by Al Daltrey
Jack repeated his original mission aloud: “Before the end of this month I want to fuck you in our bed, with the smell of both of their pussies on your face.”
I asked him if this qualified, and he reassured me it did. I had to blink away tears of pride.
Then, in our bed, he repaid me in full for my success.
Chapter 5. Whipped
Jack’s View:
I spent the day working from home. Why not? Others in my office do it. I think we all know the drill when someone works from home. They check email, run errands, check email, make something to eat, check email, watch TV, check email, take a nap, etc. In between checking emails, I had a mischievous chore of my own to complete that day. I measured and positioned two removable hooks in the ceiling of our den, cleverly embedded beside two pot lights which were set about four feet apart.
I wanted to find a good spot in our home where I’d be able to string up Chloe from the ceiling and have her full body accessible for whipping, front or back, depending on my preference.
The day was moving both quickly and slowly. It was noon before I knew it, and yet, waiting for Chloe to get home from work was taking forever. I imagined her at her office. She was probably working away diligently, trying to concentrate on her job, but continually distracted by the knowledge that I’d be waiting for her in our condo, whip in hand.
I surprised her with a phone call. To my luck, she wasn’t in a meeting, and I reached her. Once I established she was not within earshot of anyone, I asked her a few questions.
“Why am I whipping you today, Chloe?’
“Because you want to, Master. There is no reason needed other than that.”
“That’s true. Normally that answer would totally suffice. However, today I want to probe a little deeper. Why do you think I’m whipping you today?” I continued my interrogation.
“I know I’m not being punished for misbehaving or having disappointed you. Of course, it’s not lost on me that this will be my first real whipping as your wife. I assume, you are showing me that things will not be any different now that we’re married. Yes, we are husband and wife, but are equally Master and sub, and my flesh is yours to do with as you desire. Today it is your desire to whip me.”
Chloe couldn’t have been more right. For an entire month before our wedding, we did not have sex once. It was a joint decision that both of us made. We wanted to go away on our honeymoon, absolutely dying to fuck each other again, which is precisely what happened. As such, her last whipping had been several months earlier. It was surely the longest period she’d gone without being disciplined.
Chloe and I had been together two years before we tied the knot. During that time, I dominated her using pain play at least once a month. We fit together like hand in glove. Of all the submissives I’d met or encountered in my lifetime, none were as perfect for me as Chloe. Plus, our compatibility held true outside the bedroom, as much as inside.
“What is your safeword?” I asked rather nonchalantly.
“Texas,” Chloe replied. Normally, the only time I ask her that question is when there’s a good chance she will be using it.
“And are you wet today?”
“Like a faucet,” she answered, “I’ve been wet and tingly all day.”
“A slutty little faucet, isn’t that right? Tell me what kind of faucet you are.”
“I’m a slutty little faucet,” she said. While I couldn’t see her face through the phone, I was certain she was blushing.
We hung up, and I handled a few more work emails before setting off to Private Pleasures, one of the best novelty stores in the downtown core. It was a walkable distance which allowed me much needed fresh air. I already owned a decent selection of whips and various instruments, but since this was our first scene as a married couple, I wanted a new riding crop and a flogger to commemorate the occasion.
The crop I selected had a rigid rod which thickened to form a handle. The grip was ribbed to reduce slippage. At the other end was a flexible tress, basically a leather tongue, known as a keeper. This is the end that makes contact with the submissive. The width is enough to ensure no breaking of the skin, but properly administered it delivers quite the bite!
To warm her up, I selected a light weight deer skin flogger. The strands were 18 inches long, falling from a contoured handle. This would be ideal to get her tits a nice shade of pink before the crop teaches her nipples a lesson in pain.
Last but not least, I selected a cane. Simply for my amusement, I selected what was called a ‘School Master’ cane. It was rattan, with that classic curved end that made it look like a walking cane. This thin cane was not for walking however, but rather it was intended for classroom terror, either real or implied. In our case, I’d hit Chloe with it alright, but not enough to break her skin.
I walked back to the condo slowly, enjoying the fresh air, but mostly hoping the time would pass more quickly. My three new toys were discreetly packed in brown wrapping paper. At one point, I chuckled to myself. The way the package was wrapped, it looked like I was trying to hide a rifle. Luckily, everyone was preoccupied with their own errands and interests, and no one paid me any heed.
Back home, I laid out all three instruments in a prominent spot on a desk in the den where the punishment was to occur. I wanted her to see them as soon as she walked in the room. This way, she would immediately know what was in store for her defenseless skin.
Once everything was set, I waited. Ordinarily she arrived home between 5:20 and 5:40. By 5:15 I was already waiting in the doorway of our condo, the door wide open. I wanted her to walk down the hallway and find me waiting, ready to lead the lamb to slaughter. I wasn’t waiting for longer than a few minutes before I heard the elevator doors open and close from way down the hall. Then I heard her high heels, click clicking her way toward our home. And toward me.
Her walk slowed as she noticed that our door was ajar. She approached apprehensively, her steps now a shuffle. She craned her neck and then saw me.
“Come.” I said, “You must be whipped.”
She nodded and taking a deep breath walked toward me into our lair.
I lightly kissed her while removing her clothing, letting the garments fall on the floor just inside our entranceway. She was trembling ever so slightly. I pulled back from the kiss, and brushed her hair over her shoulders. We were both aware that the door behind her was still open. While unlikely, at any second someone could walk past the hallway and see my beautiful wife’s ass. I reached over and with a flick, I closed the door. Then I led my prey toward the den, which was perfectly lit. Evening light cascaded in from a nearby window, and due to the blinds, it created that magical zebra effect.
“Are you fearful?” I asked, as we walked.
“Of course. Who wouldn’t be?”
Once in the den, I heard her gasp. I smiled. No doubt she just spotted my afternoon purchases. Chloe didn’t pull away. She was a trooper. No matter what I had planned, she would be a willing and eager submissive, happy to please her Master.
I used two short lengths of rough twine and wrapped one around each of her wrists, and then pulled them up toward the eye hooks in the ceiling. First her right wrist, and then the left. I adjusted the twine to make it taut and then tied it off.
“Are you comfortable?”
“I feel quite stretched, but I’m okay,” she said.
She was stretched. Her arms were pulled high above her head and wide apart. Her perfect breasts would rise and fall with each intake of breath. I pointed toward the three instruments, starting with the School Master cane.
“Ten,” I said tapping the curved part of the cane. “Twenty,” tapping the riding crop. “Thirty,” tapping on the flogger. Then I smiled a devilish grin. “Let’s start with the flogger, shall we?”
Chloe didn’t answer. There was no point. It was a rhetorical question. I took the flogger in hand.
*SLASH* I used a backhand swing and slashed her breasts with the flogger. Chloe yelped!
Over the next ten minutes I laid another half-dozen strikes across her tits. In no time at all her chest was pink, a deep shiny pink. The warm glow was getting more and more painful.
“Ask for the next one,” I told her.
“Please. Please Master, may I have another one?”
“Another what, where?”
“Please Master, may I have a strike of the flogger, directly…directly across my breasts?”
I delivered in spades. I slashed her tits as hard as I could with that deer skin flogger. Then I hit her again. Then again. Her nipples were now standing at attention. Rock hard. Two little pebbles atop two very pink hilltops.
*SLASH!!!* *SLASH!!!* I didn’t let up. Each swing of the flogger was as impactful as the previous one. No mercy. The whipping of my wife’s breasts wasn’t going to be lenient. Chloe was beginning to perspire. The veins in her neck where starting to show. The skin on her breasts had transitioned from pink to red, and blotches were beginning to form. I held the flogger up to her lips.
“Kiss it, little one.” She did. “Why am I whipping you tonight, Chloe?”
“You are demonstrating the nature of our relationship, Master. You own me. I’m yours. You are proving it. You are whipping your new wife, because you can. You are showing me the way it will be now that we are husband and wife.”
I wanted to tell her that her answer was lovely, but that would have been too nice of me. Instead, I pulled my arm back and slashed her tits again. She could no longer hide the pain. She screamed. The skin on her breasts was now fiery red, and surely stinging like hell. Then I whipped her again. And again.
“How many was that, slut?”
“Twenty-two, Master.”
Chloe knew that one of her responsibilities during every whipping was to count the strikes. It was never easy: enduring the pain, and during it all, concentrating enough to keep track.
“What do you think…should the next one be soft, medium or crazy-hard?” I was messing with her. This was a no-win situation. If she asks for the lenient one she disappoints me. If she asks for the hard one, she brings more intense pain onto herself. And medium – well, that’s just a cop out.
She paused, but then answered: “Crazy-hard Master. Hit me as hard as you want.”
“If you insist,” I responded. *SLASH*
By the time the thirtieth strike was over, Chloe was deep in subspace. She was in the zone. Her breasts were a crisscross of welts. Her nipples were still stiff, but the lightest touch was agony. I put the flogger down.
“Thank-you Master,” I heard from behind me.
“Thank-you? Thank-you? When do you normally say thank-you, Chloe?”
“When the whipping is over, Master. You said thirty strikes. It’s been thirty strikes.”
You should have seen the look on her face when I told her it was thirty with the flogger. She still had twenty to endure with the riding crop, and then ten with the School Master cane. She was only half-way through the whipping.
“Oh fuck,” she whispered.
I used the riding crop all over her body. I delivered a couple of wicked strikes on her inner thighs, a few directly on her tummy. I whacked the side of her thighs. I even delivered a pair on the underside of her left breast, and then, two more on the underside of her right breast. She went to the moon and back with pain after those ones.
With two strikes left, I asked her one of those no-win questions: “Where do you want these last two, on your nipples or somewhere else?”
She chose ‘somewhere else’. Her nipples were far too sore. The flogger had done its job well. She didn’t want any more mistreatment there. Poor girl. I made sure she second-guessed her decision. I made her spread her legs, and I used the tongue of the crop to smack her open pussy lips. Her clit surely took some of the impact. I swung from the ground upward, and I flicked my wrist just before the crop made contact to increase the sting.
After that, we needed a break.
I untied Chloe’s wrists and she slumped down onto the floor, landing on her knees with an audible thud. The front of her body was decorated with the attention of my first two whips. Immediately my cock, rock hard since the minute she arrived home, found its way into her mouth.
She wanted to please me so badly, her mouth devoured my manhood. She sucked my cock like it was her whole world. I’d never seen Chloe so submissive. She went down so far onto me that the head of my cock pushed deep into the back of her throat. Then, she planted a series of kisses all over the head before sucking it and bopping up and down on it. She lapped at my shaft. At one point, I used my finger tips to feed her my cock head. She was so devoted, so enthusiastic, she sucked my fingers into her mouth, alongside my cock. Her mouth was like a vacuum cleaner, happy and willing to suck anything I put in front of it.
My hands gripped her head firmly as I orgasmed, fucking her mouth aggressively as she sucked away at me. She swallowed every drop like a good girl. With her left hand she cradled my balls, while she coaxed one last dollop of cum out of my cock by squeezing my shaft the same way someone squeezes that last bit of toothpaste out of the tube.
While I will admit a part of me wanted to sweep her into my arms and tell her how much I loved her and how proud I was that she endured the first part of her whipping, I didn’t want to slip out of Dom mode. I was in heaven and wanted to keep up the momentum. So with my fingers still entangled in her hair, I lead her out of the den, and toward our bedroom.
Once in the bedroom, I pulled her up over the seating bench that was at the end of our wrought iron bed. Chloe had been on similar benches during previous sessions. Surely she knew what was coming. Her ass was my next target. I’d let her think about that while I casually walked back toward the den to retrieve the rattan cane that was certain to bring her dreadful pain and agony.
On the way back I swatted it against my hand in an even pace, making sure I did so loudly enough that she could hear it. *Swat* *Swat* *Swat* Mental torture. So much fun.
She arched her lower back, pushing her butt up into the air the way that models and porn stars do. She was giving me a perfect target, enhancing the curves of her ass to look as enticing as possible. For a second, I worried she might be too far into subspace, and that I was pushing her too far.
As if reading my mind, she encouraged me: “Punish my ass with that cane Master. I deserve it.”
Normally I don’t tolerate such topping from below, but I understood she wanted to ensure I recognized her total submission and willingness to continue. I brought the cane down hard across her ass.
*CRACK!!!*
Three more times, with breaks in between, that cane came crashing down on her ass.
*CRACK.* *CRACK* *CRACK!!*
I was expertly spacing each strike about an inch below the previous, perfectly parallel. The welts were instantly visible. Vivid red stripes, which began to swell within seconds of delivery. She would have difficulty sitting for a week after this session. I was careful not to overlap, for fear of breaking the skin.
*CRACK* *SLASH*
The seventh strike hit the back of her thighs, and she screamed.
I then took the cane and laid it to rest across her back while I went to get a glass of water. On the way to the kitchen I couldn’t help but notice how hard I was again. The blowjob had given me temporary relief, but I was ready to go again. I drank some water myself, but mostly I was here to get some for Chloe. When I held the glass to her lips, she slurped at it greedily.
I picked up the cane from its resting place on her back, and with my free hand, I rubbed her ass. I was gentle, but she jumped when my palm made contact with the welts. I could literally feel them. The skin was raised where the wood had made impact. The last strike I had delivered across the back of her thighs was so pronounced, it almost appeared bruise-like. Within a day it would be bruised, no doubt.
There were three strikes left.
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“Turn over,” I said, matter of factly. “I want to see how well your tummy can tolerate the cane.”
Without further instruction, she knew the position I desired. She knelt on the floor backing up into the bench, and then bent backward arching her back to rest her upper back on the seat. Chloe was bending like a bow – her stomach stretched in that inviting way.
I touched the cane lightly on her skin. I was about two inches above her navel. I tapped her lightly there, as if to say ‘Get ready, this is where it’s landing.’ Her breathing was labored. She was holding her breath, then sucking in air in big gasps. My poor Chloe was a nervous wreck.
“Relax, breathe evenly,” I reminded her. Then, I brought the cane down across her soft defenseless tummy. She broke position. She couldn’t help it. She screamed, and her hands began to furiously rub the welt that was rising. I was tempted to toss the cane away and end the session early when she mustered up all her energy and returned into position.
My perfect little sub apologized: “Sorry for breaking position Master. Please can I have another?”
The second strike was a repeat of the first except that it was two inches below the navel. Chloe’s reaction was also similar. There was one last strike remaining. One more and the whipping was over.
“You have a choice for the last one, Chloe. I can set aside the cane right now, but if I do so, I will fuck your ass. On the other hand, if you choose to accept the last strike, I will fuck your pussy instead. The only thing is…the last strike will be delivered directly across your nipples.”
My darling wife blinked away tears and looked confused. Her brain wasn’t functioning properly from being so deep into subspace. She was near collapse. Emotional collapse.
She slurred her words and mumbled: “Hit ‘em, hit my nipples, do it…I need your cock, hit me.”
I did. I laid that thin rattan cane directly across her nipples. She screamed louder than I’d ever heard her scream before. The whipping was over. I picked my baby up and carried her around to the bed where I laid her down gently. Her hips were gyrating with need. She was mumbling for me to fuck her.