by Linn Young
Canton came back to the tiled entrance, where Riley was still standing, looking around, trying to take in everything.
The butler indicated to a chrome panel that had a series of buttons on the wall next to the elevator door. “Here are the switches for the lights, music, the curtains, and the room temperature. This slider is the dimmer.” Canton demonstrated and the lights dimmed so that the bedroom did not look so vast and imposing. “This is for the music.” He pushed another switch and piano concerto rippled softly in the background. “And this switch is for the curtains.” On one end of each of the two ceiling to floor windowed walls, soft white-colored curtains in film silk began to slide across the evening view. “If you need anything, Ms. Calderon, please pick up the phone and dial nine. Also, around the room Mr. Wait’s private quarters are switch panels, as well.”
Canton gave his small bow and stepped into the elevator.
Riley hesitated for a moment, not sure that she wanted to go any further into Heron’s master bedroom, feeling that if she did, she was committed to more than the evening. But, not one to back out once she agreed to something, she slowly climbed the few steps into the room. She took off her coat and threw it on the bed, and looked around the room. The biggest statement that Heron’s private quarters made was its size, which was twice as large as Riley’s own house. Otherwise, the décor was quite understated, with furniture that was simple and spare in design, utilitarian, and in colors that were in soft cream with a touch of muted earth tones. The bed was a California King that sat on a box of light taupe lacquer with a matching back panel and white fitted coverlet. Beyond the bed against the windowed wall was a small sitting area with a creamcolored three-sided settee, a few ottomans in various browns, taupes, and creams, and two armchairs. Around the room, there were very few adornments of art or sculpture. Against a wall opposite of the bed was a series of large professional photo portraits of each member of his family, the poses and coloring of the photos indicating that they were done by one studio, including his nephew and niece. They hung next to one another in a straight line, each spaced exactly the same distance from one another. Surprisingly, if there was any object on a countertop it was a small pile of books and magazines, a few of them turned to a page.
After taking in the room, Riley had no idea what she should do, then decided she might as well start with the champagne. She poured some in a Baccarat flute and sipped at it generously at first, then guzzled down the remaining half. She refilled the flute and walked to the sitting area, carrying the bottle, settled into the settee to watch the night lights below her, sipping the champagne. As she did, she wondered how long she was willing to wait for Heron.
Normally, she had a personal policy of waiting for the man on a date for no more than fifteen minutes. But, in her sense of fairness, that didn’t seem to apply to a man who had sent his limousine to bring her sixty miles to his penthouse, or had left at her disposal all the accoutrements of his luxurious abode. Plus, and this might have been a deliberately a sly move on Heron’s part, Riley, not used to being served hand and foot, did not have the aplomb to ring Canton for Dustin to drive her back up to Santa Rosa.
Deciding that she was beginning to feel put out that she was forced to wait for Heron when it had been she who had called him in good faith after weeks of putting him off, Riley picked up the phone and dialed nine.
Immediately Canton came on the line. “Yes, Ms. Calderon. How may I be of service?” “Have you heard from Heron?”
“Not since he called before your arrival. Do wish that I call him?”
“Yes, please do that.”
Five minutes later, Canton rang. “Mr. Wait said that he apologizes but he will be delayed at least another half hour. Is there anything I can get for you, Ms. Calderon?”
“No. No, I’m fine up here.”
However, Riley found herself still waiting for Heron to come home as the time approached ten o’clock. She still couldn’t quite get up the nerve to call Canton to have Dustin drive her home up. So, she seethed while sitting in the small entertainment area that was located the bed wall, downing most of the expensive champagne, mostly flipping channels, too upset to maintain any interest in shows or movies. She didn’t bother to ask Canton again to call Heron. That would have been useless, since the butler could only relay what she already knew, that Heron was not yet home and that he was not home yet because was being delayed at work.
When she looked up for the hundredth time, and this particular hundredth time was nearing midnight, she decided she had enough, and propriety be damned. Happy for the first the time that evening with a decision she made, she flicked the television off, and grabbed her coat. As she headed for the elevator, the double doors opened, and Heron walked through them.
Riley felt what had been irritation surge to incensed anger, egged on by nearly a full bottle of champagne. “Well, so, you’ve finally decided to come home and attend to your guest, have you?” she said bitchily.
Heron gave her a bland look, his face expressionless as his fingers began to undo his tie. Tiredness etched heavy lines under his eyes and around his mouth, and his eyelids were half mast because he had to struggle to keep them open. Slowly, the dark eyes took their time perusing over Riley, making a long and deliberate show of covering every inch of her large, thrusting breasts barely contained by the white shirt and bra underneath.
“I’m sorry I’m late. Something came up at the last minute.” He sounded polite but not particularly concerned. “But, I’m here now.”
Riley tossed her head back. “Well, isn’t that just grand.”
But for all the anger that she felt towards Heron for making her wait for several hours for him to come home, she could feel her body begin to heat up, as if in anticipation of an erotic carnage. Heron’s eyes narrowed slightly as they detected the slight tightening of her body. Riley lifted her chin in open defiance.
Heron walked past her and went to the kitchenette and began to pour himself a drink.
“I’m leaving, Heron.”
He tossed his drink back in one gulp, his eyes never leaving Riley. Then he poured himself another. “It was an emergency. I’m sorry, but I had little choice but to stay and clean things up. I’m here, now. We can still enjoy the evening.”
Riley gave a cool little smile that had Heron narrowing his eyes again. “It’s too late. I’ve spent all the good time I had inside me on waiting for you. Now, I’m tired, and I want to go home and go to bed.”
Heron tossed back another drink. “I don’t think it would be a good idea if you left right now, Riley.”
“Hmm. Now, why’s that?”
“I want to be with you. I looked forward to being with you since you called me. It would be a shame to let what little time we have slip through our fingers just because of a few hours of waiting.”
“Ah, no, Heron. If you think you can intimidate me into staying by throwing your weight around, then think again. I wait for no one. Especially a man.”
Riley folded her coat over her arm, grabbed the purse that she had thrown on the bed, and stalked to the elevator. In her rush, she dropped the purse on the rug. She stopped, and as she stood over the purse, she turned her head to look back at Heron. Then, slowly, her back to Heron, she bent from the waist down, her legs straight and taught in her spiked heels. When her fingers touched the rug, her buttocks were raised high up in the air pointed straight at Heron.
Heron halted his hand that held his third drink midway when he caught sight of the raised high quarters of this very voluptuous woman. He stared at her lifted buttocks for a moment, his eyes transfixed, his striking face suddenly hard and hungry. Then he gave a small cold little grin and drank down his drink.
Riley grabbed her purse and stood up, flipped her hair, and looked back at him and gave him a little smirk before reaching for the elevator.
“Come back here, now!”
She stopped, so shocked was she at the sharp command. She turned back, tossed her head again. “D
id you just order me as if I were a dog?”
Heron took his time walking to her. “You’re not going anywhere, tonight, Riley.”
She raised a dark eyebrow. “If you think you can push me around, after what you made me go through in the last few hours, you have another thing coming.”
Heron slowly came towards her, and seeing the menace behind the small smile that curved his lips, Riley took a step back. Then she stopped, not wanting to be cowardly. She felt very strongly that she was in the right, and there was no reason for her to back down.
“I don’t think you’ve ever been properly disciplined, have you, Riley,” he said, almost gently. “Your father was probably far too easy going to rein in a daughter like you, and has never taken a firm hand to you when you display such obdurate behavior as you are doing now. It’s time that oversight be remedied.”
This time when Riley took a step back she did not chide herself, and continued to inch her way to the elevator, her hand feeling for the buttons behind her. “Wha…What are you going to do?”
Heron reciprocated her every step, taking a step forward for every one she took back, his dark eyes blazing with hard, uncompromising desire. “I’m going to give you that spanking that I’ve wanted to give the very first time I saw you, one that is long overdue.”
Riley felt her hands pressed against the elevator door. She spun around and frantically pressed the buttons on the panel. The double doors immediately opened. But it was futile, and she knew it long before she had reached the doors. Before Riley could step through them, she was grabbed by one long, powerfully muscled arm and lifted off her feet. She instantly set up a struggle, wriggling violently in the crushing embrace, twisting so that she could batter Heron wherever she could with her fists. He merely took care of that by trapping her wrists in one hand as he carried her to the bed.
As she was heaved unceremoniously to her punishment, there was a roaring in Riley’s head, born of excitement and apprehension. It was true she felt a little terrified of the impending punishment that Heron was determined to mete out on her. No man had ever laid a hand on her. For all of her running a private sex club and her open attitude towards sex, she had never partaken in any of the role plays, including bondage, that occurred often in the upstairs rooms above her bar. Of course, she had been invited a few times, but little interest in that particular proclivity had her decline. She had thought all this time that it went against her strong spirit to let any man strike her, even for sex. But, now, she couldn’t deny that her heavy breathing wasn’t only due to her exertion for escape, or that she found only terror in her struggle to escape Heron’s powerful arms. Perversely, there was erotic excitement in having a man carting off a woman to have his way with her once he had shown her who was master, and in putting up a struggle to deny his intention
However, it was also her natural inclination to automatically fight against any attack that had Riley launching a superhuman battle in Heron’s arms. With her hands bound by his, she resorted to try and take bites out of him. When she was able to sink her teeth into his arms, he only grunted. At the bed, he sat down and shifted her so that her stomach was on his lap.
“Let me go, you beast,” she yelled at him, trying to pummel him wherever she could with her freed hands.
Heron trapped her failing legs between his, anchored her torso on his lap with an arm like a steel band across the small of her back. He pushed the tight black skirt over her buttocks, exposing her creamy naked buttocks to him. The black silk cord around her waist and that rose out of her cheeks indicated that she was wearing a sexy little g-string. With an easy tug, he ruthlessly tore the g-string from her and tossed them on the floor.
Feeling herself fully exposed to him, Riley only increased her struggles, now desperate to get away, feeling herself becoming moist and tense. He would find her out soon. But he already knew.
Heron molded her protruding cheek with one hand and began to fondle the opulent curves, as if acquainting himself with her flesh in preparation for the punishment. Riley shuddered and couldn’t help but wriggle her buttocks at him, feeling the harsh chastisement that he intended to give her in that large, male hand.
“You’re a very naughty girl, Riley, being so belligerent and childish, tonight.” Heron’s voice was low and harsh as his hand continued to smooth over her cheeks, squeezing them, relishing the strikes that he would soon inflict on them. “You always were, from the first moment I met you. I wanted to spank you then, and often after that, each time we saw each other. But I let it pass, because I thought it wasn’t my place, back then, to provide discipline to you. I had thought that that would be some other man’s prerogative. But things changed, didn’t they, Little Pussy? I was free and you made a point of teasing me to no end with your petulant little tail, and I took you to bed and you became mine. Now, are you going to begin to be a good little girl for me, tonight, Little Pussy?”
“I’m not your little girl, you bastard,” Riley panted. She made another effort to free herself, although it was a weak one because her strength had been nearly spent from her struggles, to escape. “I hate you!”
Heron clicked his tongue. “Mmmm, I’m sorry to hear that, kitten. What else can I call you but a little girl when you insist on acting like a child, mmmm? I’m sorry, darling, that I have to do this to your lovely little bottom, but you asked for it.” He raised his hand and spanked the naked buttocks hard, the sound of the punishment cracking harshly in the sprawling master bedroom.
It was the most painful thing Riley had ever experienced. She shrieked at the intense agony, and wriggled her buttocks up at her punisher, her fists pummeling at the bed, because she couldn’t reach him. Heron lifted his hand and struck her again, causing another shriek from his stubbornly recalcitrant captive and a frantic wriggle of her bottom.
“Stop it! That hurts!” She tried to block his next blow by covering her naked cheeks with her hand. “You beast, how dare you!”
Heron struck her again with his open hand. Riley set up a howl and continued to scream at the top of her lungs when he spanked her again and again. The pain that she had never experienced before only increased with each strike, his palm coming down hard on her flaming cheeks, increasing the pain and making her skin feel as if it were being set on fire.
Heron paused in his spanking. He stroked back her hair from her face. “Are you going to promise to start behaving, Little Pussy?”
Riley, incensed at his deceptively concerned question, turned her head and made a snap for his hand with her teeth. Heron just in time withdrew his hand.
“Go to fucking hell,” she spat out, earning her another swat.
Heron’s hand began to stroke again the rounded cheeks that were glowing red, almost with affection, while Riley lay faced down on his lap, panting, whimpering. Then his fingers began to descend below her buttocks, between her thighs, a digit beginning to spread the heavy folds of her labia. Riley stiffened, shocked, that after treating her with such abominable cruelty that he would have the nerve to touch her so intimately.
“Don’t touch my pussy, you brute,” she ordered, although her voice was piteously hoarse with desperation.
She groaned when her body gave a shudder as his fingers delved deeper into her creases, her flesh slick with heated moisture. “St…St…Stop…Stop that,” she whimpered, the tightening in her loins making her stutter. She gave a wriggled of her buttocks in a helpless gesture when she felt his finger press against her clitoris, eliciting a soft chuckle from Heron.
Riley moaned loudly when she felt him insert inside her vagina one long finger. “Ooooh, my pussy.”
Heron held his finger inside her while he smoothed his other hand over her inflamed buttocks. In an automatic response that was so familiar by now to both of them, her buttocks clenched against the invasive finger, her inner walls clenching tightly on it, then, whimpering again because she could not find any assuagement from the rising sexual need, she wriggled her bottom again, earning her an affectionate
squeeze of her sore cheeks, which made her gasp at the pain.
Heron posed his question in calm but dictatorial voice. “Now, Little Pussy, I will ask you one more time, are you willing to behave for rest of the evening, and not give me anymore trouble?” When Riley did not answer, he said with more threat, “Answer me, Riley, if you want to stop this punishment.”
Riley turned her head and peered up at Heron out of the corner of her eye, her face mutinous, her full lips sulky and rebellious. Heron bent his head to capture them, but before he could, she tossed her head away. He growled his displeasure. But the stinging blows did not restart as Riley had feared that they would.
Instead, Heron continued her punishment internally, his finger deep inside her flesh began to massage her inner walls, setting off sensitive nerve endings, exploring and seeking for that bundle of nerves that he knew he could manipulate and torture. Riley lifted her head, her face suddenly suffused with heat as with the rest of her body, arching her back, her eyes closed, her teeth clenched, her hips writhing as she felt the nebulous erotic sensation through the thick walls of her uterus. With his other hand, he continued to rub soothingly over her burning cheeks.
“Riley, darling, I don’t want to continue hurting you, so you must start behaving. Do you think you can do that, mmmm, Pussy?”
She writhed again on his lap when she felt his finger rubbing against her uterine wall, causing that gnawing but elusive ache inside her, making her clench her glove tightly around his finger. A long “Oooooh” was all she could manage between her panting.
“I want to hear you tell me that you will behave from now on, Little Pussy,” Heron coaxed.
“Oh, god, my pussy,” she groaned as he dragged his finger against her flesh as he withdrew it halfway out of her. She bit her lip and shook her head frantically.
