Morning torment and frustration signifies a strenuous evening, a distracted workday, whispered threats and promises. The cane over strap over heavy paddle before she is filled and fulfilled to overflowing. She tells herself, I need this, only this.
Two more weekly sessions, then their trip. Eight nights at the hotel, each night guests; six couples, two men; scenes, sometimes - schoolgirl, military, dancing slave-girl - costumed and sassy or nude, bound and groveling. Poolside, or drinks, or dinner; always different, always best behavior, never good enough. Bared, bent and spanked, inadequate apologies, irrefutable logic, begging devolves to whimpers. One woman merely watches, two participate; the first has hands of velvet, the other scolds with insight and precision. Questioned she can say nothing right, the harsh, perceptive rebukes stinging worse than the cruelest whip.
He departs with three; one worries her. Amanda. Not pretty but artlessly sexy, soft curves with fluid movement, a hesitant hint of shy invitation. His attraction is unmistakable. But nightly he returns to find her in the corner; she is punished for her excitement and ravished with unfeigned ardor.
The season, economy, and administration change and his mood with it. He wants her hair shorter, clothes simple, make-up scrubbed. Intense becomes harsh, his lovemaking hostile. She retreats, rebuffs, refuses; he openly masturbates. The door is open but she wants restoration, not freedom; a return to how things were. He offers, listens, promises moderation; afterward making her beg to please him despite his obvious desire.
He suggests switching. Timid at first, she warms to her task, soon acting out her own fantasies through the looking-glass. He is thrashed for a trifle, set kneeling in the corner for sneaking a sweet. And hard, always hard and ready at the sound of her voice or the touch of her nails.
The loss of his job warps their arrangement. She rouses him from bed each morning, dragging him back at night; it becomes a second job for her. She is glad when this period ends, once again waking to unspoken demands, not meek requests.
The year passes, again finding them airborne but with a demand of her own. Amanda's bold curves tremble with meek invitation and mute appeal as she stands, kneels, crawls for her; she scolds the poor girl to tears, spanks her nearly to climax, orders her to finish, punishes her wantonness. He will discipline her even more severely for the state he finds her in. Presumably done, Amanda's tender red-mottled flesh begs for clearer marking; pointed comments and mock reluctance have the girl pleading to be gagged and caned, viciously.
It is only Tuesday - she could do this twice more. She issues restrictions; wine, chocolates, and climaxes from her hand only. The girl is examined, invaded, humiliated; taunted with her body's own reactions, her needs and desire, her reluctance, resistance, protests and pleas; all the while her softly-yielding flesh shudders with climax after rolling, crashing climax.
As Amanda's tear-soaked cheeks wet her thighs she thinks, I need this. Only this.
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