The Elliot Silvestri Erotic Reader Volume 6

by Elliot Silvestri

  Rhette managed to deflect the two students who came up to her after class asking for help and quickly left campus. It didn’t take her long to drive to Nick’s workshop. She hadn’t arranged a meeting or even knew if he was there. She didn’t know where else to go because she couldn’t talk about this with anyone else.

  The workshop was in a semi-industrial part of the city. It was an innocuous location for the business and it shared a common parking area with several businesses. She walked boldly into the workshop like she owned the place. The door was open and Nick was there talking to a middle-aged man. He was holding a large cardboard box; there was no telling what was inside the box and it wasn’t Rhette’s place to ask.

  “Rhette, we don’t have an appointment scheduled, do we?” Nick asked after she stepped inside. The other man seemed startled, but said nothing. “I don’t have anything written down.”

  “No,” she answered, glancing at the man. “But can we…have a discussion about…” She let her request trail off.

  Nick looked back at the man. “If you need anything else, Johan, just text me.” The man nodded and scurried from the workshop. Nick turned back to her, his face sour. “Don’t come here without an appointment,” he admonished her. “You know my clients—like you!—want to conduct their business in private.”

  She ignored his demand and his tone. Without an introduction, she just said, “Riordan just asked me to be his slave.”

  Nick paused and raised his eyebrows. They disappeared into his shock of black hair. “And what did you say?”

  “I said…I said I need to think about it.”

  “Have you thought about it?” he asked her. He wasn’t counseling her. He was merely curious.

  “Yes…and I don’t know what to say to Jordan. What should I do?” She had barely given him any information and she was asking him to help determine the direction of her life. Nick knew he was in well over his head. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he tapped a few buttons as Rhette waited. “Hon? Yeah. Rhette’s here. Uh-huh. She says that Riordan asked her to be his slave.” He paused and then disconnected the call. “She’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Want me to paddle your ass while you wait?”

  She couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not and just shook her head.

  Nick went back to work on some project and she sat on a stood waiting for Helena. Obviously Nick didn’t feel prepared to counsel her on the choice Riordan had presented.

  When Helena arrived she asked a hundred and one questions, more curious about the situation that had developed than actually helping Rhette come to a decision.

  “So what do you think?” she finally asked Rhette. “Do you want to do it or not?”

  “Become his sex slave? I mean…it’s crazy…”

  “But you’ve already made a decision. Just tell me what it is and it’ll be easier for you to tell him.” Helena smiled encouragingly at her friend. “I’ve seen this before. It’s not a life-changing choice. Most times people who enter into these relationships…it lasts a few months. The longest I’ve seen is a year. Don’t stress too much about it. What’s your answer?”

  “If I wasn’t seeing Jordan, I’d say yes. If Riordan wasn’t married, I’d say yes. I want to say yes, but…”

  Helena shook her head, her smile now bemused. “You overthink everything, my dear. So talk to Jordan, talk to Sylvia, and tell Riordan your decision. Don’t think of it as some gigantic decision. This is more like…more like taking a part-time job. A job that has a lot of sex.”

  Jordan came over that night. It was a date they had prearranged. She made him a quick dinner and then brought him into the bedroom. She laid across his lap, gave him the paddle she liked, and insisted that he turn her ass red.

  He did.

  And then they fucked. It made it easier for Rhette to talk to him.

  “You can have sex with other people if you want,” she said after she rolled off him and lay next to his body on the bed.

  “What?”

  “I know you’re uncomfortable with me having sex with other people, so I’m giving you permission to fuck other women.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Is this because that woman Maureen gave me a blowjob?”

  She laughed a little. “No. Not at all. I just don’t want you getting jealous or conflicted if some pretty girl offers to fuck you. I just want things to be fair between us.”

  “I thought…I thought you wanted to be exclusive,” Jordan said.

  “Romantically exclusive. I’m not ready to be sexually exclusive yet.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with a beautiful woman willing to fuck me.”

  “I just want things to be fair,” she repeated.

  “Why?” he asked unnecessarily.

  “Because…because…because Riordan asked me to be his sex slave.”

  “What?” Jordan sat bolt upright. He hadn’t expected her to say that. “What…what did you say?”

  “I didn’t say anything. Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ. What do you want me to say? Do you want to be his slave?”

  “Sort of,” she said softly. “It sounds fun…but I don’t want to lose you because of it.”

  “It sounds fun?”

  “Yeah, having someone see to your every sexual need? What’s not fun about that?”

  “You’re bending my mind.”

  “Sorry. If you don’t want me doing it, that’s fine. But you need to tell me.”

  Jordan just gaped at her. “You want to do it?”

  She didn’t answer him directly. “If you found someone who was willing to fuck you every way you wanted, all you had to do was ask, would you?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “And I wouldn’t tell you no that you couldn’t do it.” Rhette reached over and found Jordan’s cock was hard. He had gone soft when they were done fucking and he was hard again. “You liked watching when that guy fucked me. How is this any different?”

  “Are you trying to talk me into it, or yourself?” he asked.

  Both, was the answer, but she didn’t say that to Jordan. It was too honest.

  Getting a chance to speak with Sylvia was the most difficult conversation to arrange. Rhette couldn’t articulate exactly why she needed to speak to Riordan’s wife, but she knew she couldn’t tell Riordan yes or no without speaking to her first.

  In the end she had to ask Riordan for Sylvia’s phone number. He happily sent it to her. Contacting the other woman—Riordan’s wife!—was a difficult process for Rhette, but she managed it.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi. Sylvia? This is Rhette. Riordan said he was going to tell you I was going to call—?”

  “Yes! Darling, of course. Why don’t you come over and we’ll do this in person. Phone calls are highly impersonal, don’t you think?”

  And that was how Rhette found herself in Riordan’s living room—again—speaking with Sylvia. The older woman was wearing a casual suit that made her look like she was going to a suburban housewife’s fundraiser for the local college scholarship fund. Rhette felt positively underdressed in her casual jeans and black silk blouse. After a moment’s reflection it occurred to her that Sylvia had set it up that way. She always had to be in control.

  “So, I said I wanted to speak to you because—”

  “—because Riordan asked you to be his slave,” Sylvia cut her off. “You should do it. Say yes.”

  “Oh. Wow. That was…but you already knew what I was going to ask.”

  “And I knew the answer I was going to give.”

  “Shouldn’t we discuss it a bit first?”

  Sylvia lifted on shoulder in a half-shrug. “If you want. But if you insist on that, I’ll need you to take off your clothes so I can whip your ass first.”

  Rhette found herself almost gagging on her words. It was so cold and blunt…and she found the idea of the supremely co
nfident Sylvia whipping her ass to be intensely desirable.

  “Why?” she finally managed to say.

  “Because I want to whip you,” Sylvia said bluntly. “I’ll enjoy it. You’ll like it. You’ll realize that being Riordan’s slave will be fun.”

  “I don’t think—”

  Once more Sylvia cut her off. “No. No more discussion. Take off your clothes and then maybe we can talk about it more.”

  Rhette almost opened her mouth to object, but the tone in Sylvia’s words made her fall silent. She stood up from the couch and Sylvia settled back in her chair. While she wasn’t ashamed of her body, or maybe she wasn’t as ashamed as she had once been, but it was one thing to get naked in front of Nick or Jordan or Riordan, but it was another entirely to take off her clothes in front of another woman who was eyeing her critically. Still…Rhette gave in to her submissive self. She unbuttoned her shirt and let it slip off her shoulders, falling to the floor. She left her bra on and unbuttoned her jeans while kicking off her shoes.

  It was easy to wiggle out of the jeans and stand in front of Sylvia.

  “Turn around.”

  Rhette did so. Not having to face Sylvia made it easier.

  “Do you always wear a thong?”

  “Yes. Usually.”

  “Good. You have a beautiful bottom.” Rhette shivered as she felt Sylvia’s fingers on her ass.

  “Thank you.”

  “Take off your bra and bend forward. Put your hands on the arm of the couch. I’ll be right back.”

  Once more Rhette did as she was told, unslinging the bra from around her torso and tossing it on top of her jeans and shirt. She bent over, placing her hands as Sylvia had ordered. Her breasts hung beneath her body. She didn’t like being positioned like this, but she did it anyway.

  It seemed like she was waiting forever. It wasn’t forever, of course, but she felt vulnerable which was exactly why Sylvia made her stand like that. It was all part of the game.

  The thought didn’t make her feel any better.

  She wished she had worn a watch or could see a clock from where she was bent over. The wait was only a few of minutes, but it felt like much longer. And yet, while she was vulnerable in this position, she sort of liked it. Wearing just her tiny thong she was vulnerable and exposed. She liked it more than she cared to admit.

  When she heard the soft footfalls of Sylvia’s confident stride on the thick carpet, Rhette relaxed a little. That was her mistake.

  There was no warm-up or time to prepare, Sylvia just walked up to her and smacked her ass with a leather riding crop.

  “Jesus Fucking Christ!” Rhette exploded.

  “Something the matter?” Sylvia asked casually.

  “That hurt!”

  “It was supposed to.”

  “But…Jesus!”

  “Oh stop complaining. You’ve suffered worse…and I can see that you like it.”

  “How could you possibly see that? All you did was give me a red mark on my ass.”

  “Your wet panties tell me.” Without asking permission Sylvia touched Rhette’s pussy through her panties. She was hot and wet.

  “Don’t…” Rhette begged.

  “Do you actually want me to stop?”

  “Yes…”

  “Liar,” Sylvia laughed and then brought the riding crop smartly across Rhette’s ass again.

  “Jesus!” Rhette exclaimed.

  “I heard he was into being whipped as well.”

  Despite the situation, Rhette let out a burst of laughter for which she was rewarded with another strike of the crop.

  “Do you want more of this?” Sylvia asked.

  “Fuck. Right now? No.”

  “No, not right now. Shit. Christ!”

  “No, do you want more of this tomorrow…and the next day…and next week…and next month.”

  Rhette knew the answer but didn’t want to say it. The pause was too long so Sylvia hit her again. The sting helped focus her thoughts.

  “Yes…”

  “See? Was that so hard? You already knew the answer.” Sylvia stepped to the side and, holding the crop lightly, caressed Rhette’s nipples with the leather-covered wood. She shivered. Getting her ass beaten was one thing; she didn’t think she could stand that sort of abuse to her tits.

  Sylvia took the crop away and stepped to the side. Rhette turned her head in time to see Sylvia unzipping her skirt and dropping it to the floor. Underneath she wore an elegant pair of white lace panties that were both sexy and demure at the same time.

  “Stand up,” she told the redhead.

  Rhette did as she was told and Sylvia placed her hands on Rhette’s shoulders to slowly push her to the floor on her knees. “What…what do you want?” Rhette asked.

  “You know.”

  She did know. Licking her lips, Rhette leaned forward and placed her fingers on the waistband of Sylvia’s panties to easy them down over her hips. Her carefully manicured triangle of pubic hair confronted Rhette. Sylvia leaned back against the couch arm and spread her legs.

  Rhette found going down on the other woman again to be a pleasant distraction from the pain in her ass. Sylvia was appreciative of Rhette’s efforts and moved and moaned to let her know. After the many changes in her life, Rhette found that her new skill of eating pussy was one she appreciated the most. Lots of men had trouble making women cum, but Rhette didn’t seem to have that problem.

  She came on Rhette’s face which was paying her a compliment.

  After she rested for a moment, Sylvia struggled to her feet and said to Rhette, “Stand up!”

  It was easy for Rhette to obey.

  “Thank you,” Sylvia told her and gave her a light kiss on the lips. “Would you like to cum too?”

  “Yes.”

  The crop had never left Sylvia’s hand. She now put it between Rhette’s legs, pressing it up against her panty-covered pussy, separating her lips, forcing the material tightly against her body. “So make yourself cum.” She pressed the crop harder into Rhette’s pussy, searching for her clit.

  When Rhette started to slide her hand into her panties, Sylvia slapped it away.

  “Make yourself cum with the crop only,” she told her.

  Rhette nodded and started rocking her hips back and forth, trying to get friction between her clit, her panties, and the crop. She closed her eyes and steadied herself by putting one hand on Sylvia’s shoulder. Sylvia didn’t object.

  It only took a minute before Rhette’s legs were trembling and she came. It was the most difficult orgasm of her life, but she took pride in it.

  Sylvia withdrew the crop. It was wet from Rhette’s pussy. “You should choose yes,” Sylvia said.

  “What?”

  “Either your relationship, such as it is, with Jordan will come to an end fairly quickly in the next few weeks or months, in which case a slightly shortened time with him makes no difference in the grand scheme of things.”

  “And if it doesn’t?” asked Rhette.

  “If it doesn’t, then you’ll either need to lead a life of sneaking around and hiding what you really want out of your sex life, or he’ll agree that you having sexual and masochistic relationships with others is necessary. And he should be happy for you for that.”

  Rhette just nodded.

  “You know who you are. You can either choose to live happily as you are or pretend to be someone else and be miserable.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I’m going to be Riordan’s slave. I don’t know if it’ll be for a week or a month or a year or forever, but I’m going to try it.”

  Jordan nodded, pretending understanding, and prepared for her to finish whatever little speech she had written in preparation of dumping him.

  “Is there anything I can do or say to convince you to stay with me while I’m his slave?” she instead asked, not ending their relationship, but attempting to continue it against all reason and logic.

  “What?”

  “I’m going to be fucking
Riordan,” she told him. “And he’s probably going to make me fuck other men. Well, not really make me fuck other men. I’m sure I’ll want to, especially after he spanks and whips me. That’s a burden on you, but I want us to stay together. What can I do to convince you to stay with me?” She smiled. It wasn’t her usual sexy smile but a winsome one, trying to be a bit coquettish and cute at the same time.

  “You want to know what you can do for me so we don’t break up?”

  “Right. The one exception being me not being Riordan’s slave.”

  Jordan nodded and looked away from her. If they were outside he would have stared into the distance. If they were in a different room, he would have looked out the window for some sort of inspiration. Instead he had to stare at the wall and study the cheap art print that Rhette had framed and hung. It was nice. It only struck him right then that the flowers were definitely vaginal in appearance. He couldn’t decide if it was lewd or sexy.

  “I want to wear a cock cage like Nick,” he said and tried not to sound like he was too eager.

  “I’m certain I can arrange for that,” Rhette said quickly without judgment in her voice. It was easy for her to sound that way. She wasn’t judging him.

  “I want you to hold the key to it.”

  “No,” she said immediately.

  “What? Why not?”

  She smiled. “Because if you asked me to unlock you, I would.”

  He nodded and looked back at the print of flowers. “Who then?”

  “Sylvia,” she said immediately. “She has a cruel streak and will be more than happy to inflict torment on you.” Rhette declined to add that she rather liked the torment that Sylvia could inflict.

  Rhette stood bent over in the exact same spot where Sylvia had abused her. Her hands were on the same couch, and she was similarly vulnerable. Her panties were halfway down her thighs and her skirt was hiked up to her waist, leaving her ass exposed.

  Riordan gave her one last wallop to her ass which caused Rhette to let out a stifled gasp of pain.

  “Did you like that?” Riordan asked.