This page hosted by
Get your own Free Home PageShe takes a deep breath for courage and puts her feet wide apart before crossing her arms behind her back to thrust out her chest. Her bravery in the face of such adversity is admirable and I smile to think what her bridge club would think if they could see her now. Maybe she is thinking similar thoughts and I detect just the beginnings of a tear as I walk around her for a complete inspection.
I am under the impression that this was her idea to begin with. Borne out of ten years of socially acceptable but otherwise boring marital sex and he surprised her by excitedly agreeing to it. Maybe if they had shared their fantasies earlier my presence wouldn't be necessary but that is not my concern tonight. I am not a marriage counselor however, I wonder if she really knows what she's asking for. Is this was she is expecting? A wince on Jerry's face shows me he is getting painfully turned on by the show unfolding before him but what about her? She jumps as I touch her for the first time. Where else but on the part of her that is going to be the focus of my attention for most but by no means all of our further activities . Round, firm, quivering slightly and almost begging to be brought to a new level of sensual fulfillment. Very nice indeed but my question about her present attitude is better answered by exploration elsewhere. I keep my hand on her as I walk around until it rests on the front of her thigh. She takes a quick breath as I move it inward and as if by magic, her legs open even more and she sighs as I stroke the wet surface and use her abundant lubrication to facilitate the insertion of a couple of fingers.
They leave a thin trail on their way up over her stomach and into the valley between her breasts. A few short tweaks and those mature nipples are standing at attention. I have my answer. This is definitely a woman ready for sex and in spite of her shame, she is leaning into my hands but I am not here to caress her body with my fingers. She may want a man's hands to fondle, grab and maul her breasts while ramming into her aching and hungry vagina hard and repeatedly but that will be Jerry's job and right now, he is in no position to do much of anything except be a passive observer. More to the point is the slow acknowledgment that her middle class morality has been shattered. If I were to send her to the floor she would be on her back with her legs wide open and begging me to satisfy her uncontrollable urges. She is no longer a meek little housewife. She is exposed as a woman who right then needed sex more than life itself and she didn't care who she did it with. This blossoming of her true sexuality is more humiliating and exciting than everything I have done to bring her to this stage. She is breathing hard and can barely keep her own hands from taking over where mine have just departed.
This is torture of an ilk she never imagined. Her face expresses a question. Will she be freed from her shame by the pain of the punishment or will it just increase her wanton desire to give me what she had vowed to keep sacred for Jerry alone? I think the tears streaming down her face are an indication that she is more likely to be forced to live with the consequences of the second option. How can Jerry ever want to be with her again? A flicker of indecision and she looks to her husband. Out of the corner of my eye I see him nod. Encouraged by him, she touches herself. His eyes nearly pop out of his head. She is obviously familiar with her body and how to stimulate it but I think Jerry and I are the first ones to ever see her in action. However, I don't want her to have too good a time so I pull her hands away.
She looks at them in disbelief. The tears flow freely as she remembers that her husband is not her only audience. She jumps as my finger replace hers and then gives in to the long suppressed desire for a man to take complete control of her body. She is almost too weak to stand as the roughness of my grasp shoves and pulls her back and forth. She can expect my application of the things on the table to be no less forceful and unyielding. It is my intent to see that this part of her is reminded of the almost violent and very erotic aspects of her situation but never too much at any one time. I keep my slippery hold as we work our way to the table. It is time for her to find out if other forms of foreplay are as arousing. I pick up the paddle and point to the arm of the sofa. I don't know which is harder for her, stepping back away from the delightful torment of my fingers or putting herself into the first of many positions that are going to lead to a lot of pain and increased frustration and humiliation.
She had a towel hidden under one of the throw pillows and she places it over that arm of the couch. It just wouldn't do to have her perspiration or other bodily fluids stain the furniture. With a quick look at Jerry she puts herself into position and offers her pale rear end to the first of the crayons that will give it many new colors. This is not a complicated operation but I feel the need to adjust her a little. Mostly because I like to feel her bare bottom and also to keep her aware of who is the director of the show.
She jumps in surprise as the paddle lands for the first time and expresses the smallest groan of pain but she knows it is just the beginning and she will look back on the slight discomfort of this one swat with longing. The room is silent for the next few minutes except for the sound of the paddle making contact, soft grunts from her and Jerry's heavy breathing. Our agreement calls for twenty swats with each implement and I am making the most of each one. She holds out till number fifteen before her grunts become more recognizable expressions of discomfort. I give her the chance to let the feelings sink in between strokes and her rear end is well on its way to understanding the meaning of pain when I put the paddle back on the table.
I hear something calling my name and look to see the prune Danish doing its best to entice me but there's a bare bottom that demands my attention even more.
In accordance with my letter she is waiting until I give her a short hand spanking before we move to the next implement. This will be the interlude between all parts and although I don't intend to spank her very hard it will become more enjoyable for me and less so for her as the evening goes on. What she probably hadn't counted on was that this also kept her in position for me to push her legs apart so I could verify and/or encourage her sexual response to her ordeal. I find her wet and aroused and just as she starts to relax and enjoy my touch I pull away and swat. She is in good shape and feels firm under my hand. I get a few grunts but her bodily response indicates that even this simple form of punishment is not pleasant. She knows she will suffer much more and is saving her sounds of anguish for when she really needs them.
When I step back she struggles to her feet and clasps her hands in front of her. Backside rubbing is not allowed and the temptation must be held in check.
Next is the small whip. Her bottom will get a rest as I move her arms behind her back and have her hold to the opposite elbows She has to pull her shoulders back to accomplish this and I help her make the connection before I turn her around. Although this punishment is to be on her upper torso I make her open her legs wide as I attend to her pleasure and humiliation by roughly shoving my fingers into her for a moment and leave her panting as I begin the punishment. Again she gets twenty strokes which amount to four on each side of her breasts and two on each nipple. She has her eyes closed against the pain and moans continuously as accompaniment to the snap of the whip and the last ones get distinct cries.
She is good and does not move as I put the whip back on the table and move behind her. I bend her slightly and hold one to one of her sore breasts while my other hand reminds her that she is a woman who has an increasing desire for intercourse and then that she has a bottom that is made to be spanked and where the punishment will be centered for the next part.
Her hands fall to her side and she is wriggling nicely to try to alleviate the pain without using her hands. Her face is a delightful mixture of pain, mortification and pure lust. The hairbrush is next and this will be over the knee but I didn't say whose knees. I lead her to Jerry and gently push her over. She is confused at first. He is incapable of giving her the spanking but soon understands that I'm considering him another piece of furniture to be used to hold her bottom up. Besides I thought he might like to see what a bottom bouncing under the hard down- strokes of the brush might look like close up.
He can't take his eyes off her as she struggles to stay on his lap for twenty swats with the brush and an equal number with my hand. She cries continuously but mostly during the small break between the two spankings when right under her husbands nose she is raising herself to a stranger's thrusting fingers. It seems that the hand spanking is a release for her shame and she seems to appreciate the extra pain to cleanse her.
When she rises we can see the tears running down her face and perhaps to comfort and reassure him of her love, she puts her hand on his erection as she pushes herself up. She may think she's doing him a favor but Jerry and I know better. The discomfort of his unnaturally hampered erection shows on his face but she thinks it is sympathy for her and she kisses him on the cheek before she turns to give herself back to me for the next punishment.
I am holding the riding crop and point to the coffee table. She takes the towel off the sofa and covers the table before laying face up on it. I pick up each foot and raise it high as I give it to her to hold and then move her hands apart to keep her thighs wide open for their turn to experience the joys of agony. She is really scared and I notice the natural lubrication is flowing less freely. Although our agreement protects her sex from the crop it is all too exposed. Fear is a good thing but too much can be counter-productive so I pull up one end of the towel and bring it between her legs. She sighs in relief as that part of her is now protected but her face shows a different emotion when the crop gives her it's first kiss. She rolls from side to side as the pain sinks in and in slow progression the bites move from knees to the towel. Ten as hard as I can strike on each leg. As I put the crop down and remove the towel from her crotch she is still writhing in an effort to diminish her agony and I can't help but think her gyrations are an attempt to offer herself to my fingers again. If so she is successful in the second part at least and I am pleased that she is back on track in her desire for intimate touching and my rough manipulation just increases her moans of lust.
She is getting too close to orgasm and we don't want that so I move her hands together which causes the punished skin on her thighs to contact each other. She doesn't seem to like that but she is obedient. I pull her hands and feet up to her head so her bottom is raised off the table and available for another twenty swats with my hand but unlike the previous spankings of this nature I am slapping very hard. There is one more punishment to go and her bottom must be completely prepared for it.
She is a sorry looking woman when she is on her feet and I sweep the towel to the floor. She starts to pick it up but I hold her back. It is not much but it is a token. Her husband is bound and gagged, she is naked and sore as well as humiliatingly aroused and her sense of neatness is now disturbed. This well kept room will have to suffer that fate of being in disarray until I leave.
I have her stand straight and she seems determined to keep her thighs apart so I let her. Although we both know it is because of the pain I act as if she wants me to put my fingers down there again. I'm happy to oblige. I put one hand on her back to steady her as the other reaches in, grabs hold and pulls her up on her toes. I keep this pressure as I rub her in a not too gentle manner.
As before I leave a trail as I move up to her breasts and I hold these delightful orbs while rolling her nipples. I squeeze and pinch these small protrusions until they are erect and I put her hands there. I indicate that she is to play with her nipples while I get the small metal clamps Jerry bought just for this occasion. I have to hand it to him, he got the best. She winces as I approach and I can't get over the feeling that her curiosity about his purchases overcame her natural shyness about such things. I don't think this will be the first time the metal has been in contact with her nipples and wonder if she did this alone or if Jerry got to watch. Either way, she obviously know what's coming and as I get close she releases a nipple and puts a hand under her breast to hold it out for the tiny jaws. She moans as it closes and I give her a few moments to present its twin for similar adornment. There is a thin chain connecting them and when I attach a small weight she moans again. I reassure myself that she is still aroused before she turns around and grabs her ankles. Her bottom is toward Jerry so he will see each impact of the tawse.
This is also a new purchase but in accordance with my instructions it has been oiled and flexed to remove some of the stiffness of new leather. It would be nothing more than a paddle unless it has been broken in properly and I am not displeased with the effort they put into it. In my minds eye I can see the two of them watching TV while seeing to the preparation of a thing that will be used to give the lovely and well-marked bottom before me its final taste of real punishment. The hairbrush has already taken the virginity of the backs of her thighs and now they'll learn how a piece of flexible leather feels after a long swing to build up speed. Five on each and she cries loudly as the weight swings back and forth and she barely maintains her balance. The final ten will be concentrated on her bottom and are spaced about a minute apart. I believe it is the longest ten minutes she ever spent.
I think she appreciates the towel on the floor now. It is absorbing her tears as they drip down. She is waiting like a good girl. I know she wants to grab her behind and alleviate the pain but she cannot move until my hand has added to the fire back there and her knuckles are white with the violence of her grip around her ankles. I finish my soda and there are only two things on the table which concern me now. One is the key to Jerry's handcuffs which I toss to the floor under her face and the other I take a bite out of. Delicious. She is reaching for the key as I give her a friendly pat on her rear end and leave.
Life is good and so is prune Danish.
Get your own Free Home Page