Midlife Correction Ch. 02

"Okay, now Miles, we really have to talk."

He threw her things on a chair and looked at her expectantly. "You want a safe word?"

"A safe word?" Without even asking, she knew what that was, but that wasn't her concern. "No. It's about what we're getting into. I don't know if this is wise. I hardly know you, and I've never done anything like this before."

"But you trust me."

"I do, Miles, and I don't know whether I should. Miles, I don't even know what I'm getting into myself. I've been straight my whole life. I have two lovely daughters and a nice home. My ex used to have to beg me before I'd even use my mouth on him. Now look at me. I'm obsessed with this. I want it. I want all of it! I don't know what I'm doing and I'm scared out of my wits!"

"Julia, I swear I'll never hurt you. All you have to do is say your name and I'll stop. That's your safe word. Just say your name and I'll stop."

"No," she said. "It goes beyond safe words. It's what's happening to me. Why do I want this? Why does this excite me so much? I'm not like this. I'm not this kind of woman."

She turned to him. "You're a part of this world. You're experienced with this. You must know what's going on with me, why I feel like this."

He was silent for a moment, looking at her. "Maybe I'm not the best one to ask, Julia. I'm not exactly an innocent bystander here. But if you were to ask me, I'd say it's the real you coming out, Julia. It's what you really want."

"But how can that be?"

He shrugged. "How can that be? I don't know. Don't think about it so much. It doesn't mean you're a bad person, or weak, or perverted. It just works for you. It's what you want. Go with it, Julia. See where it takes you."

"If only it were that easy."

He looked at her. His eyes were glowing.

"Come here. Come over here." He went over to the posts and stood there and Julia followed.

"Take off your sweater and jeans," he said.

Julia looked at him.

"Come on. You know you want to. You want to find out what's going to happen. Look. I turned the heat way up for you so you wouldn't get cold. Julia."

"Well that's very nice. But I still can't just undress for you."

"Yes you can. You can, Julia."

And she believed him. He was right. She could do this. To find out what he had in store for her, she could undress for him.

"Turn around."

She made him turn his head and she stripped out of her sweater and jeans, not even knowing why she was doing it. She folded them neatly and placed them on a chair. When Miles turned back he made it a point of not noticing her near-nakedness. He clipped her wrists to the chains that were attached to the posts at about shoulder height. Immediately Julia felt her pulse increase. Immediately she felt her nakedness, the warm air of the room against her skin.

"If this doesn't do it, then I was totally wrong about you, Julia, but I don't think I am. If you want me to stop, just say your name. If you can't talk, just make any sort of noise three times, over and over till I stop, understand?"

"What are you going to do?"

He didn't answer

"Why wouldn't I be able to talk?"

"I might have to use the ball gag."

She was going to say something but she was too nervous. Miles stood in front of her and buckled the collar around her neck and his fingers were shaking, and Julia felt herself get wet between the legs as the collar worked its amazing and insidious magic on her. She was helpless in the chains, and that and her near nakedness and the feel of the leather collar around her throat made her almost tremble with anticipation. She didn't want to interrupt him with silly talk. Let him do what he wanted. Whatever it was, she'd find out soon enough, and she couldn't imagine him doing anything at this point she wouldn't want.

"Just seeing you like this inflames me, Julia. Just knowing I have you like this. What should I do with you? Should I fuck you? Eat you and make you come? Use a vibrator on you? Just torture you with pleasure and make you my whore?"

He walked behind her and she heard him open a drawer. She couldn't turn her head to see what he was getting, but soon he was back. He knelt before her and she felt him attaching cuffs to her ankles.

She knew what was going to happen even before he attached the chains to the ankle cuffs, pulling her legs about two feet apart. She knew why her legs were spread too, or she could imagine. There was only one reason a man forced a woman's legs apart.

She heard the swish of the whip through the air before she saw it, and then Miles came around in front of her and showed it to her. It was a flogger, a mass of thongs held together with a stout handle. The fall of the whip—the thong part—made a wicked, rushing sound as he swung it in front of her.

"If you can take the whip, you can take anything, Julia. That's why I want to do this. I have to do this to you."

She knew she should be terrified or revolted, but she wasn't. Instead, she yearned for it in a way she never would have expected, as punishment for desires that already seemed to be growing unchecked within her. She was burning with hunger and she needed the whip to somehow cool her down.

Miles looked at her, his eyes devouring her, then he dragged the thongs over the tops of her breasts and around her shoulders, studying the contrast of the leather with the paleness of her skin, and Julia shuddered. She knew what a tempting target she made. She felt it. Not just her body, but the excitement within herself asked for the whip.

"Remember what I told you about safe words," Miles said. "In case I forget myself. And now ..."

He draped the whip around Julia's neck and using the two ends as handles he pulled her forward and kissed her, kissed her hard and deep, unleashing his passion for her for the first time, the deep need he felt for her and the way she aroused him, bound and helpless in the chains. He let go of the flogger and his hands slipped around her body and down to her bottom, where he cupped her buttocks and pulled her suddenly against him. She could feel his cock pressing against her and knew that he was ready to fuck her, and she knew that, should he decide to do that, she had no way of stopping him. The thought excited her, overwhelmed her, and after all these years of going without she felt herself giving up, opening her mouth to him in surrender. If that's what he wanted, she was ready. His hand went to her hair and he pulled her head back as he feasted on her mouth, and Julia leaned back in the chains, trusting them to hold her.

It would be Miles, she thought. It would be this man she'd just met, who'd put cuffs on her wrists and had read her desires and knew what she wanted. He'd be the one to end this long drought, the first man she'd sleep with since the divorce seven years ago.

Miles stepped back, leaving her dizzy and disoriented. He took the whip from around her neck and went behind her, and suddenly the whip was sliding across her back and brushing against her bottom, teasing, cloying. She felt him draw back, and then the flogger landed softly on her ass, the thongs brushing against panties like the kiss of surf upon a shore.

He repeated the stroke, and then again, and Julia hung her head and concentrated on the sensation. Miles quickly fell into a rhythm. The whip landed with a rich, sodden sound against her flesh and left a mild tingle of stimulation. Julia stood in the chains, uncertain what her reaction should be. It didn't hurt, yet she was beingwhipped, something no one had ever done to her, and as Miles continued, he increased the force of the blows so the mild stimulation became a mild spank, then a firm slap and finally a fiery sting that left an erotic glow that seeped deep beneath her skin into the muscles of her buttocks and became a kind of glorious punishment, sinful and sexual. She began to shift her bottom, anticipating where the whip would fall, directing him to different parts of her anatomy that needed this cruel and salacious attention. She became aware that she was groaning softly, humming in her throat with a kind of reluctant approval as he slowly lit her up body with the incandescent whip.

"Oh! Oh, Miles! Miles, God!"

She was getting aroused, shamefully aroused, the heat from the whipping reaching deep into her pussy, making it throb. She pulled at the chains but they held her wrists firmly. She tried to close her legs, but her ankles were held apart too. It wasn't pain exactly, not really. It was something else. Something wicked and inescapable, sinfully delicious and maddening.

"You know your safe word," he said. "If you want me to stop, use it."

She moaned. She knew it, all right, but she didn't want him to stop. She was headed for something, something wonderful and transcendent. With each hissing slap of the flogger on her ass, she was heading closer for some pinnacle of release and she didn't want him to stop now, but she was afraid to continue, afraid of what this release would be and what it would say about her.

Not even when she felt him take hold of her panties and pull them down her thighs did she think of telling him to stop. There was an urgency in his touch, a possessive roughness as he grabbed the flimsy garment and tugged it down, exposing her naked backside, red and marked, criss-crossed from the blows he'd already delivered. He stopped and ran his hand over her burning flesh as if admiring his work, and she waited for him to squeeze, to grab her and take possession of her. She was ready for it, to surrender to him, but with some sort of superhuman resistance he pulled back and the whip came down again, falling now on her tender skin, thrilling her with its immediacy, blending pain with pleasure.

"Oh my God!" Julia cried out, her head falling back. "Oh! Oh!"

She hadn't realized how loud she'd been but Miles stopped immediately. He picked up the ball gag and placed it in her mouth, bright red, lurid and obscene. He buckled the leather strap around the back of her head.

"I don't want to take any chances," he said. "It gets intense from here on out. You remember the signal, Julia. Three cries, repeated. That's the only thing that will make me stop. Otherwise you can scream your head off."

Julia didn't fight him. She mewled piteously into the gag as Miles buckled it around her neck, and as he picked up the flogger, his words sunk into her brain.You can scream your head off...

He resumed his stance behind her and took up where he'd left off, whipping her naked ass with long, easy strokes then switching to a short, rapid, figure eight, back and forth, back and forth. Julia moaned, she whimpered, and finally she screamed against the gag when the sensations were too much, but all her sounds were muffled, and she suddenly found the glory of vocal release, of yelling as loud as she wanted, giving voice to the incredible sensations she felt as Miles whipped her and drove her onward and upward into the arms of her pleasure.

"Give it to me, Julia!" he said as he pulled her panties even farther down her legs. "Give it to me. I know you're close. You're going to spill it aren't you? You're going to spill it right here in the chains from being beaten like a whore, like a slave. Come on, Julia! Do it for me!"

"Nnngh! Mmmph!"

No, she thought.No, I can't do it. I can't let myself orgasm from being whipped. I won't let it happen!

But Miles changed his target and began to bring the flogger up between her legs from behind, the thongs landing against Julia's unprotected sex, and that was too much for her. She pulled at the chains and her legs trembled and she cried out behind the gag but that didn't stop him. One after another the blows came, each one like a hammer stroke driving home the spike of her pleasure and shame. Julia went rigid, her muscles tight, and for an instant she stood there like Samson pulling at the pillars of the temple, then her strength failed her and she collapsed.

Miles rushed to catch her, dropping the flogger and grabbing her from behind, holding her up and crushing her against him as she shook and trembled in her orgasm, pressing his lips against the collar around her neck. He held her like something precious, as if he'd just caught her after she'd fallen from a great height, and he held her securely, soothing her, whispering to her as she groaned and sobbed.

As soon as she'd quieted down, he removed the gag, unclipped her wrists and her ankles, picked her up bodily, and carried her over to the bed, where he laid her down.

"Hurry," she gasped. "Please, Miles. Take me."

H looked at her reluctantly and shook his head. "No," he said. "I can't do that."

Julie was in shock. "What? What are you saying?"

"I can't do that that, Julia. You're not ready."

"I'm not ready? Oh my God! What are you talking about?"

"I told you before. This is more than sex, Julia."

"Miles, you can't do this to me! You can't leave me like this."

He came over to her and tilted her head back so he could kiss her lips. She was still in her underthings, her panties soaked with her arousal. He kissed her with an aching tenderness, as if afraid to get too close to her, but he wouldn't let himself join her on the bed. She trembled when he kissed her and reached for him, but he pulled away. He ran his hands over her collar.

She stared at him in disbelief for a moment. He said, "Get dressed, Julia, and go home. We're through for the night."

"Why you son of a—"

"Julia!" He cut her off with an angry glare. "Don't even think it, Julia. I know what I'm doing and I said we're done for the night. This is as far as we can go. Call me later. Maybe I can explain."

He walked to the back door and unlocked it. "Here. You can let yourself out this way. I have business in the shop. I'll see you again. Meanwhile, I don't want any more outbursts like that. You have to trust me, Julia."

And with that he walked out into the front of the store. She heard the door lock behind her.

Julia sat alone on the bed in her bra and panties. The cuffs were on her wrists, the other set were on her ankles and the collar was fastened around her neck. Her body was sheened with perspiration and her ass still stung from the depredations of the whip, but she was alone. She'd been ready to give herself, ready to let him fuck her—was dying for him to fuck her—but he hadn't been interested, and she burned with anger and frustration and humiliation. The heavy pressure of pent-up sexual desire made her ache, brought her to the edge of tears.

Angrily, she unbuckled the collar from around her neck as if it were the cause of her problems and threw it on the bed, then she did the anklets and the cuffs. She was tempted to leave them there as a way of telling him she was through, but the idea of separating herself from these things was out of the question, and she stuffed them into her bag.

What was wrong with him? What was wrong with her? Why had he rejected her like this? She felt chastised and humiliated.This is as far as we can go? What the hell did that mean?

She dressed quickly, noticing the tight pain in her buttocks a she lifted her legs to step into her jeans. For a moment she thought of going into the front of the shop and having it out with him but she wasn't sure what she'd say, and, besides, she knew she didn't have the moral authority to challenge him. This was all new to her and shameful, and he held all the cards.

She was suddenly seized by the urge to cry—cry for what she'd become and what was happening to her, cry for loneliness and confusion and shame. He did hold all the cards, and she wanted him fiercely, wanted him even as he'd rejected her. Wanted him even because he'd rejected her. She didn't want to be abandoned like this—ignored.

She quickly gathered up her things and got her coat, looked back at the two posts she'd been bound to, then pushed out the door and into unexpected cold of the wintry night. The door slammed closed after her and she found herself on the street once again.