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Girls Just Want To Have Fun - Day 2 Ch 13
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Thursday - Chapter 13
©Virginia Alison, ©Keith David, ©Tiffany St David, ©Lucy Dee Blake

Hoping this whole thing is finally over, she climbs off me, the blindfold slips and once my eyes adjust, I see a drop of our combined juices fall on my pants.

‘Shit’ I think, ‘that will be tough to explain!’

Just when I thought we were done and it was over I reach up to pull off the blindfold, but she stops me and tightens it instead.

“I’m not finished with you yet, we are going on a little trip.”

“What? I cannot go anywhere. I am at work remembering this has to stop! What are you talking about a little trip?”

“You’re wasting your time laddie; it’s time to kick your butt into shape.” 

Slipping into my shoes and grabbing my bag and photos I take a pair of cuffs and attaching one to his wrist and one to mine, slip the key from the drawer into my bra and lead him out through the side door into the awaiting taxi. Slamming the car door shut, I giggle and as I signal to Freddie, he sticks his thumb up. Marvin, bless him, will get rid of the evidence for me and I breathe a sigh of relief that he kept his end of the bargain. Freddie will have dropped Tiffany home on his way here, so I sit back relaxed in the thought that this will be fun; Tom is going to sleep well tonight.

Drawing up outside Lucy’s, having quelled Tom’s protests with a few well-chosen words, I lead him up to the door and ring the bell. My insatiable, wide-eyed and bushy tailed Lu is bouncing as she looks at me then at Tom and her mouth drops. I put my finger on her lips to silence her and take Tom into the house. Leading him into the lounge I push him back onto the chair, undo the cuff on my wrist and snick it round the wooden arm rest, he sighs resigning himself to his fate as I turn to Lucy and start whispering in her ear.

“Time for a little fun, baby - we have one hour before I send him home, let’s teach him a few lessons, silently.  He is not to know where he is or who you are,” and I give her a wicked grin as realisation dawns and she grins back. Tiffany has been given strict instructions by now, dominance being the key word, and Tom will be so pliable by the time he arrives home it will make the opening gambit of their new life a pleasurable experience.

I cannot believe what I am hearing. My sexual frustration satisfied and I am just getting pissed. I begin to plot my escape from this unbelievably sexy, powerful, but clearly crazy lady, whose name I still do not know. However, as I feel the cuff click around my wrist, unceremoniously, thwarting my plans, she escorts me out the side door and into a waiting car.

I continue protesting this treatment, but she silently grabs my cock and balls through my pants, and gives a little squeeze reminding me who is in charge. We ride through town quietly and a million thoughts go through my mind from escape to what will I tell Tiffany if I ever see her again.

When the car finally stops I want badly to reach up and remove the blindfold, but I know that would cost me dearly. She leads me into a house and handcuffs me to a chair to await my fate. To make matters worse, I sense the presence of someone else in the room. I hear her snickering and giggling with someone, I think it is another female, but I pray to God that it is is not that Alan freak from the other night, who took the pictures. God anyone but him, please!

“Lessons,” I think to myself. “She said teach him some lessons.” The gears in my head begin to churn and as I seize upon a gloriously wicked idea, a malicious grin spreads across my face. I know what kind of lessons he needs. Tom needs riding lessons.

“If you know what’s good for you, you won’t move until I say you can,” I snarl menacingly, lowering my tone and giving it a rasp to try to make my voice unrecognizable. Then I make a dash for my photo-shoot backdrop.

Once there, I grab a small length of rope that hangs over a chair, twisting it into a quick lasso, and gather up a riding crop that I had borrowed along with a helmet specifically for a session I had planned with some members of a local riding school. They had served as instant inspiration.

Returning to Tom, I toss the loop of rope loosely around his neck. Rosie recognizes my intent and unlocks the cuff attached to the chair. Then, with little warning, I yank him to his feet, the lasso tightening across his throat and half choking him. He gags, and claws at the rope with his fingers. This is not the norm for me, possessed by my anger.

“So --- I hear you like it rough,” I declare with a sultry growl. “Let’s see if you can take as good as you give. Time for your riding lessons.”

“ Riding lessons?” he gasps hoarsely, still trying to loosen the lasso.

“You heard right – I’m going to teach you how to be a respectful rider, instead of a selfish jerk.” I give him a sharp tug on the rope, and as he stumbles forward in response, I add to that momentum with a firm shove on his ass with my foot. He falls forward onto his stomach on the bed.

When the giggling and whispers end I begin to get worried. There is a rustling commotion for a few minutes like someone is running around the house and I am told,

“If you know what’s good for you, you won’t move until I say you can.”

The voice seems slightly familiar though. It is definitely not Tiffany, but it sounds like someone is trying to disguise themselves on purpose. I cannot quite place it. I curse the brain cells destroyed with my partying as I search my brain to put a face with the voice, but it does not happen.

As I try to lift my head to peek out from under the blindfold I feel something placed around my neck and then things start to happen fast. The handcuff comes off the chair and someone yanks me into a standing position by a noose! Gagging I try to grab the rope and my finger nails bite into my neck and the cuff still attached to one wrist swings wildly hitting my jaw with a decided ‘thud’.

“Arrrkkk,” I choke, “What the fuck?”

Despite protests, the woman drags me through the house with the explanation of needing ‘riding lessons’. What the fuck is she talking about? Forced face down on her bed, she rips my clothes from my body with no caring or tenderness. This is pure dominance mixed with humiliation and pain. It is far from what I am used to and I am ashamed at myself knowing my cock is rock hard, pressed against the sheets.

“Just some minor preparations to begin with,” I hiss.

With one knee between his legs, uncomfortably close to his groin, I reach underneath him and undo his pants. Then I pull them off him, without any attempt at being gentle. I feel him tense. He is not used to being totally at the whim of another.

“Now,” I say as I lean forward, whispering into his ear, my breath hot on the slightly raw skin of his neck. “The tables will be turned. Instead of being the rider, it is your turn to be ridden. You have never been a considerate rider. You have made all the demands, satisfied only your urges, and yielded no compromises. It is time for you to have a taste of your own medicine. Maybe by the time I’m done, you’ll see the error of your ways.”

I can feel my nipples hard against the inside of my cotton tank top. I am finding this much more arousing than I should have. I would have to do penance later with some bad movies and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, drowning out my guilt.

“What are you going to do...?”

I do not let him finish. As soon as he starts speaking, I bring the riding crop down hard upon his bare ass cheek. As it blazes a hot pink, he yelps and squirms.

“I’m a cruel rider, just like you. You are the mount this time. You don’t get to know what I’m going to do unless I want you to,” I laugh derisively.

I slide out of my panties, intending to ride him “bare-back.” Then I shift over top of him, clenching the rope in my fist, one leg on either side. I begin to rock atop him, grinding my crotch into him and twisting the rope, just enough to cause him some discomfort.

I wish his back were not so deliciously muscular. Feeling his firmness between my legs makes me hunger for him, no matter how much I may despise him. I try to restrain myself, releasing my breath in shallow hisses and pants, but he is making me salivate and my well-massaged clit is throbbing. He groans quietly beneath me. Every sound from him draws a solid “thwack” from my crop across his stinging buttocks. He shudders with each strike. Finally, I can resist no longer.

Climbing off his back I give him enough of a shove and a tug from the rope to suggest I want him to turn over. He does so hesitantly, but tracing his ass cheeks one more time with the crop, yields faster results. His cock is rock hard and I cannot help but admire it. I run my tongue up along one side of its veined surface and the riding crop along the other. I see his fingers clench and watch him hold his breath, but this time, not even a peep escapes him. He is learning. I hover over him and slowly ease myself down onto his stiff shaft with a blissful sigh.

He bucks a little, his own sense of urgency making him forget himself. He is rewarded with two stinging swipes of the crop to his inner thighs. He twitches and grunts, then lies still. With this concession, wearing a self-satisfied smirk, I ride him at my leisure to my climax.

Fascination sets in as I watch Lu working Tom over good and proper. Not the kind of thing I usually resort to, although I have had my moments, but she did mention that she liked a little S & M when I first met her and I found it difficult to imagine sweet doe eyed Lucy cracking a whip over some bare-arsed guy, or gal as the dominatrix in her reared its head. Tom is looking the worse for wear and I do wonder just how much he will take before he either cracks or worse, loses his temper. However, he does seem to be enjoying the attention as much as it may sting his pride.

I have a little teaser for him before I send him home with his tail between his legs but I will let Lu have her fun for now and my mind drifts sideways, mentally preparing for tomorrow. Tom is working and will have a little surprise waiting for him during his lunch hour.  Stifling a giggle I continue my train of thought. Dinner is booked at Lorenzo’s for seven thirty in the evening, Lucy and I will already be there, in the back room waiting for the delicious moment when the final part of the scenario will begin. This will be one for the books, one which neither Tom nor Tiffany will ever forget. I have a few items to procure during the day, one of which I have had to order specially and I sincerely hope that I have managed to get on time.

My shopping list complete in my mind, I turn my attention back to Lucy ,who, judging by the look on her face has certainly got her kicks out of the stallion that she has taken for a ride.

Whoever she is, she is very strict and somehow seems to know me. Referring to me ‘never being a considerate rider’ has me wondering and the angrier she gets, the less she remembers to disguise her voice. Damn, it is familiar and I start to ask questions, but every time I move or mutter a sound, I get a sharp crack with some sort of whip. The first few hurt like hell, but the pain of each successive strike builds until it is not quite pain anymore exactly. A hard to describe sensation, while painful yes, but mixed with the submission and sexual excitement, it takes on a different meaning and texture, almost impossible to describe.

She mounts my back, pressing her wet sex into my skin and grinding as if I am some type of fuck horse. What is really strange though, is that as my face buries into her sheets, there is a very, very familiar smell. She continues barking commands and insults, correcting me with the whip for each movement or sound. My attention bounces between the increasingly hot, wetness spreading across my lower back, to my stiff rod being ground into the soft sheets by her riding, to the smell that is so familiar in her sheets. Where did I know her from, and how does she know me?

Just as I place the smell in my mind, I feel her slide off me and she pokes me to roll over. Tiffany, the smell is the special perfume I buy from France for Tiffany. How did it take this long to recognize it? It is the one special gift I make sure I have enough money for whenever she runs low, because it is unique and we both love it. I guess it has become so commonplace in my mind I almost did not recognize it.

I lie very still, as whoever this is who has had my wife in their bed climbs on top and slowly lowers herself onto my stiff shaft. My mind reels and I barely concentrate on how amazingly tight and hot her pussy feels as she roughly grinds and gyrates on my cock. The feeling of being used pales to the betrayal and confusion running through my mind. As she becomes lost in the throes of her orgasm, her moans are more and more familiar until suddenly as she screams in release I place her voice. Lucy!

I have my reasons for everything I do. I did really want Lu to keep quiet during her delightful exhibition but it’s understandable how she could not. Taking her years of frustration and anger out on his cock would do her good; however, I can read people’s faces very well and the visible part of Tom’s says it all - he knows who she is. No matter, that is just a minor hitch, nothing that cannot be fixed.

Leaning over the bed, I wait until Lucy opens her eyes.  I give her a kiss and as she gives me a self-satisfied look, I think how edible she is.  Berating myself, I get my mind back on the job.  There is still work to do. Her hair hangs in little blond tendrils over her forehead, her face, flushed, but a little peace seems to have fallen over her and she smiles as I pull away. Gesturing at her, she climbs off Tom’s cock and prods him with her whip to turn back onto his stomach. I congratulate myself on having the forethought, however selfish, of allowing him to cum earlier; it’s possible it wouldn’t have lasted long enough for Lucy to get her rocks off if he’d not had some release. Considering the size of his erection, he seems quite composed; however, a few expletives escape his clenched teeth when I snick cuffs attached to the bed head round his wrists. Another set, with long chains, Lucy clamps around his ankles, and I bend down to whisper in his ear,

“Kneel boy, now your ass is mine,” and I turn to rummage around in Lucy’s little drawer of secrets. Knowing her tastes, I am positive she will have what I want, and sure enough moments later I stand up brandishing my toy of choice for just such a special occasion. Black, long, with a nice gentle bend in it, not too wide in the girth, with a little switch at the bottom - I just hoped the batteries were working.