Chapter 38: Of Fantasies and Families

As we arrived at the baggage claim area, I was surprised to see Rhonda standing there with a huge grin on her face. We hurried over to her, and I swept her into a big hug. "You didn't have to do this. We were going to take the bus back."

She smiled up at me. "I had to come to the city anyway for something else, so picking the two of you up wasn't a problem." She looked down for a moment, then back up, and quietly added, "To tell the truth, I've missed the two of you. It's been damn quiet around the house these past couple of weeks."

To anyone watching, we likely looked like a son and his mother or older aunt greeting each other. That impression probably changed when I bent my head and kissed her deeply, and our tongues tangled with each other's for a minute or two. The impression would have been completely shattered when she released me and turned to kiss my fiancée in the same manner. We all ended up with slightly flushed faces as we broke apart long enough to collect our luggage. I had my arm around her shoulders as we walked toward the parking lot, and she had an arm around my love's waist.

When we got to the car, Rhonda tossed me the keys and I put the luggage in the trunk. She decided to ride in the back seat with my love, and I knew why a few minutes later, once we were on the highway. I could hear the sounds of kissing and low moans coming from behind me, and when I angled the rear view mirror, I saw the two of them locked in another deep kiss, and hands moving under clothes, fondling various parts of each other's anatomy.

They each had at least one orgasm before I got us home, and I was sporting a throbbing erection for most of the trip. After I had parked the car in the garage, I turned to the two of them and said, "I should take both of you downstairs and hook you up to something so I can whip you both for tormenting me, and then have my way with both of you to eliminate my problem."

The two women looked at each other, and Rhonda said, "I'm game if you are." Then they both started laughing, I thought mainly at the expression on my face. In the end, we decided that the best solution was to meet in the hot tub, have a beer or two, and unwind from the trip.

My love and I took our luggage home, stripped out of our clothes, and headed back across the yard to the tub. Rhonda had it started up, had put a cold six-pack in a cooler on the deck, and was in her favourite spot, getting her hip massaged by one of the jets. My love and I settled in with her, and I soon felt two different hands playing with my still-stiff penis.

After a few minutes of that treatment, the two of them urged me to sit up on the deck, and they both went after me with fingers and lips and tongues. I lasted all of about five minutes before I yelled out that I was coming, and someone's mouth closed over the head of my cock to take everything I could give. When the roaring in my ears quieted, I opened my eyes to see the two women locked in a deep kiss, sharing my cum with each other.

When they parted, Rhonda smirked at me and asked, "So, did that solve your problem? Are you done whining?"

I picked up my beer and looked at her over its neck. "I can still take you downstairs and hook you up to something, then introduce you to one of my little friends." I wasn't quite sure what was going on, but the way she looked at me, and the mysterious smile she had on her face were both giving me pause. There was something behind her look, but I wasn't sure if she wanted me to bring it out right now, so I decided to leave it until another time.

The mood changed a moment later when my love remembered about Jason and Clara. She gave Rhonda the background, then asked about having the four of us living in the little house. Rhonda agreed wholeheartedly, but a few minutes later she seemed a little pensive, and I wondered if she were having second thoughts.

A couple of days went by, and we had settled back into the routine of classes and home-making, interspersed with a little more sex than usual, partly to make up for the lack during the time at our parents. My love and Rhonda had also resumed their morning swim schedule, and the two of them were sharing orgasms on a regular basis. All told, everything seemed right with the world.

Things took on a slightly strange vibe one afternoon. My love was at the campus, in class, and I was enjoying a free afternoon by getting in a workout with the whips. It was my first opportunity since our return, and I was trying to make the most of it by working my way through the range of my favourite floggers, up to and including the big bull whip.

I was slamming the dummy with that one when I saw Rhonda out of the corner of my eye. She watched me for a minute or two, but didn't say anything, and she had a fairly serious expression on her face. I started to wonder if she was about to deliver some kind of bad news, but I left it up to her to say something, and I kept at the dummy, making the whip crack loudly against its surface.

I had my shirt off, and was only wearing a pair of shorts. My workout had been strenuous enough to cover me in sweat, and I was about ready to take a break when I saw Rhonda turn and go to one of the cabinets at one side of the dungeon. I started coiling the bull whip as I watched her strip, then put on a set of wrist cuffs. She picked up something else, but I wasn't quite sure what it was.

A moment later she was standing in front of me, and she reached out to trace her fingers lightly over my sweaty chest, following the lines of my pectorals, and down to my abs. Her touch was a little stimulating, and I could feel the first stirrings in my penis as blood began to move to it in anticipation. She turned to the collection of whips I had been using, and picked up the quirt, coiling it in her hands.

A moment later, she looked up from the little whip, and locked eyes with me. "I have a favour to ask of you. It may seem a little strange, but I think I know you well enough to ask it, and I know that you have the right skills." I wasn't sure where she was going, and for the moment I said nothing, waiting for her. She held up the quirt, and said, "I want you to whip me with this ... hard. Hang me up just by my wrists, with my toes just touching the floor." She held up the other object in her hand, which turned out to be a mask. "Blindfold me so I can't see where you're going to hit me."

"That will hurt. You know what I can do with that quirt."

"That's why I'm asking. I want this to hurt, right from the start. No warm up with a flogger. Just the quirt, and do it like you mean it."

"What's your safeword?"

"No safeword."

I raised an eyebrow. "How will I know when to stop?"

"You'll know. I trust you."

"I'm not sure I trust me for this. Are you sure?"

"Yes." She hesitated, then said, "There's one other thing." I waited for her. "When you're done, fuck me as hard as you can. No foreplay. Make it feel like rape. Just take me, any way you want, as hard as you want."

When she used the word 'rape' I got the feeling that this was some kind of fantasy that she wanted to indulge in. Her trust in me, to know when to end the whipping, and to 'rape' her without physical harm was almost overwhelming. I hadn't realized how tight a bond we had forged in these past few months. I stood there looking at her for a moment or two, then took the quirt from her and grabbed her arm to pull her over to one of the cables that hung from the ceiling.

I clipped her cuffs together, and then hooked them to the cable. With the remote in hand, I hoisted her up until she had to stand on the balls of her feet. I could see that this would give her some limited freedom of movement, since she would be able to twist around; in reality, that would simply expose a different part of her to my whip.

I hadn't put the blindfold on her yet, and I stepped in front of her, forcing her to look at me, and holding it up to her view. I thought I'd play into her fantasy a little, so the expression on my face was not friendly. "This is your last chance. Tell me what I want to know, or you will bleed under my whip, and my men will have their way with what's left of you."

Her reply surprised me a little, and it seemed that she was mentally sliding into her fantasy. "Fuck you. Do your worst. I'll never talk."

As the mask slipped over her eyes, I growled, "It is you who will be fucked, my pretty."

I stepped away from her, shaking out the quirt, and getting myself ready mentally for what I was about to do. For the first time, I was about to whip someone for the pain, and not the pleasure. This was not gentle flogging designed to bring the recipient to several crashing orgasms. This was to be a whipping to inflict pain. Yes, it was what she wanted. I only hoped it was in me to provide it, and fulfill her wishes.

The quirt was long enough that I could make it wrap from one side of her body to the other, so I decided to start by facing her, and using its length to strike at her back. I had practiced enough with this whip that I knew where it would strike without the need to actually see my target for each blow.

The first strike landed just below her left shoulder blade, and I immediately followed it with one to the right side. Both strikes were harder than usual; I knew she wanted to feel pain. I knew this particular whip would sting harshly, but it wouldn't break through the skin, even as hard as I was wielding it. I was fairly certain that I had inflicted the pain she sought when she screamed and lost her footing, twisting in her bonds. Her back ended up to me when she stopped moving, so I sent two more strikes at her, this time impacting on each of her breasts.

When she screamed again, and spun on the cable, I could see the welts on her back and across her breasts, and for an instant I wanted to throw the whip aside and take her down, ending this. I think she was concerned that I might do just that, for an instant later she sucked in a deep breath and cursed me. "Fuck! Is that all you've got? Big scary man? You're a pussy!"

I smiled to myself, as I knew exactly what she was doing. Yes, she sounded like she was trying to goad me into hitting her harder. Her screams had told a different story, as I could see that she was close to the limit of what she could take as a single strike. The reality was that she was trying to allay my concerns without breaking out of her fantasy. She was telling me to keep going, and to ignore the sounds she was making.

My next strokes landed on each cheek of her ass, and I followed those up with two more, since she hadn't moved fast enough to put them out of reach. Her feet pulled up off the floor in response to the pain, and I used the opportunity to stripe her back as she slowly spun from the cable. When her feet touched down once more, her thighs became my next target, and I watched the tip of the quirt curl around each leg until its tip struck on the very tender skin on her inner thighs. She started dancing in response, even as she yelled with the pain.

My next two hits left red stripes across her lower abdomen, ending about a half-inch above her clit, and she pulled her legs up in defence, trying to cover her mound. This once again brought her ass into prominence, so I added to the spreading red shade of its skin. I took a few steps back, and started swinging the quirt back and forth, dragging the tips across the flesh of her back, covering it from her shoulder blades down to the cleft of her rear. None of the individual hits would hurt all that much, but the cumulative effect would be devastating, as there was no break between hits. As she tried to spin away from me, I simply kept pace with her, walking around her and hitting her again and again.

My tactics changed again as I let her spin until she was once again facing me. This time I snapped the tip of the whip against her lower abdomen, then again an inch lower, and a third time, each time getting closer to her pussy. She closed her legs and pulled them up for protection, so I re-focused my attack onto her nipples. She screamed louder than before as the second snap landed on each one, and I was concerned for a moment until I saw that the little nubbins were fine, although they were cherry red.

Two more snaps to her breasts made her scream again. Since her legs were hanging down again, I sent a flurry of snaps up the outside of one and down the outside of the other. She didn't know where to put her feet, and I could see that she was weakening. Her defensive moves were not as fast, and her voice was getting hoarse from the yelling. When she only grunted in response to two full-length hits to her back, I could see that the end was coming. After the next two snaps to her rear, she was almost hanging from her wrists, and I decided to deliver the final blow.

I moved behind her, and saw that her legs were open, and dragging on the floor. I took careful aim, and snapped the quirt up from the floor so that its double tip would curl just between her legs and into her labia. The stroke landed perfectly as the tails bisected her labia and laid right alongside her clit, rasping it between them. To her, it would feel as if I had just torn her clit from her body, and the pain would be a white-hot flash in her mind.

As the pain registered, her mind simply overloaded, and she passed out, to end up hanging from her wrists. I knew she wouldn't stay out for long, so I moved quickly to lower her a few inches so that I could take the tension on her cuffs and unclip her from the cable. I carried her over to one of the benches, and laid her on her back, then re-attached her cuffs to the head of the bench.

I dropped my shorts, and reached over to slap her lightly on the face, bringing her out of her faint. As her eyes met mine, and she registered that she was no longer hanging from the cable, I drove my cock into her as fast as I could, slamming my hips into her and bottoming out in her depths.

Incredibly, she screamed and immediately came in a huge, rolling orgasm that I could see go all through her body. I grabbed her hips and started slamming myself in and out of her, and she came again after about four or five strokes. I could feel her inner muscles clamping on me and I pushed even harder to get past the resistance. A few more strokes and she came again, yelling and swearing as the spasms moved through her.

I knew I wouldn't last long, and I wondered if I could provide all the stimulation she needed. I moved a hand to her pussy, and squeezed her clit in my fingers. I knew it would be very sensitive after the whip strike. Whether it was the feel of my fingers, or the pain they were causing, she roared into another orgasm, and seemed to hang there for a long minute as I finally lost it and started spraying cum into her depths, yelling with my own release. I did my best to keep working her clit to prolong her own peak, but I felt her collapse under me a few seconds later.

We had both reached our limits, and I laid over her, catching my breath as I looked down at her. Her muscles had gone slack, but she almost seemed to have the ghost of a smile on her face. After a few seconds, I reached up to undo her cuffs, and wrapped my arms around her. I carried her limp form up the stairs, and climbed down into the hot tub, cradling her with me.

We stayed like that for several minutes, and I was beginning to think that I had been rougher on her than I had intended. She simply hung in my arms, almost draped over my lap, and her eyes remained closed while the hot water swirled round us. When she finally did move, it was to wrap her arms around my neck and pull me in for a deep, lingering kiss, filled with what I could only interpret as love.

When she broke the kiss, she moved a hand to the side of my face and looked into my eyes for another full minute. Then she kissed me again, briefly, and leaned back a little. "A while ago I said you weren't a normal teenager, and you proved it again today. I still don't know how you do it, but you can read me like a book, and you just gave me exactly what I wanted. Thank you."

"My guess is that this was some kind of fantasy scenario. Did I get it right? Did I hurt you?"

"Yes, on all counts. Yes, it is a fantasy of mine—being tortured for information, and then getting raped as part of the torture. And yes, you got it exactly right. You were at least as good as my girl used to be."

That remark made me raise my eyebrows, and the surprise must have been evident on my face. "Yeah ... she used to whip me just like that, although maybe not quite as hard. And when it was all over, she'd rape me with a strap-on, and the two of us would have a couple of screaming orgasms."

"So, how did this come to pass? If I'm not out of line for asking?"

"Since you're the guy who just fulfilled my torture fantasy, how could you be out of line? After all, you could just hook me up again and whip me until I tell you." She chuckled as she said it, then grew quiet for a moment. "It all started when I began to think that she might be more dominant than submissive. At first there was only her and me, so the only way to see which way she swung was to let her dominate me. We tried a few different scenarios, but nothing was really working; everything was just too artificial. Then one night we watched a porn flick that had a torture scene in it, just like the one you just did. We both got massively turned on by it, so we decided to try it out with each other.