Claude's Punishment

My boyfriend Claude and I have been living together for three years now. When I first moved into his apartment (a move we had considered for more than six months) it seemed as if we could not get enough of each other. When he came home from work (he teaches high school English at the school where I work as a librarian) I would often be there waiting for him, wearing much less than I had worn to work myself and kissing him as he came through the door. We would make our way to the bedroom, where dinner would only come as an afterthought.

After three years of living together our thoughts of making love have drifted to the back burner, gradually crowded out by the mundanities of life. Job concerns, automotive maintenance, putting food into the pantry, all these and a million other things have eclipsed our sex life. Now instead of coming home to me, Claude will often go out drinking with friends. I know he was not cheating on me, he would never do it and I trust him completely, but when he comes home late, after several rounds of beer with his friends, he comes in and after mumbling a greeting, he takes off his shoes and pants and crawls into bed and falls asleep. While I do not entirely begrudge him the time he spent with his friends, as I have been known to join my friends for a ladies night out, but still it seemed that all to often he had time to spend with his friends and not with me.

Even on nights when he does not go out with his friends it seems that there is always something he is doing and not spending time with me. Whether he is grading student papers or watching sports on TV there always seems to be something occupying him, taking him away from spending time with me. I longed for those days, early in our relationship, when it seemed that our lust for each other knew no bounds.

Tonight it was a Friday night and I was determined not to take no for an answer. I knew that he would be coming home a bit late because he always stayed after on Fridays to give a little extra help to his AP students. I had prepared his favorite meal, steak with baked potato, and spinach salad. I had even gone out and got a bottle of a central Californian zinfandel that we both liked.

I met him at the door wearing my favorite short black dress I knew he liked, with black stockings and heels and greeted him with a glass of wine. I had even done my makeup, something I rarely bothered with on a night we were both spending at home.

"Janelle?" he asked upon seeing me, his eyes gone wide with surprise.

"Here," I said handing him the glass of wine.

"Thank you,"

"Why don't you come in an have some dinner, I made your favorite."

I led him into the TV room where we usually ate. Instead of the television, which was usually on when he arrived home, I had put some jazz on the stereo.

"Why don't you sit down and I will bring you dinner."

Without a word he sat down in his usual place on the couch and reached for the universal remote.

"Ah, why don't we try to do without the idiot box tonight?"

"Sure," he said, reluctantly putting down the remote. I knew there was a football game on he wanted to watch, but I had no intention of letting him. Not tonight.

I went to the kitchen and got both of our dinner plates and brought them out to him. Handing him his plate, I put mine on the coffee table we ate at. I walked back to the kitchen and got the butter, cheese and sour cream for the potatoes and then returned to the TV room. He had said nothing more about the way I was dressed and I guess I was a little hurt. Could he not see all the effort I had gone to on his behalf. As tears welled in my eyes, I did my best to hold them back. I would not get mad; I would get even. Claude had already started eating his steak when I returned. I choose to ignore the rudeness of his not waiting for me. Mentally I added this to list of the things that I would be punishing him for.

We ate dinner without conversation. He is a rapid eater, in my opinion not savoring his food, so as usual he finished before me. He sat silently and waited for me to finish. When I finished I picked up both our dishes and took them and put them in the sink. After I finished washing off the dishes and putting them into the dishwasher I picked up a pair of leather wrist restraints I had stashed in the kitchen I returned to the TV room.

When I returned he had already turned on the television and was watching his football game. Holding the restraints up on display I stood waiting for his attention. It was several seconds before he noticed me there. He was engrossed in the game and my being there was, as usual, superfluous to him. Finally he looked up at me and when he saw the restraints in my hand he gave me a quizzical look and then looked back at the game.

"You've been very bad and will need to be punished."

"What?" he asked, still not looking away from the game.

"You heard me, bad boy. Turn off the TV and come with me."

"What? I am watching the game."

"Come to the bedroom, now!" I said in my most demanding voice. "Come with me to the bedroom, or I am going to pack my things and leave." After I said it I knew that I meant it. For to long I had been forced to wait for him. The long nights when he had been out with his friends and I had sat at home craving his attention. He would either submit to my wishes now, or I was gone.

With a bewildered look on his face he followed me to the bedroom. "What are those for he asked," pointing at the restraints.

"Come to the bedroom and find out," I said.

"Sit," I commanded, indicating the chair at the small desk we used to do the bills. I had turned the chair away from the desk so that it faced the foot of the bed. He sat in the chair, as commanded. Pulling his hands behind the chair I put the restraints on his wrists. With a piece of rope I had placed under the bed, I bound the restraints to the chair so that he could not get up.

"Aren't you going to blindfold me?" he asked.

"No, I want you to watch."

"Okay," he said, not really knowing what I had planned.

"I want you to see what I do when I am home here alone and you go out drinking with your friends," I said, undoing the back of my dress, and letting it slide off. After hanging the dress I walked back to the bed. Now clad in only a matching set of black bra and panties, garter belt and stockings, I sat down on the bed in front of him.

"You look nice," he said.

"Sure, you say that now, but it hasn't stopped you from ignoring me these last few months. Ignoring my needs. I've been forced to take care of myself," I said, blatantly lying. With my fingers I started massaging my breasts through my bra, first cupping my breasts and then massaging my nipples. I did my best to show him how much I was enjoying myself, craning my neck and softly moaning. All to soon I was not pretending to enjoy myself any more; it was starting to feel good and I felt my nipples harden.

After several minutes of playing with my breasts I wanted more, so after sliding the straps off of my shoulders, I reached around my back to unhook the bra, and after taking it off I threw it to the side of the bed. All this while Claude had been silent, watching me. I could see the desire building in his eyes along with the bulge in his pants, but I had no intention of letting him release his desire any time soon. As I massaged my breasts I imagined that my hands were his hands, playing with my breasts. Claude is a breast lover and one of the reasons that we got together is his infatuation with my breasts. They are about the size of apples and as I ran my hands over them and pinched the nipples I tried to remember all the times that he had gotten me so hot by toying with them.

"This is what I have been forced to do, without you," I complained. "Without you to help me out have been forced to take matters into my own hands, literally."

Lifting my breast up I put my hard nipple to my mouth. I gently massaged it with my tongue. That felt so good, I always loved when he sucked my nipples. Lifting my other breast to my mouth I briefly sucked on its nipple. After so long without any sexual stimulation, just my playing with my breasts was driving me crazy. I could already feel the wet spot growing in my panties.

"Don't worry, baby, I'll take care of you," he said, his eyes full of desire.

"No, you're going to sit and watch me get myself off, and then if you've been good we'll see."

I was determined to make him suffer. For so many nights he had ignored me and now I was going to return the favor. I was going to ignore him, and watch him suffer. I was curious how much he could take. Although he was securely bound to the chair, the chair was an old wooden chair I had had since I was young, and any serious attempt to escape on his part would destroy rickety chair. In reality he could get out of the chair anytime he wanted to.

Taking my hand I slid it beneath the waistband of my panties and ran my index finger down over my clit. It was like a shock of electricity went through me as my finger hit my clit. I closed my eyes and savored the feeling of my fingers running over my nether folds. Why had I not done this for myself before? It felt so good. For several minutes I was in a universe by myself with nothing but the pangs of pleasure I was generating as I played with myself. Pushing my finger up into myself, I fell back on the bed and savored the feel of filling the hole that had so long been empty. I put a second finger in and began to frig myself. It felt so good, running my fingers up inside of me, I could not help but start moaning.

After several minutes I remembered that Claude was watching. Poor Claude. By now I now he must be in misery. Sitting up I looked down the bed at him, my hand still buried in my panties.

"Are you done?" he asked, trying to feign nonchalance, but the tent in his pants told a different story.

"Not nearly," I said, lifting my legs and taking my now sodden panties off, up over my high heels. Holding them up I flung them at his head. They glanced off the side of his face, leaving a shiny wet streak across his cheek.

"Hey," he cried.

Ignoring him for the moment I went back to playing with my pussy. I lay on my back on the bed, my legs now spread so that he could have a clear view of my wet box. Taking my index and middle finger, I ran them over my now exposed folds. The pleasure came back as I explored myself. I could get used to this, I thought. I could, but there was something else I wanted. Getting up for the moment I went to the nightstand where I had put the vibrator I had bought two days before. Not knowing a thing about sex toys I had gone into the adult store in our neighborhood and asking for help. The nice girl there had suggested a pink rabbit vibrator. It had been a bit more expensive than I was expecting, but I figured that I owed it to myself, so I bought it.

Taking it out of the nightstand I held it up in so that Claude could see it.

"See what you reduced me to," I complained. Walking back over to where he was sitting I sat back down on the bed, legs spread, in front of him. Taking the vibe I held it up to my mouth, taking it in and licking it with my tongue. I do not know why I did this, at this point my pussy was in need of no further lubrication, with my juices flowing down to wet the sheet beneath me, but it just seemed that it would tease him more. For several minutes I sucked my vibe and watched him, his mouth hanging open with desire. With my eyes, looking at him imploringly, I tried to say this could be you and I am sure that the message came across loud and clear.

Taking the vibe out of my mouth I turned it on and inserted it into my pussy. Oh god that felt good and I moaned with pleasure as it slid into me. Just inserting the vibe into myself and I felt myself slowly falling down the cliff into orgasm.

"Mmmmmmm," I moaned as the rabbit reached my clit and started to massage it. It did not take any more than five or six slow strokes of the vibe in and out of my pussy till I came. With the rabbit vibrating my clit I laid back on the bed, and closing my eyes, I reveled as the waves of pleasure racked my body. Why had I waited so long to do this?

"Mmmm...yess," I moaned as my pussy convulsed in pleasure.

Recovering from my orgasm I looked back up at Claude. He looked miserable tied down to the chair and I imagined the pain of his erection traped in his pants must be excruciating. I decided that I would take pity on him. Putting the vibe aside on the nightstand, I got out of bed and stood up next to him.

"Are you done?" he asked now with a bored look on his face, and the bulge in his crotch showing the lie of his expression.

My pity for him instantly evaporated. "No, I'm not." I said. I walked up to where he sat and straddled the chair in front of him, pushing my crotch into his face. "Lick me," I commanded.

He instantly obeyed, pushing his tongue into my sex. I put my hands on the back of his head and forced his head down into me. He started licking slowly at first, but soon built speed, his tongue fluttering over my clit.

"Mmmm, yes, yes, yes," I moaned as he flayed my clit with his tongue. "Are you going ignore me any more?"

"Nmo," he answered, his voice muffled by my pussy.

"What? I can't hear you," I demanded.

"NMO!" he answered, louder this time.

"Now lick my clit." He did and it felt so good. Claude is really an excellent pussy licker, and that is one of the reasons I fell in love with him. Most guys just do not do a good job of eating pussy. They only do it so that you will fuck them afterwards and their hearts are not really in it. Claude on the other hand really likes licking pussy. He told me on several occasions that he liked the noises that I made when he does it, and right now he had me panting.

"Yes. Oh Claude, yes," I moaned, and soon I was cumming all over his face.

It felt so good to have him eating my pussy again but after several minutes of this treatment I wanted something more. I wanted his cock in me. It was time to release him. Backing off I looked down at his face covered with my juices. He was trying to lick it off, but there was just too much. Reaching down I undid the rope that was binding him to the chair. He instantly got out of the chair and turned his back to me so I could release his hands.

"Oh no, I'm not done with you yet. Sit here," I said, pointing to the bed. Without a word he obeyed, sitting down in front of me. First I unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off of him so it fell to his back, his bound hands still through the sleeves. Undoing his pants I pulled them and his boxers down around his ankles, exposing his erect cock. I pushed him back on the bed and climbed on top of him. I imagine that being forced to lie back on his wrist restraints must be painful, but I did not care. He deserved it.

"Now this is what I have been wanting," I cried as I guided him into me. Sliding down on his cock I sighed with pleasure. How long had it been since I had felt him in me, it felt like it had been forever. It had been way too long.

Soon I was riding his cock. Up and down, up and down, and up and down, my stockings rubbing up against his sides. It felt so good to have him in me again and I was moaning and cumming within seconds.

"Mmmm, yes, fuck me Claude," I moaned as I came again.

It did not take him long either. He is the silent type and does not say anything when he cums, but he gets this look in his eyes and I know. And there it was that look and that sly smile.

It was good to have my man back again.