A Condo with Two Views (8 page)

The next morning was Saturday, which was
nice since
my new
girlfriends didn’t exercise until mid-morning. I definitely had to
go today. For one thing, it would have looked bizarre and
suspicious had I not – but more importantly, I had a new idea
that
just
might work
. Jack gave me
his support, appreciating my determination. I couldn’t give up.
Until the end of the month arrived, I still had a
chance.

As
luck would have it, my second opportunity landed on the
last day of the month. Talk about cutting it close, as that was my
deadline. I had told them that Jack was out for the entire evening,
and it might be my last chance to see them. Needless to say, I was
thrilled and quite relieved when they accepted my invitation for a
second visit.

Once inside their condo, we got down to
business a little more quickly than the first time. We all knew why
I was there. This time though, I paid close attention to Shanyn’s
clothing as she undressed. When I saw where her thong landed, I put
my jeans over it. As the three of us played, I made sure to bury my
entire face into Canace’s pussy, bringing her off again and again
with my eager little tongue. Even when one droplet of her juices
ran down my chin, I didn’t wipe it off, letting it dry, hoping to
maintain as much of her bouquet as possible. Shanyn, predictably,
wanted no part of my mouth or tongue anywhere near her. We fucked
each other with a strap-on again, this time trying new
positions.

Turning my back to my hostesses and using
my jeans as cover, I tucked Shanyn’s wet thong into the pocket. I
said my goodbyes as quickly as possible, as I wanted the scent to
remain as pungent as possible when I got upstairs.

Only minutes later, standing in front of
my Master, I could feel myself blush. I was almost worried Jack
himself would find me too perverted, as I explained my idea, and
then I pulled Shanyn’s damp thong out of my pocket.
Fuck, this is so
embarrassing!

‘
All or nothing, Chloe,’
I thought to myself. I showed
him the wet spot. I held it there, letting the moment linger. My
knees were trembling. Then, I brought the sodden area of the
material up to my face, which was surely a deep hue of pink. I
spread it all over the upper half especially - knowing my mouth and
chin already smelled heavily of Canace. I felt so slutty. Yet. I
was delighted I was able to please him.

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!

*SLASH* *SLASH* I gave her two more strikes,
another strong backhand strike followed by a forehand.

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.