Who Says It Was Punishment?

Yeah, yeah; everyone’s at least 18, blah blah blah…

Becky woke up slowly Sunday morning, and didn’t even move as she savored the memory of the night before. They had dinner out, drinks, and went dancing. The dancing was followed by yet more drinks, and the night began to blur. She clearly remembered slipping into the ladies room to lose her panties so she could flaunt her naked ass and pussy. Teasing her man turned her on; it also –of course- turned him on. She wasn’t sure if he’d noticed how often she deliberately flipped her skirt up so that any man watching could see.

The slight ache remaining deep inside reminded her that after they got home she had been well-fucked front and back: exactly the way she liked it. They had started slowly and gently, and then gone animal on each other. Becky got wet thinking about how she’d begged him to fuck her ass, finding the filthiest way possible to describe what she wanted and when. She grinned remembering how he’d bitten her shoulder hard enough to leave marks as he came, the bite and feeling his hot cum fill her ass sending her over the edge in turn. She had gotten up to get more whiskey and his cum leaking out of her ass had left trails of pearls down her legs that glittered in the light. She got even hornier, and decided that after a fast trip to the bathroom she’d walk naked into the kitchen and have her way with him before eating.

As she began a slow cat-stretch Becky felt the familiar tug of the restraints on her wrists and ankles, and realized that he had seen her teasing the other men at the club. She grinned; she knew what was coming: she’d desired exactly this all along.

The sound of the door opening behind her grabbed her attention; then the well-loved step she knew like the back of her hand crossing the room; Becky got even wetter when the bed sagged under his weight.

“Darlin’ you know you crossed the line again last night, yes?”

“Yeah baby, I did; are you going to spank me now?”

She really hoped he would spank her now; nothing got her hotter than being spanked, unless it was chaining him up blindfolded and bringing in her girlfriend. He gently stroked her, his hand straying up from her thigh, across her hip, tickled along her waist and ribs, and ending in a very gentle grip on her shoulder.

“Becky, I love when you tease me; I even enjoy it when you tease other men. You went too far last night wench. I’m going to have to teach you the error of your ways.”

That was not the usual prelude to their play, and she knew his strength and anger. She knew that if he was really angry, he could snap her neck like a twig. The fear she suddenly felt thrilling along her bones was followed immediately by a deep multiple spasm as she came for the very first time from emotion alone. When she finished gasping and could see again, she listened intently. He didn’t say much, he was moving quietly around the room; by the sounds he was arranging things.

Becky knew she was in almost complete control of the situation, the chains she wore had a weak link that repeated practice had proven she could break. The safe-word was in the front of her mind; and she knew beyond a doubt that he loved her truly and deeply. They had been together through good times and bad; she trusted him with her life, and knew he returned that trust. He had always been able to get past the fact that she was unable to talk to a person without dropping her pants.

Then she remembered; she hadn’t asked last night; she had assumed that he wouldn’t notice her being gone just slightly longer than it took to pee, and the kiss at the table had betrayed her; he KNEW what pussy tasted like, and had known her taste intimately for years. He also, beyond doubt, knew the smell of cum, and that the spew on her tits was not his. Suddenly she wasn’t nearly so comfortable.
A fast test of the chains, and she knew that the equation had altered: these were WAY too heavy. The slam of fear catapulted her into orgasm again… she’d always loved the unknown, and pushing her limits to the max was one of her deepest desires. The tickle of the whip caressing her eased her into complacence; the sight of the lash as it fell before her eyes was another matter: he only used the blacksnake whip on the bulls in the pasture. She knew that whip; it weighed eighteen pounds including the weighted haft, it was bigger around than both of her big toes put together: she’d seen him use the popper on the end to cut inch-thick saplings in two. Even as her juices boiled, she suddenly knew real fear: this encounter was NOT hers to control; she began wondering if any of them ever had been.

She heaved against the chains, already knowing it was a hopeless endeavor, and so it proved. The chains were not going to break. She could feel him easing his nude body over hers, fitting like the well-loved glove they normally were. When his mouth was against her ear, when he would normally tell her how well she was going to get fucked… he stayed silent. He didn’t move, but she could feel him against her, his chest on her back, his rock-hard cock nestled between the cheeks of her ass. He didn’t move… but she had to, and began to slowly rock her hips, using her cheeks to massage his cock, hoping that he would become excited and just slip inside her and it would all be fine again.

It wasn’t to be. He stood abruptly and walked to the stereo; soft strains of Mozart began. A few more steps and his favorite incense began scenting the air. She heard him crossing the room again then a soft tinkling from the bar; all things that normally filled her with pleasant anticipation. It was all so normal, but this time it just added to the dread. It also added to the incredible surge of excitement, and the need she felt deep inside, that ache to be filled. He sat still for long enough to savor his drink; she could smell Jim Beam over the incense.

A creak from the comfortable old leather chair that had taken part in so many of their games let her know that whatever he had in mind was to continue.

(As is this story.)