[continued]
Any pain she felt from the strike of the riding crop vanished a heartbeat later, but the warmth stayed pooled in Elsie's stomach. Nor was she helped by the little gasp Rachel made at the sound of the crop striking Elsie's flesh. Elsie's full attention focused on the older woman in an instant, drawn like a moth to the sound of her pleasure. Rachel, basking in the attention, maintained eye contact with her while one hand dipped to play with her hardening nipples under her shirt, putting on a show. Elsie swallowed hard, unable to look away.
"Elsie, do you see the clock on the wall?" Darryl's voice behind her made her jump; she kept forgetting he was there, eclipsed as he was by the sexual magnetism of his wife.
The effort to tear her gaze away from Rachel was momentous, but she managed. "Y-yes."
A pause, not entirely pleased; when he spoke his voice was more commanding. "Elsie. When you are in our bedroom, you will refer to me as 'sir' and to Rachel as 'ma'am'. Do you understand?"
She swallowed again, and nodded. "Yes. Sir. Yes, sir, I understand. I see the clock, sir."
"Good girl." His answer was a soft purr that sent her anxious heart fluttering. "What does the clock say, Elsie?"
"Nine past six, sir," she answered, her voice wavering with confusion. "Ten, sir," she added, when it changed.
"That is how many strokes you will receive for being late, Elsie," Darryl explained, his hand warm where it caressed the curve of her ass. "You will remember better next time. Count them off as I whip you."
"Y-- Sir!" The word ripped out of her as another smack took her off guard. The slap filled the room and Rachel gasped again, her questing fingers meandering down to touch herself through her jeans.
"One," Elsie only just managed to choke out, her attention almost entirely locked on the red-haired goddess sprawled on the bed before her. "Two!" she added a moment later as Rachel's fingers rose back up to thumb open the button at her waistband. The following "three" was a moan of hungry need as the older woman slid her jeans over her hips to reveal clean white panties and a soft waiting mound beneath. "Ma'am?"
The word was a whimper and Rachel's eyes lit with pleasure. As Darryl continued the whipping, she crawled forward on the bed to meet Elsie where she was bent over, palms still obediently flat on the cover. "My sweet farmer girl," Rachel purred, lacing her fingers through Elsie's hair and drawing her forward into a deep kiss that sent a shot of liquid need through Elsie's weakened thighs. Rachel's lips were warm and commanding, taking everything and giving back only the sweetest pleasure to offset the pain in Elsie's backside.
"Do all farmer girls taste like strawberries?" Rachel teased with a playful giggle a moment later when they parted. "Or just you?"
"Elsie, count," Darryl ordered behind her, the strokes still coming.