Aching to Submit (14 page)

Sophie set the clothes she wanted to bring on the bed as Michael packed their suitcase.

“You really think you’re going to need four sweaters for a three-day trip to the south of France where it will be warm?” he asked, holding them up, one eyebrow lifted.

“You’re right,” she said. She took one of the sweaters from his hand. “Three should do it.”

Michael rolled his eyes and shook his head, but carried on with the packing.

“I don’t have any summer dresses to take with me,” she complained.

“We’ll buy you some when we’re there. I’m running out of space here, Soph. Not sure six pair of shoes are coming with us.”

“Oh,” she said, putting the pair she was about to add to the six back in the closet. “Maybe you can take some of your things out,” she suggested politely.

He gave her a look, but she just shrugged her shoulders and went into the bathroom to retrieve her toiletries.

Michael had always been an indulgent husband, but after their conversation a few weeks ago, he was more so. He’d sent flowers twice a week every week and now he was taking her on a getaway weekend to a place she’d wanted to visit for as long as she could remember.

For her part, Sophie had made that appointment with the doctor and gone in for some tests. The news she’d had back was both comforting and frustrating. She was a normal, healthy young woman. No reason she shouldn’t conceive again or carry a baby full term.

After hearing that, Michael had had some tests done as well and the results were the same. There was nothing wrong there either.

They’d stopped talking about it after a few days and had agreed to just move forward and see what happened. It was the only thing they could do. Sophie wasn’t ready to adopt just yet and at twenty-four, she had some years ahead of her to try.

“We’d better get to bed,” Michael said, checking his watch after setting the heavy suitcase on the floor. “It’s past midnight and our flight’s at eight in the morning.”

“I’m too excited to sleep,” Sophie said. “You sure you packed everything I gave you?” she asked, eyeing the closed suitcase.

“Yes, and you’re not unpacking to double check,” he said, coming up behind her to hug her to him. “Now let’s get to bed. I don’t want to miss an opportunity to put a baby in your belly.”

She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him. “I’m exhausted from all the effort,” she teased.

* * *

They caught their flight as scheduled the following morning, checked into their bungalow at the seaside hotel, and were lying on the beach sipping drinks by lunchtime.

“God, this is amazing,” Sophie said. They had rented chairs at a private beach club and she lay in her bikini soaking up the sun. It was unseasonably warm and would remain so while they were here.

“I’m going in for a swim,” Michael said. “It’s too hot.”

“How can you say that,” she began, not even opening her eyes. “We live in Amsterdam. We see the sun like once a week. Twice if we’re lucky! Soak it up. Sweat a little.”

“You soak it up,” he said, leaning in to kiss her lips. “I’m going for a swim.”

“Suit yourself,” she said, but watched as he walked out into the water, his muscular body graceful as he dove in and resurfaced several feet away. He swam out to the boundary and she sat up to wave. He beckoned her in and although reluctant, she took her sunglasses off and swam out to him.

They spent the afternoon at the beach and watched the sun disappear into the horizon before returning to their bungalow.

“Let’s have dinner here,” Michael suggested. “I want to talk about something with you,” he said when they walked in. “Probably better done in private.”

“I’m intrigued,” Sophie said. “Mind if I have a shower first though?”

“No, go ahead. I’ll order something for us.”

“Perfect,” she said.

“What do you want?”

“Fish, like the one you had at lunch. With a lot of lemon. And a big salad. And a huge dessert. Something chocolaty.”

“You eat more than I do these days,” Michael teased.

“I’m happy. And a pig. Oink,” she teased, slipping out of her swimsuit. “I’m a happy pig.”

When he tried to grab her, she jumped just out of his reach and ran for the bathroom.

Once they were both showered and dressed, a knock on the door signaled their food had arrived. The waiter set up their meal on the small outdoor table in their own private garden. He opened the bottle of wine, poured, and once Michael looked everything over and gave the okay, left them alone.

They settled at the table and took up their glasses.

“Cheers,” Michael said, clinking his glass to hers.

“Cheers,” she said back, digging into her food. “What did you want to talk about?” she asked, taking a bite of her fish after drowning it in lemon. “Yum!”

She looked up to find him watching her. “Eat first.”

She shrugged her shoulders and devoured her plate when he’d just barely begun. Only after they were both done with dinner did he start.

“I want to get more involved at the club; there’s so much to learn and experience I don’t even know where to start. I want to learn how to use all the various implements, I want to see others play. There’s so much we don’t even know about. In addition, I want to spend whole weekends with you naked at my feet. The thought of what we could do, it drives me wild.”

She smiled a pleased smile. This was more than she hoped for, more than she could ever have asked for.

“There’s something I want to ask you.”

“What is it?” she asked; he seemed hesitant.

“When I said I want to get more involved at the club, well, would you consent to allowing Kyan to spank you in the main room?”

“Kyan?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

Michael nodded once. “I’d be there with you the entire time. I want to see how far he takes you, what he uses, how you react. And I want to watch your face. I want to watch others watch you. I’ve been thinking about it for a while and you can say no, Soph, I’d understand…”

“Yes,” she cut him off and blurted it out.

“Really?”

“Yes. I can’t tell you why just yet, but yes.”

Michael smiled and nodded. “While we’re here this weekend, would you agree to some rules?”

“Like what rules? What are you thinking?” she asked.

His grin grew wide and she could see from his eyes that he was aroused. “Like you’re naked from the minute you walk into the bungalow until we have to leave it?”

Sophie set her fork down and her grin matched his. She rose to her feet and in one motion, untied the halter dress she was wearing and let it slide to the floor.

“Naughty girl, no panties?”

“No, Sir,” she teased. “I am a very naughty girl. You should probably spank me.”

“And wise. Go inside and bring me the bag,” he said.
The bag
meant the one he’d packed with some of their newly acquired toys.

Sophie smiled as she went to retrieve the bag. Once back outside, she handed it over to him.

“Lie down on your back,” he said, opening the bag and retrieving a short black riding crop.

“That’s a new one,” she said and was treated with a quick flick of it across her hip. “Ouch!”

“Speak when spoken to,” he said, rubbing where he’d just struck with the ultra-soft furry side. “We’re playing now. We’ll consider this weekend training.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, lying down on her back on the soft grass.

“Spread your legs and hug your knees into your chest.”

Sophie glanced once at the crop, then at Michael, then again at the crop before slowly pulling her knees up. Her pussy throbbed in anticipation of what she knew he would next do.

“Keep hugging your knees,” he said. He brought the rectangular end of the crop and set it to rest against her sex. He rubbed there, his eyes on hers, that smile still playing on his lips. “What do you think?” He began slowly tapping the crop against her pussy. “About having your naughty little pussy whipped?” he asked. Just as he did, he flicked his wrist and snapped the crop down against her pussy.

Sophie gasped. It was a hot, quick pain that was gone in an instant, leaving only heat behind.

“You like it?” he asked, doing it again, then again.

“Mmm,” she moaned, hugging her knees, not sure at all. The pain was more of a quick sting, but the heat afterwards was amazing. “Yes.”

He struck hard against her buttock.

“Ow!”

“You don’t want to be on the beach with a striped bottom, do you?” he asked, this time raining quick strokes of the crop onto her right buttock in such quick succession, she could only gasp, holding on tightly to her legs.

He stopped. “Sophie?” he asked.

“Sir,” she said. “I forgot to say yes, Sir.”

“Yes, Sir, what?” he taunted.

“Yes, Sir, I like it. I like you spanking my pussy with the crop.”

“Naughty, naughty girl…” he trailed off, running the flexible, split leather end of the crop against her other buttock. “I should turn this cheek to the same color as the other, shouldn’t I, Sophie? Unfair to neglect it, I think, yes?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, her words a whisper as she squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation.

“We’ll deal with your bottom first. Then we’ll get back to your pussy.”

He rained blows down without counting, without ceremony, without anything at all and she knew he stopped only when the color matched that of her other buttock.

“Oh, God…” she said, catching her breath.

“Good girl,” he said. “Let’s go inside for the rest. Up on your hands and knees.”

She looked at him then understood, turning over onto all fours.

“Open your mouth,” he said.

She did.

Michael slid the crop between her teeth. “Carry that for me, will you?” he said and, with a quick slap on her ass, she was on her way.

Once inside, she sat on her heels holding the crop in her mouth and waited for further instruction.

“Good girl,” he said, taking the crop from her mouth. “Up on the bed, on your back. Open up wide and show me your pussy.”

She swallowed and crawled over, climbing onto the bed and positioning herself as he’d said. He dug through his bag and returned with the crop and a spreader bar.

“Someone’s been shopping,” she couldn’t help but say, giggling a little but closing her eyes when the crop fell on her ass again, twenty in quick succession to each cheek. “Ow. Ow. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. Sir.” She giggled.

Michael was smiling as well. “Open,” he said, gesturing with the crop. She did, rolling her eyes first. “That’s going to cost you,” he said, placing the crop back into her mouth. He then adjusted the bar and cuffed her ankles to it before pushing it up to her chest, her knees bent, legs spread wide. “Hold that for me.”

He slid the crop back out of her mouth and brought it back to her pussy, beginning immediately.

* * *

This felt different. Spanking her for fun, for pure erotic pleasure was different. He liked the feel of the crop in his hand and the smell of the leather was intoxicating when mixed with that of her arousal. The crop was stiff, but the end of it quite flexible with its four-inch split leather slapper. He brought it down on her pussy, then alternated on her buttocks and back to her pussy, which soon glistened with moisture. She was panting now, making small noises, closing her eyes. He had to push her legs back up when she relaxed them and held on to the bar at one point to deliver a quick round of ten final strokes to her already heated pussy before setting the crop down.

“How are you doing, Sophie?” he asked. “A little wet?” Two fingers slid easily inside her.

“Mmmm…” she moaned. “Yes, Sir.”

When he pinched her clit, she gasped.

“I’m going to help you to your feet; it will likely feel awkward but you’ll be able to balance. I want to use the crop on your asshole.”

Her eyes widened at that.

“Would you like that, Sophie? Your asshole wants some attention too, doesn’t it?” As he said it, he traced her juices up the cleft between her buttocks and settled over her anus. “You’re going to look amazing,” he said, “bent over and spread open for me.”

He helped her to her feet and turned her to face the bed.

“Down on your elbows,” he said. The bed was low to the floor so she had to bend deep while the spreader held her legs wide. “You look incredible. I might keep you like this for a while.”

She made a sound, bending even deeper, offering herself to him.

He stripped off his shirt and picked up the crop while she remained as she was, waiting for him, watching him from between her legs.

“Ready?” he asked. He placed a hand on her hip to steady her. He didn’t need to spread her buttocks apart; bent as she was, she was completely exposed to him.

“Ah,” she cried when he began, using the same short, quick strokes as he had on her pussy. She wiggled a little, but wasn’t really trying to avoid the strokes and he kept it up until the skin around her anus matched that of her buttocks.

“More?” he asked, dipping a finger into her pussy, lubricating the digits before running them up to her back hole and this time, circling there, penetrating the tight ring as she moaned. “More of the crop, Soph?” he asked, pressing one finger inside to the knuckle, pulling out slowly and repeating before he added a second. “Tell me, a little more with the crop before I fuck you?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Where? Tell me where you want me to crop you.”

“My ass, Sir. Please use the crop on my ass.”

“As you wish,” he said, withdrawing his fingers and beginning another round with the crop.

Sophie gasped with some of the strokes and moaned with others. He knew it would sting, but these weren’t punishing strokes and the sheen on her pussy told him just how much the sensation of the sting, the heat, and attention were turning her on.

“Michael. Sir…”

“Are you ready for me to fuck you?” he asked, dropping the crop to the floor and stripping off his pants. Taking a tube of lubricant, he greased her anus, pushing two fingers into it easily as he thrust his cock into her pussy. “You are so wet,” he said, gripping her hip with his free hand.