Understanding

Another day. Another long day at the office. Another long day of yelling and arguing and tension you could cut with a knife. I was happy to just be headed home. I didn't even want to think about what was going on at home; with the wife and kids on a school night, there was not likely to be any concept of sanctuary or rest there, either.

I considered it. I considered not going home. I considered taking the escape that so many in my position have, and stopping at the bar instead. A few strong drinks could take the edge off the day. Provide a simple, easy escape from the pounding in my skull. Release me from the stress of my job. I could almost taste the whiskey now.

But if I did I could not go home. I wasn't stupid enough to drink enough whiskey to feel better and still drive. I'd either not make it home in time to see the kids, or I'd have to get a ride. I could see the disapproval in her eyes as she dragged the kids to the bar to pick up their drunk father, and it made the imaginary whiskey sour in my mouth. I would go home.

I came to regret it. The domestic chaos was worse than I had envisioned. The children were angry and sullen; their philosophical outlook on life didn't allow for homework, and S was distracted and distant. The screaming and disorder aggravated my mood, and no part of my home was safe. By evening, I was exhausted and strung out. All I had to look forward to was the next day, which promised to be a repeat of the same. The thought crushed me as I felt my grip on consciousness slip away.

I awoke the next day with a feeling of dread in the pit of my gut. Just like every other day of late. With a groan, I realized that my alarm wasn't sounding, which meant, most likely, that I'd forgotten to recharge my phone, which meant that I was both incommunicado and late for work. I swung my hips to leverage myself off the bed, and realized with a shock that my legs were tied to the frame. Snapping fully awake, I realized that it wasn't as dark as I had first thought; I was blindfolded. Further investigation revealed that I was tied to the bed, each limb to a corner. I could hear the normal sounds of morning chaos continuing unabated; S was bundling the children off to school. I called out, and realized that there was a pillow or something secured over my face, so the sound was muffled. I was completely trapped. I couldn't even get to my phone to call in sick or anything. The sounds faded as I heard the door slam, with the family heading off to school.

Time passed. I'm not sure how much. Eventually I heard the door open, and close, and motion downstairs. I tried to call out again, and heard no response. Eventually, I heard footsteps on the stairs, and then the bedroom door opened. There was silence for a time, and then S spoke.

"Are you even awake yet?"

I mumbled something sullen to the affirmative.

"I thought so. I suppose you're wondering what's going on?"

I again mumbled something impolite.

"I told you that you're working too hard. You don't seem to want to listen. So we decided that we needed to make you listen, and put it in a context where you wouldn't be able to argue about it. So I deactivated your alarm, took your phone, and emailed your boss that you were out sick today."

I thought for a moment. It's not that I didn't appreciate the sentiment, but I had meetings today I was supposed to go to and if I didn't then decisions would be made that I may disagree with that would cause more work down the line. Maybe if I could talk my way out of this, then I could call in to the meeting on the phone at least and maybe arrange for someone to –

THWACK! Something hard hit me, hard, on the backside. "You're thinking about work. Or escape. Or something. But not about what I'm saying. I think we need to clear your head. It's clearly not working correctly."

Shit. That really hurt. But it did clear my head a little bit. Enough, at least, to realize she had said, "we".

"So are you going to cooperate? Accept our authority in this matter, finally? Give up on thinking of work for the day?"

I grunted an affirmative. I felt her remove the blindfold and impromptu pillow-gag, and I blinked suddenly at the infusion of light. As the world swum back into focus, I was now able to clearly appreciate my predicament; S and K were both in my bedroom. Upon seeing K, I realized that I was most certainly not going to escape; while S was reasonably skilled with rope, K had skills that could put a scoutmaster to shame. If she was involved in this, I was not going to break or wriggle out of these knots. I also saw my cell phone, sitting on the counter, with the battery conspicuously missing. S and K were alternating between looking at me, and arranging the contents of their toy bags on the table by the foot of the bed. I couldn't quite see, but I was familiar enough with the contents of the bags, as well as the proclivities of S and K.

With that realization, a deep feeling of calm came over me. Having determined that I had no choice in the matter, I was now blameless; having no free will meant that I could not make a wrong choice. Whatever happened now, I was not responsible; I could not be accused of failing to measure up to some standard when I clearly had no choice in the matter.

Seeing a change in my facial expression, S pointed it out to K. K looked, nodded, and spoke.

"I think he's starting to realize what's going on. I think we need to reinforce it, though. I've honestly just about had it with his stress and tension lately; it's made him kind of an asshole. But he's your husband, so I think you get to go first."

S nodded, and pulled something off the table to show me. It was a paddle, with a long handle, a flat head, and metal studs sunk into the head to provide an extra stinging sensation. She took it and walked back out of my line of sight, taking up position somewhere behind me. K pulled up a chair and sat where I could see her, and where she could see what S was doing. She looked right at me. Her expression was not a smile, or anything jovial; it was a stern look of absolute confidence and some annoyance. It comforted me and made me feel safe and secure, somehow.

This feeling lasted about as long as it took S to deliver the first blow. I had forgotten how much that ($!#()%*& paddle HURT! It had been so long since we did something like this. So long since we had had time to play together. My tolerance had clearly faded. And S clearly had some demons to exorcise; she didn't build up slowly or hold back at all.

The first 20 some-odd blows had me nearly crying. K's expression remained stern, and she watched the impacts and my face with a clinical detachment. At some unseen signal, she got up, and without a word, walked over to the table. S walked back into view, breathing a little hard, and a little red in the face. She looked at me and asked, simply:

"Do you understand?"

I looked back at her blankly. Understand what? Had there been some question I hadn't heard? Some issue I was meant to be pondering? What was she talking about? She saw the uncertainty in my eyes, sighed, and nodded to K.

The next impact was not the paddle. God. It took a few hits for me to realize she was using some kind of wooden or plastic rod across my upper back. Within the first few impacts I was in tears, for certain. I could no longer track a thought in my mind. Every time one began to form and bubble up, it was interrupted by a horrible overriding pain response. I could feel what I was certain was blood pooling on my back, but couldn't focus on it long enough to ask. I could see S staring at me, her face one of concern. But not for the impacts or the pain. It was confusing and reassuring.

I don't know exactly how long that went on. The pain was deep and intense. Finally, I opened my eyes and saw that K was seated in front of me again. S was nowhere to be seen. K was looking at me; love had mixed in to her expression to some degree, but it remained very stern and severe.

"Do you understand?" She asked softly.

This was unfair. I clearly couldn't be expected to answer questions in this state.

I certainly hadn't heard it, and even if I had, I couldn't be expected to have thought through what was obviously an important issue with all of the violence going on.

She looked deeply at my face, and sighed sadly. "Again."

Oh. S was behind me. I felt leather on my bruised and battered back, and realized she was lining up some sort of whip or flogger for a strike. Panic set in, and I jerked suddenly against the restraints. I think I saw K smirk, but then the flogger hit and my world went white. S wasn't holding back at all, and I could hear her grunting with exertion with each successive hit. I was having trouble keeping K in focus. Her expression swam in and out of my view, mixing with the waves of red and white.

I realized suddenly that there was no more pain. I could still feel the impact, cleanly and distinctly. I could tell that it was hurting. But somehow, the pain was not registering anymore. Nothing was. I was no more troubled by the agonizing pain than I would be by a particularly loud bass beat. My mind was adrift. I felt myself relax for the first time in recent memory. I stopped straining against the restraints; why was I doing that in the first place? I relaxed into the bed. I loved this bed. It was so comfortable. I couldn't remember why I don't like sleep; it's my body's way of repairing the stresses of the day. And I couldn't remember why I was so concerned about my job. It's not like I couldn't make money doing any number of things.

I realized with a start that she had stopped hitting me. K and S were both standing in front of me now. S was breathing heavily and flushed deep red; she had clearly poured a lot into that last set of impacts. She looked right at me.

"Do you understand?"

I smiled and nodded. I understood. It didn't matter what she was talking about. It didn't matter what the question was. I trusted her. I loved her. Both of them. Whatever it was that they were talking about, it was going to be OK. I understood.

I saw their faces light up. I saw K and S smile at each other and toss out a high-five. "We knew you'd get it eventually. Silly boy." K pulled out a tube of some sort of cream and began spreading it on my poor tortured back. S came in and kissed me and held me close. "You did so well. I'm so proud of you. Are you OK?" At my reply in the affirmative, she smiled and said, "Good. Because now we have some needs." K undid the ropes and flipped me over; I was now on my back, naked, looking up at these two women who so thoroughly owned my heart, soul, and destiny.

S began kissing me, deeply and passionately. I could feel K applying a condom to my surprisingly strong erection; then, with a shift on the bed weight, I could feel myself being plunged inside her, as she moaned loudly. My answering moan was lost in S's mouth, as she continued to furiously make out with me. As I came up for air, I saw K, in all her glory, riding me triumphantly, with each stroke pressing my battered backside into the sheets in a way that felt painful and glorious. S watched for a moment, and then leaned over and began massaging my balls and K's slit with her two free hands. K looked up, locked eyes with S, and immediately had a loud and powerful orgasm. I could feel her fluids flow down past the condom and all over my body. S ducked out of the way as K collapsed forward, embracing me with her arms and smiling down at my face. The love and satisfaction in her face triggered a deep emotional response, and we stared at each other, temporarily lost in our love. A

I was distracted by the realization that S had ripped off the condom and she suddenly engulfed my still strong erection in her warm mouth, which felt cool and comforting by comparison to the furnace I had just experienced. K held me in her arms, talking sweet nothings to me and kissing me softly and sweetly as S worked me back and forth to the point of near explosion.

K then scooted forwards to allow S better access, and rubbed her warm, wet slit all the way up my body to my face. As she lowered onto me, I felt S shifting, and felt her lowering herself onto me as well. My view was obstructed, as I was lost in K's beautiful womanhood, but I could feel S's tight cunt embracing me, gripping me with it's strong muscles, working me in the way that only my wife of 15 years knew how to. I could hear, distinctly, both women moaning as they lost themselves in their reactions to me. I could hear my name, and wasn't sure who was saying it. I could hear the sounds of fucking, of sweaty parts slapping. My hands were roaming, across two sets of spectacular tits, and I could feel an impending explosion deep inside. S began to shout, and suddenly, clearly, I heard K's voice.

"Do it! CUM INSIDE HER! NOW!"

My body reacted to the command tone in her voice without any conscious input from the rest of my mind. I screamed my orgasm into K's pussy, and felt it answer me by drowning me in a thick, delicious layer of her cum. Meanwhile, I pumped wave after wave of love into S, as she screamed nonsense into the sky and clamped down so hard I thought I might be bruised and damaged.

The women rolled off of me, and we all snuggled up on my bed, lost in our post-orgasmic bliss. After a beat, K looked over at the two of us, and said, "So... I'm hungry now. And we only got to work through like half of our toys. I'm thinking... IHOP waffles and pick it up again after?"

S and I laughed, lost in the feeling of deep love and comradeship that pervaded the room just as thoroughly as the smell of sex. The women hopped up, removed the remainder of my restraints, and set about getting dressed. As I pulled on some pants, I saw the battery for my work phone. I could just put it in real quick and check my emails. I picked up the battery, and looked at it.

Then I threw it into the crack between the bookshelf and the wall. It'd take a serious effort later to get the bookshelf disconnected from the wall and slid over enough to get that back.

Oops.