Hard flogging's the charm

"Aren't you going to turn off the light?" I ask my husband as we climb into bed.

"I am not," he says, his face appearing over mine. "I have plans." He grins disarmingly.

I whine a little. He mimics me, turning his voice to a bit higher pitch. "'Oh, but huuusband, it's late and I'm tired and I just want to sleeeeeep,' is that right?"

I laugh, but nod. It is late, and I am tired.

"I suppose you could try to sleep through what I have planned," he says, pulling my legs open. "I don't think you need sleep though. I think you need a beating." His hand crashes into my tender inner thigh and I yelp.

"Oh, that hurts!" I cry out.

"Mmm, does it?" He does it again.

"Shit! It really hurts!" I beg, squealing, trying to close my legs. Both my thighs have received several blows now and they burn and tingle.

"Poor thing, it's been too long and your body's not used to it, is it?" he asks. "I'll go easy on you for a bit." He pushes my shirt up to expose my breasts, and slaps at my nipple gently. "That feel familiar to you?" I groan softly. He slaps my nipple again and again. My body bucks as the burn sets in, and then he is reaching over me. He pulls the crop from behind my head. "This is a good way to take it easy on you," he says, running the crop over my breasts. He covers my entire breast in little taps that make me sigh, but my legs still burn and I whimper. "That doesn't hurt, does it?" he asks.

"Not yet," I respond.

"Then why are you whimpering?" he asks as he amps up the slaps, each little slap biting into me a little bit and making me cry out now.

"My thighs still burn."

"Poor thing," he says. He hits a nipple particularly hard and I twist toward him, a little scream on my lips. He grabs my leg. "Oh, what's this?" he says, rubbing his hand all over my ass. "I think it's an ass. And I think I know what your ass hasn't had in a long time." He turns away toward the nightstand drawer, and I bury my face in my pillow.

"C'mon, show me that ass," he says. I lay flat on my stomach and lift my ass in the air a little. He hits me with our softest flogger and I moan. Again. Again. He hits me until my skin burns and I am lifting my ass for more strikes when he stops, letting his fingers stroke delicately over my backside. I moan; it feels incredibly sensitive there, but I am not ready for this. I'm not ready for him to stop flogging me. "I smell sex," he whispers to me, making me flush hotly. "Someone's enjoying herself. Do you need more?"

"Yes sir," I whisper, so glad my hot face is hidden in the pillow, so glad I don't have to meet his gaze when I answer that question.

The flogger hits me again, and though it is the same soft flogger that I love, he is swinging it hard, and my backside is so sensitive already it feels incredibly harsh as it lands on me again and again. I lift my ass higher, he hits the backs of my thighs and my sit spot and I groan with pleasure. Oh, how wonderful it feels. He stops again, his fingers making me gasp when they touch my hot skin.

Then he does something I am not expecting. I feel the crop bite into my tenderized backside and I yelp. "Oh, that hurts, huh?" he says, as he paints my entire ass with the harsh bite of the crop. I am wriggling and squirming and practically screaming. It hurts. I can deal, but it's an altogether different sort of hurt. It amazes me how he can keep finding different applications of the same tools. I have inhaled sharply so many times I have drawn lots of my own hair into my mouth. I am panting and writhing with the pain, unable to hold still, when he finally puts the crop down.

"Turn over." I slowly lift my head and pull my hair out of my face and mouth before I obey, turning to face him. He kisses me, his lips soft and warm and insistent.

"Take off your shirt," he orders, his dominance sending a thrill through me. I sigh softly as I sit up and do as he requested. "Oh, you don't want to lose that protection, do you?" he asks as I lie back down, his hands touching my shoulder and back. He kisses me again, hugging me close. "Not that it's really protection. Just nasty barriers keeping me from touching you."

"Show me those breasts again," he says. I have been lying with my arms crossed over them. I tremble as I open my arms, and he starts slapping the crop gently all over my breasts in a rhythm only he knows, slap slap slap slap SLAP.

He keeps going, and the sting builds each time he whacks the crop into a nipple, a loud squeal on my part announcing the difference in the pain. Eventually it hurts too much, and after a particularly hard blow, for the first time in recent memory, my hands fly up to protectively clasp my breasts.

I tremble, whimpering with anticipation, as he runs the crop gently over my cheek. He must be looking into my face, but my eyes are glued shut. I couldn't open them with heavy duty tools. "You afraid?" he asks me as he hears my breath quicken.

"Yes sir," I barely whisper.

"You should be," he says, running the tip of the crop across my other cheek. He slides it down to my hands, still clutched over my breasts. "Move your hands," he commands, brushing the crop along the back of my arm.

I can't do it. I don't move. "Move your hands," he repeats, slapping the crop against the back of my hand. I whine with the sting of it and let my hands fall to my sides. "Good girl."

The crop dances over my breasts again, touching hard on a nipple now and then and drawing a yelp from me amongst the other various cries I am making. I twist repeatedly, but manage to get back into position somehow.

I can't bear any more, my nipples are both on fire. He puts down the crop and slaps my breasts full-on. I groan. "Are you my cockslut?" he asks softly, dangerously.

"I am," I whisper.

"Then you won't mind sucking my cock for me."

Mm. No. I don't mind.

---

He finishes in my mouth and praises me as I lie there with his leg over my shoulder, his hands stroke my hair as we both catch our breath. "Good fuck toy," he breathes, and I shudder at the words. He must feel my shudder because he continues. "Good cock slut, good fuck hole. Good wife," he whispers, each phrase sinking into my psyche and making my body shake with barely contained arousal. I whimper at his words, nestling my face closer into his thigh, trying to merge my body with his, to melt into him.

"Mmm, come here, fuck toy," he says, tugging on my shoulder. I whine, happy being held by his leg. "Aww, are you happy being held there like that?"  I nod as I crawl up his body and he takes me in his arms. "But my arms aren't that long, girl, and my hands weren't done with you." I moan as he slides his fingers into my pussy, his thumb dancing over my clit. It feels divine. He rests his other hand on my throat, pressing it gently to the bed, and his mouth goes after my nipple, tormenting it with his teeth. I groan loudly, bucking under him. I love that I can't lift my head although I want to so desperately. I love the pain of his teeth gently biting into my nipple. I love the pleasure his other hand is dealing to my nether regions. I writhe as best I can under his ministrations, and I am making a lot of noise.

"You're hurting me," I manage to vocalize as he bites particularly hard on my nipple, sucking it deeply into his mouth.

He pulls his mouth away from me. "Exactly where am I hurting you, my girl?"

"My nipple," I exhale on a moan as his fingers impale me.

"This nipple right here?" he says, biting into it even harder.

"Uhhh, yes," I cry out.

"Mmmmmmm, good," he says, fastening his lips back around it and continuing on like I never said anything.

I am thinking about how divine it all feels and how much I'd like it to go on forever when suddenly, I explode. I am writhing all over the place, crying out from the increased sensitivity, trying to get away. He rolls to his side, holds me tight against his body and keeps his hand moving on my sex. "Look at you go, girl," he whispers into my ear as I lose my mind again.


"Did my poor girl think she'd have to go another night unfucked?" he asks me as he slowly strokes my sensitive flesh, soothing it as it pulses. I nod against his shoulder. "Poor thing," he says, kissing me, "now you'll just have another night unslept."


I by far prefer the latter.