The sign at the back of our store reads: “Please don’t play with the whips.”
But people nowadays have no respect for authority. We also have a sign that says, “No drinks in the store,” and customers are all the time wandering in with their cups of coffee and cappuccinos from the café next door. Usually, we either have to verbally chastise our customers, or simply shrug and hope for the best.
Around noon today, I watched a man heading toward the whip, crop, and quirt area with his girlfriend. I could guess right away what they were looking for. These weren’t your average horse-types. The girl looked to be about my age, in her early twenties, wearing a black-and-red plaid jumper and thigh-high stockings. She had on black lace-up boots and her blonde hair was in a ponytail with a bow at the back. The man was older, mid-thirties maybe, and he was wearing dark jeans and an expensive-looking black sweater. He had on a pair of well-worn motorcycle boots and wore a striking leather cuff on one wrist.
I heard the couple giggling, even all the way at the front register. We sell horse tack, but that doesn’t stop customers from using the equipment for their own kinky purposes.
“Didn’t you see the sign?” the woman said in a voice that was soft, yet loud enough for me to hear.
“I’m not going to play with them,” the man said. “There’s nothing about what I’m doing that I remotely consider playful. Now turn around, Julie.”
I moved closer to their area. It was in my mind to tell them to quit “horsing” around. That often stops people from misbehaving with the equipment. But when I heard her husky laugh, I didn’t interrupt them. I paused and peeked over the shelf through the towers of cowboy hats instead, and I sucked in my breath at how sexy they looked. The man had the girl in a tight clinch, kissing her lips and then biting her neck. They might have noticed me if they looked my way, but at the moment, they were too busy with their dominance and submission games. Plus, I figured I was fairly well camouflaged behind our stacks of hats.
“Kaz,” the girl said, more serious sounding, “What if someone sees?”
He had one of our crops in his hand, and he looked extremely comfortable with the implement, as if he was used to holding tools like this all the time.
“Someone like who?” the man asked. He turned his head to the left and the right, an expression of mock worry on his handsome face. He was clearly fucking with the girl. Though I had the feeling that they’d dabbled like this plenty of times before.
“There’s a girl at the front of the store,” she said in a hushed whisper. She wasn’t ready to give up so easily.
“We’ll hear her if she comes back here,” Kaz assured her. He was right to a degree. If I got any closer, the old wooden floorboards would definitely squeak to alert them to my presence. But where I was standing, I could see them and they wouldn’t necessarily notice me.
“Okay,” the girl said, taking position in front of him with her hands on the wall. “Just one.”
“Since when do you tell me a number, Julie,” Kaz said sharply. I had foreseen his response coming, and I smiled. I was starting to feel as if I knew them.
“Sorry,” she said quickly, but apparently it wasn’t quick enough. Kaz smacked her ass with the riding crop, and even through the fabric of her dress, I could guess she felt the sting. She didn’t cry out, but I imagined that she was doing her best not to make any noise. She didn’t want an audience. Kaz struck her five more times in rapid succession, and I clenched my thighs together each time the crop hit her ass.
“Lift your dress,” Kaz instructed.
“Kaz — ” She sounded as if she was begging, or close to begging.
“Don’t make me lift it for you,” Kaz said, and I could feel myself getting even more turned on. I wanted her to make him lift her dress for her. I wanted her to make him take her panties down. And I wanted him to make her bend over while he striped her naked ass with the crop. I wanted all those things and more, and I started to slip one hand down my jeans and into my panties to touch myself while I watched them. I couldn’t wait to see how far they’d take their kinky scene.
Slowly, the blonde lifted her jumper. To my elation, I saw that she was only wearing a scarlet thong beneath her dress. Poor girl. She wouldn’t have anything on to temper the sting. Kaz laughed and rubbed one hand over her naked asscheeks.
“Bet you wish you wore your boyshorts today, don’t you?” he teased her.
“Just get it over with before someone sees,” Julie said. Oops. Even I knew that was no way to talk to a dom, and I’d never engaged in a scenario like this one.
Kaz took a step closer to her and pressed his body up against hers. “Can you feel that?“ he asked her. ”Put your hand on my cock. Give me a squeeze.” She obeyed instantly. “Can you feel how hard you make me when you act like a brat?”
“Yes,” she said. It was more of a sigh.
“Why do you think that makes me so hard?”
“Because you like to punish me,” she said.
Oh, God. It was as if she had a key to my diary and had read all of my most secret fantasies. I have always longed to have a man punish me — discipline me for misbehaving or for no reason at all. The thought that Kaz’s cock was hard because she was being insolent was something I knew I would be masturbating to for months to come.