The Job (4)

She saw a lot of weird shit in her job at Nettles. She’d cleaned her share of bathrooms, but the standing order to leave the last, large stall dirty still ooked her out. She’d peer in there, see and smell the urine on the floor, the seat, and shudder when she saw the D-ring embedded in the wall, a long length of chain snaking from it. Seriously, the thought of all that pee…

How that could make anyone horny was beyond her, but as Jakob often said, different strokes for different folks.

It was quiet, early morning, and she smelled of pine cleaner. The sun shone through the tall loft windows, the floor gleamed, the place sparkled. It much belied the thought of “dungeon” she mused. The boss had requested for her to come in early, as they had a big event here, hours earlier than normal opening time. Since no one else was around, she had cleaned at warp speed, and had just finished her last bathroom. She doubted she’d ever completed the full deal in under 4 hours before. Hot and sweaty as she was, her only thought now was of a long shower and some sweet-scented cleaner that smelled of woman and not toilets.

Pausing in the main room, she caught the gleam of metal on the far wall. It didn’t smell of sex in here now, just clean. Running her hand over the surface of the pommel horse, she remembered her first shock at seeing that sub getting her ass whooped while being tied over it. Moving past it, she gingerly slipped her fingers down one long fall of the heavy whip. There was a huge variety in the assorted falls that hung down. Some were leather, some thick, perhaps vinyl or rubber? Some were soft ropes. She wondered briefly about what they might feel like.

And her mind shied away from that thought. Best to not ever entertain that notion. She was the cleaning lady, not a submissive.

“It’s interesting, isn’t it?”

She spun quickly at her bosses deep voice behind her.

“So many textures, so many different feelings from something as simple as the material the fall is made from. This one…”

He leaned past her and took up the one with long strands of loose rope, and let it slip up her forearm.

“…is a tickler. You might not think of tickling as a sensory exploration, but it is. Yet if the wrist is flexible, and the hand wielding it knowledgeable, even this toy can cause some discomfort. Not even close to that of the single-tail bullwhip, of course, or the cat, with its nine falls. But again, it’s all in the user’s skill where the experience lies.”

“It’s…”

“It’s still weird to you. Here, let’s try something…no no, not naked!”

He let out a laugh at her expression.

“Lean your arms on the horse as if you were taking a nap on your tummy, cradle your head and stick out your butt. No, don’t play shy — I’ve seen your ass walking all over the place, believe me. This is one place where your body is going to be oogled, as I told you when you took the job.”

She could have protested. He would have let her. Maybe it was the euphoria of finishing early, or the inhalation of too many chemicals, but she just did it. She did swallow hard when he gently kicked her ankles apart, but she did as he bid.

There was the faintest swoosh and a gentle rattling tap against the denim which covered her legs. It landed on her outer thigh.

“No pain, right?”

“No…”

“Okay, so I’m going to ratchet it up a bit. Remember to breathe…holding your breath makes it sting more.”

It happened faster this time, a bit louder. There was a definite sting on her thigh this time, and he didn’t stop with just one blow, either. Three steady, firm swats on thigh and bum and when he stopped, she felt something. It stung, but it quickly moved from that stingy pain to a flash of heat.

“Oh…”

“Tell me what you’re feeling, Mandy.”

“I…well…it was stinging…like…being hit with a toothbrush…a kind of prickling on my skin. But now…it’s hot. It doesn’t burn, but it feels warm there.”

“So–a moment of pain, and a moment of heat.”

“Yes.”

“That’s the fundamental, then. As we progress in speed, in strength of the slaps on your body, in the type of toy we use, so too do we change the feelings you experience. And they begin to blend…to harmonize like singers in a choir..all different voices, but bringing an incredibly wonderful feeling. Let’s try this…”

She heard him step away. Again, she could have made him stop, just by pushing away from the horse. Her head stayed cradled in her arms, her nose inhaling the aroma of the leather clad device. She wasn’t sure exactly why she stayed put, why she let her boss of all people do this. But frankly, she had begun to dream of this place, the sounds, the smells, the people. And she trusted him; over this last month or so, he’d begun to be a friend. And she had, at last, begun to be curious about the sensory side of the  things she saw happening here every day.

Without a word he slapped her bottom hard. The sting took her breath away for a minute, before she released a  moaning “heyyyyy”

“Hurts, doesn’t it? Really rough, and I only gave you one smackaroo!”

His hand caressed the exact spot he’d hit.

“I can feel the heat, even through your jeans. Now imagine this on bare skin, or barely covered even. The heat would be wicked, don’t you think? Your breathing has changed. You’re relaxed, deeply into what your body is experiencing.”

He helped her rise, ran a finger down her cheek.

“The private party should be arriving soon. Your bonus check is in your locker, thanks for coming in early for me today.”

She blinked, a bit shocked that the little ‘scene’…if this could be called that…was over so abruptly. Bemused, she walked across the big room, wondering if he was looking at her ass. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed that he was hanging the toys he’d used on her back on the rack. He’d likely put her right out of his mind. Well. She would have felt a bit huffy if she gave a fuck. Which she didn’t.

“Mandy?”

She paused at the door, but didn’t turn to look at him.

“If you’re honest with yourself, you might just discover that you don’t only have a warmed bottom–but a wet pussy, too.”

She took a quick breath, then opened the door and went to get her check and get the fuck out of this nuthouse. The sticky feel of her panties as she jogged downstairs left her frowning as she grabbed her stuff and left.

 

About vanillamom

For over 8 years--(EIGHT?!) nilla and M have been a D/s couple. I'm the "small s" side of that designation, as he often reminds me. I'm silly and prone to giggling at inopportune times. He's a wicked Sadist, who feeds me my drug of choice--pain. My brain is always spinning dirty and dark little fantasies, which I sometimes share with the world. Welcome to the nilla-verse. It's wet and slippery here...with a dragon or two lurking.
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10 Responses to The Job (4)

  1. michelle says:

    Knew it. 😉 And can’t those D types be sneaky! Glad i checked here late this evening.

  2. Anonymous says:

    Cannot wait for no 5

  3. Ahh yes, Mandy’s awakening.

    • vanillamom says:

      It’s a slow process sometimes…took me 50 years…. 😀

      nilla

      • As it did me, I kept denying my nature but in the end it won out. Better late then never

      • vanillamom says:

        ABSOLUTELY! Gosh, to go back to that half-alive feeling, that dullness of spirit from not understanding what it is that feeds us? That DNA -primal human that some of us still connect with–if you open yourself too it? Going back to the old bland ways feels like a sin. (and that’s not a word a pagan uses a lot) nilla

  4. Pingback: The Job (5) | Vanillamom's Blog

  5. Wordwytch says:

    Oh, very well played!

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