Second Time Around Read Online Free PDF

gestures to the large mirror to one side of the room, and I see myself.
    I’m kneeling, bound and gagged with my breasts rudely exposed and my nipples erect and ruddy. But my eyes are like stars, wide and glittering with dark, dilated pupils. I look like a model in a fetish photo. A totem of submission, yet an object of strange beauty.
    I moan again, behind my gag, excited anew by my own reflected image.
    “I love you, Willa.”
    The words should seem ludicrous, incongruous in this situation, but they are perfectly apposite. I glance at James’s reflection too, and his tanned face is aglow as if he too is in awe of my transformation. He’s all power, all control, but the love is there in him.
    And lust too. At his groin his erection is massive in his jeans. Moving over me again, his hands settle on my bottom, sliding the cloth of my skirt in circles over the skin and flesh beneath. A faint echo of my earlier spanking whispers in the muscles there, but it’s slight, almost nothing. My heart lurches at the thought of what might very soon replace that. Between my legs, I feel more liquid ooze, warm and slippery.
    James slides my skirt up, exposing my silky panties. One hand curves around from the back, cupping my crotch and pressing the narrow strand of fabric between my thighs against my weeping pussy. Wetting his fingers as he dabs lightly at my clit and I groan again, free to now that the sound is muffled by yet more wet silk.
    How can I get so excited? It’s not the sex we had before. It’s not the sex I’ve ever even thought of before. And yet it’s real. It’s true. And it’s full of love. On James’s part, and mine too. I want to pleasure him in these strange ways, as he pleasures me.
    Making a low, masculine sound of approval, he pulls my knickers down to just above my knees. Then taking me by the thighs, he sets them apart, stretching the flimsy garment like a bridge. A great wave of my aroused odor rises up and envelops us.
    “Gorgeous,” growls James, breathing it in. He inserts two fingers into my pussy and I squeal behind my gag, it’s so sudden and electrifying. My clit throbs and I beg silently for him to fondle it.
    “Not yet, baby,” he breathes into my ear as if he’s read my mind. His fingers are still lodged inside me and he parts them to stretch and stimulate me.
    I start to move frantically, shaking my hips apart to try to get some ease.
    “Steady…steady…” He puts his free hand on the small of my back, pressing hard to keep me still while he plays around inside me. Tears of delicious, aching frustration form in my eyes. “I’m going to beat you now,” he says with perfect, quiet gentleness. “It’ll hurt quite a lot, but you’ll thank me for it afterward.”
    I don’t know whether he means I’ll thank him for it because in some perverse way I’ll like it, or whether me thanking him is just a part of the ritual. Maybe it’s both. But I’ll know soon, as he withdraws his fingers, steps from the bed and fetches my wooden hairbrush from where I’ve left it on the dressing table.
    Then, with no further word, he begins to spank my bottom with it.
    It hurts! Oh God, how it hurts! He wasn’t wrong about that. The spanks resonate hugely, throughout my body, like a solid bar of fire impacting on the tender skin of my bottom, smack, smack, smack. Relentless…I shout and I curse behind my gag. I start to hurl my hips about, not avoiding the blows, just reacting to them, translating their energy into movement.
    Within moments, my entire bottom feels like molten lava, and my pussy is dripping and drooling, my honey trickling down my legs I’m so aroused. My clit feels as if it’s swollen, enormous and throbbing. If I could just touch it, I know I’d come immediately.
    But I can’t touch it, and the sumptuous torment goes on and on. Flexing my back in a concave dip, I push my bottom up to entice and encourage my own punishment, and at the same time rub my nipples against the