Please Master

Please, My Master, Part II

-she asks her husband to whip her

and he responds

To: Husband

From: Wife

Well, my darling Master, Monday morning is upon us, and you're hard at work (or should that say, "you're hard, at work"). It certainly was a roller coaster ride of a weekend, and I did survive. I must say that both you and Master Junior were insatiable this weekend.

In spite of what you thought, I'd really intended to get home before you on Friday, but the side trip to the sex store to buy that ball gag made me late. By the way, I'd be interested to discover if you already knew it was a woman minding the store. Perhaps you thought it amusing that my hope to deal with someone of my own sex was somewhat diminished when I discovered that she was a dominatrix lesbian who was only too thrilled hearing about my imminent lashing.

Oh, and while I'm thinking about it, that was a nice dramatic touch to embarrass me after my thrashing by taking me back there on our way to dinner just so you could raise the back of my dress to display my pantyless, welted ass for her close examination. She seemed to enjoy that very much. "Hello, again, dearie, back to our store so sooooon?" God, what a patronizing hellcat! Forgive me for not quite believing you for saying the only purpose for our visit there was your purchase of that riding crop.

That was an excellent upscale place you chose for dinner Friday night, although I would have enjoyed it a lot more if we hadn't bumped into my department head from the university. I hope it was only my overactive imagination making me believe he was rather amused at the welts that were visible just below the hem line of that black dress that you find so fetching, not to mention the black velvet collar around my neck. And perhaps you could explain to me the purpose of the lace top ankle stockings you insisted I wear with the strappy high heels.

The chairs could have been a trifle softer to help soothe my tenderized bottom. Those were a pair of serious whippings!

All of that, and I've only made it as far as reminiscing about Friday dinner!

I have to end this note for now and get some work accomplished. You know the drill: student papers to grade, doctoral dissertation to slog at, etc., but I 'll look forward to a reply from you if you find time, and I will write again later.

***

To: Wife

From: Husband

Well, good morning, my beautiful pain slave. Glad to see you're up. Thought I'd have mercy on you this morning and let you sleep instead of making you get up and be at my service, ha ha.

You ought to know that you brought the second whipping on yourself Friday night. I was satisfied with just the one, and comforting you through the tears afterwards. But, no, you had to be sassy and act up.

In the future, when I ask you, "Who do you belong to," it's not good to say, "I believe, 'To whom do you belong' is correct." Really sets me off. Then and there you earned yourself that other switching worse than the first. I was sure I'd have to tie you down for that second one, but you managed to struggle through it okay.

I have to say how sweet your ass looked when it was all over. Sort of like a whiteboard after a tic-tack-toe tournament with all those lines crisscrossing each other. Hard to find even one square inch of unmarked skin afterwards. You couldn't see it in the mirrors that well, but I think the photos I took will give you a good idea. I'm glad I thought to put that eye-bolt in the ceiling a while back. With that rope running from it, tied to your wrists above your head, making you stretch some, you looked so adorable naked. Your heels just coming out of those glossy black pumps and your whipped ass and thighs the center of the picture. And of course the reflection in the mirror of your bare breasts and your lovely face with that look of excitement and lust.

What a turn-on!

I did kind of lose control after that and made you give lip service to Master Junior before we went out to dinner, but MJ was really hot to trot and in need of being unloaded. It being such a special weekend, nothing wrong with giving you dessert before dinner. I know you wanted to be pleasured, too, but time was getting short and we needed to go. You needed a little lesson in patience, my pouty pet, and anyway, you were made to come a little later, so no harm done. Besides, it's more fun to bring you off when you're tied up. You know how squirmy you get between orgasms, and I wanted to make sure you had more than a few. Which reminds me to get some more "D" batteries on the way home today.

The velvet collar shows that you're my submissive. I'm thinking now that you should always wear some kind of collar, the particular kind depending on the mood. Maybe one made of nylon or basic chain for day-to-day. The strappy shoes and ankle stockings, along with your sleek, bare legs, suggest that you just might be my naked submissive under that dress. Others looking at you might of wondered if you were without panties, but only you and I know it was true. Well, you and I, and the salesgirl at the adult toy store.

Can't begin to tell you how proud I was of you for taking all that punishment. I thought you knew I bought the crop because we wore out all three willow switches. What a trouper you are! I'd really like to hear your thoughts about the whippings. Were they what you hoped they'd be like? Is it something you want to do again?

***

To: Husband

From: Wife

What did I think about the whippings? They were much more intense than I'd imagined. You started out so slowly and gently with the first one that I was actually smirking under my gag. Well, that didn't last long. After a couple of minutes, the force behind each stroke increased and was uncomfortable but bearable. I could feel the power of the strikes intensifying as you went on, and it began to take all my will power, all my concentration, to keep myself flat on the bed. I don't remember the point at which my tears turned to sobs. Then they became real shrieks, screams almost. It seemed as though the first whipping went on for hours, although I figured out later it was really only five minutes. I'd lost count at about fifty strokes. Then it was over, the gag was removed, and I was in your arms and you were comforting me. Once I'd returned to Planet Earth, I became aware of how wet I was. Then you asked me that question and whipping round number two began. I really wasn't prepared for that at all, and demanded that you stop. When that failed to work, I tried begging and pleading, which also didn't work. At some point, I became inured to my situation, gave myself over to you and called you Master.

And then you stopped. You held me and told me you loved me and were proud of me for enduring it all. It took a long while to really calm down before I was in any kind of condition to go dining out.

So, what did I think of it? I hated it! It was unbearable! I totally thought I would lose my mind and never recover. And how could I ever again feel respect for myself as a liberated woman?

Yes, I want you to do it again. I want you to keep doing it in spite of all the revulsion I'm feeling.

I want to feel your machismo while you use the crop on me. I want to know the extremes you'll go to in order to bend me to your desires. I want you to sweep me off my feet, carry me up the stairs, throw me onto the bed, rip me naked and take me according to your every pleasure.

You were right when you said our relationship would never be the same.

You ignited something deep within me Friday, something primal, and from that moment on, I've not been able to get enough of you, not been able to give enough of myself to you. For the rest of the weekend we stayed home, stayed naked, stayed hard. You wore out my pussy, my ass, my mouth. I'm so sore, I cannot sit, stand, speak or walk comfortably. I cannot move a muscle without being reminded of what we did. And I never want this to end, Master. Never. You own me now. I'm yours, and my desire is to please you however it takes.

***

To: Wife

From: Husband

I'm being honest here. And from now on, our relationship will be built on total honesty. I wasn't as surprised as I let on when you begged me to punish you. I've thought for a long time now that submitting to me was what you needed, and long ago I vowed to provide for your needs. I did it as your lover and your husband, and I will do it now as your Master. I will see to it that you find not just ecstasy in your slavery, but peace and contentment too.

I think you will come to find all of this to be liberating, not confining. After all, what's the point of being a liberated woman if you have to conform to somebody else's idea of what "liberation" means instead of being what you want to be. What you choose to be. What you need to be. Even if the need is to be owned by your husband to serve him at his pleasure.

Here are some basic instructions that I want you to follow from now on. You will delight in being freshly bathed and shaved and naked when I get home. You will meet me at the door, and you will be kneeling. No perfume except your natural womanly aroma which I love so much. Soft music. Bed linens turned down, and the crop within arm's reach. Ready to surrender yourself completely to me and prepared to have me turn you inside out with loving passion.

I'll be home at 5:30 today.

***

The author thanks all of you who commented constructively on this, my first erotic short story. It is, of course, a work of fiction, and some parts of it you should certainly not try at home. But, deep inside, I believe all of us desire a relationship that is this open, this honest, and this fulfilling. I'm thankful that my wife and I have this.