Valley of Surrender Series - Vol.1

by Trent Evans

  He’d at least had the courtesy not to keep the expensive ones, but she had a feeling her underwear bill was quite a bit higher than most.

  “Turn around and present.”

  Facing him so quickly her head spun for a moment, she returned to her familiar position.

  “Shoulders straight. Arms back. Tits out.” He slapped her thigh. “More. This is called present for a reason, my girl. Present what’s mine.”

  Spreading her arms, she looked down at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. It wasn’t expected at that point — and it wouldn’t matter, considering she knew what it was he was gazing at.

  His fingers combed through the thick delta of dark hair covering her mons, a tug at a curl here and there making her grunt.

  “Might be time to trim this a little.”

  She nodded, blushing anew. “Yes, sir.”

  Though she kept her pubic hair quite neat, it was often not enough for her exacting military man husband. They both reveled in keeping her on a very tight leash — in all things.

  His fingers splayed her labia, the air cool on her exposed sex. “Legs apart. Wider. Wider, girl.”

  He drew a deep breath, sampling her scent, her face flushing hot once more as he growled his approval. “This cunt’s been missing this too. Have you been dripping, thinking about it?”

  There was no way she was letting him know exactly how much she’d missed it, how badly she’d ached for his touch, for his strictness.

  “Yes, sir. I’ve… thought about it. All the time, lately.”

  “Me too.”

  He slicked back the hood of her clit, just touching the tip, her breath catching in her throat. She’d been forbidden from masturbating for the past two weeks, her first clue that the old Troy might be stirring in his lair, and as a result, she’d been aroused almost continuously. Her clit seemed to stand up at the mere scent of his cologne at that point.

  “Ah, ahhh!” His finger circled her clit, her hips leaning against his touch of their own volition. He expected stoicism while he touched her, inspected her, but she wasn’t sure she had the willpower to obey. She was much too starved of his touch — and his discipline.

  Spreading her open again, he leaned close, breathing in once more. “Fuck, I love this cunt. It’s so wet, so needy. What do you think it needs, girl?”

  “You, sir.”

  “That’s right. It needs me, the man who owns it, the man who gives it pleasure.” His voice grew rougher. “And pain.”

  Thick fingers glided within her, deep, deeper, making her rise up on her toes, the stretching sudden, but not unwelcome.

  No, not unwelcome in the least.

  “That’s a girl, oh yes, you needed this so badly, didn’t you? This wet cunt, dripping for your sir.” He pressed a kiss to her mound, her breath already beginning to come in pants. “Well, he’s here now.”

  Oh… my God.

  Thrusting briskly, the sounds of her wet pussy around his fingers adding a particularly mortifying note to her surrender, he reached around and smacked her bottom. “Eyes on me.”

  She obeyed, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. It was easier to hide, to be the passive, submissive vessel for his lusts. To look upon him felt too much like a provocation for him to go still further.

  But the worst part was that he might see the naked lust, the animal need in her own eyes.

  He patted her mons gently. “Time to get you sorted out then, bad girl. A hot, aching bottom, and a well-fucked cunt should take care of the problem, I think. Over my knees.”

  She practically fell over him as she rushed to take the familiar, but mortifying, position. His thighs were like tree trunks against her belly, the thick muscle as hard and implacable as his will.

  He pushed her over further, until only her toes touched the floor, her palms flat against the carpet. “Legs open — more.” His hand cupped her pussy and she sighed. “Wider, Lacey. I want to look at your wetness while you’re punished.”

  She bit down her whimper, but complied, showing him everything, her legs trembling with tension.

  “Good girl.”

  Relief — and an embarrassing amount of pride — flooded through her at the words. They aroused her and strengthened her all at once. That she knew he was pleased with her, regardless of the fact he was about to mete out a hard spanking, made it easier to contend with what was to come, his approval boosting her determination to behave, to obey, to be his good girl.

  Even if it hurt.

  Or because it hurt.

  His palm crashed against her left buttock, and she froze in shock. He was never one for preliminaries, believing when it was time for punishment, then a punishment it would be. Yes, he enjoyed playing with her before, during, and after, but that was as much for his benefit as hers.

  It was his rightful enjoyment of the plaything that was his loving wife.

  She’d never have it any other way.

  Biting off a short cry as he spanked her right cheek, she tried to remain motionless, knowing he was just getting started.

  “That’s right,” he growled. “Very still. Take your spanking obediently — and quietly.”

  Then he began in earnest, taking up a firm, unhurried rhythm, his hard, callused palm stoking a fire in her ass, the temperature spiraling higher by the second. He alternated between cheeks, sometimes smacking high, other times hitting low, spacing out the blows to ensure the pain sunk deep. She knew he’d be watching her for any disobedience, any sign of trying to avoid her punishment.

  But she was made of stronger stuff than that. No matter how badly her ass already burned — and it flamed hot indeed — she would show him. She would submit to him in all ways, in all things.

  Taking up even harder blows, he concentrated several smacks upon the same spot, and with these, her will began to break, her high-pitched cries growing in volume with each heavy impact of palm on bottom.

  He didn’t allow that to deter him though; he never did.

  Rather, he intensified the punishment, until they became a storm of spanks painting her entire ass. Finally, she lay panting over his thighs, mortified — and incredulous still — that no matter how badly the discipline hurt, once again, her body had reacted.

  Though her legs churned slowly as she tried to process the pain, the motion only emphasized how hot and slippery she was between the lips of her pussy. A bead of her warm liquid was already meandering down the vulnerable flesh of her inner thigh. She hoped he wouldn’t see it.

  His fingertip scooped up the shaming evidence, and he leaned over to hold the glistening finger before her. His voice danced with playful mirth. “Bad girl. I must not be punishing you hard enough.”

  “No!”

  “Quiet now,” he murmured, palming the seething heat of her bottom. “I was thinking of going a little easy on you, but considering how wet your cunt is already, I think I’m safe to continue as planned. Any objections?”

  She knew what the question was — a subtle escape hatch, a last chance to affect events.

  It was something she’d never once done.

  “No, sir. No… objections.”

  “Good.” The cold, smooth wood pressed to her bottom, and she couldn’t help but jerk, her buttocks balling into hard muscle. The paddle hurt so badly!

  It was far from her first time, of course, but aside from the cane, it was the most fearsome implement he wielded.

  And like the cane, no matter how many times she’d felt its cruel caress, she’d never get used to it.

  “Ten should do, I think.” He clutched her around the waist, pulling her closer, the firm — and strangely comforting — bulge of his erection jutting against her hip. “Be still, my girl. You know what I expect.”

  “Yes, sir,” she warbled, her voice little more than a whisper.

  The wood slapped against the very center of her cheeks, and she drew in a harsh breath, the burn sinking deep into already inflamed flesh.

  “Oh God! I don’t know if… I c
an do this!”

  He tapped the paddle lower down. “Shall I stop then?”

  For a second, she thought about it, but dismissed the notion. She’d been through far worse. It was merely her fear at confronting the reality of what she’d been dreaming about for months.

  Her husband finally taking her firmly in hand again.

  “No, sir.” She leaned further forward as much as his strong grip allowed, hollowing her back and widening her thighs just enough. “I can do it.”

  “You’re a good girl,” he said, the smile plain in his voice.

  Before she had a chance to bask in those lovely words, the paddle impacted again across the lower curve of her ass, the humiliating jiggle of her cheeks almost as bad as the hot burst of pain across her flesh.

  The third blow landed still lower across the boundary between thigh and bottom, and she screeched at it.

  “Easy, now,” he rumbled, the grip of his hand slipping down to wrap about her upper hip, pinning her in place.

  Several hard strokes of the merciless paddle followed, all across the lower half of her buttocks, leaving them a quivering mass of flames. Finally, the dam broke, the tears streaming down her cheeks, wetting the floor between her palms, her fingernails digging into the carpet.

  Finishing up with a final flurry of loud, agonizing smacks all over her tormented bottom, the wood finally settled, stroking the crown of her ass in slow circles, soothing and menacing all at once.

  His big palm caressed her lower back. “Breathe. That’s my girl.”

  She closed her eyes, inhaling through her nose, exhaling through her mouth, over and over, her strict husband cooing to her as he stroked her skin. Concentrating on her breathing always helped with the pain — and it distracted her from the strength of her arousal too.

  “You did so well. I’m very proud of you, girl.” He pressed the softest of kisses to the upper curve of each of her buttocks, his stubble tickling her welted skin. His hand eased between her cheeks, the pad of his thumb gently touching her anus as his fingers played with labia sticky with her hot arousal. “Mmmm, I see some things haven’t changed. My horny little Lacey.”

  “Please… sir.”

  “Please what, my girl?” He pulled her up, forcing her to her feet to stand before him again, her knees trembling against his spread thighs.

  She couldn’t help but look at the large bulge of his genitals, her mouth beginning to water. He’d taken to making her service him with her mouth quite often during her pregnancy, and it made her face flame to think of how she’d come to crave taking his penis between her lips, looking up at him as he pushed for the depths of her throat.

  Just because you love sucking his cock doesn’t make you a whore, Lacey. Not quite anyway.

  Though part of her might doubt it, might be horrified at the way she seemed to constantly think about sex when it came to her husband, she’d learned to ignore it. There was a freedom in her submission, a letting go of inhibitions, of fears, of doubts.

  All that was left was obedience, and lust — and obsession.

  With Troy, no matter what he made her do, she always dived in, no matter how much it might make her cheeks burn bright. In more ways than one.

  He seemed to take particular delight in pushing her boundaries — even when she found it embarrassing.

  Especially if she found it embarrassing.

  She could see him considering it, his eyes burning with desire. Then he met her gaze, dropping the paddle on the bed next to him. “On your knees.”

  Oh, yes.

  Dropping to the carpet, her bottom on her heels, she laid her palms on either of his corded thighs, reveling in the raw power she felt there.

  “Take my cock out, girl.”

  She practically attacked his zipper, the size of his erection making it difficult to draw it down for a moment. Then, slipping his boxers down just enough, his shaft sprung free, high and hard, the veins congested and throbbing, the purplish head broad and heavy, glistening stickiness already collecting at the tip.

  Dying to wrap her hand around it, to hear his soul-deep groan as she stroked it lovingly, she nonetheless waited, like a setter at its mark, listening for the command of its master to set upon its delicious prey.

  His hooded, dark eyes watched her for a moment, his lips tight, nostrils flaring. He loved to make her wait. She knew it was a quiet, subtle reinforcement of his command, of her submission to his will, her surrender to his every desire.

  “Do you want to suck it?”

  “Yes, sir.” Her cheeks flamed, but she didn’t look away from his intent gaze. There was no point in lying. They both knew the truth.

  “Should I make you swallow every drop, or maybe I’ll come all over those soft lips of yours? I like how you blush as you lick it off.”

  Looking upon her for long moments, the tension was almost unbearable.

  But he surprised her, taking her hands and drawing her up. He clasped those hands in his, his thumbs stroking her delicate fingers. “Take off your top, greedy girl.” He let her go.

  Confused at his intent, she stripped off the tank, folding it neatly, trying to ignore the soft sway of her breasts as she did it. They were already beginning to feel tight.

  She’d need to pump again soon.

  “Get those fingers laced behind your neck,” he barked. “Present properly.”

  Almost yelping at the harsh note of his voice, she was instantly in the prescribed position, blushing anew at the way the pose displayed her breasts.

  You’re showing off a helluva lot more than your tits.

  He touched the achingly sensitive nipples, his other hand languidly fisting the thick shaft of his cock as she stood before him in compliant silence.

  “You hurting yet? Been a while since you’ve done it, right?”

  “Yes, sir. A little tender.”

  “Oh, good,” he drawled, twirling his finger. “Turn around, dear. Show me that nicely spanked ass of yours.”

  Reluctantly, she obeyed, keeping her fingers laced at the back of her neck, knowing he’d expect her to remain in that position until told otherwise.

  His palm coursed over her martyred flesh, and she hissed as he tested the swelling of a couple of her welts, the pain there burning brighter.

  “Much better with a red, hurting bottom. Sweeter, more compliant after a punishment, aren’t you, dear?”

  She had no idea if she really was, but she sure wasn’t going to argue with him at that moment, lest he decide her lesson hadn’t been fully learned yet.

  “Y-yes, sir.”

  “We’ll need to keep you this way more often, I think.”

  Before she could reply though, his hands clasped her hips. “Get that cunt open.”

  Plunging a hand between her thighs, she splayed her soaked labia wide, biting her lip at the way her inner thighs were coated with her fluids.

  Drawing her down, his voice was a harsh growl. “Guide it inside, then sit down on my cock. I want every fucking inch inside that wet cunt of yours.”

  She reached back for his bobbing erection, Troy not doing anything to help her. This was part of her submission, the acknowledgment that he would use her body in any way he liked. Her job was but to obey, to do as she was told as quickly as possible.

  And just the thought made her pussy even wetter.

  Grasping the veined, hot shaft, she pushed the big head of his penis between her labia. Her long, trembling sigh the only sound in the room as she sank down fully upon him, her soft thighs pressed to the hard muscles of his legs, his wiry pubic hair grinding against her flesh.

  “Arms behind your back, holding your elbows. You break position and I’ll take a cane to this red ass of yours.”

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered, though there was no need to answer the rumble of his voice. Strict obedience was all he required.

  His hand clamped to her shoulder, squeezing it harshly as he held her hip with the other.

  “Do you want to come, girl?”


  Oh, God!

  The question never failed to make her blush, even now.

  “Yes, sir. I want to come… very badly.”

  “Do you think you deserve to come tonight?” He began to thrust ever so slowly, and she took the inside of her lip between her teeth, the tight fit of his big penis moving inside her feeling so good it threatened to drive her mad.

  “N-no, sir.” The plaintive sound of her voice only drove her embarrassment higher.

  “And why is that?”

  “Because… I’m being punished, sir.”

  It was something they played with more and more, denying her a climax anytime she found herself subject to his discipline. Where once she could reliably count on coming — more than once — whenever Troy got after her, things had… evolved.

  Another layer of control, it was an effective way of tightening his hold over her. Now, most of the time she’d ended her maintenance nights with her burning bottom pressed to her cool, bare heels, his heavy shaft plumbing the depths of her throat. Rather than a screaming orgasm, her appointments with pain often ended with a flood of sperm bursting upon her tongue — or sprayed across her face and breasts.

  Though he did sometimes take mercy on her after a punishment, it was never something she could be sure of, her only recourse being especially obedient, especially shameless as she swallowed his cock as he stood over her.

  “That’s right, you are being punished, aren’t you?” He slapped her hip. “Now, be a good girl and hold still while I fuck this cunt.”

  For the next ten minutes, the quiet room was filled with the slap of flesh on flesh, interspersed with her harsh panting, the wet sounds of her sex being plundered by her avaricious husband, and his growls for her to squeeze his cock tighter.

  Her breasts painfully bounced and wobbled as he fucked her — no doubt something he intended.

  “I’m close. Squeeze… more! Squeeze that cock.”

  She beared down upon it, whimpering at the way the hard head battered the entrance to her womb each time she was thrust back down upon his shaft.

  “There you go. Good girl!” He groaned, his grip upon her tightening, as he thrust into her brutally, shaking her body with each impact of her bottom against his hips. “I’m… going to… come!”