A Condo with Two Views (9 page)

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.

“
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.

While I carried her, I
thought about how deeply I loved her, and
how proud of her I was. I could only imagine that she wondered why
I’d been so harsh. I pushed our pain-play further than usual, but I
did so deliberately and after much consideration.
I love you Chloe. I
love you more than anything in the world.
I wasn’t about to explain why I’d been so severe.
Chloe might be hard pressed to understand, with her ass still
stinging, that my level of cruelty was as much for her, as for
me.
I did
this for both of us, my darling.
The worse thing a Dom could ever become is
predictable. The occasional harsh session would go a long way to
keeping our power exchange on edge. A true submissive craves a man
with edge. Tonight, I pushed Chloe’s boundaries, and the truth was
I pushed my own boundaries.
We talked about this baby, remember? I know it
hurt, but you get so fucking wet when I discipline you. The pain is
physical, but the pleasure emotional. I know you Chloe: you crave,
need, and want this. You live through the pain to get to the other
side. Sometimes, I will push you like I did tonight. I will cherish
you with adoring kisses my darling, but I will also rule you with a
firm hand.

In our bed, m
y cock wasn’t inside Chloe for longer than thirty
seconds, before she started cumming all over it. She wasn’t hiding
her pleasure, saying: “Oh yes..fuck, yes…I’m cumming…yes,
yesss!”

She barely caught her breath when a second
orgasm hit her. During her third orgasm, I exploded inside her.

It was the best sex I’d ever had in my
life.

Chloe’s View
:

Leaving home for work in the morning is
never fun. But leaving for work when your partner gets to stay home
is pure suffering. I was envious. He was working from home, and I
was going out in the
bustle of the workplace destined for office politics,
whining from lazy coworkers, long meetings that run even longer
than they should, and weak, free coffee. On the short commute I
wondered how Jack would spend the day. He always kidded that people
who work from home do little more than return a minimal amount of
email. I think he was generally right about that.

I work as a
paralegal in a mid-size law firm, specializing in
immigration cases and family law.

Thankfully it was a busy day, which helped
the time pass. All of the boardrooms were booked, and there was
nowhere for spontaneous last-minute gatherings. You could see
people in two’s and three’s scattered about, in any available
alcove. One thing about lawyers, they like to talk.

Whenever I had a moment of solitude, my
mind wandered to what lie ahead for me in the evening. I was to be
whipped. I couldn’t help but think of how absurd, and frankly, how
disturbing most of my colleagues would find such a thing. As
lawyers they would surely argue that I was somehow coerced. They’d
never in a million years believe how dripping wet my slutty
masochistic cunt was at the prospect of being whipped. By noon, I
practically needed to change my undies they were so wet.

There was no need to buy lunch on a day
like today. The kitchen was filled with excess food from the
various meetings. One of the assistants had ordered too much sushi
for one meeting. Plus, there was a tray of cakes and cookies from
Starbucks that had been leftover from another, and a big platter of
freshly sliced fresh fruit from yet another. I poked and prodded at
a few things, but kept it light. As much as I welcomed my impending
punishment, I was nervous too.

Back in my semi-private cubicle, my phone
rang. Call display revealed Jack Gibb. My loving
husband.

There was no ‘Hello’, no
‘H
ow’s your day’,
instead a cold heartless question: “Why am I whipping you today,
Chloe?”

At first I answered that it was his choice,
and that was reason enough. However, he demanded further
clarification so I explained that no real reason was necessary. I
was his wife now, so he was laying the groundwork for our life
together. He seemed more content with my fleshed out answer.

As s
oon as I hung up the phone, I headed for the ladies room. I
couldn’t take it anymore. I had to cum. I simply had to cum. I was
so aroused, I could barely think. I sat on the toilet seat, and
with two fingers I started to rub my squishy wet clit. Needless to
say, I was practically dripping. I replayed the phone conversation
with Jack in my mind – especially the part where he made me admit
to being a slutty little faucet. In less than 60 seconds, I was
cumming all over my fingers like a whore in heat. Oh fuck, that
felt good. I brought my fingers up to my mouth so I could taste my
muskiness. I needed to do this. I had to take some of the edge
away. I also knew, on a day like today, the arousal would be
constant and relentless. By the time I got home for my whipping,
I’d be just as horny again. This was only a temporary respite. I
wouldn’t tell Jack about my quick orgasm, there was no need to. Not
that he’d mind. Unless I was specifically ordered to refrain from
masturbating, I was allowed to give myself little pleasure-quickies
whenever I wanted.