The return

[Continuation from the tale of Marcus and J – about whom I have not written before. Since there has been no new post for a while, I started this one for the readers. To make it more interesting, I am using her narrative and trying to follow the storyline so far. Hope you like it.]


1

He was sitting calmly on his luxurious couch and I was  standing before him. Naked.

A few drops of tears came halfway down my cheeks.

I swallowed, took a deep breath.and said, “Whip me, punish me till I sob, break me – again”, by the time I finished I was sobbing completely.

Okay, but this is not how it began – there is a back story. A few months had passed since the make-up session. Still the memories were very fresh how I waited in the cage for hours or shivered from the cold water, standing in the bonds. However, we didn’t speak to each other after that night. There was a very good reason why.

My dear husband was around all this time and everything seemed normal – being with him, cooking, having food together, occasional sex. During this time, I didn’t want to put my marriage into risk by seeing Marcus, no matter what I fancied deep down. It was difficult to suppress my secret for this long before my hubby – however, he had no clue what was going on between me and Marcus. To him, I remained the sweet and homely wife – but really that was the tip of an iceberg, so to speak, because I had dreams where I woke up in the bonds facing a wall, sweating, sobbing.

One morning at breakfast my husband said he was going away for a few days again. From the very moment the thought unsettled me again. I smiled feebly said, “I’ll be okay”, but I knew I won’t be. Should I see Marcus again? My equation with him was strange. On the other side, I really loved my husband. He would always be nice to me – perhaps too nice.

2

Deep down I was a little upset with Marcus – there was absolutely no contact from him; no text, no emails.

Last time he called me, it seemed to me that he always wanted more. After the first time, once he called me right in the middle of a week day when I was out for work and he was so hard on me that I pushed him away – well, almost. After that he called me again for a make up session – and you know what happened, I melted into submission – again.

At some intense moments I really hated him – like the cattle prod – but I went back again when he called.

What happened to him all these months? Was he out of town? Was he with someone else? It all seemed so unreal.

I packed the bag for my husband, the train of thoughts ran very fast at the back of my mind. It didn’t slow down when I was waving hands to him. Even though I picked the phone a few times, I couldn’t dial the number.

It wasn’t until that evening before I could take a decision. I came back from work, wandered about in the house aimlessly. Then put on a soft sundress and folded the long coat in my hands. I knew I’d probably need more to cover myself when I return. Did I secretly want him to?

3

He opened the door as if he was expecting me.  He greeted me with a hello, kissed my cheek. No other words were spoken.

I walked in after him. He hadn’t shaved for a few days. I expected him to hold me – hug me or say something. He didn’t. He simply went back to the couch, to the book he was reading.

I stood before him – a few minutes passed. Nothing happened. He turned pages. No words for all this time and now this? Tears foamed in my eyes.

“Do you want me to leave?”

He looked up, “Do you want to?”

I shook my head –

“Good”

“Are you not going to talk to me – ask me anything?”

He folded the book, “Yes actually”, smiled “Why are you here?”

A few drops of tears came halfway down my cheeks. I stepped out of my dress.

I swallowed, took a deep breath.and said, “Whip me, punish me till I sob, break me – again”, by the time I finished I was sobbing completely.

His voice was calm, “I figured your husband was here and you needed time. So I didn’t call you – I didn’t want to create any trouble. I knew when time comes you will be back and when you are back – you will be mine, like you have always been. Spread your legs – hands wide open to both sides.”

Then he went back to his book. I realized time was another bond I had to feel. Soon my arms would start hurting and it won’t be long before I started begging – which I eventually did, upon which I was locked up, made to stand on tiptoes.

4

“Did you blow him?” A riding crop along back of my thighs. I nodded as I saw him circle me. His cum stains hadn’t dried on my face. My legs were on fire. The leather cased cane was strong and powerful in his hands.

This was his game – he would ask questions with every lash and based on my answer he will go on.

“Did he fuck you?” Now a whip lashed on my back. I cringed, “Yes.”

“How often?” Whip lashed again – I screamed, “Few times a week”

“Still something was amiss?” The leather landed across my breasts – they were aimed, they were precisely meant for my nipples. I cried, “Fuck  you know that already.”

“Tell me – is there any reason why you shouldn’t be whipped harder?”

I sobbed and shook my head – there wasn’t.

Thus I danced front and back, dangling from bonds, answering his questions – making me admit my intimate thoughts. I was not only naked before him, he stripped me off my layers of shame and pride.

I knew I was up for a long night.

Yet, deep down I was happy. I found my place.


[To be continued … based on what readers have to say about it]

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5 thoughts on “The return

    1. Thank you so much for your encouraging words – I have not written in a while and was struggling to write this part. To me writing erotica isn’t just words but real emotions blended into it – which is what I attempted here.

      I will definitely try to write more.

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