Aching to Submit (13 page)

Michael grinned and he caressed her face, making her look at him. “Dirty talk from my wife?” he teased. “My little Sophie?”

She nodded. “Fuck me, please,” she repeated, encouraged by his praise.

“With pleasure,” he said, his cock hard as the steel plug inside her. He moved to take position behind her and pushed his pants down and off, his cock bobbing free. With both hands he spread her cheeks apart, pressing once on the plug. Although he felt her flinch with the pain of her now sore bottom, he didn’t soften his hold. He dipped into her pussy slowly, the passage slick, dripping even as it opened to take his cock. She moaned with pleasure, trying to thrust her hips back, but he held her tight. Once he was fully seated, he held her to him by her hips, not moving, just relishing the scent of her, the heat and feel of her.

“Fuck me,” she begged, pressing her hips against him again.

The fingers of one hand reached for her clit and he rubbed as he held her to him, withdrawing his cock and thrusting in hard. She called out as her orgasm shook her, forcing her muscles to clamp down around his cock. He fucked harder after her first climax and drew two more orgasms from her, never releasing his punishing hold on her ultra-sensitized clit, supporting her weight as she hung by her arms, calling out his name over and over again until he finally stilled, pressed deep into her, trembling with his climax.

* * *

Michael couldn’t sleep. Instead, he watched Sophie who was lying on her side, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other just touching him. She always did that. Some part of her always touched him while she slept. He’d always loved that gesture, that little sign of trust, of wanting to be connected even in sleep.

She’d nearly fallen asleep as he’d bathed her. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally. He softly ran the back of his hand over her cheek, but when she made a small noise and turned to lie on her belly, he let her be. Curious, he pulled the covers down until her hips were bared. He looked at her, her small, naked body making the tiniest of movements as she breathed in and out. He looked at the bruises that were forming on her buttocks and swallowed. He touched one lightly and she clenched her buttocks even in sleep. He pulled his hand away.

It was almost one in the morning. He climbed out of the bed, pulled on a pair of jeans and t-shirt, went downstairs and out the door. He called Kyan on his way out.

It took him no time to get to the club and once he’d parked, he went up the stairs to the front door. John, the security guard who had been there that first day he had come to the club, was in his place at the door. Michael looked at him for a moment, then nodded his greeting. The guard nodded back and Michael went inside.

“I have an appointment with Kyan,” he said to the girl there. “Tell him Michael Perron is here.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, picking up her phone. It was just a moment before she hung up. “You can go in,” she said, gesturing to the door behind the desk.

“Thank you.”

“Michael,” Kyan said, standing when he walked in.

“Sorry to have called in the middle of the night,” Michael apologized.

“No problem, I’m here until the club closes. Have a seat,” Kyan said, obviously reading the worry in Michael’s face. “Would you like something to drink?”

Michael shook his head. “No, nothing, thanks.”

Kyan nodded and sat back down. “Has something happened?”

Michael suddenly had no idea where to begin. “I don’t know. No, nothing’s happened, it’s just, to be honest, I don’t understand this. I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”

“Go on.”

“When I first found out about this, I thought okay, I’d try it. My wife wants this so I’ll do it for her, try to give her what she needs. But what’s got me confused is how I’ve reacted.” He shook his head once, absorbed in his thoughts before facing Kyan again. “Kyan, I liked it. I
like
it. I like spanking her. I like seeing her stand with her nose in the corner. I like telling her what to do and her doing it. I used my belt on her tonight, it was to punish her. Christ, the sex afterwards was unbelievable. Then later, when she was sleeping, I pulled the covers off her and saw what I’d done. Saw the bruises that were forming on her ass. She begged me to stop, to not deliver the last ten I’d promised, even offering to take twenty tomorrow. I did stop, somehow. And I’m so glad I did after seeing the bruising. But in that moment, when I held the belt and she was bound and at my mercy, there was a moment I wasn’t sure I
could
stop.”

Kyan listened, nodding his head once. The room fell silent as he got up to pour two glasses of whiskey. He handed Michael one, who took it without a thought and brought it straight to his mouth. He drank down the contents while Kyan sipped.

“Have you two discussed a safeword?” Kyan asked.

Michael nodded. “Yes, we have one.”

“Does Sophie know she won’t be punished for using it?”

“Of course.”

“Did she use her safeword tonight?”

“No.”

“And when she asked you to have mercy and not to deliver the last strokes you’d promised, you did,” Kyan said.

Michael nodded.

“To set your mind at ease, I might not have,” Kyan said. “In fact, I can’t see myself not delivering what I’ve promised and Julia expects that from me. Remember, Michael, even if there is consent, it doesn’t mean the punishment doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t mean she won’t beg you to stop. Her pleading and your denial of her request may even be part of the draw for her. Perhaps I’m making an assumption though. Was there consent?”

Michael looked at him and rubbed his hand over his face. “Yes, of course. I told her I was going to punish her for running off like she had without talking to me. I asked her consent and she gave it. We had had a fight. Not to make this a long story, but we both want a family and Sophie hasn’t been able to get pregnant and keep a child to term. She’s got some guilt over this and… crap. Today was just too much for her. We had a fight, but at the end of it, I think I understood something. I got it. Or at least I thought I did.”

“Go on.”

“I think she needed me to punish her and she wouldn’t have been able to ask for it. Maybe she didn’t know how? I don’t know. I told her we were changing the way we were doing things. She’s young. She’s relied on my guidance since we’ve been together in every way. I think this is part of what she wants, but maybe doesn’t understand it herself? I don’t know.”

“Did you discuss these details with her?”

Michael shook his head.

“Did she understand she was being punished?”

“Yes, I told her clearly. And before I started with the belt, I asked her if she wanted to stop. If she wanted to use her safeword.”

“And what did she say?”

“No. That she was just scared she’d chosen the wrong belt.”

Kyan smiled.

“She was bruised,” Michael continued.

“And most likely you can expect more bruises. Some of us look on those with affection,” Kyan said, smiling while taking a sip of his whiskey. “Julia and I have been at this for a while. Our relationship roles are clearly defined and even so, we still rely on open communication, honesty, and mutual trust. She trusts that I know how far to take her and that should she use her safeword, everything stops without repercussions. I trust that should she need to, should I have misjudged or miscalculated and I’m truly hurting her in a way she doesn’t want to be hurt, that she’ll use her safeword. All of this is different for every person, every couple, and none of it is wrong as long as there is consent and it sounds like you asked more than once and that she did consent. She was frightened of the pain she’d feel, a natural reaction, but she didn’t want to stop.”

Michael listened, nodding.

“What I would suggest is that you talk to Sophie tomorrow, make sure she understands what you’re thinking, where you want to take your relationship. You love your wife, Michael. If she said she didn’t want to stop, trust that she told you the truth. Remember, she’s the one who sought this out. You’ll figure out the exact dynamics of your relationship with time and practice and a lot of talking.”

Michael exhaled and held out his glass for more of the whiskey when Kyan offered the bottle.

“Were you still angry when you punished her?” Kyan asked, not quite looking at him.

“No. I wasn’t angry, I just knew what I needed to do.”

“Good. Don’t ever do this angry.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“One area where you may need help, or that will take time to develop on your own if you don’t want help, is how and when to use what implements and with what force. You’re stronger than your wife and you’re bigger than she is. You wouldn’t strike her with, say, the same force you used to strike me.” Kyan smiled and touched the fading bruise on his jaw.

“I’m sorry for that,” Michael began, but Kyan held up his hand.

“Why don’t you and Sophie come to the club sometime soon? We can have a real session here, in the main room.”

“I don’t know if we’re ready for that.”

“I don’t know you’re ever ready for your first time. I think it would help, Michael.”

“Let me think about it. I’ll give you a call.”

“Sounds good. Anytime is fine, Michael.”

“Thanks, Kyan.”

By the time Sophie opened her eyes the next morning, she was very aware of the tight soreness of her bottom. She blinked several times, reaching to touch a spot as she turned to Michael’s side of the bed, only to find it empty.

She sat up, flinching, to find him sitting in the chair across the room, watching her.

“What are you doing?” she asked. She checked the clock; it was just a little after eight in the morning.

“I called into the office, told them I wasn’t coming in today,” he said.

“We get to spend the day together?” she asked, her face brightening.

But he looked worried, and entirely too serious.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Oh.”

“I went to the club. I wanted to talk to Kyan,” he said.

“Why?” she asked.

“You’re bruised, Sophie. I know you feel it.”

“I think I’d have to have buns of steel not to be, Michael. Anyway, it kind of goes with the territory, I think,” she said, raising her eyebrows and trying to smile. Was he having second thoughts after last night? Was it too much for him?

“Did I go too far last night? Did you understand what was going to happen, Soph?” he asked, his brow furrowed, worry and guilt in his eyes. “There’s a pretty thin line between what I did to you and abuse.”

“Abuse? Michael,” she leaned forward, ignoring the pain in her bottom. “I asked for this. I want this. This is in no way abuse, at least not in my mind. Is that what Kyan said?” She couldn’t believe that.

“No. He agrees with you that there was consent.”

“I guess I don’t understand then, Michael.” Was it the beginnings of anger that she felt? Disappointment? Which would be worse?

“When I said we were going to do things differently last night, I meant I was going to discipline you, use spanking to discipline you when need be.”

“Go on.” Now she was confused. She hadn’t yet processed their conversation from last night, but he had said he was going to change things or something to that extent.

“Last night when we were fighting, I had this idea—more of a feeling, really—that this was what you needed or wanted. Maybe you couldn’t express it. You needed me to be strong enough to do what I did. Was I wrong?”

“No. I don’t know. I feel good right now,” she said, looking away to think for a minute. “It’s over, you know. Our fight, I mean. It’s really resolved. Our roles as they are, you being the dominant partner, it’s natural you spanked and I got spanked. It hurt, but if you’d stopped, I think… no, I know, I would have been disappointed, frustrated. Angry with you. Does that make sense?”

“This is complicated,” he said.

“Doesn’t have to be.”

“No, you’re right. It doesn’t. We’ve got this D/s dynamic and part of the draw for me is disciplining for sure. But I also felt like I was giving you what you needed. Both times I’ve spanked you like this, I’ve also felt like I needed to do it for myself. But it’s also very erotic for me. The sex we’ve been having lately is phenomenal.”

“Okay, so we’re on the same page. Exactly. Same everything. We’re not going to figure this out overnight. I think it would be silly to think we would. I like what we’re doing and I understand that we’re going to learn as we go.” She reached her hand toward him. “Together.”

He smiled, his whole body relaxing a little. “We might make mistakes or decide something doesn’t work for one or both of us.”

“And I’ve got my safeword if I ever need it,” she added.

“Hopefully I know before it gets that far,” he said.

She smiled gently.

“I promise never to spank you for not ironing my shirts. Well, let me revise that. I might spank you if you do.”

“Are you making fun of my ability to iron, Michael?” she teased.

Michael climbed onto the bed. “I might be, Sophie.” He kissed her, pushing her with his body to lie on her back. “You do know I re-iron each one of them when you’re not looking, don’t you?”

His mouth covered hers, but she pushed him back.

“You do not!” she said, feigning anger.

“I do. You’re awful at it.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, one thing off my list, then. How about vacuuming? Want to take that over as well? Do I suck at vacuuming too?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck while he moved his weight on top of her. “Or cooking? Should I stop cooking?”

“Be careful, Sophie. I
will
take you over my knee if you stop cooking.”

“Really?” she asked, her tone flirtatious.

Michael growled in her ear, pushed her arms out to the sides and held her, looking down at her.

“I love you, baby.”

“Shut up and make love to me, Michael. Slow.”

Michael’s travel schedule didn’t slow down. In fact, over the next four weeks, he was gone from Monday through Friday and Sophie’s patience had worn out. That had been the day Michael had come home and surprised her with a trip to Nice.