Point of Submission (Point Series Book 1)

by Remy Rose

  He groans with pleasure, putting his hands in my hair and gripping tightly so that it pulls each time my head moves forward. It hurts a little, but pleasuring him with my mouth is so arousing, I’ll gladly deal with the discomfort.

  I’m wondering what to do with my hands. I want to grope his gorgeous, muscular ass, but I can’t just do that without being told. And since I’m not allowed to speak, I can’t ask.

  Carlo gives me the answer, like he’s reading my mind. “Stroke my balls, Cassandra. Lightly.”

  I obey. His fingers tighten their grip in my hair and pull my head in closer. I fight the choking sensation—his cock fills up my mouth completely, and I can’t quite take him all the way in. I am burning with the desire to have him inside me, really inside me, but I know that’s his decision.

  I pull back slightly to ease the ache in my jaw, closing my lips gently around the head as I lick its underside. Carlo is as rigid as stone, his muscular thighs tense and bulging as he braces himself. Giving a long, low groan, he puts his hands on each side of my face and takes a step back, breathing hard. His huge cock is straining toward me, and fuck, I want him so much. I silently beg him to lay me on the carpet, right now, yank down my panties, climb on top of me, and shove himself inside. I’m totally saturated, ready for him to take me.

  Carlo kicks off his jeans into a rumpled heap on the floor. I look up at him, waiting for him to tell me what to do next.

  Smiling down at me, he caresses my cheek. “You did very well, sweetheart.”

  “Thank you. What—what are we going to do now?” Shit. The words are out of my mouth seconds before I remember I’m not supposed to talk without his permission.

  He raises his eyebrows, his expression a blend of disapproval, surprise and amusement. “You spoke. Did you forget what I told you?”

  God. The way he’s looking at me. I don’t know if I’m more scared or turned on. I nod slowly.

  “I'm sure you understand that there will be a consequence for that.” His fingers trace my jawline as I fight against the urge to tremble. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You may answer me.”

  I clear my throat. “Yes,” I whisper.

  He sits down on the love seat. “Lie across my lap, Cassandra. I'm going to spank you.”

  chapter thirty-two ~ Carlo

  The talk, I’ve learned, is most of it. A woman in this vulnerable state, listening to me say what I’m going to do to her, becomes aroused to near frenzy. It makes me horny as fuck. I know, without even touching her, that Cassandra is dripping wet for me right now. I can tell by the widening of her sea-colored eyes, by the rise and fall of her chest and how she’s parting her lips, that what I’m doing to her is having the desired effect. She wants me, desperately, and I know how she wants me to take her: Rough. Hard. Fast. Tearing clothes off, deep, wild, open-mouthed kissing, bodies slick with sweat. Tenderness can come later, but right now, Cassandra wants to be fucked.

  I want to do this for her. And selfishly, of course, for me. It took major willpower to stop myself from coming in her mouth. Looking down at her, watching my shaft sliding in and out between the gentle pressure of her lips, feeling the wet warmth of her small mouth, knowing how eager she was to please me...Jesus, I pulled out just before the point of no return. I knew she’d perform well, but I’d underestimated how well. I probably should have waited a little later in the night before having her give me a blow job, but I wanted to feel her mouth on me so much that I’d risked it. And I have no doubt I’ll quickly regain my hard-on when it’s time.

  Everything’s going smoothly. I made sure the alarm clock was in a good spot, testing the video function earlier in the day and figuring out which areas of the room would provide optimal viewing. I moved the love seat so it was more in line with the camera since I want to utilize this as well as the bed.

  I actually planned to spank her later, on the bed while I stood beside it—order her to lie face down and maybe tie her to the bedposts. But her speaking without permission just now prompted the use of the love seat for her consequence. And I’m going to have the added pleasure of her lying across my lap.

  I’m just about to repeat my command when Cassandra slowly gets to her feet, her chest at my eye level as I sit in front of her. The creamy globes of her breasts peek over the cups of the black satin bra, and I take in that sexy shadow of cleavage, wanting to see the rosy skin around her nipples.

  “Before you get on my lap, I want you to take off your bra, and look at me while you do it.”

  Cassandra is breathing harder, a combination of desire and uneasiness at her impending consequence. I doubt she’s ever had an erotic spanking before, but she’s about to get one now. I feel my cock harden almost painfully, anticipating it.

  She slides her bra straps off her shoulders and fumbles with the clasp in the front. She’s being very good, keeping eye contact with me. I’m proud of her.

  The bra is off, and she lets it drop to the floor, now standing before me in only her black panties, her arms at her sides and shoulders squared. The only indication of her nerves is that her hands are curled into tight fists. I want to fasten my lips on each of her hard nipples, but this would be a reward for her, and I need to wait on that to see how she handles her spanking.

  Moving hesitantly, she climbs across my lap, positioning herself so her upper body is on the love seat propped up by her elbows and her lower half is partly on me. I spread my feet wider apart so she has more of a base to lay across and look down at the subtle arch of her bare back, the dip just before the rise of her firm, perfect ass. Fuck—I’m hard as a rock with her warm pussy pressing against my cock. She shifts on top of me, giving a barely audible sigh. I’ll allow that one small sound.

  I’ve got to take a minute to collect myself before I start. Spanking the others had been a turn-on, but given Cassandra's effect on me and how hard I am already...it’s going to take major, major effort not to just take her before I do all I have planned. I’m going to have to be very careful. Control. Always.

  “Cassandra, have you ever been spanked in this way before?”

  She answers in a small voice. “No.”

  “You're a little afraid, aren't you? It's all right if you admit it.”

  “Yes.”

  “I think that part of you wants me to do it. Do you think you might like it?”

  A brief silence, and then, a faltering whisper. “I—I don't know, Carlo.”

  “That's an honest answer, and I'm glad you feel you can be open with me.” I pause, drinking in the sight of her, craving to touch her, to please her. “Are you ready?”

  A deep inhale. “Yes.”

  “Good. Before I begin, I promise you that if you take this well, there will be a reward for you afterwards. I want you to stay completely still. And completely silent. You are not permitted to make any sound whatsoever, or there will be additional consequences. Do you understand?”

  Her voice is tremulous. “Yes, I understand.”

  I sweep her hair off her back and over her left shoulder and then slide down her panties, my fingers tantalizingly close to her pussy. I put a firm hand on the middle of her back, and she buries her face in the cushion of the love seat. Jesus, for some reason, this stirs up so much inside me—seeing how nervous she is, but being obedient despite that. I can’t wait to fuck her.

  But first things first.

  I tell her I’m going to start, and I feel her tense up beneath my hand.

  The first slap against her ass is loud, but not hard enough to be painful. I’m proud of her for not startling...I expected some sort of little jump from her, but she stays perfectly still. I alternate striking the cheeks of her ass: right, left, right, left...each spank becoming a bit more forceful than before. I pause in between, sometimes for a few seconds, waiting to see if she twitches or flinches in anticipation of the slap, but she doesn’t. I give her a little break by gently stroking her ass before resuming the spanking.

  As her skin begins to get red, my b
reathing becomes ragged and rough with both the exertion and arousal. This is not about hurting women—it’s never been about that. It’s about submission—about having the woman completely under my control. And Cassandra is doing incredibly well. My gut instinct is that she’s turned on—I hope that’s the case. There’s an easy way to find out, and I can’t wait any longer to do it.

  I work my hand underneath her. I can feel the dampness and the heat before I even go inside. Steeling myself, I slide two fingers into her opening. Christ, she feels so tight. This is fucking excruciating, wanting my cock right here. Just as I expected, she’s soaking wet and slippery. She’s enjoying this as much as I am.

  I push my fingers a bit deeper inside her as my other hand comes down to spank her one final time. Still, she stays motionless. “Cassandra, you were amazing,” I praise her. “And now I'm going to give you your reward.”

  Her breathing’s coming in muffled gasps. I know she wants to moan, cry out, say something to release her pent-up sexual energy, but she’s doesn’t. She definitely deserves her reward, but within it, I’m going to give one final test—ordering her to continue to be completely silent and still, which is going to be very challenging for her. If all goes well, I’ll fuck her after—a reward for both of us.

  Reluctantly, I ease my fingers out of her and pull her panties over her pink bottom. I’ve got to bear my hard-on a little while longer. “Get up, Cassandra, and go lay on the bed. On your back.”

  She slowly brings herself to a standing position. Her face is flushed, and a few stray pieces of hair are clinging to her cheeks and mouth. She’s looking a little bewildered—won’t meet my gaze, and this rattles me a little. But I’ll see that she has a whole new focus in just a few minutes.

  Cassandra lays down on the bed, legs straight and close together and arms crossed over her breasts. I walk over to stand beside her. “Spread your legs for me,” I say quietly.

  She does, and closes her eyes. God, she’s beautiful.

  “No movement or sound, sweetheart.” I lean over and work one finger into the leg opening of her panties, grazing the soft, swollen folds of flesh. “I think you want to be fucked as much as I want to fuck you. But you deserve this first.”

  I climb onto the bed with her. She raises herself just off the mattress as I pull her panties down her legs. I glance up at her before I begin so I can see what she’s feeling. Her face is fierce with concentration, her eyes squeezed shut. And then, just before I look away, I see a single tear slide out from the corner of her eye.

  Jesus. My breath catches in my throat. What is this about? The one tear...it gets to me more than if she’d burst out crying, because that one tear means she was trying to hold it in. It’s most likely her intense desire overwhelming her, combined with what I asked of her—this is all so new to her. I don’t want to think it’s anything more than that.

  I want to make her feel amazing. My lips hover over her glistening pussy. I blow on it softly, tickling her with my breath, before lowering my mouth onto her. A light kiss first, then the tip of my tongue to lightly lick her slit. It’s an incredible rush to tease her like this—I know it’s taking all her willpower to obey my no-movement command. This will be a good test for her.

  I close my lips around her clit, holding this position, loving the feel of her in my mouth. It’s killing me not to fuck her, but I need a bit more compliance from her, and then it will be time.

  I resume my slow, delicate licking, and then I feel Cassandra push herself against me, arching her back as a moan escapes her.

  Another transgression. I sit back on the bed. She’s bunched the comforter into her hands and is looking at me anxiously.

  “I'm sorry, Carlo.” She’s trembling as she pulls herself to a sitting position. “I couldn't stand it anymore. It's just—it's so intense. I'm sorry.”

  Ahh, shit. I’m torn between needing to punish her again and wanting to just fuck her. If I let her get away with this, it means she isn’t completely under my control. And this is the goal. It is everything.

  The way she’s looking at me—flustered, pleading—it’s making me feel weak, and I can’t have that. I’ll give her a second, more intense consequence, and if she’s totally submissive, I will have succeeded.

  “Cassandra. You'll need another consequence before we continue.” My words are measured, even.

  She nods, wide-eyed.

  “This will be a bit more involved than before. I'm going to tie your hands behind you.”

  I get off the bed and go to the nightstand, pulling open the drawer and taking out a long silk scarf and a condom. Cassandra has her hands behind her back, crossed at the wrist, even before I asked. She’s looking at me imploringly. This is a good sign.

  I wrap the scarf around her wrists, pulling it snugly, and make a double knot. “Lay on the bed face down, but up on your knees. I want your ass in the air.”

  She quickly follows my instructions. I’m feeling confident about how this will go. I step out of my boxers, tear open the condom packet and roll it down my hard-on so I’ll be ready when the time is right.

  I keep talking to her as I go to my closet for what I’m going to use on her. “Do you remember the safe word?”

  “Yes,” she whispers. “Enough.”

  I stand over her with the short leather riding crop, dragging it lightly over her bare buttocks and watching her skin prickle with goosebumps. “Are you ready?”

  Another whisper. “Yes.”

  I have yet to use the crop full-strength, and I’ve never left—and will never leave—a mark. I gauge the woman's reaction in between each strike, wielding it with a little more power the next time if I think she’s receptive. The last woman I used this on had gotten pissed as fuck after the first sting. She'd grabbed the whip from me, flung it across the room, eyes blazing, then climbed on top of me and we fucked for the next hour and a half. Needless to say, I'd lost that contest, but the sex had been compensation.

  I don’t know how Cassandra will handle it, but from the way she quickly got into position, it’s obvious she’s trying hard.

  God, I want her to be able to do this.

  —control, and everything within my grasp—

  I’m standing at the edge of the bed behind her. “Close your eyes, Cassandra.” A pause for a few seconds to build a little anticipation, raise the crop above her and then bring it down swiftly across her ass.

  She doesn’t move. Very good, sweetheart. After a few more of these, I’ll dispense with the crop, enter her, finally, and take her several times through the night. Then over the next few days, even though it’s going to be harder than hell, I’ll end it, and move on. Like I always do.

  Like I always have to do.

  Again, the crop, making a soft whistle through the air as it strikes her. I take a second to look at the round shape of her gorgeous ass, the tiny tremors rippling through her skin with the effort of holding herself completely still like I asked. Jesus, I want to fuck her. But before that, I need to know what she’s feeling.

  I take a step to the left to check her face. Eyes still closed...and her cheek is streaked with tears. She’s crying. Without making a sound.

  My heart seizes. I want her under my control, just like the others. But unlike the others—what I was totally unprepared for—is this overwhelming urge to comfort her. To protect her. And more.

  She’s submitting to me, but this is about much more than just sex for her, as is evident by her tears.

  I didn’t count on her tears.

  And I didn’t count on feeling this way about her.

  Continue, I tell myself savagely. Continue, so that you know you can, and then let her go. You are in control.

  I raise the crop again.

  And then, the thought comes. She deserves so much more than this façade.

  Standing over her, my cock softening, I let the crop fall to the floor and say one word.

  “Enough.”

  chapter thirty-three ~ Cassandra


  Carlo. Please. Please.

  I don’t even know what I’m asking for, or why I’m begging, but driving away from his house, all I can do is silently say his name, plead, and try to stop crying.

  I’m struggling to untangle these twisted feelings inside me, but there’s so much. Shock, obviously—I didn’t know how the night would unfold, but it ended in a way I never, never would have expected. There is guilt at the thought of having disappointed him. I hadn't meant to cry, but I also hadn't been prepared for the thoughts and emotions that went along with what he did to me physically: the desperate want for him, the struggle to make sense of his obvious need to dominate me, the uneasiness and at times, fear, wondering what would come next, and the almost frantic need to please him, which was way more important than my own sexual satisfaction.

  I’ve never wanted anyone so much...I was burning for him, every atom of me on fire. When things got more intense, I started to feel like I’d fall apart—like the only thing that could keep me together was Carlo's strong arms around me. If I’d been allowed to speak, I would have asked him to please just hold me, just once, so I could feel the tenderness he keeps hidden but that I know is there. Maybe if he'd done that, I would have been better able to accept everything else and perform to his satisfaction—and I wouldn't be in this position now, driving home alone, unable to stop crying.

  There is also worry—about him, and if he’s okay. Worry about what he’s feeling right now, and what the future will hold for us. He had very quietly asked me to leave and then sat on the bed in silence, staring straight ahead while I gathered up my clothes and got dressed, my mind and body completely numb. I said his name once, but he hadn't looked at me—just kept staring down at his hands, his naked body looking like a beautiful sculpture in the low light of his bedroom. I wanted so much to go to him, put my arms around his neck and kiss his face, comfort him somehow, even in my state of stunned confusion.