by Carrie
Diary of A Rich Girl – Chapter 102
But I just couldn’t walk out of the party. I knew I needed to be there. All parties need pretty girls and I agreed to come for that reason despite that fact that I run my own company and that my line is featured in the store. Carlo was inside keeping an eye on me over his cocktail. It was his store and I knew he wasn’t happy that I was standing outside looking bored.
Carlo and I had met in St. Tropez through a mutual friend of ours in the business. We were on the beach and he couldn’t keep his eyes off me. It wasn’t like I was the only one topless on the beach, but he kept on making comments on how I walked. He said there was a pained look and he stressed the word pain.
I wasn’t about to tell him when I was rushing through the hotel lobby and my collar fell out of my beach bag some guy reached for it and came on to me. I always take the collar with me and often wear it for fun on the beach with just my thong on. I thanked the guy, but not before accepting his request to walk down to the water with me.
“And you’re alone here in France?” I said, “Yes.” He asked, “What do you prefer?”
I thought that was abrupt. He pointed to the collar and said that a girl who wears a collar like this doesn’t do it just for fashion. Well, I wasn’t about to tell him, but there was something about him that made it clear that he ‘knew’ me.
“So, you’re here just for the sun, all the way from America?” I told him I was meeting with friends and business associates. We got to the beach and I slipped off my sun dress. I was naked except for my little black panty thong. He reached in my bag, “May I?”
He put it around my neck and held his fingers there for a moment. “You’re very beautiful.” I said, “I know that.” “French girls aren’t so blatant.” I said, “But their men are?” He stared at my large sloping tits. My nipple rings turned him on. Or maybe it was just my plump nipples. Or maybe it was just my wonderful sweet personality. He released his fingers and said, “For a submissive, you are very strong” I said, “There’s no contradiction in that.” That got him.
I knew he wanted to torture me. He had that look on his face. The more I contested him the more the sweat around his lips was the result of pure lust. I decided I enjoyed torturing him and kept on doing so. He thought he could immediately control me but he had something to learn.
I saw Carlo and walked on. The French guy tried to join me, but I told him, “Keep your distance or go away.” He was smart and kept his distance the whole afternoon. He stayed right behind me and behaved himself. He proved that he could take orders and obey me. And in kind I obeyed him. But Little John is the only one I’m a complete slut with. He can do what he wants with me and treat me like garbage.
That night I let the French guy whip me, that is, after giving him instructions: slow and easy, hot when necessary. He did just that. He could have been a butler. By the end of the week he was fucking me. I was seriously thinking of calling Thisley and firing him.
When I came down to the beach the next day Carlo noticed my unusual walk. I was surprised when he said that it was sexy. Of course I wasn’t wearing a thong, I was red, how could I? But that only made me look hotter in his eyes. I decided to get him jealous. I told him, “Well, if you must know, the waiter at the café fucked me last night.” Carlo could barely hide his jealousy. He wanted to be clever, “Did you fuck him?” I laughed and walked on with that spanked twitch and said, “He was too busy fucking me.”
Carlo said, “You’re a little red over there.” I looked at him like he was holding back something. I said, “Stop looking at me and let’s talk business.” But he couldn’t stop. All he wanted to do was fuck me. So I played with him. Like you do with all dogs.
Then my dog called. Little John. It was time to go home.