Finding Submission (Service & Submission Book 1)

by Michaels, Megan

  Her voice sounded high to her and she spoke a little too fast. Hopefully, he didn’t pick up on it.

  “Avery.” He dragged out her name and she swore his voice went even deeper, the sound vibrating low in her belly. “Do you have something you need to tell me?”

  “N-no. Why would you say that? Everything’s fine.” She felt attitude rising in her voice, even though she knew she was lying to him.

  “Okay. I’ll see you when I get home at five-thirty.”

  “All right, Preston. Bye.”

  Avery ended the call and looked around the yard before getting ready to lie back down. She glanced at the building Preston had told her was locked and forbidden to her. She wondered what he could have in there. Tying her bathing suit top back on, she got up and walked down the deck steps, the warmth of the wood against the soles of her bare feet giving way to the coolness of the soft grass.

  As she made her way to the outbuilding, she carefully skirted the patches of clover on the lawn, knowing the tiny white flowers there attracted bees. Twisting the doorknob first to the left and then to the right, she confirmed that it was still locked. There were a couple windows on the building, so raised herself up onto her toes, trying to peek inside. The dark brown shades on the window that extended past the sills, prevented her from seeing much of anything inside. Watching where she was walking, she went around the building hoping for another door or an uncovered window. No such luck. She started running her fingers over the windows looking for a spare key or a rock that a key might be under, but she came up empty. She tried lifting the windows from the outside, but they were locked tight.

  What the hell does he have in there?

  It just didn’t make sense. He’d shown her his den where he kept all his important papers, so it wasn’t as if he completed distrusted her. What could be so important to hide behind a locked door and shaded windows? She looked for a key over the top of the door. Nothing. Knowing it was a long shot, she leaned her shoulder against the door, hoping to push it open. All she got for her efforts were slivers of wood on her skin which stuck to her suntan lotion. Picking them off, she looked through one of the windows again.

  Nothing.

  She walked back to the deck, frustrated. Well, she would have to just get tricky about it. She would watch for him walking outside to the buildings and follow him. She would figure out a way into that room one way or another.

  But right now she was going to work on her tan and then take a nap until it was close to the time for Preston to come home.

  * * *

  Preston hung up and sat back in his office chair, closing his eyes, knowing the job he had in front of him this evening.

  Of course, Avery had no way of knowing that he had seen her cut corners, watched her lift not one finger to move even a single piece of furniture — and he most definitely saw her lying on the deck in the sun, completely shirking her responsibilities. Then, when he called, she outright lied to him. Didn’t even hesitate.

  He leaned back in his chair, looking out the window. It was time for him to formulate his plan of action — and Miss Avery’s comeuppance.

  His cock was hard just thinking about that big beautiful ass of hers over his lap. The silky soft skin felt so smooth under his callused hands and watching the pink stain spread over those milky globes after each stroke of his hand reinforced his dominance. He loved the control and possessiveness of having a woman over his lap. A soft mewling woman who would submit to his discipline until he said it was over. He enjoyed watching the struggle and fight leave her body.

  All women started out the same. She would submit to the discipline with a bit of attitude. A tilt of the head, the chin raised and a glint of anger and defiance in the eyes. She would put herself over his lap, swearing she would take it as an adult woman. She wouldn’t let him know it hurt and would stoically tolerate the punishment; women always started out stoic and determined.

  Preston shifted in his chair allowing his cock room in his pants.

  Then she would start struggling, realizing that the pain was more than she had planned on. She would start wiggling her bottom, trying to avoid the hard slaps, but would begin to realize once again that she wasn’t going anywhere until he said she was moving.

  Then panic would set in — though not full blown panic, at least not at first. He would stop immediately if a woman was in true panic. The spanking would most likely not end, but they would stop and discuss quietly and calmly what she was feeling and why she was panicking.

  He would then reinforce her misbehavior, laying the guilt on until she agreed that she indeed deserved this spanking and she would once again willingly submit to his discipline. Usually during that phase of the spanking, as the pain deepened, her legs would shoot straight out reflexively and she would decide she had to escape, had to get up, had to make this end. She would try to push her way off his lap or make the dire mistake of slapping his leg, demanding to get up. That was never acceptable and those behaviors would bring it to the next level — which would only earn her additional punishment.

  But most women would start fighting, swearing, or hitting to make it end and it was at that point that she’d truly be taught who the dominant was, who was really in charge — and who was truly a naughty girl. The volley of spanks would be harder and faster than previously administered and would leave the miscreant involuntarily sobbing and bucking to avoid his hand — to no avail, of course.

  He needed to stop thinking like this. His cock ached within the constriction of his pants and he fought the urge to give it the release it was seeking.

  Yes, Miss Avery would be finding out tonight who the dominant was, and she would submit to his authority — and his hand. He knew he was in danger of falling for her, and yet he couldn’t even explain how it had come to that. The thought of hurting her, even if it was just her naughty backside, wasn’t something he looked forward to. But at the same time, as his body’s reaction was revealing, he was turned on at the thought of administering discipline to the irresponsible woman in his house. It was a total contradiction.

  He had to set that aside for now though, because it was time to establish order in that house. And he was just the man to do it.

  * * *

  Preston walked through the door, then froze, the sight before him stunning him into a momentary paralysis. Avery Rose was sleeping face down on his couch, her shoes still on. That was bad enough. Worse, there was an open bag of Doritos next to her that had fallen while she slept, orange chips strewn across the couch and floor. The TV was blaring with an episode of Weeds. When he went to shut it off, the main screen popped up and he saw that she had purchased three movies for immediate viewing, which means she used his credit card on the account without asking permission.

  There’s going to be one very sore bottom in this house tonight.

  He snatched the bag of Doritos from the carpet, the sound making Avery mumble in her sleep. She swiped a hand across her face, wiping the orange tinged spittle from the corner of her mouth. Her fingers were still orange from her little binge, as were the cushions of the couch.

  He wadded up the bag, walking to the kitchen to pitch it in the trash. He paused there a moment in that silent, still kitchen, taking a deep breath. Then he returned to the slumbering Avery. He stood over her for a minute, hands on his hips, staring at the beautiful, troublesome woman in front of him, trying to put a finger on what the attraction was, on why she already tugged at his heart strings.

  No time for that, Preston. You’ve got a job to do.

  And there was no time like the present. He raised his hand above his shoulder and it came down — hard — on Avery’s shorts covered right buttock, the swat sounding like a gunshot in the quiet room. Avery’s cry of pain was the next sound that filled the room. She flipped over onto her back with both hands on her bottom, sleep-fogged blue eyes staring at him from under furrowed eyebrows.

  “Ooooooh! Ow!” She bounced on her back a little, still holding her bottom in bot
h hands. “Wh-what was that for? Jesus, that really hurt!”

  “Good, it was meant to hurt. It was meant for the disobedient, irresponsible, lying little girl sleeping on my couch. It looks like I did it just hard enough to get your attention. At least you did that right.” Standing over her, he took a moment to steel himself for what he had to do, taking his suit jacket off as well as his tie, then rolling the sleeves of his white dress shirt up.

  Avery’s eyes filled with tears while she watching him. When the tears tumbled over her lashes onto her cheeks, her hand swiped at them.

  “I want you to get up. “ Preston waited until she dragged herself to a standing position. “I want you to go get the vacuum and clean up this mess, while I sit in this chair and calm down. Move.”

  Avery stared at him for only a moment before she quickly moved to the closet to get the vacuum. While vacuuming, she kept her head down, but he caught her furtive glances at him through the fringe of her hair, the quick looks from the corner of her eye. At least she looked concerned — which he hoped meant it had finally dawned on her what kind of trouble she was in here.

  Keeping her off balance at that point was a good thing.

  When she finished vacuuming, Preston got up, staying her with his hand while he inspected the area to be sure there were no crumbs and that the orange dust was gone from his couch.

  “Put the vacuum away then come back here and stand in front of me.” Preston returned to the chair he had placed in the middle of the room.

  After putting the vacuum away she returned to him reluctantly, shoulders drooping, eyes downcast.

  “What were your jobs for today, Miss Avery Rose?” Preston reached out and grabbed both of her hands in his, lightly stroking his thumb across the top of her hand.

  She stole a quick peek up at him, then dropped her gaze to the floor again. “Uhm, I was supposed to vacuum and dust the downstairs, then clean the bedroom upstairs.”

  “And…?”

  Preston raised an eyebrow at her. He knew she remembered; she was probably hoping he would forget and let it slide.

  “Uh — I was supposed to change the bed and dust.”

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She knew she was leaving instructions off. It was time to reinforce who was in charge here.

  “Avery. I’m not going to pull the answers out of you. You were told what you were supposed to do. Part of becoming a responsible adult, is admitting when you’re wrong and being forthright when asked questions. I’ll ask it again. What were you supposed to do in that room upstairs, and what were the rest of your chores for today?” He squeezed her hand harder and she winced, the message not lost on her apparently, as she quickly blurted her sins.

  “I was supposed to clean the room, dust, vacuum, change the linens, and move any furniture out of the room that wasn’t needed!” Her chin quivered slightly. “I was supposed to cook dinner, too.”

  He forced himself to stay stern, fighting the overpowering urge to hold her in his lap, the power of it something he’d never experienced before. “And did you do all of those chores?”

  “I did… a lot of them. I really did. Did you see the room upstairs? I even washed the windows — which you didn’t ask me to do.” Her eyes brightened and she smiled down at him, very proud of herself. “It looks really nice.”

  “No, I didn’t go upstairs. But I didn’t need to. You see, I have video cameras strategically placed throughout the house. So I was able to watch your escapades today from work.”

  Avery’s reaction was priceless. She stared and blinked, then stared some more. She opened her mouth to speak twice, then closed it each time, as if losing her nerve.

  Preston smirked. “Well, my dear, it seems like the cat has the mouse just where he wants her. Feeling cornered, little mouse?”

  He chuckled out loud and got up. Avery quickly backed up a step, putting space between them. He, of course, wasn’t going to allow anything of the kind, and stayed close to her, putting a hand possessively on her hip.

  “I think it’s time for the mouse to answer to the cat. I’d like you to take everything off from the waist down, please.”

  “No!”

  Her eyebrows furrowed, the blue eyes darkening.

  “No? I didn’t phrase it as a question. That was an order, Miss Avery. Clothes off. Now. You don’t want to test me on this. You openly defied me. And again, as a mature adult, it’s time to admit that you deserve the consequences you’ve chosen.” He dipped his chin as he looked at her, letting a gentle note of admonishment sneak into his voice. “You did choose to misbehave, right? “

  “Well… yes, I guess.”

  “You guess? I didn’t see an intruder. Was there an intruder here? Someone who forced you to ignore your chore list for the day? Someone who threatened you with bodily harm? Someone besides me, that is.” He let his lips curve into a knowing smile. He knew he had Avery Rose right where he wanted her.

  “No. No one forced me — and you know that if you were watching from those damn cameras.” Her voice incrementally rose with each word until she was almost shouting.

  Preston wove the fingers of his left hand into her auburn locks and tightened them into a fist, pulling her by the hair hard enough to make Avery hiss from between clenched teeth.

  “You’ll watch your tone when speaking to me, Avery Rose. You’ll speak to me with the respect I deserve and demand of you, is that clear?”

  “Wait a minute—“ She cried out as he yanked on her hair again.

  “Do you think you can keep your mouth shut, Miss Avery? Or do you need a harsher lesson on your bare bottom?”

  “N-no. I’ll be quiet. Nobody forced me. I didn’t do my chores and I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

  Her eyes were glassy with tears of regret. He was pretty sure they weren’t tears of remorse — yet. But they would be soon.

  “Good girl,” he crooned as he released her hair, petting the side of her face, pushing strands of hair off her cheek. “I’m sure you’re sorry now that you didn’t do your chores. But there are consequences for irresponsible behavior, some of which are long lasting. Yours, however, will be short but very painful.” He paused, letting his words sink in, not taking his eyes off of hers. “Now, I want you to take everything off from the waist down, then march that cute little butt of yours to the den. I want to find you sitting on the cold, hard wood of your waiting bench in the corner. And while you’re sitting on your bench, you’ll think about how you’ll do things differently tomorrow.”

  She didn’t move. She did, however, blush, her breathing rapid, the pulse in her neck visibly quickening.

  “Avery, sweetie.” He put his hand under her chin, gently raising her head to look into her eyes. “You really don’t want to push this, do you? Be a good girl and pull your pants and panties down so you can go sit on your bench in the den.”

  She drew a shaky breath, hooking her thumbs into her shorts and muttering something under her breath. Well, she may have thought it was under her breath, but Preston heard it loud and clear. He stopped her, deciding he would make her repeat it.

  “I’m sorry. What did you say? If you’re going to say something derogatory, say it loud enough to be heard — or keep it in your head. Repeat what you just said, please. Loudly. And look me in the eye as you say it.”

  Preston adjusted his stance, putting both hands on his hips, waiting.

  “Uhm, I said, ‘It’s not my waiting bench.’” She kept eye contact, but the subtle quiver of her lips betrayed her fear. “Then I said, ‘asshole.’”

  As soon as she said it, she dropped her gaze, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt.

  “Mmmmmm. Let’s make this clear for you. If I want to call it your bench, that’s my prerogative. It’s a bench that I purchased, and it’s in my house. I’ll call it and use it any way I deem necessary. And I deem it very necessary to use that bench only for you, my dear. So, if you’re going to be the only person sitting your bare, little
bottom on it, then it becomes, by virtue of use, your bench.” Preston put a finger under her chin, raising it. “Am I correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nuh-uh, that’s changing right now, too. ‘Yes, Sir’ is the response. Say it.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  A faint, pretty blush rose on her chest and neck.

  “And you won’t call me an asshole again. If you dare call me that again, you’ll be tasting soap with your dinner. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Very nice. Good girl. Now pull your pants and panties down. Then walk that little bottom down the hall and sit on your bench, waiting for me. Do not decide to disobey me.”

  Avery once again hooked her thumbs into her shorts, this time pushing them down and stepping out of them. Preston pointed at the floor when she hesitated at pulling her panties down. She quickly pulled them down and toed them to the side. When she turned to walk down the hall, Preston shot his hand out and swatted her bottom.

  Jumping and grabbing her bottom, she turned with a spark of fire in her eyes, but swallowed her retort.

  “Good girl. Hands off your bottom, no rubbing. Go sit on your bench. I’ll be in soon.”

  Preston felt his cock jump at sight of the rising hand print on her bottom. She had a plump, curvy bottom that begged to be spanked. He was almost giddy at the thought of paddling her tonight. But it wasn’t because he wanted to cause her pain – though that was part of it, if he were honest with himself – rather it was a concrete way of exerting his control and dominance over her. To establish the rules and to maintain order in his house — and their relationship. There was a sense of pride and possessiveness, a feeling that made him want to roar like a lion. This was his woman and he was going to discipline her as he saw fit — whenever and wherever he saw fit. The feeling of dominance flowing through him was heady and he felt almost drunk with the power of it.

  The trouble was, this wasn’t his woman… at least not yet.

  * * *

  Avery walked into the den and stared at the “waiting bench” in the corner. How did this become her bench? She learned to not argue about it anymore, but dammit, this would never be her bench! She looked over her shoulder to see if Preston was there and quickly rubbed her bottom. It was already sore and he’d only given her one swat.