Free The Business of Pleasure by Justine Elyot

know … humiliated. Ohh, God, yes, so humiliated and used and ashamed.’
    ‘You like that, don’t you? At least, the idea of it. But I wouldn’t leave you, Charlotte. I have too many uses for you.’
    Zips, buttons, fumbling and then a swift, hard, much-needed cock was slid snugly into Charlotte’s tight snare.
    ‘There,’ whispered Bryant. ‘Sore bum, full of cock, for the world to see, Charlotte. Take a moment to think how you must look.’
    Charlotte took that moment. She took that moment to look down at her hips, where Bryant’s fingers could be seen holding on. She took that moment to listen for distant voices or car noises, hearing nothing but the eternal leaves and the slight clinking of Bryant’s belt, swaying against their sides, the cool leather sometimes stroking her skin. For the duration of that moment only, she realised how her arm and shoulder muscles ached from the tension of the whipping, and she wondered how distracting the intense sting of her switch marks would be when Bryant began to thrust against them.
    But then all that was forgotten when Bryant began to withdraw, slowly, then sheath himself once more, without thought or care for her poor bum or her sore nipples, rubbed against the bark again. This was no slow, sensual coupling but a hard ride, Bryant grunting with each forceful stroke, the tree creaking as if their fucking might snap it. His pelvis slapped against her bottom cheeks, and she clung tight to her support, her feet sometimes raised from the ground as Bryant’s cock plunged deeper and faster. Bryant pushed urgent fingers against Charlotte’s clit, needing to get it over with, needing to fill her while she moaned in defeated ecstasy, and she let her orgasm scorch out from her cunt and along the searing lines of the switching, overtaking her exhausted body with thrilling, painful pleasure. Bryant snarled and pinned her so tight to the tree that she had to fight for breath, spilling inside her while he sank teeth into her shoulder.
    He slumped against her, his arms encircling her and the bark, breathing heavily. Charlotte felt that she was melting into him, her body smudged and dirty, her pussy slick with their combined fluids, the sweat of sex seeping into her welts and making her bottom feel as if it had caught fire. It was so uncomfortable, so sticky and icky and mucky, and yet she could stay like that indefinitely, she thought.
    She had a moment of panic when Bryant pulled out of her, having to hug the tree all the more desperately to keep upright.
    ‘Mmm,’ she heard him say, then there was a click and a flash of light, and she knew he had photographed her, all shiny and sweaty and streaked, her thighs clammy with his semen. She wondered if the picture would go up on the website, and the idea excited her, a tiny pulse of lustful shame awakening her tired sex.
    Then Bryant’s hands were on her shoulders and he was pulling down the polo neck to kiss the soft flesh there, stroking the fabric where his teeth had snagged it, whispering into her ear.
    ‘Good girl … well done … you are spectacular. You will take the job, won’t you?’
    ‘Oh yeah.’ Charlotte let her head loll back against Bryant’s smooth cheek, losing herself in the momentary intimacy.
    ‘Marvellous.’ He began to untie her, releasing her wrists first, then holding on to her waist when she was able to step back from the tree. She found that she needed the support; her legs were watery and her body stiff as a broom handle. Bryant continued to hold her while she stretched and flexed and shook out pins and needles until she was able to stand again, still naked from the waist down with the bra cups underneath her breasts and the black top, rumpled and soaked now, above them.
    Charlotte looked about for her skirt but Bryant chuckled and shook his head.
    ‘No, Charlotte,’ he said, then he put the tights about her neck and knotted them into a form of collar and leash. ‘You stay like that – it suits