” she begged.

  If it was what she wanted, Jordan was willing to give it to her. After the first two spanks, it was easier for him to keep hitting her ass. She gasped in pleasure each time he landed a blow and her pussy clamped around his cock. He held back as long as he could but eventually the dam burst and he started cumming. That allowed him to spank her hard and fast. That’s exactly what Rhette needed. Cumming on top of Jordan’s cock was mind-clearing; she knew exactly what she wanted to do.

  Afterwards, when Jordan stumbled to the bathroom to pee and clean up, she grabbed her purse and extracted her phone.

  It was a foolish risk, but she quickly thumbed through the pictures that Helena had sent her. Rhette had to admit that she looked beautiful in them with her reddened ass and the look of pleasure and torture on her face.

  The question attached to the bottom of the message caused her stomach to flip-flop. She already knew the answer, but actually sending it was another matter.

  Sent these to some friends. Blurred your face out. You’ve been invited to a party to show off your skills and body. Interested?

  Helena knew her so well. The other woman had lied about taking her picture while Nick had spanked her, but that didn’t truly upset Rhette. In truth, she almost expected it of the blonde. There was a thrill of pride in knowing that others admired her skill at…at being spanked? Was that a skill? Doubtless Helena already knew h
ow Rhette was going to answer.

  When and where? Rhette picked out on her phone, but paused before sending the reply. Did she really want to do this or was she just flirting with a fantasy? It was one thing to play in private, but another entirely to do it in front of a group of strangers.

  The toilet flushed and Rhette panicked. She hit the send button and tossed her phone back into her purse before Jordan reappeared.

  He didn’t need to know everything yet.

  Chapter Seven

  There had been a girl in Rhette’s high school class who was deemed a major beauty by the class and the general public of their town. Monica had gone on to some minor status as a model. She had eventually died of a drug overdose of some sort; Rhette purposefully forgot the details.

  There had been a boy in her class who was labeled a major acting talent, starred in all the school plays, and headed to Hollywood to make it big. He wound up as the young and handsome host of some minor game show. It ran for a while then it was announced Scot was taking a break from the show and disappeared from sight for a couple of years. Eventually she learned that he had died of some AIDS related illness.

  The point being that Rhette had neither beauty nor talent and yet Helena claimed some strangers wanted to see her body and skills. Rhette knew she was too fat to be beautiful—even though there were plenty of men and women in the world who admired the type of curvaceous body she had. The skill of being able to enjoy being spanked…and whipped…and paddled…and caned seemed an odd skill to want to see, but Rhette taught math, not psychology. She didn’t know everything about the human brain and sexuality.

  What she did know was that Nick and Helena would certainly want her naked in front of a group of strangers while she was spanked.

  The idea should have repulsed her.

  It would have repulsed her parents.

  Instead the idea excited her more than she cared to admit. She would go through with it, but she wasn’t going to tell anyone or let on to anyone, how much she found it exciting. Maybe she was depraved, but she was fine with that.

  “It’s just a little party,” Helena said, lecturing to her really while Nick got her prepared. “Maybe a few more than a dozen people, all eager to see something new. And you are something new.” Helena was perched on a stool in Nick’s workshop. She was wearing a white summer dress with yellow flowers worked into the design along with her golden jewelry and brilliant saffron hair. If not for the incongruous location, she could easily have been a modern-day aristocrat holding court.

  Rhette had a simple question that she knew would cause problems. “What am I expected to do? Do I…do I have to fuck someone?” She tried to keep her voice level, even, and hinting at fear, but inside she was so eager it hurt.

  “You have to stand there, be admired, and take a good spanking and paddling. Maybe a caning. And then, maybe, just maybe, if you are in the mood, you might be allowed some…carnal delights.”

  She was glad that her head was tilted up at the moment; that made it difficult for Helena to see her smile. Nick was wearing his usual black boots, black jeans, black tank top, all topped by his thick shock of black hair which made her wonder if he was color blind or just lazy at shopping. At the moment he was working the rope to the anal hook into her braid, braiding and re-braiding her hair trying to get it just right. The fact that she was naked didn’t disturb or bother anyone in the workshop. For her it had become her natural state.

  “Perfect,” Nick finally declared and spun Rhette around so she could be inspected by Helena. The pair of sunshine yellow rope interwoven with her hair highlighted the redness and dangled down her back, brushing the swell of her buttocks.

  “Do you think you can do it faster Saturday night?” Helena asked.

  “Yes,” he snapped at her. “That’s why we’re practicing now.”

  “How come you didn’t put the hook in me first?” Rhette asked.

  “Don’t be so impatient, dear,” said Helena, trailing her fingers down Rhette’s back and the ropes, lingering a moment too long on her smooth buttocks.

  “Because it’s easier this way,” Nick replied, actually answering her question. “Don’t worry; we’ll put it in soon enough. And you’ll get what’s coming to you.”

  It took all of Rhette’s self-control not to giggle.

  “Put your hands behind your back,” he told her. She automatically complied.

  “Such lovely breasts,” Helena commented. “We should really decorate them.”

  Nick clucked his tongue while he helped Rhette into the leather sleeves that immobilized her hands. These were shorter than the ones she had previously used, but more comfortable. “Don’t give in to that temptation,” he said. “We need to keep the focus on her ass.”

  As Nick worked Rhette had to adjust her posture which made her tits stick out further than normal. Helena reached out and caressed Rhette’s tits which caused a shiver to run down her spine. It was entirely too familiar a gesture but Rhette didn’t object.

  “The sleeves will keep your arms immobilized,” he told her. “So you’ll need to walk carefully. Are you good in heels?”

  “I haven’t fallen in years,” she said boldly. “But I don’t think I have anything over two inches.”

  From the canvas bag on the bench Helena pulled out a pair of sky high yellow heels. “I checked your other shoes, these should fit perfectly.” As she knelt down to slip the elaborate footwear onto Rhette, the redheaded woman wondered when Helena had the opportunity to sneak a look at her shoes and get the correct size. As it was, Helena was correct. The shoes were perfectly sized and angled so sharply that Rhette felt like she was nothing more than a display for her tits and ass. That, she supposed, was the point.

  “Walk carefully now,” Helena instructed her.

  Rhette took a few tentative steps. She felt the weight of the hook hanging from her braid, tapping lightly against her ass. Her hands were trapped behind her back which threw off her sense of balance and she started to stumble and fall before she took more than a half dozen steps. Nick was there to catch her.

  “We’ll practice,” Helena told her. “And if you aren’t good enough, we’ll make sure either Nick or I are at your elbow.”

  “That’ll make her look like a dowager who can’t find her way to the funeral parlor,” Nick groused.

  “So put a collar around her neck and we’ll add a leash to it. She’ll look fine. Inexperienced but fine. There’s a charm to those who are inexperienced but eager,” Helena said, catching Rhette’s eye with a knowing look. “Have you ever worn a collar before?”

  Rhette slowly shook her head. “No.” The chill ran down her spine again.

  “Find her a nice one,” Helena said to Nick. And then to Rhette: “Now bend over the spanking bench. I want to put the hook up your ass.”

  The practice was easy. It was actually showing up to the party and performing that was difficult. As much as she wanted to embrace her secret self, Rhette realized that while she had become comfortable with being naked and used sexually by Nick and Helena, doing it in front of strangers was another thing entirely.

  And the couple acted like it was just a normal thing for her to strip down and be the object of sexual interest for a small crowd.

  She started hyperventilating in the backseat of Helena’s car. Nick was driving and Helena was sitting with her. They had insisted on dressing her at their place and then driving over to where the party was being held. Dressing was an overstatement; Rhette was wearing the yellow heels Helena had bought for her, thigh high stockings, the yellow collar they determined was necessary, and nothing else. She already had the yellow line braided into her hair and she knew that Nick had brought along the anal hook and sleeves for her hands, but other than that she had nothing. They had given her a light jacket to wear while in the car, it barely came down over her rump, but that was it. She was exposed and at first it had been exiting, her pussy had gotten wet at the thought of getting into the car, but once in the car, she
realized what she was doing and it became an issue.

  “Okay, I can’t go through with this,” she said between gasps for air.

  “You’ll be fine,” Helena reassure her blandly, not concerned. Nick glanced up into the rear-view mirror but said nothing.

  “But what if someone I know is there? What if it’s too much for me? What if-what if-”

  Helena abruptly cut her off. “You’ll be fine. Everyone there knows how to be discrete. No one is going to reveal your secret life, not if they want to do this again. You are just expressing your own sexuality and you have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m not going to put up with this unreasonable behavior.”

  Her voice had the commanding authority of a veteran school teacher who was used to dealing with petulant children. It worked on Rhette, much to her surprise.

  She forced herself to slow her breathing and get control of her emotions. This was supposed to be fun, not a disaster. She wouldn’t let herself fall apart. She was proud of who she was.

  The house Nick pulled up in front of was a marvel of contemporary design. It was all unusual angles and bizarre spaces. It was also incredibly large and ostentatious. While it wasn’t billionaire rich, it was the house of someone with too much money who didn’t know how to spend it well. There were a variety of high end cars in the driveway and on the street. Nick and Helena got out of their, in comparison, rather modest car. Rhette didn’t have their confidence, but she had never been in this situation before; they had. As they walked up the path to the front door, Rhette stumbled once and Nick steadied her.

  “Time for the leash?” he asked his wife.

  “Not yet. Not out in public.”

  Rhette was glad for that answer.

  The door was answered by a middle-aged woman in a rather modest gray dress. It took Rhette a second to realize this was the maid or housekeeper. Music was playing inside and she could just barely see people moving about in the large room that made up most of the downstairs. A second glance told her that those in attendance were in all manner of dress and undress, modest and outrageous. She swallowed to steady her nerves and looked at the housekeeper who seemed unperturbed by the unusual trio in front of her. She must have seen dozens of parties like this before.