Overtime by Roxie Noir Read Free Book Online Page A

before.
    “Oh! Oooooh,” she said, her yelps turning into moans.
    Another blow landed, this time on a place he’d already hit, the blow feeling cushioned by the slight numbness there, the stinging pain somehow landing deeper. Her hips lurched into the marble, the points digging through her flesh to find the hardness.
    Another blow, on the other cheek, the same deeper pain, the same hips digging into the marble. Valerie began to think that her knees might give out and she was trembling all over, both with the power of the blows, with her nervousness, and with the frightening discovery that she liked this.
    She really liked this.
    Valerie re-anchored her feet, taking tiny steps to stay upright, preparing herself for another delicious onslaught, arching her back and sticking out her ass to say, I can take it .
    There it was, another open-handed slap on her left cheek, fingertips brushing her cunt, and Valerie moaned, prepared for the next one. Instead, she felt on finger begin at her low back and trace the line of her thong, make its way down her crack, right over her asshole, between her lips and to her clit.
    “Oh, Mr. Declan,” she said, unable to control the sounds she made.
    In response there was another slap to her right ass cheek, stinging and burning and buzzing, and then the slow finger down her ass crack again. She sighed.
    “You take a spanking like a very good girl,” he said, fingertip resting on her clit.
    “Spank me more,” she breathed.
    “I’ll spank you as much as I like,” he said, a low note of ferocity and hunger in his voice, and then he landed two more blows on her ass, the hardest ones yet, hard enough to push her soft upper thighs into the table and move her off balance, her weight no longer on her feet but now entirely on the table. Her cunt pulsed and, even though nothing was touching her, Valerie felt as though she might come on the next blow, from the sheer force of her arousal.
    “Thank you,” she gasped, lips parted, unable to get her feet back underneath her.
    Then, he walked away. Valerie replayed the last few minutes in her head and realized that she’d never heard him close the blinds: everything he was doing to her would be displayed for anyone down in Central Park to see, especially since it was night and the lights were on the hotel room. A shudder of apprehension ran through her, but it was also a shudder of pleasure: all those people, looking at her.
    Jasper returned, standing just behind her but not quite close enough to touch. He took her right wrist in his hands, gently but very firmly, and closed something around it, something flexible but immovable, soft on the inside but unyielding. He closed another around her left wrist and then, with a click, locked her wrists together.
    She was handcuffed, she thought to herself, as she tried to move her hands apart but heard only clinking. She lay on the marble-top table, her feet barely on the floor, gasping, trying to process what was happening. Another chain brushed against the back of her legs and she realized it was hanging from her handcuffs, and briefly, she wondered what it was for.
    Well, for one, she was more aroused than she’d been in her life. Her thong was soaked through, she knew, and though the skin on her ass and thighs was numb, she thought her juices might be running down the inside of her thighs, a veritable waterfall in testament to her readiness.
    Jasper pulled on her handcuffs, pulling her shoulders back, encouraging her torso off the table. Valerie scrambled to get her feet back under herself and then stood, a little wobbly since she couldn’t see and couldn’t catch herself with her hand bound behind her. In small, mincing steps, Jasper holding onto her elbow, she moved about five feet into the room, and then he let her go.
    “Get on your knees,” he said. He was standing right in front of her, probably less than a foot away, she thought. Slowly, unsteadily, she bent her right knee to the floor and