Best S&M, Volume 3 (14 page)

“Come,” he said, and my body began to writhe, trying to leap up off the bed, against gravity, against the bonds, trying to press myself against him. My eyes rolled up into my head and my sense of what was up and what was down faded.

“Come,” he said, as ripples and waves of shock and heat and other things ran up and down my skin and through my belly.

“Come,” he said, as our breastbones came together like they were magnetized, as his lips followed and I lost myself in the smothering sensation of his mouth on mine.

And of course, in all this, he had plunged himself deep and was somehow keeping himself to long slow strokes, despite my frenzy. When my spasms subsided and I could open my eyes and take deep breaths again, he was pulling himself within an inch of out, and then rocking forward, up my body, running the whole length of him into me until he was buried, and then starting again. We were both breathing deep and I felt like my insides were moving aside for him to let him go deeper.

“Fu-u-u-u-u-u-ck,” I said then, without thinking, and he began to laugh. That made me laugh, like two actors on a stage who had just made a blooper – the masks fell right off, and all we could do was laugh.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he said when he could. “You crazy little brat.”

That made me absolutely squeal with laughter. I would have kicked my feet except they were tied down. And damn if his blood didn’t quicken when everything tightened up on me like that. The next thing I knew he was tickling me, I was squirming as much as I could, laughing myself hoarse, half-orgasms flitting across me here and there, and then he wasn’t laughing he was bellowing, gripping me by the shoulders as he jammed himself into me, one, two, three, four, five...and then he slumped. I think we both saw stars. And then it was over.

“Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo stick,” I said, as he untied me. “Where the fuck did you come from?”

His chuckle was soft. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“No, no, no, Mister I-have-leather-straps-attached-to-my-bed...”

“Was that your first time?”

“My first time, what, getting banged with a telephone pole? I guess you could say so.” His dick looked big even shriveled inside the condom, which he wrapped in a tissue and tossed out of my sight.

“First time being tied up?” His voice went quiet and he sat on the edge of the bed, one finger trailing my arm.

I’m telling you, it was like a spell he could cast. A spooky Halloween bewitchment. It made my voice quiet too. And truthful. “Yes.”

“Did you like it?” he said, even lower, even quieter, like music descending.

“Yes.” I was trying to get my baby bitch face back on, but it wasn’t coming.

“Do you want to do it again some time?” The quietest of all. I could only nod. He nodded back and lay down next to me. I rolled over and he wrapped around me spoonwise, pulling a blanket up from the floor with his long arm.

I could see then how it was going to go. He was going to ask me if I wanted to spend the night, and I was going to chicken out and say what he wanted me to say, “I’m not worthy,” and then leave. Except he didn’t ask. And I didn’t chicken out. And we exchanged names in the morning.

Monitoring

By

Ralph Greco, Jr.

SMACK.

“Oh Lord!”

“Listen. Listen.”

SMACK, SMACK.

“Anne!”

“There’ll be more. Wait. Wait. There’s always more.”

“Are you a bad girl? Are you?”

“No…please!”

SMACK, SMACK.

“Lord, I can’t believe this.”

“It gets better.”

“Tell me you’re a bad girl. Say, ‘I am a bad girl.’ Say it.”

SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK.

“Ohhhhh, nooooooo.”

“Say it, or it gets worse.”

“Anne, Lord, I can…”

“…shhh, listen, listen.”

“Say it…SMACK”

“AH HA!!! Yes yes, I’m a bad girl. I’m a bad girl. I’m a bad girl!”

By the time Kathy and Anne managed downstairs both women were red-faced, shaking, and dewy between their thighs (though they wouldn’t admit this last bit). Kathy had walked over for their biweekly sandwiches and coffee, woefully unsuspecting of what Anne was going to spring on her this day.

“I can’t believe they don’t wake the baby,” Kathy said as Anne poured them two mugs.

“Well, they don’t have to really be in her room for the monitor to pick them up,” Anne said. “Still, you’re right; they got to be close enough that she’d hear them. That kid must be a deep sleeper.”

“Lord…and how the hell do we hear it over here? I mean you explained it to me bu...”

“…Bill says...” Anne began, passing her best friend the sugar. “…and believe me he had no idea why I asked; can you imagine explaining something kinky like this to my husband!?”

Both women giggled like schoolgirls.

“He said that if you happen to have a monitor that is the same frequency…same brand too, I think, and you’re close enough, you can pick up other people’s baby monitors.”

“Lord.”

“Makes ya think, right?”

“And you’ve never met them?” Kathy said fixing her coffee.

“Just to wave hello when we’re putting the garbage out or something,” Anne said, opening her refrigerator door. When she had popped her head back up and retreated from the big sub-zero, she held a plate of cold cuts and turned back to Kathy to continue: “They live two doors down, Steve and Joanna. Seem like a nice quiet couple, cute baby…who obviously sleeps through anything.”

The women giggled again as Anne sat down.

“To look at them, you’d never guess he was spanking her and she was into it.”

“This has got to be the wildest thing that’s happened on this damn cul-de-sac since Emil Causing had that affair with their cleaning lady,” Kathy said through a cautious sip of her coffee.

“I never heard that story. When was this?”

A half-minute passed as the friends reached around and through each other for cold cuts, mayonnaise jars, and mustard bottles.

“Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!” Anne screamed seconds later, dropping her roll in mid sandwich-making mode.

“HOHOHOLY SHEET!” she added, grinning and sitting back in her wicker-backed chair. “This is Tuesday, right?”

“Yeah…what? What is it?” Kathy asked, grinning herself at her best friend who was obviously caught short with a recent realization. Anne’s creamy complexion was now fully flushed from her cleft chin to her high forehead with whatever had just suddenly jumped into her mind.

“Her mom, Joanna’s mom, takes the baby every Tuesday and Thursday.”

“That explains why the kid doesn’t hear them…or we don’t hear the kid crying through all that spanking,” Kathy said.

She was a bit too hungry though to stop making
her
sandwich.

“Yeah, but, what I mean is…” Anne mused, still bouncy as she settled her little butt back in her chair.

“…well you can definitely forget that a baby monitor is on,” she continued, her blue eyes wide. “I mean we do it all the time with Lindsey and we used to forget with Billy. But what if they…”

“What?” Kathy said, halting the smearing of mustard. “What!?”

“I mean, there are a lot of moms like me home with a kid or two, you’re the local divorcee, they’d know you’re around too.”

“You mean…oh, no, that’s too perverse.”

“Worse than him coming home from work at lunchtime to spank her ass?”

“My sweet Lord, they’re doin’ it on purpose with the monitor on?”

“I guess we’re having lunch on Thursday, huh?” Anne asked and both women took up their rolls again.

Two days later Kathy and Anne were once again in Anne’s airy peach and blue kitchen. It was eleven, still a full hour before Lindsey would be waking from her nap. From what was evident two days ago—and the week before when Anne first caught her neighbors at their kinky activity—Joanna and Steve began the spanking sometime about 11:45, giving Anne (and now, by extension, Kathy) a good forty-five minutes before Lindsey, the baby of
this
house, would start stirring. The women stood in Anne’s kitchen now, their arms draped on the countertop, their faces all but pressed to the hissing baby monitor, stretching their nerves—and their libidos—for what they hoped they’d hear again.

“If this happens again, that’s like two weeks in a row and we’ll know for sure it’s no accident that they le…”

I told you I wanted you to be in position.

Kathy and Anne turned to one another their mouths open.

I…I’m sorry I…

SMACK. SMACK.

Get those jeans down.

“Lord!”

“You said it, girl.”

Good, good. Now over the bed. Assume the position
.

I…

Do not make me wait.

“I can’t listen to this,” Kathy said, spinning away from the baby monitor and stepping to Anne’s patio double doors. “Really, we’re spying.”

“They want us to hear,” Anne said. “They are hoping some other monitor will pick them up. I just know it.”

“Still, it’s like being a peeping tom, I feel…”

NOOOOOOO. NO PLEASE!

“What the hell’s he doing?” Kathy screamed, jumping back to the counter and Anne.

PLEASE!!!

SHATPA. SHATPA.

Please not the belt. Please.

You deserve the belt; you’re getting the belt.

Oh God!

SHATPA.

“Oh.”

“Did you hear that, her last ‘oh God’?! She’s
really
into this,” Anne offered.

“Yeah but a belt?! Anne…”

SHATPA. SHATPA.

AH HA!

Kathy looked down at her crossed arms, trying to still her big chest rising and falling in her quick exhalations as the snapping retort of the belting continued.

“It’s hot, right?” Anne asked as Kathy finally looked up at her. “I mean…”

“…yes.” Kathy gulped, leaning back off the counter as four more belt swats landed with what she could only assume was a sharp sting. “But, really, Anne, it’s too much.”

She could just imagine Joanna’s ass, the ass of a woman she had never even seen, reddening with little rectangles. Was the woman bent far over the bed? Were her legs tight together or did Steve want Joanna to have her legs open slightly, so he could spy her sex from behind? Was the woman pushing her pelvis deep into the bed with every swat? Was Joanna naked? Did she arch her back, throw her hair lightly down her shoulder blades when she took a hit? (Anne had said Joanna had long brown hair, hadn’t she?) Did the woman dare look over her shoulder, watching in dreaded anticipation as her husband wielded the belt? And how about this guy Steve, the husband, was he standing their sweating with his shirt open  or maybe even his pants undone? Was this Joanna looking at her husband’s crotch the entire time he beat her, seeing his cock thickening with each connection? Did they both get so hot from this dominating thing that they fell into furious sex after? God knew, neither Anne nor Kathy had heard them having sex. It would speak to Anne’s theory if Joanna and Steve made the spanking/whipping part of their play known, and then shut off the monitor after.

Kathy stood fully off the counter then.

“I can’t listen to any more of this, really. It’s too much,” she sighed.

“You like it just as much as me,” Anne snickered.

Nooooooooooo.

SWAP. SWAP.

“Jesus, he must have moved or something, they sounded different,” Anne said.

Despite themselves the women moved close to the monitor again.

SWAPPA. SHWAPPA.

“Fuck, she’s crying,” Anne added.

“Ok, this is too much,” Kathy moaned.

And indeed the belt slashes had been replaced by a low mewing, barely audible through the monitor, but there just the same.

“Good Lord!” Kathy exclaimed and shot across Anne’s spacious kitchen. “We
should not
be hearing this.”

“Wait, wait,” Anne said, still leaning there against her counter. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

“What?” Kathy reluctantly asked, still standing at the far end of Anne’s kitchen table. It was as if she was fighting the pull of that little blue and white plastic monitor across the room from her. She was keeping herself here, close to the table, willing her feet not to move.

No, baby no…

“Oh my God, listen,” Anne said. “Shit, she definitely likes it.”

“Oh my! My!” and with this Kathy felt her feet move under her despite her willingness to stop them. She bit her generous lower lip and stepped gingerly to Anne and the monitor again.

I...I…oh God... God…I can’t...

Yes you can…it’s ok…you have been punished, you can.

No, please, not like this, please…please. The pain and the pleasure…

I know. I know.

Jesus, Steve, please don’t make me…

Come baby, it’s ok. It’s time you come.

Steve…

“That’s it!” Kathy declared, reached out to the monitor, and flicked it dead.

“Hon, what are you so bugged about?” Anne asked as Kathy stepped back to the kitchen table, reached for her glass, and gulped back some more iced tea. Kathy pulled out one of the six chairs and sat slowly on the edge of it.

“It’s too much.”

“I am almost one hundred percent convinced they want us to hear them.”

“It’s…it’s not that.”

“What’s wrong then?” Anne asked. She walked to Kathy and knelt to her friend. “What’s wrong? You can tell me. This is all in fun, really. You heard her; she likes it. And to tell you the truth, I don’t think he’s even hitting her that hard. Really. It’s ok.”

“I know she likes it,” Kathy said, finally looking up from her big chest. “I know, it’s just that…”

“What, honey, tell me. What’s got you so upset?” Anne asked, placing her hand on Kathy’s knee, imploring her with her wide blue eyes.

“It’s just that…that… when I hear them, I… I really
really
want to be spanked to.”

Anne stood, walked over to her liquor cabinet. They were going to need something stronger than iced teas to be sure.