by Maren Smith
“I’ll be good, Sir,” I whimpered, longing to surrender to the desire I was feeling.
“I know you will. This is just a little training exercise.”
I felt him move away but in my position I couldn’t see where he was going. When he stepped back behind me I felt the touch of something cool on my bottom. What was that? It didn’t feel like the hairbrush he’d used on me the night before. It actually felt like…was that leather?
As soon as the question crossed my mind, I heard the wind whistle behind me, a second before I felt the implement strike my cool skin. In its wake was a sensation that was stingy, but not really painful. By stroke number two, I’d decided that I actually liked it.
“What is that?”
“I’m sorry?” Brandon asked, bringing the implement down harder.
I winced. That time it hurt, but I remembered what he wanted from me. “What is that, Sir?”
“It’s called a flogger.”
If he’d been facing me, he would have seen my mouth gape open. A what? I’d heard of a flogger, of course—even Vanilla girls like me knew about sex toys. But the idea that he was actually using it on me, that I found myself closer to climaxing with each quick, whippy slap was unbelievable. If only the fellas at the office could see me now, I thought, laughing at myself. No one would believe it. Hell, I still didn’t believe it, for that matter.
Though my lips could try all they wanted, my body couldn’t lie. He whipped me slowly, letting me fully appreciate each bite of the lash until I could no longer hold back my moans.
“Do you like how that feels? Does it make your pussy wet, baby?”
How was it possible that hearing the word “pussy” from his mouth made me feel like a limp noodle, as though I’d orgasmed from the intimacy in his voice? The man needed to be studied. So did I, for that matter. What kind of woman got so excited about being spanked? And why hadn’t I before? So many questions and I didn’t want to ask any of them; I only wanted to bask in this moment, in the feel of having his attention completely on me.
“Yes, Sir.”
“That’s my good girl. Do you think you could handle something a bit stronger?”
Without waiting for my answer, he walked in front of me and I saw he was carrying what looked to be coat hanger clips attached to a rubber cord. “Let me help you out of that shirt.” Once he pulled it up, he opened the clips and slid them toward my chest. I turned my body away with a whimper.
“Shh. It will feel good, I promise.”
Only his seductive murmur could have convinced me to straighten out, offering my breasts for whatever he had planned. The clamps came down on my aroused nipples and I couldn’t help crying out.
“They hurt,” I complained in a little-girl voice.
“Give it a little while and see what you think.”
“I don’t like them,” I complained, petulant.
“Oh, really?” he challenged. Before I knew what he was going to do, he stepped forward and slipped a finger into my pussy, making the juices that had collected during all our fun come spilling out. “I’d beg to differ,” he said as he showed me his finger slick with proof of my arousal. While I watched, he brought the finger to his lips and with a devilish look in his eye, he slid it into his mouth and sucked it clean; the desire I saw in his eyes made me tremble.
He gave the cord a gentle tug and pulled a moan from me. With that, he moved behind me and with a swish, the flogger was coming back toward my quivering cheeks. After a few strokes, we got into a rhythm of sorts. I pushed my bottom out toward him, welcoming the sensual bite of the whip, moving forward slightly with each stroke. I let myself savor each one before moving back into position.
Before too much longer the smack of the flogger was echoed by a cry from me. The stinging had spread throughout my ass, the ache somehow stirring my need for his touch. There was no doubt about it, I had a full-on lady wood. The flogging landed with another slap, pushing me forward and making my nipples strain against the clamps. I cried out loudly and the next thing I knew, Brandon had untied my wrists.
“I don’t want it to hurt. Not today.” His eyes twinkled mischievously.
“Very thoughtful of you, Sir,” I said, my tone saucy as I rubbed my wrists.
“Here, let me see,” he said, reaching a hand out. I obliged by thrusting my wrists at him, which he began to massage with firm, nimble fingers. “Are you okay?”
“More than okay,” I said, blushing.
“Let me see. Turn around.”
He twirled his finger in the air and I obeyed. When I felt his hands cup my tingling ass, one cheek in each hand, I almost swooned then and there. Lucky for me, my body was pressed against his solid frame so I would have only toppled into him. There were worse ways to fall.
“You have such a pretty pink butt,” he said admiringly.
“Oh, so that’s what you like about me?” I asked with a laugh. “My butt?”
“No, darlin’.” His voice was husky as he nuzzled my neck. “I like the whole package.”
I made a little snort of disbelief and found myself being turned around with his strong hands.
“Karen Donahue,” he said in a warning tone. “Don’t ever doubt what I tell you, am I understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“When I say I like everything, it means I like everything.” His eyes roved my body with an intensity that made me blush from the tips of my toes to my hairline. “Do I need to prove it to you?”
Thinking he meant a more serious spanking, I began to shake my head. Before I could process what was happening, he had laid me on the grass and was straddling me. “But what about the rules?”
“Fuck the rules,” he growled, so we did.
***
When I woke the next morning, the sun hadn’t quite come up yet. I rolled over and saw Brandon’s side of the bed empty. I smiled to myself and stretched my arms over my head. I winced a bit as my muscles protested—every single part of my body ached, though I couldn’t complain. It had been well worth it.
After he’d laid me on the grass, Brandon had taken his time working his way down my body. He’d teased and tasted everything—from my ear lobe down to the toes he’d suckled. “You do not have my permission to come, understand?”
My sex had clenched at the mere mention of an orgasm. “But—”
“Understand?”
I felt so flustered. I just wanted to enjoy the wonderful things he was doing to my body without having to think about anything else. “But Brandon, I don’t know if—”
He leaned down and bit my lip. “Sir.”
“I don’t know if I can, Sir,” I’d said, tossing my head saucily.
“You better make sure you can. Or else.” His throaty promise had made me shiver.
I’d tried to keep it in the front of my mind, really I had, but his mouth was too warm, his fingers too skilled. He’d wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to a sitting position, wedged firmly between his thighs. The minute he’d brushed his fingers over my naked thigh I had convulsed, throwing my head back and groaning.
“Tsk, tsk,” he’d tutted. “I thought you said you were going to be a good girl today, Karen.”
I’d looked up at him through lowered lashes, relieved to see that his eyes were laughing at me. It didn’t stop him from pulling me over his lap and grabbing the flogger he’d dropped. I tensed as I waited for the first stroke, but I needn’t have bothered. He was just as gentle as he’d been before, using each flick of his wrist to make my desire mount to new heights.
Just then, the door creaked open, jolting me out of my reverie. Brandon entered, smiling his warm, perfect smile at me. At me. I’d never felt so lucky to be with someone as I did with him. I’d always known I was smart, ambitious even, but Brandon was the only one who’d ever made me feel special.
“Morning.”
“Good morning.” I sat up straight, reaching for the cup of coffee he held out to me. I inhaled the delicious scents of chocolate and
cinnamon before taking a big, warm gulp and swallowing it down. “Thank you, Sir.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” he said with a wink that made my body flush with rekindled lust.
“May I ask what you have planned for today?”
“Sunday’s a day of rest,” he said with a grin. “And I figure your body could use a little break. Don’t pout,” he scolded, tilting my chin up. “You’ll enjoy yourself, I promise.”
Right after we ate breakfast, he led me down the hall, his hands covering my eyes. We were both giggling like children by the time he told me I could look, removing his hands with a flourish. I gasped at the sight of what had to be at least a hundred candles spread throughout his bathroom. There were tea lights, pillar candles and votives artfully arranged throughout the room.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathed, taking in the rosy glow the candles had given the otherwise dark bathroom. “When did you have time to do this?”
“Remember when I got up earlier, before breakfast?”
“Lying? You, Brandon? I expected better,” I said, tsking playfully at him.
“Hey, now,” he said, giving my bottom a firm swat. “I said I had to take care of something. Which was technically true.”
“Do you think you’re going to get away on a technicality?” I asked, tilting my chin up to look into his eyes. His only answer was to kiss me until I almost melted into a puddle on the floor.
“The water’s getting cold,” he murmured, which was the only encouragement I needed to shrug out of the over-sized t-shirt I’d borrowed from him; it was so big on me it went down to my knees.
“Mmm,” I sighed happily as the warm, sudsy water enveloped my body. A moment later Brandon had shed his clothes and was climbing in behind me. He wrapped his arms around me and I obliged by laying my head on his chest, his soft, curly hair tickling my cheek. This is a perfect moment, I thought, closing my eyes and inhaling deeply. How many of those did a person get in one lifetime?
“Happy?”
“So happy,” I agreed, laying my hand on top of his and squeezing it.
“I never knew women like you existed before.”
I sat up and turned to face him, smirking. Even though I knew he wouldn’t like it, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on, when you met me, you thought I was a brat!”
“In need of a spanking,” he agreed cheerfully. “I’ve met plenty of brats, Karen. I’ve met women who are strong-willed and women who are submissives. Rarely do the two go together. Until you.”
I slapped my hand on the water, causing it to spray upward at him. “How’s that for being a brat?” I giggled.
He grabbed the offending hand, holding it captive. “Not now, woman,” he growled. “Not when I’m trying to sweet-talk you.”
“What’s the occasion?”
Suddenly, his face went serious and I felt my mouth go dry, my heart pounding as he looked at me with those sexy bedroom eyes of his. “There’s going to be a Valentine’s dance at the high school where I teach on Wednesday. I was wondering if you’d like to go with me?”
“To a high school dance?”
“I know it’s not a glamorous way to spend Valentine’s Day, but I already signed up months ago and I doubt I’ll be able to get out of it. I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.” He scrutinized my face, and if I didn’t know better I’d say that was hesitation I saw in his eyes.
It couldn’t be, I thought, dismissing it instantly. This strong, sexy man didn’t have anything to feel uncertain about. “It’s not that. I’ve just never been to a high school dance before.”
“Really? Not even when you were in school?”
I looked at the bubbles that clung to the water, swiping at a pile of suds. “No one ever asked me.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and I almost wondered if I scared him off. Maybe he’d rethink some things now that he knew—could he see it now? That I was as Plain-Jane as anybody?
“Karen, look at me, please. I want to ask you something.”
I obliged, gasping aloud at the intensity in his eyes. Would it stay there forever, or would he tire of me? How did he make me feel so adored with one glance? “What is it?”
“Will you be my Valentine?” He asked it with such sincerity that I couldn’t doubt he meant it.
“Of course,” I agreed, wrapping my arms around his neck and letting his lips take all my doubts and insecurities away.
***
By the time we finally broke apart, the water was cold. Brandon helped me out of the bathtub before wrapping me in a plush towel. We walked into his bedroom hand in hand and my eyes were immediately drawn to the rose petals strewn across his cream comforter.
“Brandon!” I exclaimed, smiling in girlish delight at the rainbow of colors. There were red, pink, lavender and white petals and a prettily wrapped box in the center of it all.
“I don't know your favorite color,” he explained.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” I said, my voice awed.
“Are you happy?”
I turned my face to him and nodded.
“Then I had to.”
“You’re going to spoil me,” I warned.
“For a woman that probably makes more money in one day than some people do in a year, it seems to me you could do with some spoiling.”
“It depends on the day.”
Brandon smacked my bottom playfully, making me laugh. “Open it.”
I obediently sat on the edge of the bed, my bare leg brushing against silky soft petals. I reached for the box and shook it experimentally, grinning at him. I could feel his eyes on me the whole time as I untied the ribbon and pulled the lid off the box. When I saw the satin cream nightgown inside, I gasped. Seemed like I’d been doing that a lot lately since I started spending time with him. “It’s beautiful.” I leaned over to kiss him. “What’s the occasion?”
“I told you I’d make the dance up to you. I just didn’t say when.”
“But I’m looking forward to it!” I insisted.
“That’s just an added bonus.” He winked. “Now go ahead and try it on. I want you to model it for me.”
“Then we have to do this right,” I said, scooting off the bed. “I’ll be back in a minute.” I walked back to the bathroom and closed the door behind me.
As soon as I lifted it from the box, I saw it was even prettier than I’d thought when I first saw it. The sleeves were slashed with delicate pink ribbons that stood out beautifully against the cream. After I had it on I eyed myself critically in the mirror. My eyes were sparkling with inner fire and my cheeks were flushed with it. I leaned closer, studying my reflection. For some reason, I looked different tonight. What had happened to me? Had I actually become… pretty?
When I walked back into the bedroom Brandon whistled, his eyes glued to my body.
“Does it please you, Master?” I asked in my sweetest, most submissive voice.
He pulled me to him, crushing me against his body until I groaned. “See for yourself.”
I reached down and stroked his erection before palming his balls in my hand.
“You’re such a tease,” he chided. Taking me by the shoulders, he guided me to the bed and pushed me down gently. “Wait right here.”
“Now who’s the tease?” I called out. When Brandon came back he was carrying a little candle with him that he set down on the nightstand.
“What’s that for?”
“To double your pleasure, my dear.”
I looked at it dubiously and back at him again. “What—”
“You worry too much,” he scolded. “Have I ever disappointed you?”
“No, Sir. Never.” Yielding to him, I lay down on the bed, waiting for further instruction.
“Close your eyes,” he told me as he pulled my gown up just above my pulsing sex. With one last furtive look, I did as I was told, sliding my lids shut and surrendering myself to the darkness and surrendering myself to whatever he might have in store.
He began by kneading my thighs with his hand. Once he’d effectively made me into a pile of mush, he pulled the nightgown over my head.
“Don’t worry, I’ll give it back.” He turned me until I was lying on my side and began to massage my shoulders. I was putty in his hands; surely he knew that by now. Even if he did, he continued down my back, working the anxiety out of my muscles.
When I was completely relaxed, he moved me until I was lying on my back again. I was so drowsy from the bath and the massage, my entire body so relaxed that I started to fall asleep again. I was drifting off, lulled by the security his touch brought me when I felt it: a bead of fire was traveling across my skin.
With a gasp, I lurched upright and found myself immediately pulled into Brandon’s strong, protective arms. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
It was funny, I thought I was at first, but it had mainly just taken me by surprise. Now that I was calming down I realized that the sensation hadn’t been all that unpleasant. “No, Sir,” I replied, lying back down.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“I want you to have your way with me,” I said, grinning slyly.
“Such a naughty girl.” He clucked his tongue at me. “Close your eyes. Don’t think—just feel.” When the next drop landed on my belly and slid down, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, I let out a gasp, arching my back. “Do you like it?”
To my surprise, I realized that I did. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before and having my eyes closed made me hyper-aware of every sensation to my bared skin. By the time we were finished, the warmth of the wax seemed to have seeped into my blood, because I was positively on fire. Brandon took one look at me and I knew he could see it, too.
“I want you on top this time.” His voice was husky with need. “I want to watch you.”
***
That evening Brandon broke out another bottle of the wine that I loved so much and we sat in front of the fireplace as we sipped from our glasses. “Work tomorrow,” he said with a grimace.
“Don’t remind me,” I begged. “Let me pretend that we’ll go on like this forever.”
“I wish we could,” he said, and the significance in his voice was not lost on me. “Big day for you tomorrow, right?”