The Long Day of Revenge (8 page)

This was bad enough, but there was a deeper fear than the dread she felt at knowing a spanking was coming. There was the alarming insecurity of considering the obvious. Her husband was losing his mind. If Gaditano had not taken his life, he had taken a part of his sanity.

This day she would grudgingly comply with Manolo’s demand when he came back to the hotel, but she did have an ace up her sleeve to use against him.

She was wearing only a long nightshirt, with no bra or panties beneath. There was no point, as she knew the minute Manolo entered the hotel room, this would be coming off.

Their relationship was indeed a strange one, but her fixation with Manolo equaled the obsession he had with Gaditano.

“Manolo?”

The key turned and her lover entered, wearing a dark suit and tie. He looked like the big shot at some corporation rather than a matador de toros.

“I’ve got the best bulls,” he announced. “Let’s go before we lose any more time.”

Obediently, Lucinda arose and peeled the nightshirt over her head, so she was stark naked in the room. Manolo caught sight of her nudity and smiled in wanton lust.

“Give me a minute,” he announced. “I’m ready.”

It took him less than that amount of time to take off his own clothes and stand naked in kind. His arousal was obvious, but it was not this Lucinda’s eyes fell upon. It was the goring scar that caught her attention, reminding her that no matter how perfect things seemed, death was never far off.

“Let’s do some things and then you can get your whipping,” he ordered.

It was then Lucinda pulled her move that she hoped would avoid any punishment.

“How about if I finally agree to suck your dick instead of a spanking?”

Manolo was caught off guard, but gave no reply. Instead, he pulled her toward the bed and adjusted her downward on her back. It was then he spread her legs for her and grinned.

“It’s customary for bullfighters not to eat before a bullfight in case of a stomach goring or anesthesia for a surgery needing to be applied,” he proclaimed. “However, I have an idea first.”

There was no doubting what was on the menu as Manolo dropped to his knees and placed his mouth against Lucinda’s parted pussy lips. She moaned in pleasure as the first lick snaked upward, covering bottom to top, then went inward to tease the tunnel within.

“Oh, yes! Yes!”

Lucinda was starting to cry out even in the opening moments of stimulation. She brought her hands to her own breasts and toyed with them; twisting her nipples and feeling them come erect.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.”

Manolo’s face was buried beneath Lucinda’s thighs, nearly lost within her cunt lips. From the initial motions, she felt the surge of exquisite sensations flooding her.

“Oooooo. Oh, yes.”

Her words came as pants matching the movements below her.

“Yes. Oh, yes. Yes. Oh.”

Manolo’s tongue had a life and personality of its own, doing a dance within her vagina. He had not yet gone to the clit, but continued to lick and slurp within her increasingly wet love canal. If she finally had to break down and take the matador’s tool in her mouth in exchange for this and gain reprieve from an ass beating, the feelings rocketing through her right now would make it worthwhile.

“Oh, yes…”

She started thrusting her hips up and down, so she moved in timing with Manolo’s mouth. This increased the feelings of wonder that cascaded through her and she groaned a solid release of passion.

“Oooooooooo!”

Faster and faster she moved, rocking from the waist down. Manolo had spread her even wider with his fingers and was going deeper still into her.

“Oooooooooo.”

Then he found the clitoris, tormenting and teasing it with his tongue tip.

“Ooooojjjjjjjjj.”

Lucinda was now in ecstasy. She was no longer human, but reduced to a quaking, quivering mass of naked flesh and hair. Reaching downward, she drove his head into her, as if to smother him and the opening moments of an orgasm built within.

“Oooooo.”

It was happening way too fast. Summoning whatever will power remained, she tried to hold it all within, but such was next to impossible.

“Oooooo.”

She wanted this moment to never end as she walked among the clouds, feeling as if she was floating.

“Oooooohhhhhhh!”

As Manolo’s tongue continued to do its work, her whole body twisted and the overwhelming warmth flowed through her. She was climaxing in a river of lust and fire.

“Oooooooooo.”

Manolo had evidently grown way too excited as well. Not waiting to sink his throbbing member into her mouth, he fell backward on the floor, jerked himself a half dozen times and shot a load of white liquid into the air.

“Uhhhhh,” was all he could say for himself.

Lucinda responded with a fatigued moan.

For what seemed an eternity, they both laid in their respective positions, drained of energy and emotion. How the matador would build himself up to face the bulls in a few hours was a mystery.

The room was silent except for their heavy breathing, until it was Manolo who spoke.

“You made me come too soon. I’m not able to get my dick sucked, because you made me come. That’s going to cost you a whipping with the belt.”

“What?” Lucinda protested. “Nooooooo!”

“Yes,” Manolo ordered, as he rose and went to the spot where he had dropped his pants on the floor. “Either get up and get into position or take it on your stomach on the bed, but either way you’re getting disciplined.”

“This isn’t right,” she objected. “And besides, I’m tired of being spanked every time I turn around.”

“Get up,” Manolo commanded. “Get up and bend over.”

Lucinda knew what was expected of her, as they had done this routine before. She already started to sniffle, for she saw the belt folded over in his right hand and knew what was coming.

“Please. I don’t want to do this.”

“Shut up and bend over,” he repeated with even more force in his voice.

Lucinda was already on the verge of tears as she pulled herself from her prone position and stood. Then turning, she bent over the bed with her hands on the mattress. Her naked ass was sticking out and unprotected from the elements.

“Please…”

Her begging did no good, for Manolo delivered a monstrous whap right in the center of her naked ass, which caused her to yelp and jerk upright, with her hands instinctively going to the spot where the strike had landed.

“Get back down there and hold the position!” Manolo cursed out. “Don’t you even move again!”

The lone blow brought Lucinda to tears, but she said nothing, she knew no words would save her. Once again, she was at Manolo’s mercy, playing victim to both his rage and his fear.

“This is for promising to suck my dick and making me come before it was done,” he declared, as he brought another whapping blow across her flesh. Again, she jerked and let out a cry, as the leather smack resounded throughout the bedroom. There were now two rapidly reddening welts on her otherwise white bottom.

Two more blows came, on each side of Lucinda’s ass, causing her to bounce on her heels, though she maintained her bent position on the bed for fear of what would happen if she straightened.

“Oww. Owwwww. This hurts. It hurts. I hate this!”

Ignoring her cries, Manolo continued to smack away at her behind, watching the red marks start to rise. She was becoming welted from the blows, glowing with obvious soreness.

“Ow! I hate this! I hate this! Ow!”

Manolo still offered no verbal response, but continued to administer a severe strapping with his belt.

“Ow! Oooooo! Oooooo!”

After what must have been the twentieth blow, he backed off to examine his handiwork, relishing the damage he had caused. Assuming it was over, Lucinda stood upright and started to rub her burning ass, but her massaging did little to relieve the flames within.

“We aren’t done yet,” he announced, bringing a horrified whine from Lucinda’s lips. “Get up on the bed in doggie style and get your ass in the air.”

Obediently, Lucinda mounted the bed and knelt on her hands and knees. Her rear end flared red, in contrast with the rest of her body. Her flesh was ablaze.

“Noooo. Please…”

Manolo went back to work with the belt, striking both her bottom and her upper legs.

“This is what you get for making me come too soon. You’re being punished.”

Lucinda was no longer able to utter words, but only anguished sobs. Once more, her body rocked with each hit, as if she was doing some form of exercise rather than reacting to the intense onslaught of blows falling upon her.

Manolo was in his moment, loving this.

“You’re going to learn to be an effective lover. You’re going to learn not to make me come too soon. If you hadn’t been so into what I was doing to you, and I cannot say I blame you, I wouldn’t have come early. Now, how does this make you feel? Does it feel good, too? It makes me feel good when I punish you.”

Lucinda was still unable to issue a response aside from pained wails.

“Take this. Take this. Take this.”

The last set of whips were fast and furious, bringing even louder cries from the victim. Finally, it came to an end and she fell face forward on the bed, with her hands rushing backward to fan the flames within her blistered behind.

Exhausted, Manolo climbed over her and fell on his own face within the mattress.

Together, they said nothing. Manolo burned with passion, but Lucinda writhed in pain.

“Now I’m ready to face the bulls,” he piped out at long last. “Why don’t you let me get some talcum from the suitcase and put it on your ass?”

“I’ll get it myself,” Lucinda complained. “I’m gonna be lucky to be able to sit down today thanks to you.”

“I guess I’ll just have to do something on the sand to keep you standing,” he responded. “You and everyone else.”

Without another word, Lucinda rolled off the bed and inspected her backside in the dresser mirror, shocked at the reflection that greeted her. Her ass was turning purple.

“Jesus Christ,” she finally tittered. “Jesus Christ, why do I put up with this?”

Manolo pretended to ignore the remark, shutting his eyes and envisioning himself before the horns. He was so caught up in his dream world, he barely heard Lucinda go into the bathroom and shut the door. He assumed she was going to lie on the floor and cover her own ass with talcum powder, tending to herself as she often did after being whipped.

For a moment, he considered his behavior and her reaction to be a bit abnormal, but quickly shrugged off the thought.

There were more impressing matters at hand.

Much more important.

There were bulls to be killed in Tijuana.

His only lament was not the ass whopping he had inflicted upon his lover, but the fact that one of the bulls this afternoon was not the hated Gaditano.

Chapter Seven

Ever since the Tijuana episode, Lucinda had been more and more defiant about being spanked. She was also traveling less and less. She was likewise unenthused about the idea to move to Mexico City and indicated staying in Agua Prieta was more to her liking, but a session with a scrub brush had changed her mind. Being period time, she had been allowed to leave her pants up for that one, but she was spanked into submission again.

Manolo did not consider what he was doing to be abusive and neither did Lucinda. She could have refused to be spanked at any given time, though it would have probably meant a breakup. To him at least, it was an extension of love, no matter how uncanny that would seem to outsiders. He constantly reverted back to the first time in the rodeo ring in their home town and what had happened when he’d yanked the back of her sweat pants down and started whapping her. What a chain reaction that had started.

Outside of the spanking rituals, they had a strong relationship. To the rest of the world, they made a perfect couple.

Had fans been allowed into the hotel rooms when the pair traveled together, however, they would have had a far more interesting show to view.

Lucinda was starting to exhibit some strain, but Manolo, escalated to stardom in the ring, failed to notice.

Where something told him they were in great shape, there was still a nagging feeling behind that whispered warnings all was not so perfect. If Lucinda was not tiring of the spankings, be they foreplay or actual discipline, as their usage varied with each situation, she was beginning to tire of his fixation on the bull, Gaditano.

Lucinda was not with him in Nogales, and without her, the temptation to step out was big. His rational was if he did not engage in outright sex in any form, be it oral, vaginal, or anal, he was not committing adultery. After all, he’d seen all the old movies – Blood & Sand, Moment of Truth, and the like. Bullfighters who cheated on their wives were nothing new, in real life or in pictures, but in the latter, the end was always the same. They died in the ring, as if God chose to punish them for their infidelity.

He was, however, interested in trying something new. He was tired of Lucinda’s protests when he wanted to exercise his particular fetish. Thus, he had decided to search for something different.

Fernando De La Torre, who was well versed at cheating on his own wife, without any qualms about performing the sex act in any or all three orifices, had suggested an appointment at the Casa De Campo, which was famous, but served an exclusive clientele. The place advertised on the web, in swinger newspapers across the border, and even offered merchandise for sale. The price, however, was out of the reach of college students and their ilk.

Discretion was not a problem, or so he had been told. Famous people from all walks of life visited the Casa. They all had something in common. A need to be punished or to punish was just one of the categories catered to. Appointments had to be set up in advance, and just about any need could be met if the financial arrangement was right.

Manolo had done his best to look like the traditional matador from out of the films and novels, wearing his cloth cap and smoking a big cigar as he made his way down the side streets. This was not a part of the red light district on Canal Street, but a business all its own.