“She forgot her dog?”
“I guess it’s not hers?” Red observed.
“Ah.” So what did a man do with a dog in the middle of nowhere that seemed lost?
It limped closer.
“Don’t speak another word,” I told Red, making it a command.
Was that in the agreement? I didn’t care.
“Let’s get this one taken care of then I will look at that,” I said to the dog.
I towed Red to the table that was set in the deepest shadows. I removed my belt and shirt, as well as her panties, then considered undressing her. I decided I preferred the implied rape scenario of her being fully dressed. I had her kneel on the seat – knowing full well it would hurt her knees after a while.
That itch to hurt was trawling my mind presently, pacing back and forth.
Resistance is futile.
The road was past several sight-line obstructions – small trees, BBQ, and that other table. Most likely we were hard to see.
I tied her hands at her back with the belt, her ankles to the metal seat slats with shirt and a cord I fetched from the car, then I rearranged her dress and gathered it to her waist, the top of it I rolled down. Mostly naked but not quite. Lastly, I tore away her panties and gagged her.
“Now you can speak.”
She sideways glared at me.
I shook my head at how perfect this was, how alluring, with her cunt and ass on display, and her so helpless. The blush and swelling of her cunt and the glistening along her slit, were from the earlier torture I’d put her through.
I stroked two fingers from the top of her ass crack, trailing them down between her legs to where I stopped beside her entrance, fingers split and pressing on her.
“What do you want, Red?” She wriggled, moaning through the gag when I circled her cunt, over and over. “Want to be fucked, or should I stripe this ass first?” This time her sideways look was desperate rather than irate.
I took a few steps away from her.
I wasn’t sure who I was torturing more by leaving her tied down, exposed, and turned on.
Why, when I had fucked her a million times was this so excruciating? I tsked at my own contrariness.
To make more certain that this theatre of mine would not be interrupted, I fetched the ute and left it parked where it should block us from the traffic.
Then I went to the dog that rested in the shade, the darker hair above his eyes twitching as I approached. Did dogs have eyebrows? He sat up on his haunches.
“Okay, dog. Let’s look at that paw. She will keep.”
I ignored Red and let the dog sniff my hand – wouldn’t do to get bitten. He licked me, once. “Good boy.” Slowly I went to one knee beside the animal. “Got a name?”
His collar was bare of any ID, but surely most pets would be microchipped?
“Let’s call you Banjo for the moment,” I murmured as I put my hand out for his paw.
As I’d hoped, he whined but let me examine it. One soft but hefty paw was in my hand. The feel of this, of an animal trusting me, echoed in a good way. I smiled then patted his ear. I hadn’t had a pet in years.
Angling my head let me see the likely culprit. The pad was worn away and bleeding in one spot.
“So. Okay. Maybe rest will fix it? We’ll get you to a vet, later?”
He panted at me.
“I’ll take that for a yes.”
The next town, Borgeman, might have a vet. It had seemed big-ish on the googling I did.
I fetched an old coffee cup from the ute, rinsed it and filled it with water then let Banjo drink. After he was satisfied, I washed my hands and returned to Red, my one remaining and bestest-ever victim.
An idea surfaced, and I swerved to prowl the edge of the trees, where I picked up a sapling branch of just the right whippiness. Supple, thick enough, and once stripped of small branches, it made a great switch. I tried it out as I approached her, still tied to the seat with her ankles slightly apart.
“If you’re bored, I plan to wake you up, darling sweetness.”
She turned her head to me. A frown sprang onto her brow, though she shut her eyes as I pushed a finger fully into her pussy. I pumped it slowly in and out. “Nine?”
At first Red made indignant noises then she melted closer to the table, grunting and with her ass shifting, each time I penetrated her.
“Nine then.” I extracted the digit, noting the stickiness decorating it, and raised my switch hand, giving it a twitch to see how it flexed.
It would do. It would make pretty stripes and crisscrosses.
The swish and smack of the first hit, then her yelp, those sang to me as the red bloomed in a line on her ass cheek.
Red on Red. Pretty enough to take pictures of. So I did. Between strikes, I snapped out a few photos then left handprints on her butt, both sides, and took another pic before I placed the cellphone on the table.
I sat up on the table then lay down beside her to kiss her on her gagged mouth. “You didn’t smile enough for those.”
She seemed more intent on staring at me, so I figured my words had gone whoosh overhead. For a second or three, the switching had left her in limbo.
I kissed her again, then stroked away the new crease between her eyes, played with the gag where it squashed her lips. When her tongue poked at the gag, I
