femmeslash, original, kinky, –re-written

I got a bout of tough love on this story; not enough emotion between the het couple, not enough emotion in general. So, once more;

Prologue here
pairing; Gloria/Jessamine/Jonas (Original characters)
Daddy Gloria gets a few more moments with the girl of her dreams
Rating; nc-17, word count; 2200-ish
Kink; spanking
Warnings; Rope, het sex, dominance issues.

The lounge held perhaps fifteen people, and the remains of a standard buffet lunch after a busy morning at the leather convention. The sub who was waitressing brought me a cup of coffee, but I could have easily slipped into restful sleep. The conversational murmur was soothing; talk of whips and manacles, genital torture and how best to punish a full-time slavegirl when she has to be at work the next day. Yeah, not what you usually think of as soothing. It was refreshing, though. I felt as if my daily disguise were laid aside, and I could let my demanding, aggressive, needy persona out to play. Looking around at the leatherfolk I was sitting with, I was sure we all felt the same way.

I lay back in my chair, and rested my boots on the bootblack’s box. The kneeling man took my foot onto his thigh, and began his work; I could feel the thumping of his hands, muted and dim, transmitted through the tall barrel of my Chippewa riding boot into my calf. He tsk’d for the umpteenth time, his fingers running across a tear in the barrel. “I ride in ‘em, they aren’t just decorations,” I reminded the kid.

“I know that, but it hurts my heart anyway.” The boy gave me a mournful puppy-eyed look that made me chuckle, and got busy with his glues and waxes, mending the nicks and soothing the surface.

“Excuse me Daddy Gloria, but there’s someone at the door for you?” The sub’s voice shot up in an uncertain squeak as she tried to lower herself to the floor. I put my hand out to stop her.

“Dammit, your Master told you not to strain that knee,” I reminded her. Biting her lip, she nodded meekly. Poor kid. She and her Master had intended to compete today, and it wasn’t going to happen. “Who is it?”

“She says her name is Jessamine, Daddy.”

My bondage model. She wanted me to take her out of the rope now, probably. “She can come here if she wants,” I said. The chair was situated so that I didn’t especially see the door to the room. I caught a glimpse of Jess in my peripheral vision as she came towards me, and her quick and sure movement captivated me all over again. “Hello, little girl,” I told her, “Come to get untied?” I didn’t let her answer. “You’ll have to wait till I’m done here, have a seat.” I gestured towards the carpet, and she plopped right down– crosslegged at first, but then she scrambled into a nice little kneeling position, her hands prettily on her knees. She returned my grin with a twinkling smile.

“I’m really liking wearing this,” Jess told me. She waved an arm in illustration, with its knotted sleeve.

“Looks good on you, too,” I said. “So you don’t want it off yet?”

“Can I leave it for a while longer?”

“What will you do for me?” I asked– if she thought wearing my rope was something to be asked for, what the hell. When she grinned outright, as she did just then, a dimple appeared low on one cheek.

“I’ll be your model for the rest of the day,” she offered. “I’ll tell anyone who asks, Mistress Gloria did this.”

“Not Mistress,” I corrected her, “You can call me Daddy Gloria.”

“Oh– okay, Daddy Gloria.”

“So, is that what you wanted, permission to keep wearing the ropes?” The bootblack put my left leg down and picked up the right. I got a covert wink from him, and kicked him in the chest for it.

“Well, yeah, and to thank you for using me.” Jess cocked her head at me. There was that training once more. I turned in my seat;

“Hey, Mark, bring Cynthia over here!”

Mark yawned and stretched, and scratched the skin under his leather harness. With slow ceremony he retrieved his glossy leatherman cap and set it on his close-cropped head, stood up, and pulled a gagged and manacled woman along with him to my side of the room. “What?” he said, and pushed the woman down to the floor.

“Would you kindly repeat yourself, little girl?”

“I wanted to thank you for using me, Daddy Gloria.”

“Now, you see, Cynth, that’s good manners,” Mark said solemnly. “You got a lot to learn, honey.” He dragged the woman up and out of the room, his red flogger swinging from his hip.

“Did your Master send you?” I asked Jessamine.

“Master? Uh– no, I don’t have a Master. And um, well– That’s the thing, I was wondering…”

If I would take her. If I had room in my bed for her. My stomach flipped over.

“See, my boyfriend won’t spank me, and I was wondering if you could teach him?” My stomach settled right back in its place.

“Oh, you’re requesting my professional services,” I growled, because otherwise, I knew I’d whine. “Fifty for an hour.” Jess blinked, but rallied quickly.

“Okay,” she agreed. “Should I go get him?”

No, you should come to me instead. “Wait for me in the front hall, and I’ll take you to the dungeon,” was what I said aloud.

**

“Daddy?” Jonas asked sotto voce.

“That’s the honorific, boy. Do you need an explanation right now, or do you want to get to the main event?”

Jessamine fairly glided when she walked, I had ample chance to note that fact as we travelled the hotel hall. Her boyfriend Jonas had that metrosexual look, with the tousled hair and unshaven cheeks, and seemed friendly enough. “Ever been in a dungeon before?” I asked them both.

“Nope,” Jonas said. “Not really,” said Jess. So, they got the short lecture on dungeon etiquette while we walked.

My pass got the three of us inside the door, and I stepped back and watched the two of them take in their surroundings. The girl swivelled her head back and forth, big-eyed and smiling, her cheeks turning an emphatic pink. The boy swivelled exactly once, across the racks, the horse, cross, the two cages, the slings– the knots of activity here and there, and the sounds of slap, crack and muffled moan, and shot me an incredulous look. Me, I felt like I was home.

“See anything you like, little girl?” I asked her. Jess trailed her fingers over the wide-topped leather-padded horse, with a secretive smile.

“What do you think?” I asked the kid. “It ain’t a bad way to do it, or she can go over a lap, or all fours on the floor.”

“She has that look on her face,” Jonas said fondly. “You’re getting kinky on me, aren’t you?”

“Duh,” Jess said. “It’s a leather convention, baby, remember? How do I go on this?” she asked me.

I pulled out a clip and handed it to Jonas. “Slide it through the three ropes on her wrists.” I pointed to the big ring at the top, and he pulled her arms forward, clipped them there. Under my direction, he put his hands around her waist, hoisted her up to lie along the rail, slid her back so that her hands reached above her head and threaded clips through her rope belt, attaching them to a short length of chain that was draped over the cross-brace so that she was secured to the beam with her lovely thighs hanging one on each side. “Gimme your feet,” I ordered. Jess bent them up; I hooked her ankles to the end-ring. She looked somewhat like a jockey, her knees wide to accommodate the width of the beam. Her gorgeous rump, tilted high, invited my hands to touch. “Comfy?” I asked. Jess executed a little wriggle before she turned her head to look at me and the boy.

“Mmm, whatever will you do with me?”

“What should we do with your girlfriend?” I turned to Jonas. He grinned;

“She’s been a bad, bad, girl, right?”

“Not to me,” I said. “I spank her because I like to make pretty girls happy.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jonas sounded puzzled.

“I don’t spank for punishment.” I came around so that she could look at me. I was talking only to her. “You make me mad, and I’ll remind you who you belong to. But not by spanking.” I studied her face, half-obscured by that heavy mop of cinnamon hair, and watched her tongue creep out and moisten her lips.

“Man, I’ve never spanked anyone before,” Jonas said; “It hurts, man, it doesn’t feel good.”

“We talked about this, honey, it really does feel good to me…” Jess said softly.

“Would you like me to demonstrate?” I said from between clenched teeth.

“I would,” Jess said emphatically. “Please, Daddy Gloria.”

“Go for it, if she wants it.” Jonas stepped back and gave me the place of pride.

I obeyed the call, and put my hands to her thighs. I slid them up, between her dress and her self, and began pushing the fabric out of the way, still trapped under the rope, till it was bunched around her waist and the white nylon framed her peachy ass. I ran my hands over the lush cheeks, fast and rough to create friction and watched her back arch and bow, see-sawing under the onslaught.

Jess purred, and then gasped when I dealt her one cracking stroke. I pulled away to watch the imprint pink up. “That hurt?” I asked.

“Sort of, but no…”

I turned to Jonas. “See, it sounds scarier than it is, man. And c’mere and feel this.” I grabbed his wrist, and laid his hand over the warm spot. “What we’re doing is bringing a lot of blood up to the surface, waking up the nerve endings.”

“Warm.” He stroked the skin, and brought his own hand slapping down on the other buttock. Then, once more in the same spot.

“Try moving around a bit,” I suggested, “Spread the pink up and down each cheek.”

I could see that Jonas had no instinct for touch. His blows were uncontrolled, going from light to hard without rhyme or reason, and landing in random places. Jess’s voice was not going into that purr I wanted to hear. I stopped him after six or so.

“Son, ain’t no one ever told you to take things slow?” I growled. “You watch now. Sorry, baby, we’re starting over again,” I told the girl. Her fucking fault for bringing this asshole along.

“Friction is a beautiful thing,” I said, and did the rubdown. I could feel the faintest beginnings of welting under the skin. I wanted to make his fingermarks disappear, and replace them with my own. I made the first slaps hard, and loud, and stinging,and rubbed away the hurt while I listened to her gasping breath.

“Like that, baby?”

“Please, more…”

I turned to her boyfriend, who nodded his permission.

Then I did her right, making love to her with the flat of my hand, with heat and gentle sting, and she responded with murmurs and grunts and little heaving motions that told me where to go next. Jess threw herself into the moment. I watched her head tilt and turn on her fine long neck, her spine writhe and twitch, those gorgeous thighs go muscular as she rode the beam. I told her of her beauty. I spread itchy heat down her thighs, up to the dimpled backside, while her blood colored her skin.

My hands were tingling, when I stopped. I put them on the horse and leaned over to catch my breath, and let my head drop onto Jess’s backside– baked satin, and I smoothed my cheek against the fevered flesh. The heavy scent of arousal, and I’d been here before. This time, I let my fingers slide down, to feel the wet between her swollen labia, hear her catch her breath.

“Check this out, man,” I gestured Jonas over. “This is how you know you’ve done it right.” I pulled my hand out of there, sucked her flavor off my fingers. Jess watched me do it, I grinned at her.

“Wow…” he said, and I hated him for that look of dawning comprehension. I turned my head away, so I wouldn’t see his fingers delve her cunt. But I could not ignore her needy whine.

“She’s ready for you now.” His look of confusion made me want to roll my eyes.

“Christ, boy, do I have to draw you a map?” I reached under the horse, and started cranking it lower. “You get it out of your pants, and have your wicked way with her. ”

“Right here?” Jonas looked around. Really, there weren’t many people, and everyone was intent on their own business.

“Yeah, right here.” He had more stamina than he had technique, but it didn’t matter to Jess, who just wanted to be drilled. I crouched at her head and kissed her the whole time. She sucked at my tongue, for which I was grateful. It kept me from saying anything important.