Aching to Submit (12 page)

In that moment, something clicked. Something fell into place. He’d been worried, afraid ever since the start of this that he’d be hurting her. But looking down at her now, trapped between his body and the bookcase, her pupils dilated, her nipples hard against his chest, he understood what she needed from him and realized at the same time she may not know the full extent of it herself.

“I’ll get something to clean this up,” she said when he loosened his hold on her.

“Leave it for now,” he said, his tone changing a little. “Go up to the attic. Close the curtains, get undressed, and stand in the corner waiting for me.”

“Michael,” she said, her eyebrows raised. “I don’t really feel like it.”

Her challenge made every muscle in his body tense and Sophie sensed it. He knew it by the minuscule change in her expression.

“I didn’t ask you what you were in the mood for,” he said, his voice quiet, frighteningly so.

She took a moment to process, still staring up at him. “Are you going to spank me?” she asked, her voice soft. There was no longer a tone of defiance in her question.

“Yes.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Because I think you need me to, for one thing. Because you took off like you did and didn’t trust me enough to just come talk to me, for another.”

She digested that.

“You’re my wife, Sophie. And I think I’m beginning to understand what you want. We’re changing the way we do things around here, starting now.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice more tentative.

“I don’t think what you want is an erotic spanking now and again. I think you want more than that. Is that true, Sophie?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You want me to take the lead in a way I haven’t before and I understand that now. Do you think you deserve to be punished for running off like you did, for not trusting me enough, still, after what we’ve been doing, to come talk to me?”

She looked at him for a while, dropped her gaze to the floor before returning it to his to answer his question. “Yes.”

“Then you consent?” he asked.

She nodded a quick, nervous nod.

“Say it, Sophie.”

She licked her lips. “I consent to being punished.”

He nodded. “Good girl. Now go upstairs and get ready.”

She opened her mouth, but had no response. When after a moment she didn’t move, he gestured toward the stairs, dismissing her. She took one last look at him, obviously trying to gauge if he was serious, and went.

“Sophie,” he called out just when she reached the stairs.

She turned.

“Pick out your favorite belt on your way up,” he said.

Her face paled a little as she nodded and disappeared up the stairs.

Sophie’s clit was throbbing before she even reached their bedroom. Anticipation set her pussy on fire, but it was Michael’s tone that made her belly quiver. She walked into their shared closet and looked at the row of neatly hanging belts. If she looked at her shelves, they were a bit of a mess. Michael’s, on the other hand, were absolutely organized. Everything had its place and things were folded, put away, neat, completely the opposite of her. But he’d never criticized her sloppiness.

She ran her hand over the row of belts even though she already knew the one she’d choose. She knew it the moment he had told her to do it. It was an old belt, one he’d had for longer than they’d been married. A heavy Italian leather, well-worn and thick but malleable, soft enough to manage, strong enough to deliver the punishment she needed and expected. She took it from its place and doubled it over, her sex pure heat as her buttocks quivered in anticipation.

Once in the attic, she stripped off her clothes and folded them, setting them on top of one of the boxes. She laid the belt on the chair and chose a corner, touching her nose to it and clasping opposite elbows behind her back so her bottom would be displayed for him once he came up.

Michael’s dominant nature surprised her. No, that wasn’t it. He was dominant in every way, but the fact that he took on his new role with such zeal was what surprised her. There would be pain tonight; she wasn’t fool enough not to believe that. But she also believed there would be pleasure afterwards. Riding that fine line between the two opposites thrilled her, her submission itself almost better than the orgasm.

It was a good twenty minutes before she finally heard his step on the landing, and when she did her entire being shook with anticipation.

“Good choice,” he said, and she knew he must be looking at the belt.

She didn’t dare turn around until he called her to him after a few moments. He stood in front of the single chair that sat in the middle of the room on top of the rug. She made her way over to him.

He was shirtless and barefoot and she couldn’t help but look at the wide span of his shoulders, his powerful, muscular arms. “Bend over and put your hands on the seat of the chair,” he said. He wasn’t yet holding the belt.

She turned and did as he said, knowing to keep her legs wide as she supported her weight on her hands, looking straight down at the doubled-over belt. It wasn’t a moment before his fingers were massaging a cool cream over her anus.

“This plug is a little bigger than the last one,” he said, his voice coming out a little hoarse as his finger penetrated her tight ring. “I want it in your ass when I whip you.”

She made a sound, unable to manage words, taking in the not-unpleasant sensations.

“Good girl, that’s it,” he encouraged as he pulled his fingers out and began to insert the plug. With that she struggled a bit; he wasn’t kidding that it was bigger and thicker. Michael pressed it in and pulled it out, patient and slow, waiting for her to open and accept it. “You can take it, Soph, come on, open. Reach your hips back. That’s it. Push against it. Almost there.”

She made another sound as the thickest part penetrated and the plug was finally seated firmly inside her.

“You can straighten up,” Michael said. He went to wash his hands in the corner sink.

Sophie tightened her muscles around the plug, which was heavier than she’d anticipated. Michael returned with a pair of leather cuffs.

“Hold out your hands,” he said.

“You don’t have to bind…” she began.

“How many additional strokes do you think you deserve for speaking when you did not have permission to speak?”

She stared at him. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she said quickly. “I just…”

“Ten more, then. Another word and we’ll make it twenty on top of what you’re already going to get.”

She stared at him, her mouth open, but luckily too smart to keep talking.

“Hold your hands out,” he said.

She extended them to him and he bound them in front of her before sitting down on the chair. “Lay yourself across my lap,” he said.

Sophie took a step to his side and held on to his thigh as she leaned forward, then put her hands to the floor. Once she was situated, he trapped both her legs between his and pulled her tight to him. She then felt the weight of the belt as he laid it over her low back.

“I like you like this,” he said, his hand circling her buttocks, then pressing on the base of the plug before dipping down into her pussy. “You’re wet, Soph, even for your punishment you’re wet. But pain before pleasure and this is going to hurt. Are you ready?”

“I don’t know, Sir,” she said, her voice wavering.

He chuckled and slapped her ass once, then caressed softly before repeating the motion on the other cheek. The caress was just momentary and only heightened her anxiety as she knew the strike that followed would be sharp and quick.

“Ow,” she said, already squirming.

“Oh, honey,” he said and she could hear the smile in his voice, “this is nothing compared to what’s coming.”

He slapped harder and she struggled against each one, but with her hands bound as they were and her legs trapped between his, it was useless. When he picked up the belt, however, she shoved her full weight against him, trying to get free, panic overriding everything else.

Michael pulled her to him, holding her tight by her waist. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay, Soph. It’s me. You can take this; you’ll feel better for it.”

“Easy for you to say,” she cried.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked, surprising her.

She turned her head to meet his eyes. “No.”

Her eyes, which had been dry until then, suddenly filled with tears that overflowed onto the carpet beneath her. “I don’t want you to stop. I’m just scared. I think I made a mistake. I think I should have chosen a different belt,” she cried.

He laughed out loud, but it wasn’t cruel. In fact, as he did it, he hugged her to him, rubbing her back. “Baby,” he began, “you think I’d have let you get away with that?” he asked. He was massaging her low back.

That was the moment she understood that he wouldn’t have let her off the hook.

Goose bumps covered the flesh over her entire body as this realization settled upon her. She exhaled and closed her eyes, relishing the release, the knowledge that she was safe here in his arms and that she could lean on him, that he would carry her. That he
could
carry her.

“No, Sir,” she said. And as much as she knew how much this would hurt, she also knew in that moment that he would be there with her, he would not let her go even as he would be the one giving her the pain, the punishment.

Sophie exhaled.

“That’s it,” he said, holding her for a while as her body softened into his as if he knew what she was now, in this moment, understanding. “Good girl. Now breathe with the strokes, baby. I love you,” he said just as the first stroke of the belt hit her bottom.

* * *

Michael listened to her gasp when the first lash of the belt made contact with her buttocks.

The softness was gone, her torso bolting upright as she called out and began her struggle anew. But he held her tight to him and raised the belt, bringing it down again. The sound filled the attic, bounced off the walls, came in time with her gasps and filled his ears. Her buttocks quivered and tightened in anticipation and she wiggled her hips this way and that trying to avoid the blows. Trapped as he had her though, her wrists bound in front of her, her legs between his, he could manage her, hold onto her as long as he wanted to.

“Please, please, please,” she begged when he continued. He placed most of the strokes on her buttocks, but struck her upper thighs a few times as well. Each time he did, she’d wail against him. It would have been better to have her bent over the bed, he’d have better access to all of her, but she wasn’t ready to hold still yet—that would take some training. Holding her like this though, hugging her to him as he punished her, to feel her body against his, her warmth against his warmth, to give her some comfort as he simultaneously gave her pain, was what he wanted tonight and what they both needed as they began on this new road in their marriage.

She was weeping, her sobs loud as she tired and her struggles to get out of the way of the leather weakened.

“Shh,” he coaxed as he struck, “you’re doing well. We’re almost there, baby.”

Michael’s cock pressed against her soft belly. He wanted to keep going, but he also wanted to give her a break and a small reward for being so good, for trusting him.

“Just a few more like this and you’ll get a break, baby,” he said.

It was another dozen on her already reddened, trembling buttocks before he stopped. All the while, he watched the plump flesh bounce as it took its punishment.

“There,” he said, dropping the belt down and hoisting her up as he stood, holding her tight to him, her bound hands on his belly and his chest as she wept in his arms.

“Is it over?” she finally managed. “It hurts so much.”

Michael looked down at her and kissed her softly on her forehead. “Not over, but we’ll take a break,” he said, and, without giving her a moment to react, he lifted her arms up and hooked the cuffs over the pin he’d set in the beam overhead for just this. She wasn’t quite tall enough to stand flat so she ended up on the balls of her feet, but he’d support her weight in a few minutes. She’d only feel the discomfort when her whipping continued.

Sophie looked up at her hands as Michael moved the chair out of the way and knelt before her. Heat radiated from her bottom and she sucked in a breath when he gripped her ass and hoisted one of her legs over his shoulders, burying his face in her pussy, his mouth taking in her clit as his hand played with the plug in her ass.

She began to tremble almost instantly, making those noises he loved so much as he sucked her clit and tongued her pussy. She called out his name when she came, her pussy dripping over his mouth and his chin. He loved every moment of it, the feel of her burning ass in his palms, her convulsions as she climaxed, her begging him, pleading with him to stop, that it was too much sensation.

Michael released her and straightened to his full height. Although she was stretched longer, she still had to look up at him and when he brought his mouth to hers, she opened eagerly, hungrily sucking on his tongue, kissing his lips.

When he released her from the kiss, she hung almost limp. But when he retrieved the belt, she perked up again, her eyes wide.

“No more. Please, Sir. Please. I’m sorry,” she begged. “Please don’t start again.”

“I promised you ten more, Sophie.”

“I’ll take them tomorrow. I’ll take twenty tomorrow. Just please not now. No more now.”

He studied her for a few moments, struggling a little internally, so completely aroused by the power he had over her and yet his heart softening at her face, her sweet pleading eyes. He wrapped the belt around her waist and buckled it as far as he could, but it still hung low on her hips.

“Thank you, Sir,” she said, her relief physically apparent as her body relaxed. “Thank you.”

“You’re off the hook for those ten,” he said as he watched her face.

She leaned her head into his shoulder, resting it there for a moment, then bringing her mouth to his ear and kissing his earlobe before taking it between her teeth. “Fuck me,” she begged. “I want to feel you inside me.”