NSFW Author

Emily cooked supper for us still wearing her dress, but I was allowed to dress properly for the meal while she did so.

Patrick watched me get dressed and was very interested to hear me narrate the day back to him. I tried to spare as little details as possible, calling him “Master” almost at the end of each of my sentences.

I know he wanted me to feel like his wife, but it was almost impossible while still wearing the chastity belt.

I knew he didn’t simply forget to remove it because he complimented me on how well I looked while wearing only the belt. I blushed a little and he took the opportunity to kiss me passionately while caressing the belt itself.

I could see a visible bulge in his pants when I explained how I used the strap-on on Emily and I had the clear impression I would have to repeat the performance of his appreciation soon.

We were called by Emily to the table and we ate supper at the table like a normal family.

Everyone was properly dressed and pleasant and no mention of sex, BDSM or slavery was done. We spoke of the supper itself, the weather and of Patrick’s day at the office.

Once it was done however, the girls went up to the master bedroom and Emily quickly stripped completely naked before laying bare on the bed.

Patrick quickly joined us with a kitchen chair and simply sat in the corner of the bedroom with a perfect vantage point to the play area.

I assumed that I had to once again use the strap-on, but instead, I was told to spank Emilie as hard as I could and as long as I could.

I was hesitant, but Emilie rose her ass in the air in a doggy position and I quickly spanked her a first time, leaving a jolt of pain in my hand where my skin had touched her’s.

I was ordered to continue by Patrick and so I did for roughly 20 times until I had to rest my arm from the muscle pain.

Emily took it quite easily, as if I was barely touching her. Perhaps she had experience but I certainly know I had never really spanked anyone before in this fashion.

I was told to continue with the other arm and I did for perhaps another dozen of times until my left arm too was sore.

I was allowed to sit on the bed to rest while Patrick fetched a box from the garage which he simply deposed in front of him.

“You will have to place 30 clothespins on her breasts and 20 on her labia. Here, go ahead…”

I was given a bag containing the mentioned wooden clothespins. Emily laid on her back to help me out and even pointed where I should place the next ones. Soon enough, she had 15 pins on each of her breasts roughly in a circle around the nipple and 10 on each side of her vagina, squeezing her labia.

At first, she didn’t seem to mind, but slowly, she began to visibly repress the pain and tears even began to roll down her cheeks.

After a few more minutes, Patrick asked me to remove them, one by one. Emily protested, but I obeyed my master.

What I didn’t know, was that removing the pins was even more painful than placing them on. Emily screamed of pain as I slowly removed one by one each of the 50 torture implements leaving deep marks within her skin.

I could see within her eyes that she was slowly trying to withdraw within her own mind but when the last pin was back into the box, Patrick gave me instead a long wooden paddle.

Without letting his wife recover, she was asked to turn over to present her back, an action she slowly and apparently painfully performed.

As soon as she was in place, I smacked her hard on the ass making her cry from the pain. I didn’t try to necessarily aim for the still red areas where my hand had struck, but I wasn’t an expert in aiming this thing.

After 5 hits, Patrick swapped the paddle for one with many holes pierced into the wood. To my surprise, the paddle hit even harder on Emilie’s ass due to the reduction of the air resistance and the increased pinching on her skin.

After another 5 hits, Patrick gave me yet another paddle, this time one which was a lot narrower with the same holes drilled in a regular pattern.

To my horror however, there were studs fixed on the other side and after 5 powerful hits, I was ordered to turn the paddle to the other side.

After a single shot on her now completely red buttocks, Emilie began begging me to stop and Patrick to let me stop.

She confessed it was too much and that she wanted to stop. That it was way too much pain for her to endure.

But Patrick ordered me to continue, going back to 0.

On the second new hit, Emilie begged again. Her voice was modulated by the pain and I believe that I could see purple spots forming on the skin.

But once again Patrick ordered me to continue, going back to 0.

This time, Emilie stayed silent, but she bit her left hand to try and deflect the pain. My heart hurt from seeing the poor woman suffer like this and I was unable to understand what could make her want this.

But after 5 hits, Patrick wasn’t done. He swapped the paddle for a cane and Emilie jumped off the bed, crying and yelling she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Slut, assume your position. You are now at 6 hits. Position yourself or I will make her go to 10.”

Emily, still sobbing, went back on the bed and I could see her inserting her fingernails deep into the palm of her hands, drawing some blood.

The first hit even surprised me. The cane didn’t offer any sort of air resistance and the noise it made when hitting the skin was a lot more painful to my ears than I could imagine.

It wasn’t that it was loud. It was that it resonated through my whole arm. While I dealt the second blow, I prayed that I would never be subjected to this torture.

The third blow cut her skin and made her bleed a little. The fourth cut a little deeper. It would take days to heal.

But Patrick had something else in mind for the last 2 hits. He had her turn over once more and it took her ever longer to finish the move.

I dealt the last two blows on her breasts, which were still hurting from the clothespin.

Patrick asked me to go sleep on the sofa downstairs for the night, saying he would take care of Emily himself.

I went to leave the room, but he stopped me.

“Leave the clothes here…” were his only words.

Soon enough, I was asleep, naked, on the living room sofa despite being uncomfortable. I found comfort in the fact that unlike Emily, I wasn’t hurt anywhere today.