A Condo with Two Views (10 page)

Back at my desk, work was nonstop. I had
to fill in at a briefing meeting for another paralegal who was sick
that day. That put me behind on a few of my own deliverables, so I
was racing to meet deadlines. All the while my clit continued to
tingle and throb. I’m sure if I made another trip to the ladies’
room, I’d be able to cum just as fast, but I didn’t want to overdo
it.

Making my workday even more hectic, I
received a text from my old high school friend, Holly. Uh oh, it
usually meant trouble, or she needed something. Holly and I met in
elementary school, but became best friends during high school. For
most of those years, we were inseparable. She stayed at my house a
lot, as her house was pure and utter chaos. Her Dad was never
around, and her Mom was a big drinker, and quite the hippie. There
was never any food in her house, and since her Mom spent most of
their money on vodka rather than paying the bills, they could
easily be without electricity or an internet connection. Just as
bad for a teenage girl, they had no washer/dryer that worked. So
Holly spent as much time in my family’s home as her own, especially
in the latter high school years. She’s the first girl I ever made
out with. Mostly we talked about boys, but late at night under the
covers, we couldn’t help but touch each other.

During my University years, Holly took a
turn for the worse. She started partying hard, following in her
Mom’s footsteps. Everyone smoked weed, but Holly started to lean
toward cocaine and then crystal meth. Every time I saw her, she
needed money, sixty bucks here and forty bucks there. There was no
point in lecturing her about it. All I could do was hope she was
going through a phase and would come out the other end.

Her text asked that I called her ASAP.
Instead I replied with a text of my own asking ‘What’s up?’ which
was a more polite way of asking ‘What do you need this time’? She
wanted to know if she could send a friend
(probably some freak)
to my office to pick up $100.
No way. There were times I had to stand my ground and just say no.
I told her I had no money which was my face-saving way of saying
I’m not helping you this time. She asked for another friend’s phone
number, which I was all too happy to provide.

As the work day started to wind down, so did
all the meetings. This was good. It didn’t look like anyone was
going to work late, which would make it easier for me to leave on
time. I took the 5:00 elevator, as they say. I didn’t want to get
home a minute later than I had to. I was smiling to myself out in
the hustle and bustle of San Francisco rush-hour. Everyone around
me was heading home to have dinner, and I was heading home to be
whipped.

Once in our building, I took the elevator
up to our floor. Luckily no one else was in it, which allowed me to
touch up my make up, and fluff up my hair. Husband or not, I wanted
to look good for my man.

As I walked down the
hallway…
huh??
Is our
door open? There stood Jack. I dropped my purse inside the doorway,
and when he spoke, my knees went weak.

“Come,” he said. “You must be whipped.”

His lips touched mine. This man owned me.
Completely. I didn’t dare move. I was his to do as he pleased. His
presence brought a warmth over me. I was trembling a little, but he
didn’t seem to notice. As he started to remove my clothing, I was
acutely aware that the door was still open behind me. Did he not
know that? What if someone walked by? Piece by piece I was
disrobed. I was cold and warm at the same time. One second my body
felt like shivering, and the next second, I was sure I would
perspire. He brushed my hair away from my face and back over my
shoulders, then he extended his arm, and to my relief, he gave the
door a shove and it closed.

He guided me deeper into our condo, and I
assumed we were headed to the bedroom. He asked if I was afraid or
worried or something. I wanted to reply ‘Does a bear shit in the
woods?’ but I bit my tongue and replied more
appropriately.

To my surprise, we headed into the
den.
Oh
fuck!
There on the desk
were three new whips. One was a flogger. Jack had used several
floggers on me in the past. That I knew I could handle. Next to it
was a new riding crop. I’d felt the sting of one of these too. I’m
sure this new one will be wreaking havoc on my skin during our
session. Third in line was a cane.
Please, please don’t let him use that on
me!
I could only hope
the thin cane was for show. It looked like the type of cane you see
in those old British movies where there’s an evil Head Master
running a school.

Jack spun me around and fastened rope
around each of my wrists, then pulled my arms up toward the
ceiling.
Where the hell is he going to tie that? There’s nothing up
there?
There were two
little hooks screwed up into the ceiling near our pot lights,
hidden away.

While he was pulling my arms and tying
them off, another embarrassment caused me to blush. I could smell
my own pussy.
Fuck! I’m such a slut.
I hoped Jack didn’t notice, or maybe in a perverse way I
hoped he did notice. My cunt was betraying me, and practically
broadcasting how aroused I was.

I’d never felt so vulnerable. So exposed. So
accessible.

He tapped each of the three new whips and
counted off – ten, twenty, thirty. Oh shit, he was going to give me
ten strikes with each! Ten with the flogger I could handle. Ten
with the crop, maybe. But ten with the cane?? No way!

I bit my bottom lip, but didn’t speak
aloud.
Fuck
me over Master, I’m yours.

The
next forty-five minutes are a bit of a blur. He used that
flogger on my tits more severely than he’d ever done so in the
past. At first, it didn’t seem too bad, but then it got worse. My
titties were on fire. My nipples especially seemed to be taking a
real beating. They were sore as hell, which only made them stick
out even further. After the tenth strike, I expected Jack to put
down the flogger and pick up the crop, but he kept going.
Oh I get it! He’s
giving me all thirty with the flogger!
What a relief. Jack wasn’t going to use that cane
on me. In fact, he wasn’t even going to use the crop. He was going
to deliver all thirty strikes with the flogger.

I kept count, as I had been trained. Jack
liked it when I kept a tally in my head, and on occasion, he would
ask for the number.

He paused at one point to ask my input
regarding the severity of the next strike. I had a choice – soft,
medium, or crazy-hard.
What on earth does crazy-hard mean?
What could I say? Soft? Yeah,
right. He’d give me a soft one, but then he’d make me pay for it in
some other way. Taking the easy way out with a dominant never
works.

I mustered up my courage and answered like a
good sub should: “Crazy-hard Master. Hit me as hard as you
want.”

When he responded with
‘I
f you insist’ it was
like a slap to my face. As if I was the one orchestrating this. As
if I had any real choice. I was a pawn in Master’s sadistic
game.

A few more strikes and it was over. I hung
limp. I looked down on my breasts, and they looked like the worst
sunburn you’ve ever seen in your life, along with splotches
everywhere. I thanked Master.

Jack chuckled. When he explained that my
gratitude was premature, I almost fainted. Earlier when he had
counted off ten, twenty, thirty – I thought it was a cumulative
count. Thirty in total. But he meant ten with the cane, twenty with
the crop, and thirty with the flogger.
What’s my safe word again? Oh yeah,
Texas. Oh God, I don’t know if I could handle this.
That means I still have thirty
strikes ahead of me. Not only am I not finished, I’m only half-way
through!

I was deep into subspace now as the riding
crop danced all over my body. Everywhere that the tongue of that
thing made contact felt like it had been set ablaze in pain. Twenty
strikes felt like forever. He started high on my inner thighs, only
a few inches from my pussy. No part of me was spared. Not my outer
thighs, not my waist, not even my breasts which had not recovered
from the flogger.

In my head I was counting…twelve, followed by
a few more…sixteen, two more on the soft flesh of the underside of
my breasts made eighteen. Two more. Only two more to go. He asked
where I wanted them, whether on my nipples or somewhere else. No
fucking way could my nipples handle any more agony. I chose
somewhere else. Anywhere else. As soon as the words escaped my
mouth, I realized he had something unspeakably evil in mind. My
open pussy!!

The two strikes sent me into orbit. The
pain wasn’t pleasant; it was blinding. My clit itself felt like
it’d been stung by a bumble bee. It took all my resolve to not
scream out ‘Texas’. Master was clearly determined to push my
boundaries. I wanted to please him so badly. I suppressed my
safeword. I wanted to be a good little subbie-wife for
him.

I almost cried when Jack untied me. This part
of my punishment was over. I was crying with love in my heart, and
feeling a sense of pride. So far I was surviving my chastisement,
and that made me feel good. I did not intend to sink to my knees,
but my body did so involuntarily. How convenient. His massive cock
stared me in the face when I got there. God, I wanted to suck him
so badly. I wanted him in my mouth. I wanted him to cum down my
throat.

It probably wasn’t the best blowjob I’d
ever given him, but it was surely the most eager. I wanted every
inch of that thick fat dick crammed into me. So much so, when his
fingers got in the way I sucked them into my lips as well, licking
them with my tongue. My mouth was a fuck hole, plain and simple. A
fuck hole for his cock, his balls, his fingers, and hopefully his
cum.

I knew he was approaching orgasm when his
hands gripped my head and held me into place. I made sure to
prepare myself for the impending spurts. Too many times if a girl
isn’t ready, she can choke or gag on the sudden jet of cum hitting
the back of her throat. I didn’t want that to happen. So I got
ready for the spurt and ready to begin swallowing. When his seed
filled my mouth, I gulped it all down like a good little whore,
every drop.

I was half expecting a rest, but instead Jack
grabbed my hair violently and led me out of the den with a coldness
I’d never seen before. I tried to keep up, I really did, but who
could? I was crawling, panting, practically tripping over my own
hands. His firm grip pulled at my hair with a force that caused
more than a little discomfort. The condo never seemed very big,
until now. I felt like I was crawling the length of a football
field.

Finally, in the bedroom, he threw me over
the cushioned footboard at the end of our bed. I’d been here
before. Jack had spanked me in a similar position, and one time
he’d used a wooden paddle on my ass. This time was rougher, and
more intense than anything I’d experienced in the past.
Be good. Be strong.
You can do this. You’ve been trained.
I kept telling myself to be strong, to be
brave.

From a distance, I heard a soft *swat*
*swat* *swat*. The sound got progressively louder, and then it was
accompanied by Jack’s footsteps. He was swatting the cane against
the palm of his hand.
Oh fuck!
That thing was coming to do a dance on my ass, and it
wasn’t going to be pleasant.

He stood next to me, and I tried not to
tremble. Then, I felt the tip of the cane poke gently into my ribs.
It startled me more than anything. I knew Jack would never risk
doing harm to my body, but he had no reservations about making me
feel like a piece of meat that needed to be tenderized. He softly
poked here and there before pressing the very tip of it into my
ass. I felt less than human. Yet somehow, deep down, I also felt
very deeply loved and adored.

I wanted to show him how much I belonged to
him. As much as I wanted to crawl under the bed to avoid the cane,
instead I curved my ass up, inviting him to hit me. I was in
subspace, but very much aware of the scene and what I was doing. So
much so, I wanted to make sure he knew - no mercy was
necessary.

When the words escaped my mouth, I surprised
even myself. I don’t remember exactly what I said but it started
with: “Punish my ass….”

Well, I didn’t have to wait long. I felt it
come crashing down. Then again. And again. And again. Each time it
struck me, the pain was indescribable. I’d never felt pain like
that before. It stung so badly I could no longer hold back tears.
My knuckles were white. It took a few strikes before I realized he
was moving from the top of my ass, downward.

One of them hit the back of my thighs,
which I was not expecting. The skin is softer there, more
sensitive. My body screamed against my will. It burned so bad. The
sting was intense and lasted a full minute before finally beginning
to fade.

I can barely remember what he said next,
but I turned over, so I can only assume those were his
instructions.
Focus Chloe, focus!
After one particularly nasty strike, I broke position,
which I apologized for.

When Jack gave me a choice, there was no
debate in my mind. I needed his cock in my pussy, and I’d endure
any number of strikes, on any spot of my body, to earn it. There’s
no way after all this, I’m not getting fucked. I told him to hit my
nipples, to ensure my cunt got penetrated, not my ass.