Moving Day!

Well, I got packed quicker than I thought. Rusty Nale has a new address. These doors on this blog will remain open for those who can't find their way.

However, my new lodging is at:



Please don't forsake me - come to my new digs, and bring your friends ... there's room!

And, THANK YOU all for your patience and dedication. Always, Rusty!


Review and/or Purchase Your Copy of My New Book

Wednesday, May 26, 2010


So, everyone's wondering - can Rusty actually write? Or does she just bitch about her ever-broken heart?

Here's an excerpt from my book that I have (finally) returned my attention to:


It’s after dark, and I arrive in the parking lot of the warehouse. It is empty, except for one lone light I can see from the lot. Hesitantly, I make my way through the unlocked door as Gio instructed me, and wander through the darkened building. At the end of the hall there is a light which tells me he’s there. I follow the light, and find myself in a large musty office. I can tell someone is standing in the corner in the dark, but my eyes won’t adjust to the light. He comes towards me, and I see he has a black hood over his head, and wears a beautiful blue silk suit. He does not speak, nor do I. We both know why I am there.

I have come to his office to be spanked.

A total stranger – we both are – and I have come here to allow him to spank me. What kind of an idiot am I? Gio arranged this and told me I had to do whatever this man desired. I told him I did not like the idea, but he kept insisting that if I trusted him, I would do whatever he asked.

The anonymous man takes my hand and leads me to the desk, and very gently bends me forward, and I rest on my elbows, waiting. He brushes the hair from my face and look away in defiance. His hand is on my rump, rubbing my plump behind through the fluffy taffeta skirt of my cocktail dress. I twist my ass a little nervously, but I can also feel his fingers creeping up through the layers of taffeta, lace and netting, resting on my warm behind, clad in sheer chiffon panties. I wish he would not do this. Why did I come here? I’m very uncomfortable.

Leaving formalities behind, he raises my skirt, draping it and all my petticoats over my shoulders, hiding my face, I can see nothing, but hear him moving behind me, and feel his warm fingers at the top edge of my panties. They’re going down, down, down, twisted around my ankles. Kneeling behind me, he makes me step out of them, stroking my thighs, my hips, and my buttocks. A shudder goes through me just in time to receive the first horrific WHACK! What the hell was that? I can’t see. I don’t know. WHACK! Oh, my God, what IS that???

And again, and again and again. I cry out and squirm, shifting from one foot to another. Oh, please, please don’t do this to me … oh. But, they continue, whack after whack. I think I could faint. Suddenly, as quick as they started, they stop. I am so relieved, I start to get up, but he shoves me back down onto the desk, and places next to my face the implement used to pummel my bottom. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see it is a large wooden ruler.

And then, the real spanking begins. His bare hand is solid and square upon my large globes, already burning in pain and shame, jiggling to no avail. I’m trying not to give him the satisfaction of my tears, but I choke them back, fully aware of how shameful I must look, presenting my bottom to a total stranger for punishment. Oh, please, sir, please don’t beat me so hard. The swats go on and on and on and on. I throw myself forward onto the desk, holding onto the other edge, babbling and blubbering. He spanks me relentlessly, so hard; I feel my knees go weak. In my misery, I cry out into the caverns of the warehouse, “Gio! Gio! Please, make him stop! Make him stop!”

“Why did you come here?” he growls. I don’t answer; trying to make out his voice, I shake my head through my tears. SMACK! “Willow. Why are you here?” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK, SMACK!

A shuddering mass, I sob, “So you can do this to me!”


“Giovanni said I had to.”

“No, why are you here?”


“Because I need you to.” … SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! … “Ohhhh…”


“Need me to what?”

“I need you to spank me. I need to be spanked. I have to be spanked. I must. I’ve been horrid lately. I feel so guilty; so ashamed …” My tears are lost on you. The spanking is never ending. Finally, I collapse across the desk. I can smell the furniture polish; smell the ink from a ballpoint pen, my gardenia perfume, steaming from the crack above my blazing ass, and the same perfume on the ruler next to my nose.

Stroking my burning ass, you are whispering to me softly, telling me sweet things, cooing me like a baby, as I sob quietly into the blotter on the desk.

“Willow,” you groan into my neck …

“Ah, yes, yes,” I moan.

“Your bare bottom really deserves my belt, now, doesn’t it?”

“No! No! Not the belt!” I squeal. I can feel him pry my cheeks apart, cool air caressing my pulsating anus. And, then I can hear the distinct sound of leather leaving belt loops; a quick flip and a snap in the air, and you’ve doubled the thick, worn leather, flashing across my burning bottom like a fiery snake. “Ohhhh, God! Please, please don’t do this to me.”

Who is he? Why would he do this to me? Why would Gio have him do this to me, and why am I allowing him to do this to me.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar sensation teases my virginal asshole. Even Gio has never taken me there, but this is foreign, cold and frightening. He slams it down on the desk next to me with the ruler, and I am in awe of its beauty. I recognize it as a butt plug, sterling silver and very ornate, designed so the raised engraving can be felt as it travels deeper into the receiving end of the bottom. No, not for me. I never agreed to anything like this. But, Gio said I had to do whatever this man wanted, and I was too far gone to retreat.

I could feel him begin to massage some type of greasy lubricant into my puckered ass, which kept closing up on him as he worked his dexterous fingers in and out of me. I involuntarily began to spread my legs, exposing my wilting cunt and opening my asshole for his exploration. And, then, I feel it cold, smooth and obtrusive, as he begins to work it slowly up my behind. Then he stops, his hand firmly placed on the small of my back.

“Willow, I want you to wiggle and push your ass back to receive this plug up your rectum. I’m not going to move; you take it in and suck it up your fat ass!” I don’t move, horrified at the request. “If you don’t follow instructions, you will be caned with a metal rod that’s right there on my chair.” I glance over and see it in plain sight. I’m so afraid, but I take a deep breath, and through my utmost shame and humility I begin to squirm my hips, rotating my big ass onto the waiting silver invader. “Push!” he urges, and I push, arching my back and working my behind so hard taking it deeper and deeper and deeper into my tormented bottom. I am so humiliated and humbled, I began to weep softly again, trying desperately to ignore the tingling going on deep between my pussy and ass. My pussy begins to seep warm honey profusely. “Nasty girl!” he quips, and to my surprise, takes a quick swipe at my ass with the rod. I shriek in pain and shock, and wait for the next swat, but it does not come.

One of his hands is buried in my soaking pussy, and he leans forward and kiss my tenderized bottom right where he just lashed me. Keeping his hand in my cunt, he leans in and sends his belt flying all over my defenseless bottom, being sure the target – in this case, the base of the silver plug buried up my backside – receives the end of the belt, sending it deeper into me with each lash. I stomp my feet furiously, arch my back, and feel the wetness between my legs begin to soak the inside of my thighs and his busy fingers. I am certain Gio is not aware this man is having his way with Gio’s own ass and cunt. Surely he would kill this man.

An ass whipping! Who ever thought I’d come to you, a grown woman, for an ass whipping. “I should do this to you in front of your friends,” he tells me, my legs spreading wider and wider, my bottom flopping every which way. I know he is enjoying the view and I’m ashamed he has aroused me. “You deserve to be whipped naked in front of them all. Let them see what a nasty slutty cunt you are.” Five more horrific lashes, and he stops, letting me breathe. But, of course, he is back with his teeth fastened to the back of my neck I am helpless, so helpless. Oh, when did Gio give me to him?

“Count these last 10 strokes, baby.” And they begin, with the ruler again. SMACK!

“Ugh … 1” SMACK!

“Two.” SMACK!

“Thr … three … oh, God, please, STOP!” SMACK!

SMACK, SMACK … right above my thighs where my garter belt meets my silk stockings. I scream in pain.

“How many, Willow?”

“Six…” My tears are inconsolable. He holds me, supporting me under my shoulders; my head falls back onto his chest, tears streaming down my face, my neck, into my cleavage. SMACK!

“Seven” In agony, my behind rises and falls, my cunt pounding against the edge of the desk, and I feel a hand creep to my breasts, pinching my hardened nipples through my dress. “Ohhh, ohhh, no, no …” SMACK! SMACK!

“Nine!” You start to count for me as I’m beyond speech, my backside pumping up and down, his hand holding my hot bottom tightly. “Ready, baby?” My breath is heavy and labored. And he delivers one fierce blow to my backside right across the crack, sending sharp bolts through my body. Kicking wildly, I try to climb the desk, but he holds me steady, still squeezing my nipples. I can’t stand this, and he flip me over onto my back; one hand on my clit, the other massaging my still writhing bottom. And quickly, very, very quickly, I cum. I can’t stop cumming. I cum all over his hand, all over his desk. I can’t stop. He’s mastered me, and he too, whomever he is, owned my ass.

He leaves me there lying across the desk, my legs spread, exposing my dripping cunt to the world. I cannot breathe, cannot move; afraid to move. It’s dark and I’m frightened, and I begin to tremble. How will I get out of there? Where am I even? I can hear my trembling heart in the darkness and cover my face with my hands as I shamefully begin to cry softly. How could Gio do this to me? Why? And, why oh why did I respond to this stranger so easily.

Suddenly, I am embraced by the familiar, soothing scent of cedar and cinnamon. Gio is near me, and in the darkness I reach for him, unknowing where he is. Instantly, I am gathered up in his arms as he kisses my face over and over again. “You were a good girl; baby … a good girl … a very good girl.”

No comments:

Post a Comment

What I post here are my thoughts only, which I am not here to impose on anyone else. Feel free to tell me what you think. This is a creative forum, and not one for bashing and/or judging. So, speak to me ...