Eventually she was crying real tears, but no longer struggling. He had literally beaten the fight out of her. Her ass was a deep crimson, and he could already see the beginnings of bruising on her delicate skin. Instead of melting his heart, this just seemed to inflame him more. He realized his cock was rock hard, so hard it hurt. It needed release. Well, this whore should satisfy that need. He flipped her off his lap, letting her fall on the bed. She was still crying, but softly now.
Pulling off his clothes, letting his impossibly hard cock out of its cotton cage, he started to lie across her, as he always had, missionary style. But something in him made him flip her onto her hands and knees. “You act like a bitch; I'll treat you like one. Fuck you like the bitch in heat you are!” He slammed into her pussy, which was still wet from that bastard in the shower. “This—is—what—you—need!” Each word was punctuated by a brutal thrust into her pussy. He fucked her hard, grunting and sweating over her, pulling her by the hair, using her roughly.
He was raping her! Her own husband had just beaten her and now he was raping her. Jill's mind was outraged; horrified. But her body was in ecstasy. That wetness hadn't been for Sean. It was for Barry, and for what was happening to her. She didn't understand it, but she knew she loved it. Something opened inside of her, some secret Pandora's Box of lust and need, and Barry was indeed giving her exactly, just exactly, what she needed.
Chapter Two
Punishment
"You can expect my call at 10:00.” Barry looked down on his wife, who was still tangled in the bed sheets, her face clouded with sleep. “We'll discuss things then.” Jill nodded, and Barry bent down to kiss her cheek. He felt desire surge through him, but he controlled it, and left her to drift back to sleep.
The night before had astounded them both. Barry's rage had subsided with his orgasm. He sort of ‘came to’ and realized what he was doing. But Jill had clung to him, holding him so tightly he eventually gently pried her hands from him. She wouldn't look at him at first, but when he forced her chin up, the look he saw was not what he expected.
She was gazing at him, her eyes large and wet, with something bordering on adoration. He was confused, having been ready to apologize for his crazy behavior. He couldn't explain it, even to himself. The lust that had been initially driven by anger had carried them both to orgasms so intense they had fallen together, hearts pounding, their mingled sweat a sheen on their bodies. And now her expression as she gazed at him was nothing less than rapturous. In his anger and his pain, he had meant to punish her, to make her suffer. But instead, she seemed to be thanking him with her eyes, to be caressing him with her gaze.
"What?” he began, but she silenced him with a finger to his lips.
"Sh, don't say anything. Thank you. Thank you, sir"
Sir? What did she mean by that? Was she making fun of him? But her expression said otherwise. He was confused, but pleased somehow. Yes, it had felt wonderful to put the little bitch in her place. She had definitely deserved what she got. And her response when he fucked her doggy style had been so intense it had driven him to use her more roughly than he had ever dared. He had thought he was debasing her by fucking her like a common slut. But now she was thanking him. And calling him sir.
He sat up, naked, next to her on the bed. Jill scrambled to her knees next to him, and then slipped down between his legs, kneeling in front of him, sore red ass resting against her heels. She began to kiss the tops of his thighs, moving down to his knees and finally to his feet. She was kissing his feet! What was happening? Slowly it dawned on Barry that she was thanking him for raping her! Without using the words which would have been too embarrassing at that point for her to say, she was thanking him for taking her in hand at last.
Barry felt his cock, which at any other time in the past would have been spent until at least the next night, stirring with interest. The little slut was on her knees kissing his feet! He felt a surge of power that made his cock go fully erect. He dared to take a chance and said, “And what do you have to say for yourself, Jill?” He made his voice stern. She looked up at him, eyes wide like a child's, but she didn't answer.
"Hmm? I asked you a question. Answer me when I talk to you. And stand up. I want to see what I did to your ass.” Jill stood up, her long body gracefully unfolding, and slowly she turned around. Her bottom was still red, and little purple bruises were beginning to form. Barry sucked in his breath, shocked at himself that he could have inflicted this on his wife, on the love of his life. But his cock said otherwise, as it strained and bobbed at attention.
As Jill turned slowly to face him she whispered, “I deserved it, sir. Thank you, sir.” If he had demanded further explanation at that point, she wouldn't have been able to give it. She didn't yet fully understand it herself. But she realized with sudden clarity that what each of the men she had fooled around with had had in common was a certain cocky sureness. They knew what they wanted and they took it. They didn't ask her permission or wait for her response. They each in their own way had ‘claimed’ her, in a primal reenactment of man taking woman.
She hadn't known this was what she needed. She only knew that what Barry had offered was never quite enough. He was too solicitous. And so predictable. But tonight! At first when he was spanking her she was outraged. Helpless in his strong grip, she had been humiliated and horrified to find herself being spanked like some naughty child. And then it really began to hurt! But at the same time, something began to transmute inside of her. The sting of the spanking seemed to send sparks of fire directly to her pussy. Her entire body began to tingle with desire. Even as she continued to struggle and cry out, a part of her was on fire with lust.
When he had finally let her up, only to slam his cock into her sopping cunt, she had exploded almost immediately in an orgasm that just seemed to go on and on as he mercilessly fucked her, his balls slapping her very sore, hot ass. When they fell together at last, she experienced an intense emotion that could best be described as gratitude. It was as if he had unlocked something in her that she thought was dead or broken. She felt more alive than she ever had in her life. She felt it like a lovely weight on her, a mantel of love that swelled and broke over her in waves as she knelt naked on the ground, kissing his feet in a literal and symbolic gesture of servitude and adoration.
Finally he had held out his arms to her, and she had climbed into them, curling against his chest as she drifted off to a deeply contented sleep. Barry had laid awake next to her for some time, musing over what could only be described as the oddest night of his life. He had to admit that he liked seeing her kneeling there, naked and vulnerable, kissing his feet, and then displaying her body for him at his command. And calling him sir. He had to admit, he liked her doing that. He liked the implication that she was somehow subservient to him.
He knew about this stuff, this S&M stuff with masters and slaves. He'd even been to a few BDSM sites and chat rooms online. But it had all been posturing, he thought. Silly play by silly people pretending to dominate and submit to each other in cyberspace. Definitely not for him. But this didn't seem like play. Whatever had happened between them had been real. And sexy. God, it was sexy.
He had never felt so powerful, so alive! All his life had been spent bending over backward to respect women and treat them like fine china. Maybe that was his mistake? Maybe that's why girls seemed to end up dumping him? And even Jill, though she had married him, had always seemed to hold a part of herself back, away from him; off limits. But something had happened last night. All his carefully controlled behaviors had been blown apart by his own rage and then his own lust.
And her response had been so intense. She had clearly loved what was happening! From the initial despair he had felt when seeing his wife yet again with another man, he now felt hopeful. Yes, that was the word. Hope mixed with something else that he realized was passion. He passionately loved Jill, but realized that until this night, he had never expressed that passion in a way she could really feel. Was this the be
ginning for them? The beginning of a new relationship where he was ‘sir’ and she was his sex slave? He finally drifted off to fevered dreams with visions of his wife kneeling at his feet.
At precisely 10:00 the phone rang. Jill was awake and dressed. She had made the bed and straightened up, throwing out the champagne bottle and retrieving her sundress from the kitchen floor. She couldn't stop thinking about what had happened the night before. Barry was like a new man in her eyes. A stranger, but a sexy and exciting stranger who was going to give her what she never even knew she needed. She hadn't been able to settle down to any task that morning. She had been nervous, too nervous to eat. When the phone rang, she jumped, and then rushed to pick up the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Jill."
"Yes,” she whispered, her stomach fluttering crazily.
"How are you today?"
"Me? Oh, um, I'm fine.” She felt like an idiot, a tongue-tied teenage idiot.
"Good. I've been doing some thinking. About you. About your behavior. About what we need to do about it.” Jill was silent. “There are going to be some changes. You are going to have to earn your way back into my trust. And you are going to have to do it my way. You are going to have to obey me. To trust me and to do what I tell you. That's your choice. Or else I don't want you anymore, Jill. I don't want a slut that fucks every repairman that comes around. Do you understand, Jill?"
"Yes,” she whispered.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir.” Just the words sent a little spasm of pleasure through her pussy.
"Good. The first thing we'll do is set some ground rules. We'll discuss them tonight. As I said last night, you are no longer my wife. You are my property. I own you. Do you understand?"
God. Even his voice was different. Not the sweet gentle, almost wheedling tone he seemed to use when he spoke to her, but a new confident voice. Deeper and more sure. Property! She should be outraged. But she wasn't. She was intrigued. Again she responded with a yes sir and he went on.
"Now, this afternoon, I want you to log on to a site I've found for novices like you. It's called subspace.com. I want you to go there and read everything you see. Take your time. Think about what you are reading. We'll talk it over tonight when I get home."
When they hung up, Barry swiveled back to his computer. His office was large and with the door closed he had complete privacy. Instead of earning billable hours, this morning he had spent his time cruising the Internet, checking for suitable sites to begin to learn about what they had experienced last night, and how he could capitalize on it with Jill. He had read all about Bondage and Discipline and Dominance and Submission. He spent some time in a chat room ‘for Doms Only,’ discussing and asking questions about slave training. A lot of it seemed silly and contrived, as he had thought before when cursorily checking out the sites. But not all of it.
He met a man online who told him about several good reference books and sites where he could learn as he went, teaching himself while he trained his wife. He was excited and intrigued. He wanted this. And he was pretty sure Jill wanted it too. He had never seen her so responsive, so eager to please him. So submissive. That was the word! She had behaved submissively toward him, and it was a huge turn on. The possibilities, oh God, they were endless. He couldn't wait to get home and begin their new life. But first he had a few purchases to make.
That evening Jill met Barry at the door. She was wearing a pale yellow dress which offset her creamy tan and dark eyes. Opening the door as he came up the walk, she smiled shyly at him. He strode in, setting a rather large package on the front hall table, forgoing the usual kiss he gave to her cheek. Instead he said, “Lift up your dress."
"What?” Jill was confused, nonplussed.
"I said lift up your dress. Do it. Now.” Jill did as he ordered, revealing a white lacy bra and panties, and a tan flat belly. “Take off your bra and panties. No undergarments from now on unless I say so, and then only what I pick. Come on, move. Do as you're told."
Jill's face was flushing a nice pink, but she did as he said, reaching behind her back to unclasp the bra, and then sliding it through a sleeve. Next she stepped out of her underwear. She stood for a moment uncertainly, holding the little silk garments.
"Give them to me.” She did so, feeling a little electric current when their fingers brushed. “Good. That's better. Now don't forget that rule. No panties without permission. Bring me some wine and we'll sit on the porch a while before dinner."
Barry went to change and Jill went thoughtfully to the kitchen, feeling nervous and edgy with anticipation. She had spent several hours, as instructed, on that subspace site and other sites that it had led her to. She talked with several ‘submissives’ who lived the life ‘24/7’ as they explained to her. The overriding thing she noticed with each woman was their deep sense of serenity and satisfaction. They loved being owned and seemed to live for the moment they next saw their master. And some of these weren't stupid woman. One was a medical doctor and one was a banker. One was a mother of three. They were mature intelligent women who knew what they wanted, and more importantly, had it! She was fascinated by their stories, though still not certain it had much to do with her. But she was willing to listen, and eager to learn.
On the porch, Jill handed Barry his wine. She started to sit on the chair next to his but he said, “No. Be careful how you sit. Sluts like you have to lift their dress before they sit. There's a book called, ‘The Story of O.’ Have you heard of it?
She had. She was surprised that he had! She had read it in high school, giggling nervously over a copy she and her girlfriend had found in her girlfriend's mother's nightstand. She remembered it, and she remembered that O had to sit on barstools in public places with her bare ass touching the stool. She remembered agreeing aloud with her friend that the book was perverted and sick, but secretly she had been excited by it. She had never thought to apply the fantasy to herself; it seemed too far fetched, too bizarre. Not something a feminist like herself could possibly entertain. She had simply let it go. But now she remembered and she nodded. Barry raised his eyebrows, as if surprised that she had heard of it. This morning was the first time he became aware of it, as his new friend, Paul, told him a synopsis of the tale.
Barry took a long drink of his wine as he stared out at the bay, watching the setting sun turn the water turquoise, purple and gray. “Jill, I want to talk about us. About how I see us going forward. This isn't an ultimatum from me. I don't want to force anything on you. But you do have to understand that I can't bear to have a wife who cheats on me, who treats me like shit by fucking other guys. And no...” He stopped her as she started to protest, to apologize, to explain. “No, hush. Listen to me. I forgive you. I've been thinking a lot about it, and Jill, it isn't any more your fault than it is mine. I realize now I haven't been giving you what you want. What you need. I'm not sure you even know exactly what you need, but it sure wasn't whatever I was offering.” Again she started to protest, and again he shushed her.
"Please, Jill. Let me talk. I want to tell you how I see things. Where I see our relationship going. And I want your input on this. I know I said I ‘own’ you, but of course you know that doesn't mean anything at all unless you want it to. This isn't about me taking you by force, caveman style, to keep you in place. I don't understand it all yet, but I think this is about some deep seated need inside of both of us, that neither of us really knew was there. This is our chance to find out. To explore. To take chances. And frankly,” he was speaking so quietly now she had to lean in to hear him, “I don't think we're going to make it together otherwise."
When Jill spoke, her voice was low and measured, not the higher pitched girlish tone she often adopted with her husband. “Tell me, Barry. I want to hear it. I don't know how to say this. God, I'm embarrassed to even try, but something happened to us last night. When the world should have been crashing around our ears, our marriage falling in ruins, instead, it's like something new and wonderful is being born!
I'm confused about it, but I'm so grateful and relieved to see it isn't just me. You felt something too! You're different.” She paused and looked out at the bay. “I went to the site like you said, you know."
"Yes? Tell me."
"I was really intrigued. Excited. I want to learn more. To understand. Do you think I'm a total pervert? That I liked what you did last night? That it turned me on? That it made me come so hard?"
"God, no! It isn't something I fully understand yet either, but talking to those people today, online, I learned a lot too. What we both seem to be feeling is something apparently a lot of people feel. A lot of people. Just think about how many BDSM sites there are out there! Some of them have over a million members! That's a million people like you and me, with something in our natures that makes us want to try this new lifestyle. I know I do. I hope you do."
"I want to hear what you have to say, Barry. I want to learn too. Teach me."
Barry smiled, relieved at her response, having worried all day that he had gone too far both last night and this morning on the phone. “Ok. Here's the thing. I've been reading up on this. Yeah, I know, once a lawyer, always a lawyer. Anyway, I have some ideas and I want to try them out with you. I think what we are entering now is a pact. A pact between master and the slave.” Barry paused, looking a little sheepish. He felt a little silly using the terms ‘master’ and ‘slave’ although if he were honest with himself, it was exciting as well. To be Jill's master. To control all aspects of her life, most especially her sexual behavior. But aloud he said, “I prefer to think of us as lovers, and I am the dominant lover, while you are the submissive one. You will obey me. You can call me Barry still, of course, or you can call me sir.” He smiled a little self-consciously, but Jill was listening with rapt attention, her whole body tensed toward him, as if she could hear him, absorb his words through her skin.
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