Third Party Check

One of the best things about having filthy rich clients is that besides paying for my services, they tend to put a lot of money into staying fit and attractive. Every two months I was pleasantly reminded of this tidbit while watching Anita's supple body strain against whatever I'd chosen to hold her down. Or up, as the case may be. After a few early sessions with my beautiful Oregon widow I'd learned that she loves to be bound upright, then whipped until she collapsed. That was fine with me, of course. Bending over a bed for hours is hard on the back, and a professional dom has to take care of himself, you know.

I slapped the back of a strong thigh with the flat head of Anita's favorite tawse and smiled in appreciation as she groaned. "Twelve, sir," she told me. Time to switch toys. We were up to swat number 36; after each group of twelve I would change implements. While I browsed over the assortment of toys, Anita pulled at the chains locked around her ankles. Her knees dipped and rotated slightly as she struggled to adjust her thighs -- a lone vibrator hummed merrily inside her dripping pussy. Spread-eagled against the wall, she was having a difficult time keeping the device from falling out. If it dropped, however, it wouldn't go back in for another twenty or thirty strokes. I'm sure that learning to keep the vibrator in place has had other advantages in her sex life.

A flogger made from doubled-over loops of nylon rope caught my eye. I grabbed the braided handle and cracked it quickly across her glowing ass. Caught unaware, Anita almost lost the vibrator. "One, sir!" she nearly screamed. One other rule to which she paid particular attention was to keep count at all costs. Failure resulted in the vibrator being taken away and additional strokes, regardless of the original number I'd planned.

"Two, sir!" she cried, then counted the third and fourth. By the eighth swing of the flogger I felt myself grow hard; the looped cords were drawing angry red lines across her normally tan skin. Most people see the flogger and think it's just for show. Not true at all -- the nylon makes quite an impression on most people's backsides.

"Twelve, sir," Anita said, sounding slightly relieved. She pressed her midsection up to the wall and began grinding it slightly, thin fingers clenched around her chains. Good thing I'd replaced the batteries; I was beginning to think that toy would stay in place for the duration!

"Time for a change," I said, reaching into my toy bag.

"No, please sir!" she said, straining her neck to look at me. Hah, I thought silently. This dom is impervious to puppy-dog eyes.

"Please leave it in, sir! I can count faster, if you wish!"

I almost laughed at that; she thought I was going to remove the vibrator. Instead, I wrapped a long piece of dark green silk over her eyes. Anita seemed puzzled at first, probably thinking that the blindfold wasn't anything new. She was soon counting again, however, as I took to the tops of her thighs with a leather strap.

"Tell me what you did this morning before I got here," I said, whipping just below the curve of her hind end.

"I, um, I was suntanning, sir," said Anita. I allowed her to miss the count as I was more interested in hearing about her morning.

"Is that all?"

Anita swallowed. "No, sir."

"Well, what else did you do?" I gave the leather an extra-hard

swing for emphasis.

"I, uh, saw my next door neighbor watching, so I teased him a little," the woman admitted. Anita lived in an exceptionally expensive condominium; the other tenants tended to be reclusive but like most condos, the close proximity of the units provided many opportunities for show-offs and voyeurs.

"Who was it?"

"Thomas, from next door on the left, sir!" The "sir" came out a

bit high-pitched as the strap landed on the inside of her leg, just below on of her nether lips.

"What did you do to poor Thomas?"

Anita hesitated. "Twelve more," I told her.

"I pretended I didn't see him and I played with myself!" Anita

said in a quick rush of words. "I spread my legs and stroked the insides of my thighs, then I pinched my nipples until they were hard and then rubbed my clit while I played with one of my toys!"

I struck her twice more with the strap, almost as hard as I could. Anita gasped, a slight, "Oh!" noise, and her knees buckled. Amazingly enough, the vibrator stayed in place. I paused and the bound woman straightened again. Her wrists had turned bright red where the chains had held her up.

"Do you tease your neighbors often?" I asked, dropping the strap and perusing the collection of toys once again.

"Yes, sir," she said immediately.

"Who else do you like to tease?" I leaned over and ran the tip

of my tongue up the middle of her back. Anita shuddered and I smiled as the salty taste stung my taste buds. Her entire body was covered with a light sheen.

"I like to tease the couple who live directly across, sir."

"Both of them?"

"Yes, sir. Sometimes when the man is out I go out to the balcony

turn on the radio, then I strip for him."

I chose a light wooden paddle with holes drilled through, smacked it once against my hand. Anita jumped at the sound. "And you pretend you don't know he's there?"

"Yes, sir," she said. "But I know it turns him on; sometimes he grabs his wife and makes her have sex right then!"

"Lucky man," I said, and cracked the thin wood against the side of her butt. Anita shrieked and began counting.

"Nevermind that," I said, hitting her again. She moaned -- the paddle is a fairly light weapon compared to the others we'd been using. "Tell me what you do to the wife."

"Once I was stripping for her husband while he was on their balcony and I saw her watching us both from the window. Next time she was out there I opened the balcony door and walked out, then I turned one of my bigger vibrators." I interrupted her narrative with two quick swings of the paddle. Sweat was dripping down the crease of her back and I could almost feel the heat radiating from her ass.

"She could hear the vibrator and looked over, so I left the sliding glass door open and came back in here. I knelt on my bed with my butt toward her and fucked myself with the vibrator!" Her story ended with a loud cry and her knees gave out again as I rained five quick slaps to her bottom.

"The people across from you are Greg and Carla," I said.

Even with the obscuring blindfold I could tell Anita was

perplexed. "You know my neighbors, sir?" she asked.

"Not very well," I admitted, enjoying her confusion. On Anita's balcony, I heard a quiet giggle. Anita heard it too and tensed immediately.

"Sir, who's here?"

"That's twelve more for asking a question," I said as Anita's

neighbors stepped in off the balcony.

"But, sir--"

"And another twelve," I said, smiling broadly. "By the way, the other tenants of your complex are sick of you just teasing them. I think it'd be appropriate to let them mete out your extra punishment."

Anita's breath seemed to catch in her throat then. Tom, the tall, slightly greying man from next door, grinned and reached for a short whip. He flicked it once, then snapped it smartly against Anita's waiting ass. She yelped and tugged helplessly at the chains fastened to her wrists.

"Sir," Anita began.

"You forgot to count! Guess you lose your toy priveleges!"

"Sounds fair to me," said Greg, one half of the young couple from

across the yard. He leaned over, probing into the incredibly wet area between Anita's legs. After a bit more working than was actually necessary to find the vibrator, the toy was removed from Anita's body. She moaned with disappointment, trying vainly to lower her midsection onto Greg's retreating hand.

"I'd start counting if I were you," advised Tom. The whip began licking out again, dropping bright red kisses across Anita's trembling flesh. She began counting again immediately.

"So, you're here a lot?" Carla asked me, crossing one attractive leg over the other as she perched on the edge of the bed. Her checkbook appeared from her purse and she scrawled my name across the payee line.

"Once every two months," I said. "Anita's my only client in this state, so I don't spend much time here." Beside us Tom had finished his set with the whip. Greg took over immediately and Anita soon began panting as she counted.

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you," said Carla. "Perhaps Anita just needs a little extra discipline during those times that you're gone."

"I think that's a great idea." Carla passed me the check, my payment for allowing the neighbors in on the game.

"It looks like it's your turn," I mentioned. Carla nodded and smiled, picking up an exceptionally painful flail. It was made from thin leather laces, each with a small knot at the end to add some weight.

"Here we go," said Carla gaily, trailing one fingernail from Anita's shoulderblade and down to her hip. A series of tiny tremors shook the chained woman's body.

"One!" Carla cried out merrily, whipping the flail across Anita's back. My client screamed and repeated the number.

Carla laid into Anita's previously untouched back with zeal and I sat back with the two other men to watch. By the time the young woman was finished Anita's back was a hatchwork of angry stripes and she was hanging, exhausted, by her chains.

"Time for someone else to take over," Carla said, smiling happily at us. Glancing at her husband she added, "It looks like I have something else to take care of over here." The couple slipped back out onto the balcony while Tom and I released Anita's chains from the floor and ceiling. Laying the tortured woman across her bed, I decided that trips to Oregon were going to be more fun than ever.