Just drive a formula 1 o.., p.3
So Hot for Him: Bad Boy Forbidden Love Romance Collection, page 3
“What do you think of all those, then?” the tall man asks.
I start at the top of my list, the first one he pointed out. I tell him that while I like the buckle and stitch work, I want less revealed. I want more modesty in all of them, with a focus on making some of these designs wearable in real life, not just rebellious and shocking. I explain that I like how the belts and straps emphasize the curves and womanly features of the wearer, but that I’d like to see more class and more dignity added in.
“I would want to make women feel like they could wear these kinds of things, even if they weren’t going to a club like this.”
As I’m speaking, the gentleman nods. I can see him truly thinking about what I have to say, not just politely listening to me because I’m a woman, and he might have some interest in fucking me.
Some guys at the college tried that, and I’ve seen right through them. It’s why I am still a virgin and plan to be until I find the right man. I want a partner who actually cares to listen to what I think, someone who actually understands why my field of work is so important —before I take that leap.
“I would want women to be able to embrace this vibe of rebellion, sexual liberation, without necessarily feeling like they might be on someone’s menu.”
There is more nodding from the gentleman. Finally, I get to the strange harness. As I’m looking at that and giving my feedback, the only thing I can think is much more modesty. I would pull back how much skin is showing, especially the fact that I can see the woman’s pussy and ass as she turns around. It’s so exposed, I swear I can see the shine on her lower lips under the lights.
“It’s designed to be that provocative,” he says. “Aside from the fact that it was designed that way, what do you think about it? Would you wear something like that?”
I find his eyes again, feeling shocked and intrigued. I feel myself blushing and my own pussy twitching, but I tell both to calm down.
“I think it’s very sexy. I think it looks very good on her.”
I’m blushing so hard that I can’t speak for a moment.
“I would wear it. I would try something like that, I suppose.”
I duck my head down.
“But I just don’t know if it would look good on me. I’m not really that type, and it’s not just about the body. It’s about personality, and I’m quite shy. I am not like my friends. I barely even like to show cleavage, let alone all that.”
I look up at him, feeling my heart race.
“But yes, I would try it.”
The gentleman smiles and puts his hand on my shoulder again. As he does, I realize just how devastatingly handsome he is. His muscles seem to only add to his charm and mystique, his refined and noble quality, not take away from it. And I wouldn’t have thought someone with muscles could ever pull off a suit.
But he definitely can. And I definitely would… pull off his suit, if I got to see what else was underneath there.
Surprised and shocked by my thoughts, I tell myself to knock that off. That I’m here for information gathering, not for losing my virginity.
But he might be just the kind of guy I would lose it too. He seems as interested in fashion as much as I am. He seems to actually care what I think. He’s not just listening to patronize me.
“If you’d like that harness, I could get one for you to try on. And if you try it on and you like it, I could let you keep it.”
“Really?”
After that word’s out of my mouth, I quickly clamp down on any more excitement. I don’t want to seem too eager or too ready for free clothing.
He laughs good-naturedly. “Yes, really.”
“How can you arrange something like that?” I’m speaking through my hands covering my face, blushing even harder.
“I can do anything I want with clothes like that. I designed them, after all.”
I breathe in, shocked, and further embarrassed. But, before I can say a word, he just grins and says.
“Yes, you’ve been critiquing Ainsworth clothing to the one and only Kace Ainsworth.”
He begins to lead me with him toward another part of the club.
“I will get us a private room, and then get someone to fetch you a harness of that same design.”
He pauses, looking to me.
“Is that something you want?”
I nod before I’ve even had time to think about it.
After critiquing him so harshly, the least I can do is try on one of those outfits — those harnesses.
I blush again, watching as we approach a waitress.
Even if he decides not to let me keep it, I’m going to do it for him anyway. Anything to make up for how ruthless I was. Even if he did seem to like what I had to say.
Chapter Five - Kace
The look she has on her face — the one of bewilderment and shock when I admit who I am — that makes me even more intent on having her and making her strip. I want to punish her for some of those things she said about my work, even though I am inspired by her criticism.
The next expression on her youthful face — the one of mischief and wonder that comes over her as I begin to lead her to the part of the club with private rooms — that one has me itching to put her in one of those harnesses.
I want to watch her strip and put it on, before making her helpless in addition to completely and fully exposed. She will be at my mercy, exactly as those harnesses were designed to do.
I see a waitress up ahead. Pulling her aside, I say that we are interested in renting a private room for the night. I asked for a specific one, knowing that there are more hooks and similar devices built into the walls there than in others.
When the waitress returns with the keys (they have a small charm in the shape of a ball gag attached to them), I make a second request of her.
“Have someone bring my car around. Have them also get one of my harnesses, one exactly like that.”
Taking the keys from the waitress, I point out the harness in question, making sure there are no mistakes.
“Yes, of course, Mr. Ainsworth,” she says. “Please go ahead and get yourself and your lady comfortable in the room, and I will get someone to deliver the suit to you.”
“Very good,” I say, and begin walking my little fashion designer with me toward the room I’ve reserved for us.
It’s away from the main area, but so are the rest of the private rooms. This one, however, is one of the biggest in the entire establishment. It’s designed to house multiple playmates if necessary. But for tonight, it’s just going to be her and me.
I’m in love with this girl’s face, the way her eyes widen from behind her boxy glasses as she takes everything in. Even in a 70s’ styled dress, like she is, she’s gorgeous to me.
Even if those clothing items cover up so much of her skin, I’m intrigued by her willingness to try on something she’s uncomfortable with. All her critique about my designs had to do with their risqué quality. How much flesh was on display in what she called “unnecessary” and “unusable” in daily life.
I didn’t think she would go for wearing something like that. I didn’t think she would take me up on my offer.
As we get to the door and I put the keys in the lock, I study her. She’s blushing again, looking down, and fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. It’s excitement and fear moving through her, but she doesn’t move to take it back.
She doesn’t move to back out like some of the other women I’ve been with. She stands firmly by the door, waiting patiently to be directed inside.
Whether it’s because I told her she could have the harness after or not, it doesn’t matter. She gets points for being so willing to do this for me, even though she has no idea what more I plan to do to her once she is inside — if she thinks to critique me in the same way, once that item is on her, not on someone else.
“Go on in, miss,” I say, gesturing her inside the door I’ve opened.
She moves quickly and obediently. It’s something not lost on me, and something I will be eager to take advantage of in a moment.
“Get comfortable. It may be a few minutes we have left yet to wait.”
I follow in after her, closing the door. It’s not enough to lock it, but enough to create a private space. My little fashion designer occupies herself by looking around the room, studying the bed and the other furniture in this place.
There are chairs and couches with extra leather attached. I then notice her studying the walls, the fancy hooks, and clips along multiple surfaces. They’ve been carved to look like they belong in the room, not as though they are relics from a dungeon.
While we wait for the delivery, I decide to strike up small talk with her.
“So, miss. Since you have so graciously decided to try on something I know is out of your comfort zone, I’d love to know the name of my model for the evening.”
She turns away from her study of the hooks, comes toward me.
“Britney,” she murmurs.
“Nice to meet you, Britney. You can call me Kace. All my models do. To them, I’m not just an Ainsworth.”
Britney nods, fixing her big beautiful eyes on me.
“Kace.”
She doesn’t say anything else after that. She seems to be content to savor my name on her tongue, behind her lips.
Right around then is when there is a knock on at the door.
“I’ve come with the harness you requested, Mr. Ainsworth,” says a voice.
It’s not the same one from before, but it doesn’t matter. I go to the door, open it, and take the suit from the staff member.
“Thank you,” I say, and close the door.
Now the locks are engaged, and we are truly alone. I approach Britney, unfurling the harness from my arms, preparing to be put on her, and to tease/torture her a bit with what exactly she’s agreed to do for me.
“Here is the harness, Britney. As already explained, if you put this on for me, and if I like how you are behaving for me in it, I will let you keep it.”
I see her startle and shiver a bit. Yes, I hadn’t said that exactly before, and she knows it. But she’s not about to object, either. If she does, I have ways of correcting that.
“Go ahead and strip,” I order.
For a moment, Britney doesn’t move to do what I say. She begins to object.
“Well, I’m going to need some privacy to do that. I can’t just…”
I march closer to her, holding out the harness.
“No. If you want to keep this harness, you are going to do as I’ve asked. Strip,” I say, this time sounding more commanding.
I hand her the harness, go to one of the couches nearby, sit and wait.
“You agreed to do this for me, Britney. Don’t disappoint me. If you do, you’ll be out of this club, and out of luck on getting to keep that precious bit of clothing.”
I lick my lips.
“I might even have to disclose all those photos you took, getting you in some further hot water.”
This is enough to motivate her. She begins to strip quickly. First, she takes off her dress, but then as she gets to her bar and underwear, her knee-high nylons and shoes, she moves more slowly and sexily, as though part of her is enjoying doing something so brash.
As I’m watching her undress, I’m getting hard. I’m intoxicated by the idea of getting to touch those perky breasts, run my hands down those small, curvy hips, spank and pinch that curvy peach of an ass.
Soon she is completely naked in front of me, and I’m eager to see that nakedness surrounded by my belts and buckles. I want it confined by my straps so that I can hang her to one of my walls like the beautiful piece of art she’s going to be for me tonight.
“Put the harness on,” I say delicately, as she grabs the pile of dark material from the ground and begins to try to figure it out.
She figures out enough of it to pile it all at her feet and then try to pull it up, but from there, it becomes difficult for her. She starts trying to put the straps every which way, getting her breasts and ass poking out from various places, but not the right places. I watch her struggle with it for a moment; I watch her face and eyes become brighter and redder from effort and frustration.
I let her struggle with it a moment more before coming to the rescue.
“Would you like me to help you dress?” I ask this as I stand up from my place on the couch and move toward her.
She nods shyly, and I quickly take my opportunity to enjoy her body for myself and feel it with my fingers.
As I slide on the harness, I take opportunities to glide my hands over every part of her body, mostly her legs and thighs, as I bring various straps up. I feel her nude hips and ass as I do the same there, lingering on various parts. I do so to untwist some of the belts, but also to make sure she’s feeling me feel her.
By the way she trembles under my touch, she does feel me exploring her and taking more liberties with her then she might have expected, but she doesn’t say anything. She just lets me continue my work, which is now around her breasts. I enjoy cupping them as I bring the straps up and around them to confine them and restrain them.
I run my hands down the length of her body one more time. Both for my benefit (I’m fucking hard, and ready to take her in her sweet pussy right now), and to make sure that the harness really is on tight and properly.
It is, and as I tell her to turn around and look at herself in the mirror, I push my cock down. It wants nothing more than to sink into her pink, shivering depths, but not yet. Not until I’ve had a bit more fun with her. Not until I’ve given her a bit of punishment, a lesson in how living, breathing fashion works.
“What do you think of the way you look?” I ask this of her, just as Britney gets an eyeful of herself wrapped in leather straps, buckles, and silver attachments.
I can tell she’s supremely uncomfortable with all the skin showing, her nipples and pussy specifically. Even from the front, you can see the edge of her mound.
“It’s too revealing to me. Just like the other one, it’s not done for anything else than showing as much skin as possible, while acting like you have something on. I would definitely cover more of this up.”
She gestures to her breasts.
“I definitely wouldn’t be showing this off either.”
She zeros in on her crotch. But she sees something I didn’t before. Her pussy is so wet her thighs are slick. Britney quickly covers herself with her hands.
“As I said before, if some woman is going to wear this, she should feel empowered, like she’s in charge of her own space, not on someone’s menu.”
She looks at herself even more critically. Something I hate and am more irritated by than before.
“It shouldn’t just be on the designer’s whims to make her looked like a trussed-up pig.”
As she says this, I can’t help myself: I take her in hand, bend her over, and spank her soundly on her ass. It jiggles in response to my attention.
As the sound of the slap fades, I see the shock and surprise on her face. I wonder if that’s going to be enough to make her hold her tongue. It usually is for other women, but no other woman has dared to critique my work in that way or talk about my artistic vision in such a way.
You really aren’t like all the rest of them, are you?
As this thought blazes through my head, I see something else on her face: blatant, unabashed desire.
Chapter Six - Britney
Oh, my God!
Kace just spanked me!
I’ve never been spanked before!
My heart’s racing from the shock and surprise, but that’s not the worst part. I actually enjoyed being spanked. I’m actually hotter and wetter because of it, but I’m also not sure why he hauled off and spanked me. I only told him what I told him before, and he didn’t seem angry about it then.
I’m so fucking weird! I enjoyed being spanked like that! Even if I’m not sure why I would let him do that again.
My mind goes blank for a minute, remembering the feel of him all over my body. The way his hands took their time gliding over my curves, savoring all my exposed bits and pieces. I know he was taking longer than he needed to.
I know he was taking his time on purpose, feeling me up for his own enjoyment, even as he was “helping” me dress. But I was turned on by that too, and this spank he’s just given me — I’m over the edge now.
After what feels like an eternity of being in shock, I resume my assessment of myself and of the outfit, just like he asked. Kace did say that I needed to do exactly what he said if I wanted to keep this harness, and I’m going to do that, even if it upsets him. Critique is necessary for any artistic field, and fashion definitely so.
“I’m not sure what all of these other attachments are for, these hooks and circle bits, but if someone was wearing this out in public, they might get caught on something. I would get rid of those, and only put them around the hip area for decoration and things like that. Maybe some around the shoulders, but not all over the way you have them.”
Right as those words clear my mouth, Kace spanks me again. He does so harder this time, actually stealing my breath away.
“The way I have them is very purposeful, Britney. You are going to be punished for that kind of critique of me and my work.” He spanks me again and again, leaving me even more breathless.
“You asked for criticism,” I say over his punishment of my ass.
It’s still going, even as I’m speaking over the sound of skin slapping skin. I’m wet and warm below his hand.
“You said I had to do as you asked, so I’m doing that.”
I look at myself in the mirror, my face flushed from embarrassment and excitement.
“I asked you what you thought, not for you to criticize,” he says roughly.
