by Dan Moran
After a few minutes of this, Justine stopped, crawled on top of me, and came out from the blankets once more. Some of her hair was stuck to her forehead with sweat, and she gasped a little at the fresh air. I held her face and kissed her, long and deep, and put my arms around her lower back. She moved my arms above my head, pinning them there, and delicately licked at my left nipple, kissing all around it and then sucking it between her teeth, treating me to more of her wonderful tongue. I moaned and thrust my chest forward, and she moved to my right nipple, then kissed me on the mouth once again.
I pulled her up my body slightly, kissing her collarbone, her throat, licking her neck. I blew hot breath in her left ear and grabbed her ass with both hands, and she let out a soft “oh.” My fingers traced intricate designs on her back, sliding gently just over the surface, and I slowly squirmed my way further down in the bed.
Now her breasts were directly above me, and I kissed between them, the ribs under them, all around them. I brought my kisses inward in slow spirals toward her nipples, gripping her ass again and then caressing the backs of her thighs. Her legs spread, and her crotch ground against my stomach. I could already feel the hot wetness against my skin. I lifted my head quickly and took a nipple in my mouth, sucking and nibbling with vigor. I let go of her legs and fondled her breasts as I sucked them, alternating nipples with my mouth and fingering whichever one I was not sucking, my fingertips sliding gently in the saliva, sometimes tapping or pinching softly with my thumb.
She panted as I slid further down, keeping my hands on her breasts and playing with her nipples while my tongue trailed down her soft-skinned belly. Wriggling even further, entirely under the blankets now, I slid my face down between her legs. Her juices were flowing and dripped onto my waiting tongue, and I commenced licking firmly with long, strong laps that pushed her lips apart and made her cry out. I took my hands off her breasts and held her by the ass, pulling her into my face and eating furiously. In a few moments, her slight bucking stopped, and her sweet pink flesh trembled and twitched on the end of my tongue.
I wriggled back up the bed; Justine held herself up with her arms, head down, eyes closed, panting from her orgasm. I kissed her cheek, her forehead, her chin, and stroked her hair. She responded by kissing me firmly, driving her tongue deep into my mouth, then going for my nipples once again. She reached back behind her and felt the fullness of my erection, caressed my balls. Then she gripped my shaft and slid down and back, guiding me into her. There was a moment of pause as she aimed my dick, and I felt the head rub around the slickness of her opening. Then she sank back down, and I was engulfed by her, groaning “Aaaaaahhhhhh” as I buried myself in her hot wetness.
My hands roved all over her back, her ass, as I began short thrusts. I used my nails a little on her back, and she raked hers against my sides, then raised her sweat-damp torso from mine so she could make her hands into claws and very slowly drag them across my chest. I winced with the delightful pain of her nails ever so slightly tearing my skin, loving the sensation. I moved my hips more quickly, feeling the ache in my balls build rapidly and hoping she would not make this another “I forbid you to come” morning.
Lucky for me, she did not. She gyrated her hips more quickly to keep time with my banging from beneath, and as I made the tell-tale moans that told her I was going to come, she suddenly pinched both my nipples and tugged on the tender flesh.
“Nnngggh!” I grunted, feeling the pain and simultaneously shooting my sperm in short, powerful spurts into her. She let go of my nipples as she felt me come, dropping her head to muffle my cries with a tongue-filled kiss. Then we both went limp, and she raised herself off of my cock and rolled over onto her back, heaving deep sighs of satisfied exhaustion. I did the same.
“Wow,” I said after some moments. “That was great.”
“Yes,” she said, smiling and turning her head toward me. She caressed my cheek. “But now I’m starving. Let’s make breakfast.”
After our usual morning meal and my usual washing of dishes—this time with clothes on—Justine told me the house needed vacuuming. She sat on the couch in the living room and shook a small bottle of nail polish. “And of course,” she said, “I want you to do it without any clothes on. I’m going to sit here and do my nails, and I want to watch you vacuum naked, at least while you’re in here. You can’t put on clothes to do the rest of the house, either, because I’ll probably walk around and check on your progress. Do a good job and I promise you’ll be rewarded.”
I stripped, got the vacuum cleaner, and started with the living room, Justine looking up occasionally and smiling at me as I worked the rugs. I continued with the rest of the house, and she did in fact come look at me a few times in various rooms. It took about an hour, and when I was finished and put the vacuum cleaner away, I looked for Justine.
I found her in the bedroom wearing her red shoes again, walking around in them and admiring how they looked. She also held the red and black crop in her right hand. “Oh good,” she said as I entered, looking up from her shoes. “You’re done vacuuming.”
“Yes,” I said, standing naked before her and feeling newly inspired.
“Now come stand here in the middle of the room,” she said. I moved to the spot, and she told me to touch the ceiling. Our upstairs ceilings are low enough (and I am tall enough) so that I can touch them easily with my fingers and with my palms if I stand on my toes. I stretched my arms over my head.
“Good,” she said, walking around me, caressing my back and my chest with her left hand, flipping the crop lightly in the air with her right. “Now, spread your legs apart a bit.”
I shuffled my feet apart slightly, paused, then moved them a little further when Justine said, “Come on, keep going...” The farther apart they moved, of course, the lower I sank and the harder it was to keep my hands on the ceiling. When my feet were well past shoulder-width apart and my arms strained to keep touching the ceiling, she said, “There. That’s about right.”
I stopped, somewhat glad, and my heart beat fast. I found that I loved being stretched out naked for my wife’s enjoyment. “Now,” she said, “I’m going to use the crop on you. I want to see how you do with it after you’ve come. I know you love it when you’re working toward orgasm, but I want you to know that I can spank you or whip you any time, not just when you’re turned on. I want you to know that I can have you naked and spread any time I want and can punish you however I see fit.” She touched the underside of my chin with the tip of the crop, using it to raise my head. “Understand?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said with shaky breath. Naturally, I could just say “blue” any time I wanted and make it all stop, but why the hell would I? I was already growing stiff again from her desire to have my naked body at her complete disposal.
“Good,” she said and walked behind me. I started to turn my head a little to keep looking at the wonderful sight of her, but she suddenly said, “Face forward! Don’t you turn around!” And with that, the first hard slash of the crop cut my ass, making me yelp slightly.
“I’m sorry,” I said through my smile.
“Oh, yes you are,” she said. “I’ll show you sorry. How about 10 strokes on your bare ass? How would that be for sorry?”
“Ye—Ow!” The first one landed just as I was about to agree. Apparently, she wasn’t waiting. A second whiissh! brought a fresh sting to both buttocks, and an immediate third stung me with the tip of the crop high on my left cheek.
“Aaaahhh,” I moaned in a pleased whisper.
The next swat struck low on my right cheek, and the next hit the exact same spot, which made me cry “Yooowww!” as the stinging doubled in intensity. I was still deep in this sensation when the tip hit me higher on that same side. The next swish! landed the crop’s tip right in the center of my left bun.
The remaining strokes all hit with the shaft of the crop, slashing both buns simultaneously. They were fast and steady, and the burn was intense, and in spite of what I knew, I reach
ed back with my left hand and rubbed my ass, wincing.
“Oh-HO!” said Justine. “Not only did I tell you to keep your hands on the ceiling, but you know the rule about rubbing your sore bottom! Yet you defy me. Well, I’ll just have to add to the punishment. Furthermore, to show you how serious I am about the rules, we’re going to start over with your 10 strokes. Those other ones don’t count, and I’ll have to begin again. Maybe this time you’ll know better than to interfere with the punishment you so richly deserve. Now get your hand back up!”
I reached for the ceiling once more, clenching my teeth in anticipation of another 10 strokes. They began at once and were fast, which I suppose was better, since it would be over more quickly. Yes, I did love all of this, but it still hurt, and halfway through the second set of 10, I had to struggle very hard to keep my hands in place and my feet where they were and not to leap forward to get my ass away from that delicious yet sinister crop.
“There!” she said as she gave me the final agonizing stripe across my ass. I panted and gritted my teeth as I felt the heat in my whipped flesh.
“Now,” she said, and her voice became gentle once again, “you can put your hands down for a moment. Rest. Take some breaths. I will also permit you to rub your ass now, if you want, but just for a few moments.”
I did this, soothing the sting briefly. Justine walked around me some more, caressing me all over but not on my ass. After about a minute, she said, “Okay. Hands back up.”
I did as instructed, my muscled frame taught and trembling for her pleasure once more. “Now I’m going to try something a little different,” she said caressingly. “I want to see just how much you love this crop.”
Then she slapped my chest lightly with its tip. She tapped it against my belly next, and then on a different part of my chest. She moved to one side and tapped my ribs several times, moving up and down. The crop gave only the slightest sting with her light strokes, not nearly as much as she had used on my ass, and it brought me into sharp focus, really feeling and thinking about each part of my body that she touched with it. She circled me slowly, smacking lightly against my lower back, my shoulders, my ribs again, more of my chest. I breathed harder and furrowed my brow, not feeling that much pain, loving the attention she bestowed upon my flesh. She changed angles, tapping with the crop horizontal, then with it diagonal, sometimes using the tip and sometimes the shaft. Sometimes she just caressed me with it. When she did this to the insides of my thighs, I grew hard again. She smiled. She placed the tip of the crop just under my stiffening cock, raising it a little, rubbing the shaft with the cool leather.
“Oohh,” I said, and she lowered the crop and let my cock drop a little. She tapped it lightly again from beneath, flicking my dick up again, then letting it flop down.
“Oooo, this is fun,” she said through a smile as she tapped quickly and lightly against my erection, making it dance slightly in the air.
“Yes, it is...” I whispered, “but my arms are getting tired.”
“Oh, poor you,” she said with mock sarcasm. “OK, we’re almost done here. Just hold still.” She stopped using the crop to play with my dick and held it upright in her hand, standing before me. She flicked it lightly against my right nipple. Then she did it again, just a little harder. She gave several more taps, rapid and increasing in pressure, until at the 10th or so I said “Ahhww!”
She grinned and then repeated the process on the other nipple. Then she went back and forth, whipping each nipple, always starting softly but increasing the strength of her flicks until I cried out. My nipples had been through a lot that morning, and I was on the verge of considering shouting “Blue!” when Justine suddenly stopped and said, “Okay, you can put your hands down and stand normally.”
I let my arms drop, feeling the ache in my shoulder muscles from holding them up so long, a pain comparable to the feeling after several sets of pressing heavy dumbbells over my head at the gym. I strode over to the bed and dove onto it face first, still feeling the sting in my butt. Then it occurred to me that I had only repeated the first 10 strokes; I hadn’t yet been punished for taking my hand off the ceiling or for rubbing my buns. I turned around and, as always, she seemed to have read my thoughts and was a step ahead of me.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll get around to the rest of your strokes. But we’re taking a break now. You need to get dressed and go to the store; we have a long grocery list.”
As it turned out, when I got back from shopping, Justine told me that we wouldn’t continue with my strokes that day. She’d thought about it while I was out and decided that my butt had received enough for one day, even for the whole weekend. I told her that I was fine, but she insisted. And she was, after all, the boss in these matters. In any case, that evening we ended up renting a movie, and while still on the couch, we made mad love once again, so I was by no means disappointed.
***
My ass had stopped hurting by the next day, Sunday, and by Tuesday, all visible traces of the crop were gone as well. I wondered how long I’d have to wait for more swats, and what instrument Justine would use to deliver them, and what position I’d be in. She had surprised me by switching from the over-the-lap method we’d begun with when I first brought up the idea of her spanking me. I was amazed at her innovation and at her research into the scene. She actually seemed to be enjoying the punishments now, instead of just spanking me because I pleaded with her to do so. It was an unexpected transformation, and it made me incredibly hot just thinking about it.
When I got home on Thursday, Justine was there, her work day ending slightly before mine. She was thumbing through our box of recipe cards. “What should we have?” she asked, and I kissed her and stood behind her, hugging her tightly as I looked over her shoulder at the recipes. We decided on one, and she said, “Good. But before we start, come upstairs.” She kissed me and walked across the kitchen.
I moved to follow her, and she turned around and said, “But get undressed first. Just put your clothes in the office. I want you naked when you come into the bedroom.”
By the look in her smiling eye and the saucy lilt in her voice, I knew I was in for the remainder of my spanking, that I would have to take my punishment right then, and my balls tingled at the thought. I eagerly undressed and scattered my clothes all over the hall in my haste to get upstairs and place my ass in my wife’s capable, loving hands.
When I opened the door and looked at the bed, I paused, suddenly unsure.
There was a short length of rope attached to each corner of the bed. One end of each rope was affixed to a bedpost, but the other had a loop with some kind of knot, and they lay out neatly, just waiting for me. I felt a slight sinking in my stomach, and my throat was dry.
“Come on,” Justine insisted, pulling me the rest of the way into the room by one wrist and shutting the door behind me. “Let’s go. No stalling. You’ve had this coming, and now you have to take it. On the bed, face down.”
I walked forward very slowly, wondering. I’d never done anything like this before.
“Move it!” said Justine, slapping my ass hard with her palm. “Do as I say!”
I crawled onto the bed, lying on my stomach. Justine moved to my left and said, “Now give me your hand.” I reluctantly reached my left hand out to her, and she grabbed it and worked one loop of rope over my wrist. Then she slid the knot up until it was snug. “Try moving it,” she said, returning to her softer voice. I pulled a little, felt the tug, then pulled a little harder. I shook my hand as much as I could, but it didn’t move much. “Does the rope hurt?” she asked gently.
“No,” I said in a choking voice. My whole body trembled with fearful anticipation, but of course I was also excited and in a kind of numb bewilderment.
She walked around to the other side of the bed. “Other hand,” she demanded, holding out her own hand. I placed my wrist into her grip, and she soon had that hand secure in its loop. Then she moved to the foot of the bed, and this time she didn�
�t ask for me to give her my feet, she just grabbed them and fit them snugly into the ropes. Then she stood back.
“Now that is a sight I love to see,” she said. “My husband naked and tied to the bed, spread out and helpless. Now, my love, your ass is mine.”
And this was true. I wasn’t stretched out to the point of pain or anything, but I certainly couldn’t move much. With my chin resting on a pillow, I couldn’t even turn around to see what kind of expression was on her face. I heard her walking around, and soon she came up next to me, holding out the crop for me to see, placing its tip just inches in front of my face. My penis swelled against the bed with nervous excitement.
“Remember this?” she asked. “Remember how I told you to keep your hands on the ceiling, and how you disobeyed?”
“Yes,” I said shakily.
“And do you remember,” she continued, “that one of my very first rules about spanking you was that you were not allowed to touch your butt or try to soothe the pain in any way? How you just had to take the pain I gave you—that you asked me to give you—without questioning or trying to change it?”
“Yes,” I repeated.
“Well, now you seem to remember. But for a moment there, you forgot. You forgot all about the rules and about how lucky you are to have a wife who spanks you and about how if you want your spankings, you need to obey me. You seemed to have a problem listening. Your hands just did what they wanted in spite of my instructions.”
“Yes,” I said. “I was very bad.”
“Oh, yes you were,” she agreed. “And since your hands seem to have a mind of their own, I’ve decided to restrain them. I’ve restrained your whole naked body, so now you have to take your punishment, even if you don’t want to.” She slid the tip of the crop slowly down my spine and began caressing my ass with it. “Now you will hold still, and I can do whatever I want to this ass.”
I ground my hips a little, rubbing my engorged cock against the bed. I was incredibly turned on in spite of my fear, which surprised me a little. After all, I had never been restrained before, had never even come close to doing this. I was not used to being bound. But the blood pounding in my genitals was a clear sign of how much my body really loved it.