Prodigal Wives

Excerpt

Inside the hotel room, Janice quickly appraised the setting, seeing the same aging damask at the windows, the dark woodwork at the doors and window sills, the bedspread draped over a nicked four poster bed, a frayed but clean appearing burgundy.  In the corner of the room stood several pieces of professional camera equipment, including an array of lights, as yet unlit.  The video camera was mounted on a tripod aimed at the end of the bed.  Janice could only imagine.  Just as her nervousness was beginning to ease, the spotlights were suddenly turned-on, the glare of them momentarily blinding her.

Seeing Louis’s face appearing out of that brilliance, she cringed.  In her loins there was intense desire, but her heart was beating rapidly.  Unaccustomed to fear in such quantity, she almost fled the room until Louis’s expression warmed, and he came to her reaching out a hand to take hers.

“Relax, my naughty brat,” he said. His hand on hers was firm, intended to make certain that she didn’t act on her apprehensions. “You’re here to take your punishment, and there will be no walking away from it.”

“I never walk away from a spanking,” she retorted, trying to let go her fears.  “But you are going to blind-fold me?” she asked.  She remembered their discussion at the party.

“Is that really necessary?”

Too enthralled by the man to protest, she shook her head, no, but by that time it was really too late. Behind her she heard the whir of the camera and jerked about to see that Dak had begun taping the session.

“You’ve already started  . . .”

“Yes, Mrs. Archer, it has begun.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call me Mrs. Archer,” she blurted out.  The formality seemed so absurd.

Louis only raised his eyebrows to her exclamation, then proceeded to lead her toward the bed.  Sitting down, he looked up into her eyes.

“Suppose you tell me what you gain from sessions like these?” he asked.  His tone was serious and not playful at all.

Under normal conditions, Janice might have had lots to say, but knowing that a camera was trained on her every move, she was uncharacteristically tongue-tied.  Her stomach bound up in knots; she had no idea if she was going to survive this afternoon.

“That’s hard to say . . .” she started.

“Is it penance?” he tried for her. “Corporal Punishment for the recalcitrant wife? You betray your marriage vows so easily, perhaps the method in your schemes gets you sexual satisfaction and punishment at the same time.  Is that how it works?”

That sounded like a reasonable explanation, but Janice wasn’t about to admit it. “I don’t know how it works,” she replied all too saucily.  “I just know it does.”

“I do know one thing, Mrs. Archer, you will be spanked for your infidelity.”

He was severe in the delivery, his tone of voice containing an earthy quality that held her enthralled with its visceral power.  Finding herself so fascinated by the mystery of the man she completely forgot the whirring camera and the fact that there was another man in the room.  Going over Louis’s lap, every bone in her body shook with fear while her sexual fires ignited with a bright burst of heat.  Having dressed appropriately for the occasion, her bottom was bared with a quick flick of Louis’s wrist that sent her dress flying up over her derriere.  A cool blast of air hit her skin, but that sensation lasted only a few seconds.  Replacing the cool was a warmth that turned to flames as Louis pelted her behind with a merciless wooden paddle.

“Oh, my god, noooooo!” she began to roar when the paddle’s sting turned to pain.

Louis didn’t like her plea, and answered her with more vile smacks, each one landing fiercely over the top of the last until she was squirming mightily to get away.  But with arms and hands as muscular as Dak’s, the Dominant easily restrained her. She had no choice but to bear the attack, although she didn’t do so gracefully.  Crying loudly, she made every effort to end her travail, but “safe” words, rude gyrations and out and out bellows didn’t change Louis’s determination.

“There, my dear, that should do for warming you up,” Louis suddenly announced, pushing her from his lap.  Aghast that it had ended so abruptly, Janice stumbled to her feet looking back at the man, dumbfound.

“There’s more?” she questioned.

“Why of course,” he answered.  He pointed to the bed.  “Your ass toward me.”

“But, I just don’t . . .”

“What you don’t do is protest.  You’ll soon find with me that that’s a dangerous thing to do.”

“But . . .” her response was weak seeing the utter ruthlessness of his flaring eyes.

“On the bed.  Whether your husband gets wind of this or not, you will get your due for having violated your covenant with him.  Of course, if you want to be difficult about it, we could just invite him in to view your punishment.”

“Oh, no please, he wouldn’t understand.”

“That’s exactly what I thought,” Louis replied.

He pointed again to the spot where he’d have her crawl before him submissively.  And while he waited for her to comply, he turned around and rifled through his bag looking for the next implement he’d use on her ass.  “Do I have to forcefully make you submit,” Louis asked when he turned back.  He held a two foot long leather strap in his hand.  She shuddered seeing the formidable instrument.

“No, no, not at all,” Janice replied scampering to the end of the bed, her bare red bottom waving in the air.  Now considerably cooled, she was actually looking forward to the treatment that followed. This intense war she was having with Louis had all the trappings of a real life donnybrook—the kind she so often dreamed about but had never experienced. The only difference was that it was a made-up war, part of the spanking drama the man was enacting for the camera.

As much as Janice looked forward to another round of spanking, she instantly changed her mind when the strap began to fly.  With a brisk, firm stroke, Louis took up where he left off, delivering a steady stream of first exhilarating, and then wildly burning smacks.

Janice was protesting with a hearty wail that no doubt reached far outside the walls of the room. At that point, she was beyond caring.  It was hard enough to maintain the position on hands and knees, knowing if she were to suddenly collapse, she’d only feel more wrath vented on her aching behind.

“I’m afraid you’ve been quite the slut, Mrs. Archer. Perhaps after this correction, you’ll behave yourself.”

“Yes, yes of course!” she replied.

The punishment continued, another dozen smacks before Louis spoke again.

“You’ll be getting all you deserve today, my dear, and then some.  You’ll see to what ends your tawdry behavior has brought you.”

As though he was actually punishing her for some crime Louis justified the savage spanking.  The lecture that followed almost got to that guilty spot inside her where she felt truly ashamed of her adulterous behavior. When the spanking finally stopped, she slumped in a heap on the bed, feeling the cool surface a welcome balm for her scorched skin. Unfortunately however, Louis was still not finished.

“Get on your knees, wench!” he snapped.  His voice cut the air sharply as did a wicked looking bamboo cane he now held his mighty grasp.  The cane hit the bed beside her, Janice looking scared half out of her wits.

“Oh, my god noooooo,” she roared.  This was getting way beyond her ability to control.

“On your knees,” he said evenly, a degree of righteous anger rising to the surface. He held the cane in his fist, a menacing gleam in his eye as he waited.

Though she wished with all her might that she could avoid the caning, she felt doomed to this fate.  Knowing that there was little she could do, she once more took up the required pose, although this time, her rear cheeks were clenched tight, making what could be soft and cushiony flesh, hard as nails.

Noticing the tension in Janice’s ass, Louis reached out a hand and began massaging the flaming buttocks. Though his grip on her was harsh, she was nonetheless aroused by the seemingly affectionate gesture, and her sore flesh began to relax.  Forgetting what Louis was really about she was taken off guard when the Dominant suddenly pulled back and laid three sharp snapping cuts of the bamboo against the center of her desiring rear mounds.

“Yeeeeawwww!”  She collapsed against the bed and turned over.  “Oh god, I can’t, please no!”

“Just three more, my dear, unless of course you’d like me to double the count?”  There was not even the faintest flicker in the fixed eyes that bore into her.  She saw the truth in his warning, even as the sting of the three cuts still made her bottom burn hot.  Reluctantly, she one last time climbed to her hands and knees to receive the cane.  Gritting her teeth, her jaw fixed, her hands clenched, she waited.

Swish! The bamboo struck like a bolt of lightening.  A pause, and it struck again.  With each cut she cried out, though there was some comfort in knowing these strikes were numbered.  There was just the last she had to endure. Swish! The horrid rod came down for the last time, producing from the recalcitrant submissive a nasty wail that lifted her woeful cry into the air for anyone within the hotel to hear.

Thinking she was finished with this debacle, Janice was about to rise from her humbled position when Louis revealed his further plans. Behind her quickly, he massaged the painful skin, and began probing deep inside her cleft.  “You say you want it sexual?  I think it’s time we gave you that gift.”

There was a splash of some cold liquid traveling down her behind, and then fingers prodding their way inside both holes. Her instincts told her which one would see the most action that day.  For all the times she’d protested anal sex in the past, she realized the protests were just a cover for the greater desire. As his hands played with the tight rear place, she felt herself relax and open to the penetration.  When his erection entered her there, she cried, but it was in no way as agonized as the cries from the cuts of the cane.  This violation was somewhere in that magical place between pain and ultimate happiness.  The taking of her ass went on for sometime, Louis not at all in a hurry to complete this ending.  And when he was finally satisfied by her dark channel, Dak exchanged places with him and began the same kind of hard pounding attack that led to his own climax.

 

Limp afterwards, Janice collapsed one last time to the comforting cushion of the old bed.  Unlike before, this time, there was no effort made to rouse her, suggesting that the session was now complete.  While she recuperated, she drifted for a little while, aware only that the whir of the camera had ended and the two men were dismantling the equipment. For a moment she imagined herself being left.  Like used goods.  These brutish men would take off with the images of her bared, caned and thoroughly screwed behind locked inside their video tape, images that would end up for sale on some sexual black-market, and very likely the Internet.

Janice wanted not to care. In a way the whole ordeal was feeling like heaven now in the aftermath; but reality creeping in around her, she realized what a horribly compromising position she was in. The whole adventure had been a mistake, she was sure of that. If there was only some way she could undo the shameful fact, but that appeared impossible with these two in command.

“Louis,” she called to him with a meek voice.

“My dear?”  He turned around from his task and looked at her.

“You’re not really going to sell the video?” she asked.

“Sell it?  I doubt that.” He smiled.  “Here, you want it?”

She was bewildered, seeing the video thrown next to her on the bed.

“Wasn’t I good enough?” she wondered aloud.

He laughed.  “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Well, no.  I’m not happy that you’d do this.  I mean I didn’t really consent…”

“Oh, you consented all right.  But I won’t take advantage of you.”

“But, if you didn’t want the video for yourself, what was it for?”  She was baffled by the odd turn of events.

“To lend an element of truth to our fantasy,” he stated simply.

That she understood.  Clasping the video case in her hands, she looked up at the two men and smiled.  “You do all this for just a sexual lark?”

“Oh, believe me, we’re getting all the satisfaction we want,” Louis assured her.

“Didn’t I tell you, I could be very creative?” Dak added.

With the equipment packed, the two men were ready to leave.

“The room’s rented for the night if you’d like to stay,” Louis told her.

“So that’s all?” she asked.

“I think you’ve had enough.” His smile was almost kind. “You’d better look at that ass of yours before you leave.  Might want to keep it under wraps with your old man around.”

Janice felt her sore behind, finding that she could trace the cane lines on it with her fingers.

“Perhaps we should meet together again soon?” Louis suggested, just as he was at the door.

“Yes, perhaps we should,” she agreed from her lounging position on the burgundy comforter.  Giving them a brief wave they left her to her own devices.

Not wasting any time, Janice leapt out of the bed so she could view her bottom in the mirror.  Just as she suspected, there were stripes on her ass, four of them that she could distinctly make out and another two faint ones below.  Running her fingers over one raised red welt, she quaked inside knowing how this had embedded in her skin.  She was only a few brisk manipulations away from a rip-roaring climax, something she was determined to take care of before she left the hotel.