14 Days To Redemption Ch. 13

To the reader: Some readers have been shocked by the extreme nature of this story. So here's fair warning: If you are the type who is turned off by fiction dealing with domination, submission, cruelty or the general exploration of sexual practices beyond society's norms, please don't read this story. All others, please enjoy.

Day Thirteen – Reparations

The home looked like any other found in the miles of suburbia. A regular observer on the street might have noticed that the shades and curtains had been drawn more often than in previous weeks. That strange flashes could be seen illuminating the windows in the dead of night. But other than that, the house appeared perfectly normal.

Even the inside would offer no hint of the unusual. Perhaps the upstairs master closet might appear a bit empty, devoid of the many dresses and other clothes that signified an upscale woman's abode. The ground floor, though obscenely pristine, would yield no abnormalities. Save the screen saver on the office computer, which flashed new pictures every 15 seconds of couples performing lewd and lascivious sex acts.

Head into the basement, though, and you'd immediately sense a difference, a strange turn from the mind-numbing sameness of modern life. Your gaze might be caught by the strange web of ropes, hooks and pulleys attached to wood studs forming the wall on your right. You might be drawn to the long line of arcane and ominous artifacts laid in precise rows upon a table, each vaguely recognizable as a twisted version of a familiar sexual device. Much more likely your eyes would alight upon the wooden contraption in the center of the room. Made of angled planes of black-painted wood, it's purpose wouldn't be immediately discernible, but it would nevertheless appear foreboding. The work of 13 evenings, it would best be described as a mish-mash of seating options, some reclined, some upright, some swiveled, some reversed. Next to it you'd find a plywood board, covered by 25 evenly spaced cup hooks. On each hook hangs a single square of plywood, each evidently covering something on the base board. Finally, nearby you'd see a simple red tool chest, filled with a wide selection of paraphernalia from candles to whips. Not your usual mechanic's tools.

Just 30 hours left, Jack thought as he strode from his car into the kitchen entrance. Thirty hours left in the too long, yet too short, 14 days to redemption. Redemption. He liked the taste of the word. It helped him justify everything he'd put his wife through the last 13 days. The perversions. The embarrassment. The degradation. Redemption took action on her part, while forgiveness would've been just up to him. Truth was, though, that she'd redeemed herself several days ago. She'd put up with everything he'd forced her to do, with barely a hint of protest. She'd let herself be used as a sexual plaything in such a wide variety of perversions that they were all beginning to blur together. She'd redeemed herself by complying with his every order, yet never once looked as though she might judge him for his thoughts or actions. For someone with her religious upbringing, that was a major change.

He stopped in the doorway and watched his wife bustle about the kitchen. She wore nothing but an apron around her waist and black high heels. As she bent over to get a pot from the drawer, he took a moment to admire her soft, proud ass, with its long cleft leading down to a pair of pussy lips that he could now intricately describe in his sleep. Despite the fact that he'd spanked her ass to a nice pink nearly every day, right now it was a pale shade of white. He should've made her do some nude sunbathing to even out her color.

By all that was fair and sporting, he knew he should call a halt to their deal and declare all accounts settled. She'd done everything he'd asked of her. And he, in turn, had already forgiven her in his heart. Everyone had weaknesses. She had discovered that hers was a weakness of the flesh. He had discovered his in graphic detail over the last two weeks. He wouldn't find his in the arms of another woman. Instead, his resided in the darkest recesses of his heart. They involved power. And domination. And revenge.

That's why he wasn't going to call off the night's activities. Not because Kelli had any more to learn. But because he wasn't done having his fun yet. For him, the pleasures of the next 30 hours would greatly outweigh any guilt he might feel. And he'd already proven adept at rationalization. The past two weeks were coming to an explosive conclusion. And he wasn't about to let it pass him by.

"Hrrgh!" he cleared his throat, alerting Kelli to his presence in the doorway. He watched with pleasure as she turned and immediately dropped to her knees, the dinner and everything else immediately forgotten.

"I'm sorry, Master, I didn't hear you come in," she said, her eyes never leaving his feet.

His eyes, on the other hand, hungrily roamed up and down her body. He noted the way the apron demurely covered her thighs and private parts, yet her upper body and breasts were in clear view, just awaiting his touch. Her hands were properly clasped behind her back, and her manner was entirely like that of a women kept in subjugation. She'd learned this lesson very well.

"Is dinner ready?" he asked sternly, stepping into the room until he towered over her.

"Your drink is waiting on the table, sir," she replied, still facing the floor. "Dinner will be ready within five minutes." She said it without inflection, though he could tell that she meant five minutes if he didn't decide to have her perform some sexual task in the meantime. He'd let her be for now. Time enough to indulge himself later. Speaking of which . . .

"Did you have any trouble renewing my prescription?"

"No, sir. It's on the table next to your drink. The doctor says that if this allergy attack lasts too long, you can call him for a stronger dose."

In fact, Jack wasn't suffering from his allergy at all. Instead, the medicine would be a key component of the evening's activities. He'd discovered, strictly by accident, that when combined with small amounts of alcohol, his allergy medicine had the unfortunate side effect of keeping him erect for hours at a time. In addition, a stimulant in the formula would keep him awake and alert for over 24 hours. Perfect for taking advantage of the situation that would soon be unfolding.

Jack carefully led his blindfolded wife down the basement steps, letting the door boom shut with a foreboding finality. He'd spent almost two weeks to get this "playroom" ready, and now he wanted to completely control her exposure to it. Like their past adventures, he'd dictated what she would wear and what they would do. To increase the shock value, he'd blindfolded her. To let her feel how cold and clinical it would be, she walked barefoot on the concrete floor. She wore only the barest of clothing; a tiny triangle of paper between her legs, and two minuscule triangles over her breasts. Enough to just cover the nipples, but not nearly enough to offer any support. Those would be coming off soon, of course. She'd spend most of her time naked, like the slut wife she was.

Slut wife. Bitch. Whore. Fuck toy. He tasted the words on his lips, all used to build up a hard veneer. He could begin to feel the aggressive power growing in him. Just the sight of this beautiful woman, wife or not, trembling at the thought of what might be coming, was enough to start his cock to throbbing. She was, once again, at his mercy. For the next 29 hours she wouldn't be his wife. She'd be his sexual plaything, a living, breathing toy for his pleasure. If he thought of her as his wife, he'd end up denying himself something. There'd be a place or two he wouldn't explore, because he'd fear that she wouldn't like it. There'd be something he'd want to do that he wouldn't. Besides, she'd already proven to like more than he'd anticipated. So it wouldn't be fair for him to hold back, would it?

With his hands on her hips, he guided her to his creation in the middle of the floor. Positioning her just so, he pressed gently on the spot just above her breasts, causing her to fall back into the wood slat chair. He moved efficiently about her, clamping her ankles to the boards so that her legs were forced open and cocked. He fastened her arms so she was spread-eagle, and adjusted the head support so she was looking down at her body. A leather band held her waist tight to the backboard. He'd used the mechanics from an old barber chair to construct this chair, and by releasing a lever could spin her around, adjust the reclining angle, and shift the seat from side to side. Ropes and chains hung from the rafters, too, in case he might need to lift any part of her body.

He paused to check the video cameras which were even now recording the events. He owed a lot people on the Internet for their assistance the past two weeks, and many would be happy to share in his wife's upcoming lessons. He'd actually borrowed the second camera from Kelli's parents, and chuckled again at the expression they'd have if they knew of its depraved use. Though, given the behavior of the church pastor, it wouldn't surprise him if her parents weren't as pure as they acted. One camera covered the whole scene in a wide angle. One sat to the side, pre-focused for a close-up. He could control the tripod motion with a remote, which he tested once again.

He moved to the side while he removed her blindfold, waiting while she blinked her eyes in the sudden glare. With the basement windows blacked out, he'd set up two photographers lights so that Kelli's entire body would be sharply lit. He hated looking at porno that was poorly lit.

"Welcome, my innocent little slut, to your home for the next 24 hours." He let the venom boil up by imagining her bent over a desk, her lover slamming his cock into her acquiescent ass. In fact, imagining her like that had lately been the only way he could screw up the motivation to pull off some of the more hardcore acts. And even that was beginning to wear thin. "As you can feel, you're just where you should be, spread open for me to use and abuse you. As you can see, we have everything we need to make your stay as 'stimulating' as possible. If you do everything I say, and all goes well, we'll walk up those stairs together and start a new life. If not, well, we may end up staying down here until you see my way of this situation. Do you understand?" he asked ominously, crouching forward until his face was mere inches from hers.

"Yes, Master," she said softly, the trepidation clear in her eyes. He could tell she'd been expecting something special for their final day. But not anything this elaborate. Not a dungeon.

"Good!" he said brightly, his mood abruptly shifting. "Let's get at it. First we're gonna play a little guessing game. You have to guess which I'm going to take off you first – your panties or your bra. Guess right, and poof, off it comes. Guess wrong, and I'll get to use these tweezers that I know you like so much." He pointedly caressed the soft skin between her thighs as he brandished a sharp pair of tweezers.

He could almost see the wheels spinning in her head as she considered her choices. Would he want her bare-breasted first so he could torture her tits? Or would he want to get to work with his tweezers around her pussy, though she was sure she'd shaved herself totally bare just that morning?

"My bra, sir," she answered timidly.

"You are . . . correct!" he said with a big smile. He'd wanted her to get it right. They'd soon be playing a game in which the only right answer was the lesser of two evils. "And now, to assist in the removal, my handy-dandy . . . lighter!" He grinned as she tried to edge away from the flame as he brought it closer and closer to her body. Suddenly he dipped it to the paper and laughed as the paper disappeared in a sudden whoosh. Had it been regular paper she would surely have been burned. But he'd fashioned her bra and panties out of magician's flash paper, which turned to ashes without even a hit of heat.

As he bent over her to light the panties, he looked into her eyes with his best wolfish grin, as if to say that all is not as it appears. Then he bent his mouth to her prominently excited nipple and pulled it inside, causing her to moan with purely animal response. Their night of pain and pleasure had begun.

Jack spent the next few minutes kissing, licking, probing and pinching nearly every inch of Kelli's prostrate body. She quickly realized that whether she squirmed in pleasure or pain, she was securely held in place, and could move no more than an inch in any direction. Jack used the chair to its full effect, too, changing the height and angles so that he never had to bend uncomfortably to get access to her body. The demonstration was so exhilarating that he stretched her out level and shoved his semi-hard cock in her mouth, demanding that she suck it like the slut she was. He enjoyed the feel of her warm mouth on his hard rod so much, he pulled up a chair so that he could sit and enjoy her tantalizing blow job. To her obvious dismay, he made her suck him for 20 full minutes, pulling out only when her mouth got too dry and uncomfortable.

"That was so good, maybe I'll just have you suck me off over and over again for the next day or so," he taunted her. "But then we wouldn't get to use all this cool equipment, huh?"

He pushed the chair into a 45-degree angle and swung it around to the right. "I'll bet you're wondering what this board is all about, right? Well, that board is my ingenious plan to keep things interesting over the next 24 hours. Best of all, you're going to be totally responsible for what we do. You'll notice that there are 25 cards on the board. First you'll pick the column and row, and we'll take that card down. Then, on each card is written five things we can try. You'll pick a number from one to five, and I'll tell you what you've picked. Then we'll do it. If it's something that we have to leave the room for, I may save those up to do all at one time. Once a card is used, we set it aside, until all 25 cards are used. Then we mix them all up and put them back on the board to start again.

"We'll try one so you can see how it works. First, pick a number between one and five. Four? Good. Now do it again, between one and five. One? Alright. That's four over and one down." He pulled the card from it's hanger and looked at it. "Once again, between one and five. One?" He looked down at the card and smiled. "Good thing this is only practice. See, here's what it says: '25 lashes with a wet leather whip.' Ouch! Though I'm sure your ass is going to see lots of action before we're done."

Jack looked down and put his hand around his painfully stiff cock. He could really get into fucking her right now for a while. But he didn't want to ruin his game. There'd be plenty of time to fuck her later. Especially with his chemically-induced hard-on.

The first card, which Kelli selected with a tremulous call of 5-2-5, promised to kick off the proceedings with a bang. "Hot wax to the titties," he read with ill-concealed excitement. He'd wanted to try that, but hadn't been able to find out about the mechanics of it. Something like that, something potentially dangerous, deserved more than a cursory understanding.

He grinned menacingly at her, lighting the candle and waiting for a small pool of wax to build up. As he carefully held the candle over her nude body, she instinctively strained to get away. Wax was hot; everybody knew that. What she didn't know was that he'd bought paraffin, which liquified much cooler than regular candle wax. So the first drops that painted her soft breast flesh didn't so much burn as tingle, eliciting a sharp hiss followed by a low moan. He slowly dripped spirals onto each of her waiting tits, always skimming past the hardened nipple at just the right time, but causing her to wince in anticipation. Just for the heck of it, he dribbled a little wax farther down her torso, making her rib cage and stomach twitch and jump. Her eyes told him that she expected to feel the wax on her pussy soon. But he stopped after just a few more drops. He had far more erotic things planned for her traitorous cunt.

The next card he set into a box at his left. She would be performing a lascivious act on the Internet, but he wanted to save the out of the basement stuff for later on. Another three digit number brought them to a card that asked, "Are you a Boy Scout or knot?" In response he brought out a length of white rope and wrapped it several times around her upper body, in effect squeezing her breasts so that they painfully jutted out from between the taut cotton fibers. Grabbing a nearby riding crop, he gently and then wickedly slapped the tortured flesh, eliciting sharp cries of pain from his helpless wife. With her tits rapidly turning an ugly shade of red, he placed a yellow bikini top on her stomach and hopped back for a few quick pictures. The sudden appearance of her lover's favorite swimsuit made Kelli blush, which made for an even more interesting photo.

The next card invited Kelli to meet "Ten little indians," and Ted introduced them with a vengeance.Taking a drawer out of the mechanics case, he held it up so she could see the array of ten dildos inside. Starting at three-inches in length, they grew in one-inch increments. Of course, not only were they incrementally longer, but thicker as well. The 12-inch version was easily as thick as a beer bottle, and looked just about as uncomfortable. Dipping his fingers into his wife's exposed pussy, he found her as slick as she'd ever been. She wouldn't need any extra lubrication. At least not at the beginning. The three-inch dildo slid in easily, and he left it in only long enough to take a picture. Four, five and six were still smaller than what he usually used on her, and she had no trouble taking them right to the hilt. With seven, eight and nine he had to press much harder than before, but her bare cunt still took the strain. On the ten-inch model he had mercy on her and coated the shaft with KY before jamming it in, the invasion bringing a cry to her lips. Before inserting the 11-inch dildo he loosened the straps holding her legs in place, so she could cant her body to best receive the shaft. Even still, she had to grit her teeth as he forced it inside her, the walls of her hole stretched almost to the breaking point.

After the struggle with 11, he considered abandoning the 12-inch model. But to do so would show weakness at a time when he needed to show strength and domination. Besides, he at least wanted to try. After liberally smearing KY all over the head, he bent to the task, using one hand to spread her pussy lips about. At first it seemed as though the girth would be too much, but with an audible pop the massive head slipped inside, with the somewhat thinner shaft sliding in after. She panted like an animal as he slowly maneuvered the behemoth inside her twat, rubbing the rubbery veins against her ultra-stretched muscles. Cruelly and deliberately he let his forefinger trace and flick her pearly hard clit, making her buck up and down on the chair, her ass cheeks slapping against the now sweaty wood. She strained against her bonds, the ropes chafing her skin, as she tried to accommodate the monster intrusion. Recognizing her purpose, he slightly adjusted the chair so that her body was now canted backward and her legs were held open, as though on a bed with stirrups. It was much like the position she would be in to deliver a baby, only this time he was struggling to push something in, instead of her struggling to push something out. He could see the anguish of the effort on her face, but he didn't stop until he felt the head of the dildo bump against the rear of her cavity. As she gasped and panted like a wounded animal, he took a few pictures of his handiwork and then slowly removed the monster cock from her cunt.