Contrast

Rate This Story:

Another erotic story from the FLOGMASTER!

Copyright 1985-2016 by the Flogmaster. All Rights Reserved. Free distribution via electronic medium (i.e. the internet or electronic BBS) is permitted as long as the text is _not_ modified and this copyright is included, but _no_ other form of publication is allowed without written permission. This document _may_ contain explicit material of an ADULT nature. ***READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!*** Anything offensive is your own problem. This story is for **entertainment** purposes only, and it does _not_ necessarily represent the viewpoint of the author or the electronic source where this was obtained. All characters are *fictional* -- any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.

Purchase this story in print form!


Don't like reading on screen? This story is available in print form in Ultimate Archive: Volume 3 at the Flogmaster's Bookstore. Purchase your copy today to encourage the Flogmaster to write more cool stories.

Contrast

(****, M/F, Intense, cons whipping, caning)

A husband loves his outwardly prim and proper wife who's delightfully naughty in the bedroom. (Approximately 2,034 words. Originally published 2007-11.)

"How do I look?"

Today was closing arguments in the McDougal Construction case and Gina was dressed to impress in a long black tailored suit, high heels, and a navy scarf. Her gorgeous long hair was tightly restrained in a bundle behind her head, making her look more severe than usual. She wore only a hint of makeup, nothing too daring, and no jewelry other than tiny diamond earrings and her wedding ring. She needed to connect with the jury and come across as professional and suitably attractive but not exceedingly beautiful or overly wealthy.

The suit was appropriately conservative showing no hint of Gina's voluptuous curves and the contrast turned me on. I could picture her above me, naked and sweaty, luscious breasts hanging over my face, moaning as she slipped dripping fingers in and out of that special place between her legs.

So naughty.

I desperately wanted to rip off her clothes and take her right there on the kitchen table, but I didn't dare. She had too much riding on this case, over two years of bureaucratic grinding and nearly three weeks in court. Three weeks of hell for me, for though we both wanted to make love, it just wasn't appropriate. She was distracted and needed to focus, and besides, there'd barely been time as I'd hardly seen her since the trial started.

"You look perfect," I said. "Go win, baby, and we'll celebrate tonight." I put a lot of weight on the word "celebrate" and her eyes widened at the implication.

She grinned and blew me a kiss and was gone. It was still early, so I had a chance to putter around the house before heading in to the office at nine. I got so caught up with paperwork and meetings that the text message surprised me.

"Verdict in. $11.2 mil!"

I accidentally whooped outloud, apologized to my confused co-workers, and quickly texted back under the table, "Qincho's at eight?"

"Yes! I'll meet you there."

As soon as I could I excused myself from the meeting (it was tedious and didn't really involve me anyway) and called Qincho's for reservations. They were fully booked, of course, until I told him who I was and then Qincho himself came on the line and said he'd set up a special table.

Dinner was perfect. Gina looked fabulous. She'd let down her hair and opened her collar far enough I could just see the tip of the secret rainbow tattoo on her left breast. We ate roast duck and drank champagne and Gina told me all about the trial.

"We polled the jury and it seems we actually won the case two weeks ago. Deliberations took five minutes. McDougal never had a chance. The jury hated him. Such an arrogant bastard."

"To justice," I said, clinking my glass with hers.

"To justice." Her dark eyes smoldered with excitement and anticipation and she bit her lower lip. "Is there... justice... at home tonight?"

"Is that what you need?"

"Oh yes," she whispered. "I've had incredibly naughty thoughts lately. So dirty."

"You need to be punished."

"Soundly."

"Severely." My voice was stern and she gave a tiny whimper followed by a quick nod. "We'll take the rest of the week off. We both deserve it."

"Oh honey!" Her breathing was growing rapid and I thought she might come right there in the restaurant. I pressed against her, kissing her boldly, making her blush.

"You're filthy," I hissed. "A dirty, disgusting slut!"

"Oh I am, I am."

"Outside you look all presentable and nice, but inside you're a bad girl, really naughty, and deserve a really long and thorough punishment."

She whimpered again, and neither of us could wait any longer. I threw a couple hundreds on the table, told the Maitre'D to compliment the chef, and we were gone. We left her Mercedes at the restaurant and I drove us home in the Porsche as fast as I dared.

Inside, the lovely conservative attorney lost her power suit and became a slender girlish thing with lovely naked breasts with gorgeously pointed nipples as hard as pebbles. I bit into these with a passion, Gina squealling delightfully.

Her body was so exciting, warm and inviting, sleek and powerful and alive. Within seconds I was hard and both of us were ready. I guided myself into her and she was soaking. Just a few pumps and though I tried, it was too much -- I came with frantic spurting.

"Sorry, honey, it's been weeks, you know."

"Just keep going," she moaned, her own pleasure nearly as great as mine. I was still hard and kept working, my hands reaching behind to caress the wonderful globes of her ass, stimulating me deeply.

Then she came with a gasp and a low shivering moan. "Wow, that was fantastic!"

"We're not in sync yet," I muttered. "I think the attorney broke the law."

"Oh dear. Isn't there a penalty for coming out of sync?"

"An evening of tortuous punishment."

"Ah, bliss. Hurry up, dear, or I'll come again just thinking about it!"

I pulled her over my lap then and slapped her ass hard. Gina has an amazing ass, fit and trim and shapely, yet with plenty plenty of juicy bounce. I adored it, and I adored spanking her. It had been nearly a month and we were both frantic for it. I spanked with a vigorousness that shocked us both and Gina orgasmed twice during the rapid assault that had her cheeks flaming scarlet.

"More!" she gasped when I stopped, but I was aching (and I'm not talking about my hand).

"I'm sorry, I need to be inside you right now," I growled. She rolled off my lap to her knees, instantly taking advantage of the freedom to reach between her legs and begin frotting herself. She felt me inserting into her from behind and guided my cock in and within moments we were both groaning with blissful release.

It seemed a long time later when I looked up. We were both stretched out naked on the bed. Gina lay with her legs apart and was gently rubbing herself. Incorrigible, that one. How she manages to get through a day at the office without touching herself I'll never know.

I got up and went to the closet and took down several toys hanging there. There was the small leather paddle with the oval blade, a heavy strap, and a thin cane. I knew exactly what Gina needed. She saw me coming and her eyes glowed though her expression remained slack as she concentrated on her work.

"Turn over." She obeyed, but didn't stop her business. Her hand between her legs forced her pelvis up a bit, thrusting her ass in the air nicely. It was the perfect position for the belt, so I used it, laying down a whole series of pink lashes from top buttock to the back of her knees. She groaned, squealed, and yelped occasionally, but between strokes she trembled with orgasms and wiggled her ass invitingly.

After several coatings of the heavy strap, I switched to the paddle, pulling her dripping hand away from her crotch and dragging her across my lap. She protested with a vague moan, but I knew the suspended pleasure would be even better, and I proceeded to light up her ass with a long and hard paddling. I didn't quite blister her, but I certainly quieted her arousal.

"Now for the cane," I said, and she whimpered and tried to touch herself. "Don't dare you little bitch!" I snapped, slapping her hand away. "Hands on your head, now! You're getting extra strokes for that naughtiness."

She obeyed with a delicious look of torment and I immediately knew she needed an exemplary caning. I decided a full two dozen would be ideal and lashed the rod across the fullness of her sore rump. She yelped, but did not get out of position or move her hands.

After six she was really hurting and I pushed it home with a snarled "Only a quarter done, dear," and I thrilled at her gasp of fear. I caned her hard and I varied the amount of time between strokes, occasionally striking two or three times in quick succession, other times waiting as long as a minute. She was totally on edge, whimpering and moaning almost constantly, her impatient hands fidgeting terribly on her head. She wiggled her ass back and forth, trying to shake off the sting, and I just kept slicing in devilishly stinging blows.

Gone was the prim and proper professional woman. Gina now was a sweaty naked creature with a scalded rump covered with thick, livid weals. She stood with legs apart and her thighs were glossy with the juices that flowed from her sex. Her expression was all animal lust and wild passion.

Was this the real Gina? Was this wild creature, unrestrained and free to be blatantly sexual, the real woman? Or was this the abberation, and the normal, straitlaced, formal woman, the professional lady with every hair in place and every contingency carefully researched and prepared for, was that the real Gina? Or was the real Gina something else, a morph of the two, perhaps?

Powerful emotion welled up in me. I had never loved her as much as I did right now. She was so beautiful, trembling naked before me, her ravaged ass willing exposed for further castigation, and I decided an extra six was due. I gave them to her hard and fast, a blur of whirring stick and writhing, crying woman.

Then I took her, and I was not gentle. I threw her on the giant bed and planted myself on her, practically raping her I was so forceful. She orgasmed immediately, or perhaps she'd already started during the final strokes of the cane. I could tell from her face and her arched back and violently shudders that she was coming and that made me pump her all the harder. I was painfully erect but felt drained, like I couldn't come again. I pressed against her, feeling her breasts and hard nipples squish into my chest. I ground against her, our sweat mingling, and I reached behind to seize her welted ass in my hands and squeezed hard.

Gina groaned, and then her voice went high and I knew she was close again. I pushed into her as hard as I could. The sensation was amazing: hot and vibrant, tight and wet, and I shuddered in a long spasm of slow orgasm. Gina came also, and we embraced tightly as our bodies jerked with powerful tremors.

In the morning, we made slow wonderful love, and then showered off the odor of sex and naughtiness and made ourselves decent and went out to a breakfast of waffles and fresh strawberries. I dropped Gina off at the restaurant so she could get her car, and then we both checked in briefly at our offices and made arrangements for a little time off. It was anticipated for Gina, so there were no problems there, and as for me, what's the point of being the boss if you can't take time off when you want it? I told my staff I'd be back next week and I wasn't even going to bring my cell phone.

Then Gina and I drove to the mountains to our secluded cabin where all sorts of unspeakable naughtiness went on for a whole week, and once again I saw Gina transform from the conservative good girl to brazen sexual adventurer.

It was bliss.

"You are amazing, you know that," I told her one evening as we sat on lawn chairs and watched the sun set on the lake. Gina was utterly naked. At home, I can't imagine her even going into the kitchen nude.

"I am?"

"I love and adore and worship you."

"You're not so bad yourself."

"I guess we make a pretty good pair."

"Speaking of pair, isn't it time we did?"

I stared at her in amazement. "You're insatiable."

She just grinned naughtily, and it was not the kind of expression you'd _ever_ see on a lawyer.

The End

Rate This Story: