A Condo with Two Views

by Al Daltrey

  While I carried her, I thought about how deeply I loved her, and how proud of her I was. I could only imagine that she wondered why I’d been so harsh. I pushed our pain-play further than usual, but I did so deliberately and after much consideration. I love you Chloe. I love you more than anything in the world. I wasn’t about to explain why I’d been so severe. Chloe might be hard pressed to understand, with her ass still stinging, that my level of cruelty was as much for her, as for me. I did this for both of us, my darling. The worse thing a Dom could ever become is predictable. The occasional harsh session would go a long way to keeping our power exchange on edge. A true submissive craves a man with edge. Tonight, I pushed Chloe’s boundaries, and the truth was I pushed my own boundaries. We talked about this baby, remember? I know it hurt, but you get so fucking wet when I discipline you. The pain is physical, but the pleasure emotional. I know you Chloe: you crave, need, and want this. You live through the pain to get to the other side. Sometimes, I will push you like I did tonight. I will cherish you with adoring kisses my darling, but I will also rule you with a firm hand.

  In our bed, my cock wasn’t inside Chloe for longer than thirty seconds, before she started cumming all over it. She wasn’t hiding her pleasure, saying: “Oh yes..fuck, yes…I’m cumming…yes, yesss!”

  She barely caught her breath when a second orgasm hit her. During her third orgasm, I exploded inside her.

  It was the best sex I’d ever had in my life.

  Chloe’s View:

  Leaving home for work in the morning is never fun. But leaving for work when your partner gets to stay home is pure suffering. I was envious. He was working from home, and I was going out in the bustle of the workplace destined for office politics, whining from lazy coworkers, long meetings that run even longer than they should, and weak, free coffee. On the short commute I wondered how Jack would spend the day. He always kidded that people who work from home do little more than return a minimal amount of email. I think he was generally right about that.

  I work as a paralegal in a mid-size law firm, specializing in immigration cases and family law.

  Thankfully it was a busy day, which helped the time pass. All of the boardrooms were booked, and there was nowhere for spontaneous last-minute gatherings. You could see people in two’s and three’s scattered about, in any available alcove. One thing about lawyers, they like to talk.

  Whenever I had a moment of solitude, my mind wandered to what lie ahead for me in the evening. I was to be whipped. I couldn’t help but think of how absurd, and frankly, how disturbing most of my colleagues would find such a thing. As lawyers they would surely argue that I was somehow coerced. They’d never in a million years believe how dripping wet my slutty masochistic cunt was at the prospect of being whipped. By noon, I practically needed to change my undies they were so wet.

  There was no need to buy lunch on a day like today. The kitchen was filled with excess food from the various meetings. One of the assistants had ordered too much sushi for one meeting. Plus, there was a tray of cakes and cookies from Starbucks that had been leftover from another, and a big platter of freshly sliced fresh fruit from yet another. I poked and prodded at a few things, but kept it light. As much as I welcomed my impending punishment, I was nervous too.

  Back in my semi-private cubicle, my phone rang. Call display revealed Jack Gibb. My loving husband.

  There was no ‘Hello’, no ‘How’s your day’, instead a cold heartless question: “Why am I whipping you today, Chloe?”

  At first I answered that it was his choice, and that was reason enough. However, he demanded further clarification so I explained that no real reason was necessary. I was his wife now, so he was laying the groundwork for our life together. He seemed more content with my fleshed out answer.

  As soon as I hung up the phone, I headed for the ladies room. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to cum. I simply had to cum. I was so aroused, I could barely think. I sat on the toilet seat, and with two fingers I started to rub my squishy wet clit. Needless to say, I was practically dripping. I replayed the phone conversation with Jack in my mind – especially the part where he made me admit to being a slutty little faucet. In less than 60 seconds, I was cumming all over my fingers like a whore in heat. Oh fuck, that felt good. I brought my fingers up to my mouth so I could taste my muskiness. I needed to do this. I had to take some of the edge away. I also knew, on a day like today, the arousal would be constant and relentless. By the time I got home for my whipping, I’d be just as horny again. This was only a temporary respite. I wouldn’t tell Jack about my quick orgasm, there was no need to. Not that he’d mind. Unless I was specifically ordered to refrain from masturbating, I was allowed to give myself little pleasure-quickies whenever I wanted.

  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 ‘If 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 sur
e 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.

  There’s a saying that there’s no such thing as a bad orgasm, which may be true. But without a doubt, there are some orgasms that are more intense and more electrifying than others. I came so hard, three times in a row that I almost fainted from pleasure.

  Simply put, it was the most incredible sex of my life.

  Chapter 6. Peppermint Club

  Jack’s View:

  Chloe and I settled in quite nicely over the last few months. When we got the condo fully furnished, we turned our attention toward buying some good art. Deciding on a couple of smart oil paintings and some good photography would claim our unique footprint on our condo. We picked up a sinister looking portrait painted by Anthony Hopkins, the famous actor. Few people know how skilled he is as a painter. We also purchased a photo as part of the ‘China’ series by Edward Burtynsky. Our place was looking good. Three quarters of the units in our building were now completed and sold or rented, and it seemed that every week someone new was moving in.