Pound of Flesh (2 page)

The rest of the room was dotted with erotic
furniture custom designed and built by one of Max’s friends, an
active member of their local BDSM scene and well-known high-end
furniture maker. Each piece of hand-crafted wood and metal was
unique, functional and beautiful. A saw horse. Houdini’s box.
Bondage chair. Stocks. St. Andrew’s Cross. An exam table. The
spanking horse.

Max’s gaze settled on Violet’s kneeling form.
Like a well-trained submissive, she kept her eyes down, her chin
lifted just so. She hadn’t looked around when he entered the room
or allowed her gaze even the briefest of flicks toward him. In her
moments of complete obedience, Max found her so alluring. There was
just something enthralling in the way his usually feisty wife
submitted so perfectly, so freely. She fueled his hunger for
domination.

He slowly crossed the room, deliberately
keeping his eyes off of her. She wanted his attention, needed his
attention, and denying what she craved was an easy way to show his
displeasure. He stopped at the end table by the sofa and placed his
glass on one of the ceramic coasters before heading to the armoire.
He took a plush hand towel from one of the drawers and dried the
condensation clinging to his hand.

Tossing aside the towel, he rummaged through
the odds and ends in the same drawer until he found the small
collection of elastic hair ties. He stretched the black band
between his fingers and walked toward Violet. Eyes still downcast,
she breathed a bit faster, a bit shallower. Her excitement was
palpable. A flush of redness colored her olive skin. Her pebbled
nipples stood erect. There were goose bumps on her skin, whether
from the slight chill in the air or her anticipation of what was to
come, he couldn’t tell.

He stretched his fingers wider, causing the
elastic hair band to slide down to his wrist. Standing behind her,
Max sifted his callused fingers through Violet’s silky strands of
coffee-colored hair, gathering them together at the back of her
head. He loved the long strands of hair but they often got into the
way if left loose. There was a time and place for her wild curls
and waves but definitely not around swinging paddles and canes and
ropes and rings.

With the high ponytail in place, Max allowed
his hands to drift down the sides of her face and neck to rest on
her shoulders. He gently massaged the soft skin along the curve of
her neck. “Violet?”

“Yes, sir?” She held perfectly still as she
answered and kept her gaze focused on the floor.

“Didn’t I leave you instructions for keeping
house? Didn’t I leave you a list of duties and a schedule of
routines?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why didn’t you follow them?” He caressed her
bare skin with gentleness, kept his touch feather light and
teasing.

“I don’t know, sir.”

“You don’t know?” He repeated her words just
a few decibels above a whisper. “I think you’re playing a game. I
think you were deliberately trying to provoke me. Do you think I
enjoy disobedience?”

“No, sir.”

“Do you think I wanted to come home to find
my bratty little sub had turned my home into a filthy pigsty?”

“No, sir.”

“Do you think I wanted to come home after
weeks of backbreaking hard work and grueling training exercises to
clean up your messes?”

“No, sir.”

“Would you like to know what I wanted?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I wanted to come home, take a long, hot bath
with you and make love all night.” He paused, letting her imagine
what that evening could have been like. “Would you have liked
that?”

“Oh, yes, sir! Very much, sir.”

“So would I,” he replied. “I would have liked
that very much. Instead I’m forced to deal with your outrageous
misbehavior.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” Her voice was barely above
a whisper. He sensed she felt rather guilty for her little stunt
after he laid out his plans for their first night together in
weeks. Whatever her motives for getting what she wanted, she hadn’t
considered his needs.

“I don’t think you are, Violet.” He took his
hands away from her shoulders and stepped back. He moved to stand
in front of her. Taking her chin in hand, Max tilted Violet’s face
up toward his. The sight of tear shimmering in her eyes made his
stomach clench. Starting off a session with his sub already in
tears? This was going to be an interesting scene.

Max held her teary gaze. “You’ve been a very
bad girl, Violet.”

“Yes, sir,” she agreed wholeheartedly.

“How can I make sure you’re really sorry
about what you’ve done, Violet?”

She swallowed hard. A tear dripped down her
cheek. “Punish me, sir. Punish me hard, sir.”

Max caressed her cheek. A smile played upon
his lips. “I think I will, Violet. I think I’ll have my pound of
flesh.”

He bent down and brushed his lips across
hers. She gave a kittenish mewl of pleasure and pressed closer. He
denied Violet the deep kiss she craved and straightened. “Get on
the horse, Violet.”

She rose quickly but gracefully and took a
few steps to the spanking horse. It was a simple contraption, built
much like a tall sawhorse, with a center rail padded in leather.
Usually, Max preferred for Violet to mount the horse with her legs
on either side of the padded rail, her back straight and face
pressed to the polished wood. Tonight, he had different plans.

“No,” he said, stopping her before she could
swing a leg over the center rail. “I want you to bend over the rail
until your fingers touch the floor.”

Judging by the fleeting look of distaste on
her face, Violet didn’t like that instruction one bit. He couldn’t
blame her. In that position, with her head down and ass in the air,
she’d be stretched tight and rather uncomfortable. That was the
point, of course. This wasn’t a sensual warm-up spanking. This was
a full-on ass whooping for behaving like a childish brat.

Violet slowly draped herself over the
spanking horse’s center rail. He placed his hand on the small of
her back, steadying her. She wasn’t a tall woman and the height of
the rail left her toes barely touching the floor. Max slid his hand
to her backside as he knelt down behind her and ratcheted her
ankles into the wide leather cuffs attached to the support rails of
the horse. He made quick work securing her wrists to the front set
of cuffs.

Max stood and raked an appreciative gaze
along Violet’s plump ass cheeks and thick thighs. It was a good
position for a thorough spanking. Her ass was perfectly accessible.
Her legs were wide enough for him to have a nice view of her waxed
cunt but her ass, perfectly accessible and up in the air, sheltered
the sensitive folds of her sex from any wayward blows.

Not that he ever made a mistake when
striking her. He’d trained with floggers and whips and canes for
years on himself and pillows and other objects to ensure safety. It
was one thing to give Violet the pain she wanted but quite another
to actually
hurt
her.

“Are you able to breathe all right?” Max
stepped to the side to get a better view of her folded body.

“Yes, sir.”

They’d been together long enough Max knew she
spoke the truth. There were games they played where boundaries were
pushed but Max had some hard lines. Anything that interfered with
her breathing was absolutely off-limits. He’d seen breath play gone
awry at clubs and private parties. It wasn’t pretty. Same thing for
poor submissive positioning. As Violet’s dominant, it was his job
to keep her safe. That meant ensuring she could breathe adequately
and that none of the clamps or ropes they used were impeding
circulation in a way that would cause permanent damage.

“What is your safe word, Violet?”

“Red, sir.” It wasn’t particularly original
but it was easy to remember.

“Good girl.” With safety out of the way, Max
moved a little closer, positioning himself just to the left of her.
He flexed the fingers of his right hand before bringing them down
to meet the supple skin of her behind. She flinched unnecessarily
and had him chuckling with amusement. He continued to pet and
squeeze her lush ass until she’d relaxed. Her limbs lost their
tense tightness. Her breathing slowed. She seemed content and calm
under his soothing touch.

Max pounced. His flat palm smacked her ass
cheek once, twice, three times in rapid succession. He quickly
moved to the other cheek and doled out another four slaps. Back and
forth he moved, his blows falling hard and fast. There was no
rhythm or pattern. He wanted Violet off-balance. He was relentless
in his spanking.

“Ow! Ow! Owww!” Violet cried out and tried to
wiggle but the cuffs and horse kept her firmly in place. There was
no escaping the open-handed slaps against her burning derriere.

After a few dozen spanks, a red blush
blossomed on her plump ass. Max took a moment to appreciate the
fiery splotches. He ran his palms over the hot swaths of skin. He
let a little of his inner sadist out and pinched her already
inflamed ass cheek.

“Ouch!” Violet squirmed but it was no use.
She was trapped.

Max stepped to the right of her and resumed
the spanking with his left hand. His stinging right palm needed a
short rest. His left palm contacted Violet’s bottom over and over
and over.

“Ow! Oh! Oh! No, sir! Please, sir!” Violet
practically sobbed as she begged him to stop the never-ending round
of spanking. Her cries fell on deaf ears. She’d broken the rules.
She had to be punished.

“Are you a bad girl, Violet?” Max breathed a
bit heavily as he doled out ten more whacks. He’d lost count around
fifty-four and that had to have been twenty or thirty blows
back.

“Yes, sir! Oh, yes, sir. Ow! I’m a bad, bad
girl.”

Max spanked her three more times. “Did you
leave a mess for your master to clean up?”

“Ow! Ouch! Yes, sir.”

Max’s hand went stilled above her hot ass.
“Have you learned your lesson, you spoiled little brat?”

Violet inhaled a shuddery breath. “Oh, no,
sir. No, sir.”

Max’s eyebrows lifted. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir. I’m a dirty little whore, sir. I
broke the rules—and enjoyed it.”

Max suppressed a smile. His stiff cock
throbbed with excitement at her daring tone. It took a hell of a
lot of guts to taunt him with her ass up in the air and limbs
cuffed to the wooden supports. “You want more? Fine.”

He stalked over to the wall of pain and
grabbed the wide leather belt-like strap. Violet strained her neck
to see what he’d grabbed but the unnatural bend of her body
prevented a good look. He took full advantage of her sightless
position and caught her unaware with the first kiss of the leather
strap. Her squeal of pain drowned out the noisy crack. He followed
quickly with a second and third.

“Ow! No, sir! Please, no.” Her ass jiggled as
she tried to squirm free. “No. No!”

“Oh, yes, Violet. Now, count like a good
girl.” He whacked her red bottom with the heavy leather.

She hesitated, as if trying to remember how
many smacks of the leather she’d already received. “Four, sir.”

“Good girl.” He whipped her again and again
and again.

“Se-se-seven, sir.” Violet was in tears now.
“Please, sir. No more. I can’t, sir.”

“Maybe you should have considered the
consequences before you broke the rules like a spoiled little
brat.”

“Ye-yes, sir.” The strap connected with her
red ass twice more. She gasped and twisted. “Eight, sir. Nine, sir.
Oh, god. Please, sir. No more.”

Max showed no mercy. She might be begging him
to stop but she wanted him to continue. It was a mind fuck, really,
but it was the reality of their relationship. That was the purpose
of their safe word. It would immediately let him know she’d had
enough—and he’d stop. No questions asked.

But she didn’t want him to stop. She wanted
to be punished. She wanted to do her penance. She wanted her ass to
be so sore she’d have a hard time sitting for the next week.
Whatever Violet wanted, if it was his to give, she would have. It
was as simple as that.

And right now she wanted her ass beaten.

“Are you going to clean up after yourself the
next time I’m away?” He lashed her buttocks with the strap.

“Fourteen, sir.” She hiccupped. “Yes, sir.
I’ll clean up after myself, sir.” She choked out her reply between
broken sobs. “I won’t be a dirty pig when you’re gone. I’ll be a
good girl, sir.”

“We’ll see. I’m not convinced.”

Max whipped her ass until it was bright red
and marred with white stripes from the stinging slaps of the wide
strap. He breathed heavily from exertion. The flexed muscles of his
swinging arm were warm. He relaxed and let the strap dangle from
his clenched fist. He considered giving her another round with the
strap but her sobbing tore at him. Only the knowledge he could
reach between her legs right now and come back with dripping wet
fingers prevented any guilt.

Max wasn’t by any means a hardcore sadist,
not any more than Violet was a dyed in the wool masochist. They
didn’t fetishize pain or require it as a necessary component for
sexual release. The simpler, less brutal spankings were
administered to keep her on track and their relationship flowing
smoothly. A little domestic discipline went a long way. Pain was
like an exotic spice, liberally applied when desired and sparingly
used when not in the mood.

“Twen-twen-twenty-one, sir.”

He dropped the strap and sidled close to her
body. Heat radiated from her punished ass. He gripped her hips and
pressed his denim-covered cock against her bottom. She gasped in
pain as the rough fabric of his jeans scraped against her
super-sensitive ass. He bent over her and placed a trail of kisses
along her spine. He dragged his tongue side to side over the hot
blotches marring her ass. She whimpered and sobbed pitifully.