The Assistant (7)

by reader request! The journey begins here with the first 6 chapters.

pain slut.

submissive.

She shook her head.

“No?” His voice broke into her musing, confuddled thoughts.

“ah..not You…I…” her voice fell away. There weren’t words to explain how she felt…and she an “Ace Reporter”. Ha! She’d need a thesaurus and about a month to write this story.

“This sounds like one of those “it’s not you, it’s me,” kind of statements. Yet, I can see that you are …shocked, perhaps, at what your body is telling you. Sometimes it tells us things about ourselves that we aren’t fully ready to accept yet.”

He paused, stroked a finger across her cheek.

“You responded to pain. You responded to being dominated. I imagine that you spend a great deal of time managing yourself quite well…and now you are struggling with the idea of coming in here and letting me “boss you around”….and becoming very aroused in the process.”

That he waggled his fingers in air quotes at that last bit, with that sexy smile was another of those conundrums. She loathed when people did the air quote thing. It was just stupid. Yet on him? It was simply a means to making his point.

“But I’m not a submissive. And…dammit, when I stub my toe on the couch it doesn’t turn me on.”

“Is your couch commanding the incident, the scene?” His voice was rich with unfettered humor.

“Of course not,” she snapped, relieved to have found a bit of backbone, some of her spice, once more.

“Does your couch then tease your pussy, making you rub up against it in bondage?”

“For gosh sake,” she began, feeling huffy. Then caught a spark of the humor in his line of questions. Picturing her big butt humping her grandmothers couch almost made her giggle.

“It is the control that is affecting you. Judicious use of pain, the power resting in my hands, dominating you, as you willingly submit to me~that’s where the excitement lives. You understand…or understood during the scene, that I would let no lasting harm befall you. Hurt you? Of a certainty. So there is a foundation of safe feelings for the submissive…and you are a very submissive woman, little one, with lovely tits, in both the control and pain that is about to ensue.”

She blushed.

She hadn’t blushed since grade school, likely. Yet his almost offhand comment about her tits had thrown her off guard. Again. Gone was the feeling of satiety from that long-needed orgasm. In its place was a new throbbing. Just from his speaking.

It was his voice, most likely. Deep, sexy, confident. She’d always been drawn to confident men. It had nothing to do with what it was he was saying. She was not a submissive.

Not.

The lie of that statement rolled around in her head. She was here, dammit, to do a story on the D/s scene. She was not here on  some long-denied journey to submission. This was not Eat, Fuck, Beat. She shook her head again, scowling up at him.

He smiled that sensual half-grin that turned her inside out. Three and a half fucking hours she’d been here. And had committed the entire day. What the hell had she been thinking?

His hand moved so fast she never saw it. Grabbing a hunk of her tresses, he all but lifted her by that handle, and tugged her wordlessly across the room to the spanking bench she’d seen earlier. Flopping her top half over it, he made short work of attaching her wrists to the short …well it looked like a leash. The other end was locked securely to a ring in the floor.

His feet disappeared from view, but moments later she felt his hands around her ankles, felt cold metal tightening around her, the sharp snick  as a lock slid home. She hadn’t spoken a word.

Not in protest.

Not in agreement.

It seemed her original statement upon coming here, her naive and innocent “I want to try it all” was being tested.

And then she felt the unmistakable heat of him behind her, pressing against her upwards facing bottom and the backs of her thighs. His hands slid under her, and in moments, she felt her pants being slid down.

And her panties with them.

They moved down over her hips.

They slithered down her legs, laying in an accordian-pile around each tethered foot.

Her ample ass was on view. His hands stroked over it, tracking along a few of the lines that were left from the earlier beating.  His voice broke the tense silence growing between them.

“These were starters.”

She wanted to ask what he meant by that. A good reporter always asked questions when she didn’t understand.

She thought she understood.

She wanted to swallow the sudden wad of spit that filled her mouth but being upside down was not conducive to doing that easily. When the first whack from the paddle hit her rounded bottom, she yelped, and the spit fell from her mouth with an audible splat onto the floor. Some of her hair dragged through it, both grossing her out, and fascinating her.

It was disturbing, in some far-off corner of her mind, that this stranger was touching her ass. Was SPANKING her ass, she though, as he nailed her again, drawing another yelp from her.

It was far more disturbing to feel the seeping wetness slipping from between her legs, and sliding down her inner thigh. She understood. Those starter whacks had been some kind of warm-up. The paddle, some thick piece of wood, made a solid “thwack” sound with every impression against her flesh.

That he hit the same fucking spot over and over again added yet a new layer to the pain appetizer he was feeding her.

“Ouch!”

“Oh!”

“FUCK!” She yelped.

“Most Dom’s require their subs to count, and thank their Master’s for each dose of pain. Let’s give that a try, shall we?”

“But I don’t remember how many you’ve given me!” she all but wailed.

“Oh, that’s okay, little one. We can start counting now.”

That he was smiling was more than obvious by the genial tone.

WHACK!

“Ouch!”

“No, one, that was one. Start again, little one.”

WHACK!

“Ow-ONE!” she burst out, panting.

“Good girl,” he praised her. “Now you must add your thanks to me, for gifting you with this pain. Let’s try that again.”

“We’re starting over again????” she wailed, even as he walloped on her butt again.

“You can do this, slut. See how wet you are already?” His fingers delved into her exposed folds. She’d forgotten he could see and feel her pussy as well as her naked ass. How …she wanted to say humiliating, but the first word that came into her head was not that one.

It was “erotic”.