The Trophy Wife Ch. 02

This work may or may not be a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are the products of my imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over the age of 18. I recommend you read Chapter 1 of Trophy Wife to give you the background of this final chapter. A special thanks to susangreenway for editing this story.

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Just when Anita was fulfilling my fantasies and pushing my limits, things changed!

I learned that a bottom who becomes a top is called a "switch." When fantasy becomes reality, it may be more than you expect.

I had been reading "Variations" letters for years before meeting Anita. And, I had purchased sundry other books with fetish and BDSM themes.

In the beginning I found it interesting that such a beautiful woman as Anita exacted her unique pleasure from being a domme, or top, as she like to be called. For her, it was not an act, but an active lifestyle that gave her the release she desired. In many ways, I was the vessel or bottom that provided her pleasure.

During our many conversations on the veranda before our sessions began, she explained that there were distinct types of lifestyles within the BDSM community. She told me that what I had read in books were made-up fantasies. The reality of it all with her was different. What she practiced was unique. It was not acting.

She also found pleasure in fulfilling some of my fantasies. It was the reality of these active sessions that satisfied something deep inside of me. It was also refreshing that other people had these same desires or enjoyed exploring several types of release. Of course, along the way, she exacted her personal unusual pleasure too!

My erotic reading only extended my fantasies created by my imagination. I think of all the kinky stuff that had occupied my mind over the years and how I used it to masturbate.

Yes, beautiful Anita brought me to higher excitement levels or limits, and I was more than smitten. You may say I was addicted to these higher orgasm levels. I could not get enough of it. I wanted my limits pushed and she pushed my limits.

****

I remember this one afternoon well. Fall was in the air. The afternoon shadows gave a different look as we had lunch at the French restaurant. I took the rest of the day off. Sometimes I worked 60 hours a week, so there was no problem taking time off. Two weeks had passed, and I was ready for some more of our unique release.

She started by asking me questions about being dominant and being a boss. Was I a stern boss or easy going? I told her I was an objective boss, firm, outworked my employees, and I led by example. She continued to ask questions like that.

Her green eyes sparkled in the dappled sunlight. I could tell she was braless, and I could tell her nipples were hard. That combined with her beauty and perfume had my head spinning.

Lunch was turning into some sort of interview. She rarely touched me in public, but she leaned across the table and rubbed my arm. I felt all kinds of emotion from her touch but most significantly was the feeling of some deep burning desire in her. Her eye contact captured me. Nothing like I had felt before when she had touched me. It was as if she were pleading for something.

"Today is your graduation day, and you will take control from me," she said. "Always remember the bottom is the one in control. I knew you were a "switch" the first time we met."

I was confused again. She further explained, "Certain bottoms can also be tops and this type of person is called a switch." I thought, "switch" that is an interesting term."

"I know only you can give me the type of release I need as a submissive." She further explained, "It is a psychological and emotional release."

It is so hard to remember all of her exact words. I can assure you this was the most in-depth discussion we ever had about our special times together.

"I need to cry and whimper emotionally."

I was not sure what was going to come next, but when we got to her house, she led me directly to the special room. It was more than a dungeon. She gave me leather chaps and asked me to wear them. She walked out and said she would be right back. I noticed the chaps did not cover my balls or penis.

She came into the room with heavy make-up on and with dark shadows around her eyes. What set me back was the wide collar she wore on her neck and clip leather cuffs on her wrists. She looked beautiful yet surreal.

She broke an amyl nitrate ampule and we both sniffed it. It was strong in my head, and she said, "I will guide you this first time. I don't want you to act but I want you to get into it and let go."

I knew a lot from my reading what tops did but her version of BDSM was different. Having never taken the lead as a top, you know, I was game for this.

We first we proceeded to the (Saint Andrews) cross with all kinds of straps on it. She gave me what I later learned was an expensive flogger to start out with. It was made of high-quality leather with long ribbons of suede.

Then I connected her to the cross. Her body was a work of art in itself. Her back was to me with her legs spread.

She said, "Spin the flogger in a circular motion like a cartwheel. Remember that skin itself is a sexual organ. Use it lightly to caress first, then light smacks, and then harder smacks."

And I did from the back of her neck, down her back to her butt cheeks, to her calves, then her feet bottoms. Harder, softer, repeat finding a cadence. This flogger did not create whelps but only left a pink blush on her skin.

The flogger's long suede leather strands of soft leather moved in a way that I could caress or smack. It was heavy in my hand.

She told me, "Correctly used it would stimulate the skin and provide her with a sexual response. Think soft and hard and make my skin pink."

She had me rotating the flogger like a paddle wheel smacking her bottom. Then she told me her safe word was "blue," my favorite color!

"Harder master Bob!" I almost shit on the floor, not Bobby. But master Bob...I was in control!

Again, I started up at her neck with a sideways rotation of the flogger. She sighed, as I worked down her back, soft and hard, those magic leather fingers causing such an interesting response from her. I was getting stiff.

I surprised her with her legs spread open on the cross, I alternated teasing her vulva and clit with my left hand as I moved the flogger hitting the back of her body in a cadence that was almost musical. Neck, ribs, arms, waist, butt cheeks, thighs, calves and then the feet. These were light and hard smacks of the leather fingers, mostly stimulating her skin to pink.

She requested special attention to the soles of her feel saying, "Harder, please harder."

And, so it escalated, and then something happened to me. Of course, I was aroused. She was excited and wet, but there was something that happened to my demeanor. Past transgressions she had imposed on me were extinguished. It was part of my mental flow, a strange release without orgasm was happening in my mind.

Every inch of her skin was a sexual organ. She was leaking down her right leg and the flogger had given her skin the required pink flush. She was breathing hard and moaning lightly.

At this moment I owned her, and I was going to exact my new level of pleasure.

In the background I heard, "Harder," And so it went until she said, "Now between my legs and rotate hard. Spin the flogger in an upward circular motion. That's it, I'm getting so hot."

While it hit her vulva smartly with a slapping sound, she became wetter. There was a heavier flow running down her leg. She was breathing deeply.

"Take me down and spin me around on my back," She whispered, almost out of breath.

Of course, I avoided her face, so, soft and hard on her shoulders and then to her nipples. She was moaning differently with soft and hard application of the flogger on her breasts. The way she was shaking, I thought she was having small orgasms. Nipple orgasms, how interesting!

More of the same on the front of her body, belly pelvic area, upper thighs, and the down to the tops of her feet. I noticed the flogger was leaving little red marks, but they would disappear after a while leaving the desired slight pink blush.

She then directed me to wheeling it harder at her vulva, "Harder, please harder on my pussy master Bob."

And that spurred me on, and her labia lips were extended, she was sloppy wet and the leather on the flogger was wet. Her clit seemed twice the size and she wanted it harder. I was afraid that I would cause it to have welts or something.

Again, I figured out I was in control, and I could do what I wanted. I leaned down pushed my tongue from the bottom of her labia slowly separating the lips coming to a resting point just below the hooded clit. It was big, I pushed my tongue as hard as I could on both sides of her labia, something I had learned in Southeast Asia. She gave a pleasurable sigh. Acupressure points on both sides were pushed, almost moving her whole body forward and I stopped and waited.

I knew this created anticipation and waited until she started to hunch my tongue. Then I sucked in her clit, lightly bit down on it, and flicked the tip of the clit with my tongue as fast as I could. As she got closer to orgasm, I bit harder and flicked harder, her back arched and she came violently. I placed two fingers in her vagina and lifted up to her G spot and pushed back and forth. She was shaking all over having one orgasm after another.

"Breathe Anita, breathe," I ordered.

I unhooked her into my arms and carried her over to the black leather bed. I had read about "after care" when the hormones flooded the body almost to the point of unconsciousness and she fell asleep in my arms.

At that point I was ready for relief. I would just have to wait. I would not do anything while she was in that state.

After an hour, she awoke and slid down and gave me a blow job. She was good at it and did it very slowly. I was exhausted and ready to doze off.

Then she said, "Please leave."

It was a sad request. Driving home I had discovered I was uniquely different. These past months with her were a turning point in my life.

*****

A week went by before I received a call from her. She sounded as if she had been crying. I was concerned. Was I feeling empathy or love in that moment?

I went to her house and the maid took me to the veranda. A cool Fall air was blowing across the lake. It chilled me. We talked for about an hour. She said that was the most fantastic orgasm she had ever experienced last time. I told her more about my time in Thailand. She wanted me to be in control again.

We went to that special room. We discarded clothing and I took her over to the 'horse,' put her belly down and tied down only her hands like she had done to me so many times. I decided to start with a hand spanking. It was now my turn to really play and do what I wanted to do. I remembered that she wanted to whimper and cry to achieve the release she wanted.

The tactile feel of her butt and thighs as I smacked them were taking me to a higher level. I now understood her feeling of being in control. Her butt muscles contracting and relaxing caused me to rub and squeeze them both hard and soft. This contact was driving me wild.

She had so much BDSM gear on the shelves and on the walls, I did not know what to use on her. Then I decided to just use the paddle she used on me. I worked on both cheeks and alternated flicking her clit until she was "hot" as she put it. That did not take long. The alternating pain of the paddle with pleasure of teasing her clit had her whimpering but not crying.

I found a little stool where I could sit with eye view to her vagina, got some lube and the old "my turn to play doctor" rang in my ears. I could do anything I wanted to do to this beautiful woman. I used my fingers and thumbs like I was taught in Thailand to find the right sexual acupressure points on and around her vagina without entering it. Her honey was flowing again like before.

Pushing down hard on the outer lips with my thumbs toward her clit and then smacking it, I finally slid three fingers in her vagina and found the "Lift" which is now called the "G" spot. I pushed down in a circular flicking motion while slapping her butt with my other hand very hard.

She kept saying, "That is it, that's it, don't stop."

Then I could tell she was crying. It seemed more out of emotion than pain. All of a sudden both of her legs came up and almost knocked me off the stool as she arched in a big orgasm.

I repositioned her down on the horse, put on a lubricated condom and inserted my penis in her ass as slowly as I could. As I fucked her and picked up speed, I pushed on certain acupressure points on her butt which enhanced her pleasure. Her sighs and moans built up to where she had several large orgasms; I was not that sure because she was also quivering and crying so much. I came very hard.

I unhooked her and thought we would snuggle on the bed, but she said, "Please clean up and meet me on the veranda." And then she walked out of the room. I thought wow, that was cold!

Out on the veranda, drinks in hand, she said thank you, which she did not often say. There was a sadness in her voice. We drank in silence. I was then dismissed as before.

But on the way out I heard her yell out, "You graduated today!"

On my ride home I thought I liked being in control. It was eye opening. I had found myself in the eye of a strange sexual storm.

*****

Later in the week I went to adult toy store and purchased a few more books on BDSM scenes. I read them cover to cover several times. If there was a next time for me to be the top, I wanted to be better prepared and seem more knowledgeable. Yet, her version of BDSM was closer to reality than the fiction in those books. I was beginning to believe most of what I read was about was only role playing and it was not the reality of BDSM of what I was experiencing.

I was apprehensive but something inside of me wanted to experience more. My confusion centered around being better as a top. Before I was smitten with her and her beauty by being the bottom, it had been almost comforting. The change to being the top and the shear act of her giving up control to me was a release in itself.

In many ways it was so heady! I had studied the books I had purchased and saw a few new DVDs but knew most of that was farce. I really wanted to please her by finding her pain and pleasure limits and push her beyond where she had ever been. I wondered if I really could ring her bell. I wish I knew what I know today. I would not have been so clumsy but would have been better prepared.

I don't remember the date or even the time of day, I just remember we were to have more than two hours together. She met me at the door barefoot and in a sun dress. The dress was long and almost see-through.

"We need to have a quick discussion on the veranda," she said. It was late afternoon.

She made us drinks; she had some sort of cocktail and she made me bourbon and water. I remember the bourbon and water because it was strong and smooth, old expensive stuff.

She said, "My only limit is to not draw blood."

Shit, I couldn't do anything like that.

"The bottom is always in control," she said. "To be a good top you had to be a good bottom first. My safe word is 'blue.' I don't want you to act. Please find it within yourself to be the one in total control."

She did spend some time discussing the top's role in a scene, I just don't remember all of it.

We walked slowly down a hall to the room. It was like she was reluctant or maybe coy. I was nervous. She turned on the music in the room (I now know it was Beethoven's Piano Concerto no. 4). I did not know at the time what piece of music it was. When she flipped off her dress, I knew I was ready. She is such a beauty.

I secured her to the cross on her stomach. I was dripping. I selected a riding crop with a little square piece of leather at the end. It felt expensive. It was made of fine wood and leather. The grip had a loop on it. It is the memory of these little things that trigger the rest of the memories. I chose to rub a type of oil from the shelf that was labeled "Rosemary Massage Oil." Today, I grow rosemary in my garden. I love the smell.

To start with, I decided to use some of my erotic massage pressure points and to see how they affect her. And then, add some smacks from the riding crop on those same points. They were acupressure "stings" if you will. The tactile feel of her oiled skin was all I could take. I knew I would have to use my elbows for massage in places, but I would be quick to get back to my hands.

Basic Thai massage, hands, elbows, and then light smacks on the soles of her feet with the crop. I was getting stiff now. I did have on the leather pants, no shirt, and I was barefoot.

I tapped the crop on her shoulder blades and slowly ran it slowly down her back through her butt crack down the inside of her left leg to her foot and smacked it harder. It is all about anticipation. Then I would massage her foot. Repeating the same for the other leg. The same steps, back and forth, yet harder with the crop. While the crop did not leave bruises it did leave smallish red welts that I rubbed with the oil. These spots were acupressure points I knew well.

Finally, I grabbed both of her feet, one in each hand. My thumbs found the acupressure spots just behind the ball of her big toes while reaching around to front of her feet pushing with my index fingers between the big toe and the next toe and rubbing about a half inch up. Points I had learned in Thailand. She began to squirm. Oh, was I pleased! It had an erotic effect on her. Because both hands were occupied and I could not do anything with the crop, I just pushed harder on these spots on her feet. I knew she had a mini quake because her thighs quivered.

I was thinking that was easy. Then it came to me: she had to be punished for letting herself quake without permission. I picked up the crop and told her twenty smacks for not warning me of the impending quake. She shivered. I was really getting into this and discovered that the high I was feeling was as strong as being the bottom.

I started with the butt, two hard ones on each cheek. Then I spread her legs as far apart as I could and gave each inner thigh smart smacks. I noticed her breathing quickened.

She said, "Amyl Nitrate." I found some on the shelf and I broke one and held it under her nose while she took deep breaths. I smelled some of the residual, but I wanted to be clear headed.

Then I started with the soles of her feet again. I was really getting into using the crop. I lost count and just proceeded.

I reached down and rubbed the lips of her vagina with my hand forcing my thumb across her labia and into her wet vagina pushing down on what I now know to be the "G" spot while the tips of my fingers lightly flicked and played with her clit. With my left hand I started smacking her butt with vigor. Gad, this was more than heady, I was not wanting this to end. I knew I needed to do more.

I unhooked her and moved her to the bed, head down, butt high, knees on the edge of the bed. I stepped between her legs. I put on a condom and proceeded to screw her in the ass. She came at once. Then, sad to say, so did I, but I hid it from her because I was not done. I rolled her over on her back, but she knew.

More oil all over the front, massaging every nook and cranny, Because of the rosemary, she smelled like a Christmas tree. Squeezing and pinching her breasts, always working from the bottom of each breast. Then I got some of the wrist restraints and restrained her arms, put a wedge like pillow under her butt and spread her legs. Got another Amyl Nitrate and broke it under her nose and she took deep breaths.