by Carrie
Diary of A Rich Girl – Chapter 63
Mr. Farrelli had me pitched over a stool with my panties off and legs spread wide. I hadn’t even bothered to take off my bra and heels. He was impatient as I was, smacking my bottom long, hot and steady until I incessantly grunted and moaned. I had long lost any inhibitions with him.
I was now obedient to his orders, did what I was told, got spanked how he saw fit, accepted leather on my bottom; and a cane now and then. It was a far cry since that first day I had shown him how to punish his daughter. It was I who needed to be punished and I was punctual, eager, and hungry for him to tug my panties down.
My hair was tussled and I looked a mess as he worked my bottom over. I kicked and twisted on that stool top, but he held me firmly with my wrist against my back. My stinging bottom was getting satisfied as he continued smacking it using the fat part of his hand. He had put up a mirror so I could watch myself get it. I couldn’t keep my eyes off it. A girl like me getting spanked was his biggest pleasure, but I didn’t care, because he always remembered whom he was and I knew he’d keep his mouth shut so I’d came back again and again and let him have his fun with me.
He finished up with me and as usual left me there alone to whimper. I slipped up my lacy panties, but I still had that slutty itch. I needed to be fucked. I needed to be whored. I needed Little John to do his thing with me. Mr. Farrelli came in to see how I was doing. He mentioned that my gown would be ready for the benefit and that he’d have it delivered to me in the morning. I asked him about Mrs. Groton’s gown and he said, “Hers was already delivered. Yours is more complicated. It needs that special attention.” I knew what he meant, but let it go.
On my way out he smacked my bottom. I didn’t like that but said to him anyway, “I’ll see you Thursday.” I left his little shop with that slutty desire still strong in me. I did something I promised myself I wouldn’t do. I took out the card Mel Vin had slipped into my shoulder bag and reached for my cell phone, but I heard a familiar voice down the street. It was Mrs. Groton, the chair of the benefit on her way to the little tailor. She was looking quite sophisticated in her new La Renta outfit. I tried not to smile; she had that spanked walk, the one that says that the lady is on her way to get her punishment. We stopped to chat.
I asked her, “Where are you going?” “To Mr. Farrelli’s to see how my gown is for the benefit tomorrow.” Who was Miss Sophisticated kidding? She was going to get her spanking. No one was louder than she. Mr. Farrelli, as busy as he was spanking four different ladies, Marge included, let on that Mrs. Groton came in nearly everyday to drop her panties. She was more insatiable than I was. I guess there’s something about pampered rich white women.
It was her turn to ask me how I was doing and I tried to be nonchalant, but she looked down at my bottom. She knew that I just had my bottom spanked; I had that other spanked walk, that tight hurt walk that looks like a pinched wiggle. “I heard about your black boyfriend.” I was caught off guard. I pretended that I had no idea what she was talking about. I pretended that I was a good girl.
“I can’t believe you like street cock?” I told her I didn’t and that whoever was spreading the dirty little rumor should shut up. She went on, “Seems certain people know of your little fetish.” I said, “You get spanked too, so don’t forget.” “That’s not what I’m talking about, but I won’t spread the rumor. I just thought you should know that some people know that you’re a slut. Well, Miss Slut, I have to be getting on, I’m late. Don’t forget the benefit tomorrow at the museum. We’re all counting on you.” She walked on haughtily and proudly, wiggling her tight lovely bottom, eager to get it spanked.
I unconsciously reached into my bag for Mel Vin’s card then wisely let it go.