Aching to Submit (4 page)

“I fell asleep,” she mumbled between kisses as he set her back down on the floor. She unbuttoned his shirt, her hands finding his bare chest.

Michael reached to push the button on the remote and switched off the TV while she peeled his shirt from his body. Once that was out of the way, her hand slipped into his pants, gripping his cock. She stood back and looked at him with a determination he didn’t expect, didn’t know. She’d always been more shy in the bedroom, letting him take the lead, which he liked. This was different.

“Fuck me,” she said. “I need you to fuck me.”

He almost smiled, devouring her with his eyes, and this time, hauled her off her feet altogether to carry her up the stairs and into their bedroom. Once he had her on her back on their bed, he stripped off the rest of his clothes and settled himself between her legs, taking one lace-clad nipple into his mouth while he pressed his cock against her pussy.

“I want you,” he said, his voice hoarse.

In the next moment, he pushed her panties aside as she spread her legs wide. Looking down at her, he thrust into her hard, watching her face as he fucked her.

But she broke eye contact before it was over and even as he came, she turned her face, twisting away a little once he’d spent himself inside her.

* * *

“You didn’t come,” he said.

“You know it’s hard for me to orgasm,” she replied, her back to his front as he held her tight to him in the darkness of their bedroom.

“It didn’t used to be hard, Soph,” he kept on.

A single tear slid out of the corner of her eye. “Michael, just let it go.”

He exhaled and reached over her to turn on the light. She quickly wiped at her face, not wanting him to see any evidence of tears.

“We need to talk, Soph. We need to figure out how to fix this. I don’t know where your head is.” He ran a hand through his hair and looked away for a minute. Her eyes once again filled with tears.

“I’m sorry, Michael,” was all she could say.

He shifted his body so he looked directly into her eyes. “No. Don’t do that, don’t apologize. You don’t have to say you’re sorry. Just please, please talk to me. If it’s about the babies, honey, we haven’t even begun to think of options. We can go for more testing, get a second opinion. A third. There are so many alternatives. So many things we can try. Hell, we can adopt a baby. We can fill out the paperwork tomorrow, get things going.”

Sophie was shaking her head, tears streaming down her face now.

“What? What is it? Please, Christ! Just fucking tell me what the hell I have to do to get my wife back.”

She wiped her face and sat up, looking at him. He sat there, her beautiful husband. He was fit, muscular. She always had the feeling of being safe near him, protected in his arms. But his eyes, those blue, blue eyes, they were so sad now. They looked at her with a desperation she’d glimpsed now and again over the last months. She had never seen her husband cry. But how would he look at her if he ever found out how depraved she was?

A part of her screamed for her to trust him. To tell him everything. It swore he wouldn’t accuse her, shame her. But she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t strong enough.

“I’m tired, Michael. Give me time, I just need more time. It’s the move; everything is so different here and you’re gone so much.”

His expression changed, guilt twisting his mouth. But what did he have to feel guilty about?

She put her hand on his arm and slid a little closer, tucking herself into him. “I understand about work. I’m not blaming you. Just give me some time, okay? Let’s have a nice weekend. I love you, don’t ever doubt that. I love you, Michael, I always will. I just need time.”

Michael hugged her tighter to his body.

“I love you, baby. Whatever it is, I don’t care. We’ll figure it out, work through it. You know that, right?”

Oh God, tears again. She nodded, somehow able to form her mouth into a smile even as the crying began anew. He held her for a while, just rocking her, keeping her face buried in his chest, cradling the back of her head. She went limp in his arms and just let him take care of her. She trusted him completely, didn’t she? She could tell him anything. Just not this.

When Michael was out of town again the following week, Sophie returned to the club. She was only going to look, to watch; she just couldn’t keep away.

Comforting herself with this thought, she made her way up the stairs. John, the same bouncer at the door, acknowledged her with a smile and opened the door. She turned to him before going inside, finding him friendlier than the women in the lobby.

“Can you call Kyan? Tell him Sophie’s here?”

“I will,” he said. “You can wait in the lobby.”

She stepped inside and the door closed behind her. She found she was more excited tonight than frightened.

The office door opened and Kyan stepped through, a smile on his face. She exhaled immediately, meeting his smile with her own, not realizing she’d been holding her breath. When he reached her, he took her hands and kissed her cheek.

“I’m glad we didn’t scare you off,” he said. He looked her over from head to toe and she became very aware of the two women around her. “Why don’t we go to my office?”

“Yes, please,” she said, appreciating that he was so in tune to her feelings.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked.

She shook her head, but remembered well his instructions. “No, thank you,” she dropped her gaze, “Sir.”

He leaned on his desk and folded his arms across his chest, his expression one of curiosity. “What would you like to do then?” he asked.

She met his eyes again. “I’m not sure I’d like to…
do
… anything. No, I am sure I don’t want to do anything. But I’d like to watch again. Just in the main room if that’s allowed, Sir.”

His smile grew as if he were pleased and he nodded. “I think that would be all right for now. I’ll introduce you to a few of the other members; you can get to know them and they can get to know you. You should remove your coat though. It’s warm inside,” he said, uncrossing his arms and setting his hands along the edge of the desk.

She looked at him for a moment, her body ready, willing, wanting.

With great attention, she unbuttoned her coat and slipped it from her shoulders. He held out his hand and took it from her, setting it aside.

He waited, patient as ever.

She reached for the hem of her sweater, took a breath, glanced from him to the floor and back to him. She could do this, couldn’t she? She’d thought about it all day. She could do this.

But she soon dropped her hands. “I can’t. I can’t do it. I’m not ready yet to go in there… naked. I’m sorry.” And she was.

He studied her for a few moments before reaching out and putting his hands on her arms, rubbing reassuringly. “It’s all right. When you’re ready,” he said.

She exhaled and smiled. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Shall we go in?” he asked.

She nodded and took a deep breath to prepare herself. He opened a side door and gestured for her to go through it. She knew it led to the main playroom by the dark blue light and soft music that came from beyond and, picking up one leaden foot at a time, she crossed the threshold.

His hand was at her back guiding her through. The club was quieter tonight and they walked directly to where two couples stood. One of the men was dressed in a suit; the other wore just pants, a coating of sweat glistening on his chest and shoulders. The latter held a mean-looking black leather strap in his hand. One of the women knelt naked at her husband’s feet and the other remained bent over a bench, her hands and ankles bound to the legs. As they approached, the men turned in their direction.

“Gentlemen,” Kyan said. “This is Sophie. I hope you won’t mind if she’ll observe tonight. She’s new and curious.”

“Welcome, Sophie,” one of the men said. The other repeated the words.

“Thank you, um… Sir,” she said, glancing at Kyan, who nodded.

Sophie couldn’t help but look at the markings on the buttocks and thighs of the woman who was bent over the bench.

“Samantha thought she could take a strapping without sound,” the first man offered. She didn’t recall his name. “So far so good; she’d got a few strokes to go, though,” he said. “Don’t you, hon?”

“Yes, Sir.”

The other man smiled with one side of his mouth.

Then, while everyone watched, he raised his arm and brought the strap down hard on the waiting woman’s buttocks. The flesh quivered, its already reddened surface seeming to radiate heat. The woman didn’t make a sound louder than an exhale of breath, but Sophie saw a tear drop to the floor.

“Ten,” the woman counted.

Another strike. “Nine,” came her voice.

Another. And another. By the time they got to three, she was unable to stop her small squeals.

Kyan checked his watch. “Come,” he said, turning her.

Sophie heard the last three strokes of the strap delivered in quick succession.

Just then, a very pretty, petite blonde approached Kyan. She was wholly nude except for the collar at her neck that matched the irons on her wrists and ankles. Although Sophie blushed, she couldn’t help but look at her. She seemed to demand attention. She was slightly overweight, but walked with such confidence, it was as though she were unaware of her nudity altogether. Sophie felt rather than saw the shift in Kyan’s energy as the woman came closer, her heavy breasts bouncing as she walked fast.

“Master,” she said, offering him her hands.

Kyan took them and smiled, his eyes filled with a warmth that left Sophie feeling almost out of place with the couple—and they were obviously a couple.

Kyan kissed the backs and palms of both her hands and she slid easily to her knees at his side, as if she’d been there a hundred times, a thousand times.

“This is my Julia,” Kyan said, petting the woman’s hair as he introduced her to Sophie.

This might have been one of the strangest experiences Sophie had ever had.

“Julia, this is Sophie. She’s new here so I’m just showing her around. Are Martin and Cassandra ready?” he asked Julia.

“Yes, Sir,” she said.

“One of the members’ wives broke a very important club rule,” he said to Sophie. “Her husband has asked me to deal with her punishment as he’s not experienced enough with the cane. It will be a lesson for both of them. Would you like to witness her punishment or shall I leave you with Julia?” he asked.

She swallowed, her pussy already swollen, her clit throbbing at that one word again. “I’d like to watch,” she found herself saying.

He nodded. After talking with another man who took Julia with him, Kyan led her once again up the stairs to the private rooms. “We’ll need Martin’s permission for you to observe, but I don’t think it will be a problem,” he said.

“Do you… punish… women often?” she asked as they climbed the stairs.

“From time to time, but only if I’m requested to by their husbands or partners.”

“Is Julia your wife?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “My wife and my slave.”

Slave.

“She looked very happy,” Sophie said.

“I hope she is. I love her very much and want her happiness, as any loving husband would for his wife,” he said.

Something lurched in her belly and the arousal she’d been feeling was replaced by a cold, heavy weight. She paused on the stairs.

“Are you all right?” Kyan asked.

She could barely meet his eyes. “I don’t know. I just don’t feel well all of a sudden,” she said.

“Let’s find you a seat,” he said, taking her arm.

She looked at him. “No, it’s okay. I think I’ll just go. I forgot to eat dinner,” she said. That was true, she hadn’t eaten yet. She’d been too anxious about the night. “I’m probably just hungry.”

“I’ll get you something to eat. Come,” he said, but she stopped him.

“No, I’ll be fine. Besides, you’ll be late. I’ll just grab my coat out of your office,” she said.

“Shall I walk you out at least?”

“No. I’m sorry; I don’t want to be any trouble. You’ve done so much already.”

He nodded, his expression one of pure concern. “I’ll make sure they let you in,” he said, studying her. “Would you please call me later or e-mail me at least to let me know you’re all right?” he asked.

She nodded, his kindness only making her feel worse. “I will. Thank you,” she said, reaching out to take his hand and squeezing it. “You’ve been so kind and really, I don’t deserve it.” Her eyes reddened. Again.

He only watched her for a moment. “If you need anything at all, Sophie, anything…”

She nodded and quickly retraced her steps. In his office, she gathered her coat and left, choosing to walk home instead of taking the tram even though a heavy rain-soaked Amsterdam.

Over the next few days, Sophie tried to busy herself with the house, trying in some strange way to make up for her betrayal of Michael by her attendance at the club. She’d memorized Kyan’s mobile number and had started countless e-mails to him, but had sent none, not even one to tell him she’d made it home.

She’d lied to Michael that last night they’d made love. It wasn’t that she couldn’t orgasm easily; it was just she needed more now. Since the nights at the club, she’d masturbated countless times, imagining Rebecca as she was bent over the back of the chair, seeing the crop come down on her ass, clenching her own cheeks as she fantasized that it was she who was bent over the chair, Michael holding the crop while a stranger watched from beyond. She remembered the sound of Samantha’s gasp as her husband’s strap had struck her buttocks while witnesses watched, no one batting an eye, as if it were completely normal. She heard again the echo of that one tear as it dropped onto the floor.

A deep longing consumed her.

She checked her watch. It was a little after one in the afternoon. Michael would be home by six tonight. She went up to their shared office and sat down behind the desk, opening her laptop. She fished out Kyan’s business card from its hiding place, her heart racing at the thought of what she was about to do, even though she had to do it. This wasn’t something that was going to leave her alone.