Part Three: First Scene
Over the next few days I made a few home improvements, all at Connie’s behest.
In the bedroom, I installed a ringbolt at ground level to the wall. I didn’t have to be told that was when Connie would be spending the night on the floor, chained by a collar.
The basement den had a bar and was used for entertaining. Plus two wonderful pillars that would now finally have a use – but far more than just supporting the floor above! I placed rings on them – no doubt in my mind that I would be hanging Connie by her wrists, or spread-eagled between them. I would be doing some quite different entertaining down here shortly!
Connie was a great housekeeper. She had told me that her alcoholic mother had let her kids grow up in filth – so she naturally kept the house very clean.
The weekend had started normally. I didn’t think that there was anything going on. Connie cooked a wonderful dinner, and we went out to a movie, and stayed out late for drinks. On Saturday morning, she cooked breakfast, and placed the dishes in the sink. I didn’t realize that anything was going on until after Dinner on Saturday night, when the sink was overflowing with dishes from fully four meals. This from a woman who disliked even a single dish left in the sink.
“Honey, don’t you think…” I called to Connie from the kitchen.
I had almost turned the taps on the sink to do the dishes myself, when suddenly the light bulb went off above my head. Connie had just given me a reason for a session. It was the moment of truth! For the past 3 weeks, she had been educating me about our new roles. Now, finally, it was time.
Ever watch a cartoon when an angel and a devil appear on a character’s shoulders? Each one is arguing their respective positions, for good or evil? That was the way I felt at that exact moment.
I could both do the dishes and join my wife quietly in the den. Or I could do what she wanted me to do – punish her for making a mess. I had never felt so nervous before - proposing marriage had been easier than this!
I walked into the den, and Connie was seated at the couch, reading a copy of Vogue, her favorite fashion magazine.
“Connie, why didn’t you do the dishes?” I asked.
“Because I’d rather read just now, I don’t want to clean up.”
“But it’s such a mess, dear – disgusting!” I exaggerated a little!
“Screw the dishes, I’m busy!” said Connie.
“That’s enough, slave!” I said as I seated myself on the couch, “you had better get across my knee now – understand!”
Connie folded the magazine, and draped herself over my lap. I wondered why she had been wearing a skirt today – even more surprised to find that she wasn’t wearing any panties underneath.
“What is your safeword, slut?” I demanded.
“Sinful, Master.”
“Remember it well,” I advised.
Smack!
My first whack at Connie’s bottom was quite mild, and barely audible. But the effect it had on me was electric – here was Connie, my wife and love, draped across my lap – eager and willing for me to punish her.
Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
I watched as my hand impacted on one of her buttocks, and then the other, each time leaving red marks behind. Connie moaned slightly with each spank, and I held her in place.
Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
I could feel her bottom warm as I punished her skin, and I felt like the man in the spanking films that I had seen.
Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
I had thought to ask Connie if she had had enough – when I realized just how silly that might have sounded. She had told me that she had been beaten regularly with a riding crop – and I was worried that my first time with her was going to hurt!
Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
I reached my hand between her legs to Connie’s sex, and found her dripping wet with arousal!
“Slut!” I told her.
“Yes, Master.”
“Kneel and thank me for your punishment, slave!”
Connie did as she was told, and was soon kneeling at my feet. It wasn’t until she was off my lap that I realized that I had an immense hard-on in my jeans. Her spanking had turned us both on!
“Thank you, Master,” said Connie.
“I want you to properly thank me – without making me come,” I ordered.
I unzipped my jeans and my erect cock sprang out, the head purple and the veins sticking out. Connie placed her head between my thighs, and opened her mouth to admit my cock. There was nothing so sexual as seeing my wife suck at my shaft, taking it deep within her throat.
I felt like I was going to burst, but managed to control myself from coming in her mouth. The night was young – and we were just getting started!
Gradually, even though she was sucking me off, my erection declined. Even as the tip of her tongue circled the glans of my cock.
“Very good slave – you shall bear my seed later.”
“Thank you, Master,” Connie answered.
“But now I want you to dress in your Maid’s uniform – without bra or panties, just stockings and a garter belt. I want you to bring that pair of heels you’re so proud of – the one with the locking ankle straps.”
“Yes, Master!”
“And if you’re slow – there will be a punishment!”
“Yes, Master!
Connie bowed and ran off up the stairs. I hoped that she knew how to walk in high heels on carpeted floors!
When she returned, Connie was dressed in her Maid’s uniform, which I had to admit was very attractive. She also had on a pair of black stockings as well, and was carrying the heels in her hands. I rose from the couch, and lifted her skirt – underneath was her exposed wet sex.
“I see that you have followed my orders.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Hand me the shoes, I’m going to lock them on you myself.”
Every spring, Connie enjoyed going out shopping for shoes. She loved to wear shoes with the briefest of straps, or backless mules, and slingbacks. She had very pretty well formed feet, and she desired to show them off.
While seated on the couch, I placed a wooden chair in front of me. Connie held onto the chair as a placed the right heel on her foot, then padlocked the strap around her ankle. Next came the left foot, and she stood shakily on her perch.
“I want you to do the dishes and clean up the mess you’ve made – and afterwards there will be a further punishment downstairs in the den.”
“Yes, Sir!” Connie answered.
I heard the sounds of running water from the kitchen (we didn’t own a dishwasher); and contemplated my next move. I leafed through a bondage magazine that Connie had left on the coffee table.
Could I really use something stronger on my wife? Spanking was one thing, but I felt that using a riding crop or whip – well that was something else entirely. I had sat there in front of the TV watching hours of porn films with Connie – all of women getting the business end of crops and whips. Connie apparently didn’t find any of the movies wrong or disturbing – in fact I guess that she was aroused by seeing that her nipples had hardened under her shirt.
“The dishes are finished, Sir,” Connie announced while standing in front of me.
“Excellent – I want you to go downstairs to the playroom and choose your instrument of chastisement – you shall select your own punishment this evening,” I answered.
“Yes, Sir!” she answered.
Reading all of that porn and non-fiction had been a real education for me. Connie had been right – before I know nothing of the language – but I certainly knew a lot more now!
We had placed all of the toys in the playroom in anticipation of this night – which was finally taking place. The night I would discipline my wife, and slave!
I rose from the couch, and walked down to the den. Connie was kneeling on the floor, still in her uniform and heels. On the coffee table in front of her was a satin pillow – and resting on it was the riding crop!
“Have you made your choice?” I asked.
“Yes, Master – please use the crop?” she answered.
If someone had told me three months ago that my wife would be asking me to use a riding crop on her, I would have punched him or her out silly. Instead here I was, about to cover my wife in red marks!
“Here is the key to your shoes – I want you totally naked, and then you can place the bracelets on your wrists and ankles.”
I sat down on the couch, and watched as my wife removed the high heels, and then her Maid’s uniform, garter belt and stockings. On the coffee table were the instruments of her bondage – wrist and ankle bracelets that I would use to confine her into whatever bondage position I chose. Connie, obviously with long practice, proceeded to lock herself into each one. Finally, she knelt, and placed her hands on her knees, her legs open to expose her sex.
I stood up, and locked the matching collar around her neck. Her bondage ordeal was about to begin!
“Stand between the columns, I want to chain you there,” I ordered.
“Yes, Master.”
Connie rose to her feet, then stood between the columns. I walked over and locked her bracelets to the chains, pulling her legs and hands apart. Soon, she stood straining, her limbs pulled by the chains. There was no slack, nor could she escape. She was totally helpless to my will!
I removed the crop from the pillow, and flexed it in my hands. What a nasty little device!
“Kiss the crop, Connie,” I ordered.
“Yes, Master!” she answered.
“What is your safeword?”
“Sinful.”
Until just a few days ago, I had no idea what a safeword was – now I knew that it meant that a submissive couldn’t take any more punishment, and was a plea for mercy.
“Aaaaah!” Connie cried what I struck her for the first time.
“Aaaah!
“Aaaah!”
“Aaaah!”
Each stroke of the crop on her naked skin left a small red mark behind. In books, I had learned what places I could strike – and those I couldn’t – like the kidneys. I had literally memorized every picture and diagram, and I was going to be the most careful Master that I could!
“Aaaaah!”
“Aaaaah!”
“Aaaaah!”
I applied stroke after stroke on Connie’s skin, leaving a steady path of marks behind. I tried to avoid hitting the same area twice in a row – all of that pillow practice had been a good idea!
I then stopped, and placed my hand between Connie’s strained thighs, feeling her sex. She was wet! Far wetter than when we had made love. I pushed two of my fingers into her sex, and finger fucked her. She moaned in ecstasy, and I watched as droplets of sweat ran down her breasts and flanks.
“Wanton slut,” I commented, “do you prefer your Master’s crop or his shaft?”
“Both, Master. Mmmmmmph,” she moaned as I removed my fingers from her slit, then placed them inside her mouth.
“Clean my fingers of your own juices, slut,” I ordered.
She willingly complied, tonguing my fingers clean of her own female secretions.
“Now we continue.”
I next began by using the crop on the outside of her thighs, but when I began to strike her between her legs; Connie really became quite agitated.
“Aaaaah!
“Aaaaah! That hurts.”
“Aaaah!”
“Ooooh!”
“Ooooh!”
“Ouch!”
“Ouch!”
“That hurts!”
At no time did she use her safeword – I would have dropped the crop and rushed to her aid. Instead she absorbed every blow, and appeared not to mind even when I struck her harder. I watched as she finally climaxed in her bonds, the crop driving her to one orgasm after another, the sweat pouring off of her naked body, reflecting in the lights.
“You came without permission, slave – now I’ll use the flogger!”
We had hung some of her toys on the wall, like a dungeon we have seen in a tape. When we had guests in the future, we would have to remember to remove them – or have some embarrassing questions.
I exchanged the crop for the flogger, and proceeded to deliver several harsh and stinging blows that left Connie and me gasping – just how much could my naked wife really handle of this? Women aren’t supposed to be naked, in chains, and flogged!
“Kiss the flogger, slave!” I ordered.
“Yes, Sir,” she panted in response.
After she had complied, I released her – she was a little weak from her ordeal. I then discovered that I had a raging hard-on, my cock was as strong as steel.
I laid Connie on the carpeted floor and took her there, in all of her orifices. She was like a sexual dynamo, and came time after time. After first fucking her cunt and driving her to one orgasm after another, I then placed my cock in her mouth. She sucked me back to hardness, and then I took her bottom twice.
We then walked back to our bedroom, and fell asleep immediately. We were both exhausted.
I was awakened Sunday morning by the sound of birds outside the open window. I thought that the previous night had been a dream – until I saw that Connie was still wearing her collar and wrist bracelets!
She opened her eyes and looked at me.
“Is this what you wanted?” I asked, “debasing my wife?”
“Sam – Master; I wasn’t debased – I was a willing participant.”
“More than a participant – I would never have thought to do anything like this with you - had you not asked. And taught me!”
“You were very good, Master. You knew how to make me moan and cry, and make me come from the pain – which I haven’t had the chance to enjoy in a long time.”
“Will you want to do this again?” I asked.
“At least once a week,” Connie answered, “depending on my Master’s pleasure – remember you can use me any time that you want, in whatever way that you want.”
Who, I wondered, controlled whom? I may have held the whip and placed Connie in chains. But it was she that had bought them, and trained me in their use. Afterwards, we had a happy, though strange, marriage.