Valley of Surrender Series - Vol.1

by Trent Evans

  “Who’s in charge of you, girl?”

  She glanced down at Von, slender eyebrows quirking. “In… charge?”

  “Who purchased you at auction.” Von’s voice held a note of warning. It seemed she’d transgressed in some way.

  “Oh… Mike, sir.” Her cheeks colored a light pink, her gaze facing forward.

  “I see, so he wouldn’t mind if we delay you for a few minutes? Customers all taken care of?”

  She turned her head to look back at Mike where he watched from the bar. He gave her a slow nod.

  “N-no, sir. It’s okay.”

  “Good,” Von’s finger tapped her thigh just above the edge of her stocking. “Go get us two coffees then, and get your cute little ass back here as fast as you can.”

  She paled at the cold tone in his voice, then was gone in a flash.

  “Travis was an asshole to keep a lid on his little fiancée the way he did.” Von said it with a chuckle. “Tricky sonofabitch.”

  In moments, Isabella had returned, setting the coffees down before them.

  “Can I get you anything—”

  “Turn around,” Von said, looking down at his cup, blowing on the hot liquid.

  “I— yes, sir.”

  Slowly, haltingly, she complied, her skirt-clad ass now front and center.

  “Bend over, girl. If you can touch those toes in those heels, then do it.”

  “Sir…”

  “If I have to call Mike over here, it’s not going to reflect well on the service of this establishment, is it?”

  Troy took a sip of the scalding liquid, barely suppressing his own smile.

  “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, it’s just…”

  Von’s big hand patted her hip. “Do as you’re told.”

  Folding herself over with a tiny whimper, her skirt rode up dramatically, and just as predicted, revealed what was hidden beneath.

  And not a scrap of underwear was to be seen.

  “I thought so. I could smell your pussy across the fucking room,” Von said, with mock disapproval to his tone.

  Troy was struck almost speechless at the sight presented to the two men. Between alabaster thighs, projecting boldly, was a swollen, and very naked, sex. The lips were reddened, and slightly puffy, suggesting…

  “Whose cock has been in this cunt, girl?” Von plucked at the swollen labia. “And recently too.”

  Sticky wetness glistened between the lips of her sex, her inner thighs slick with it too. It was clear not all of the juices were hers.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “Mike… sir.” Her voice was strained in her head down position.

  “Just now?”

  “A few minutes before the shift.”

  Von chuckled. “Jesus, he wasn’t kidding about taking full advantage.”

  The conversations at the surrounding tables had quieted, but not ceased, as if many of them were keeping lecherous tabs on what was happening at their table.

  His fingers hooking under the hem of her skirt, Von pulled it up, until the skirt bunched at the apex of her hips, fully revealing her round, bare buttocks. Von let out a low whistle.

  Unlike her thighs, they were anything but white.

  “Mike too?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Red and pink lines, some raised into weals, laced the entirety of her bottom, a few of the marks a deeper red-purple.

  Troy’s balls pulled up tight, his cock already leaking wetness into his boxers. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to be walking out of the place with a wet spot on the crotch of his jeans.

  Jesus, you need to get home. This shit is gonna kill you.

  The truth was, he needed to get his hands on his wife, to feel her yielding, loving form in his arms again.

  It was time for her next maintenance too.

  “Any particular reason for these, or were these… just because?” Von’s palm eased across one cheek, giving it a soft squeeze. Isabella hissed.

  “I get a — I am disciplined before I come to work.”

  “Every time?” Von didn’t even try to mask the pleasure in his tone.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I knew I liked Mike.” Von tilted his head a minute, staring at the woman’s presented genitals. “Spread your cheeks.”

  “W-what?”

  Von sighed. “I said, spread your cheeks.”

  She hesitated another moment, and Troy barely suppressed a barked order to do as she was told. She wasn’t his… but still he felt the need to compel her to obey. It simply felt… right.

  The fever, indeed.

  Trembling, slender fingers drew her buttocks apart, fully exposing her small, dusky hole.

  “Has he used this yet?” Von poked it with a long finger, and she jerked, but stayed in position.

  “N-no, sir.” Her voice was little more than a pained whimper.

  “He will, if I know Mike, that is.” Von patted her bottom gently. “You’re dismissed, beautiful girl. Tell Mike we appreciate him sharing his toys.”

  “Y-yes, sir.” She shot back up, her hands swiftly returning her skirt to rights, and she moved away unsteadily, head up, refusing to look at the bystanders watching from the other tables.

  “For a novice, she’s actually a good girl. Obedient.” They both looked on silently as she receded into the farthest reaches of the restaurant, Mike already striding toward her. Von turned his gaze back to Troy. “That answer any questions about what this place is about?”

  Troy exhaled a long breath, shifting in his seat in a vain effort to find a position more comfortable for his throbbing erection. “Sure did. And now I have even more.”

  Chapter 8

  “I have to admit — I wasn’t sure you’d go through with it.”

  He found her exactly where he told her he expected her — back to one of the posts of their huge bed. Her naked, vulnerable breasts heaved with her quickened breathing, goosebumps upon her skin despite the comfortable heat of the room. Her gently curved belly sucked in and out rapidly as she waited anxiously for the discipline he’d decreed for her.

  Her arousal, a spicy note on the air, was clear, the glistening blatantly visible between the lips of her sex. The glossy curls between her trembling thighs shone under the overhead light.

  She’d cuffed one wrist behind her to the post, but left the other free as a precaution.

  He’d quickly cuffed that one too as soon as he’d arrived in their bedroom. The position left her helpless, her bosom front and center — the target, the focus.

  His obsession.

  “I-I don’t know if I can do this, Troy.”

  He gave her a cool look.

  “Sir, I mean.”

  “Why not? You knew what was coming, did you not? Don’t tell me you’re going to… you’ve never done it before.”

  There was a first time for everything though, and just like this would be the first time he’d comprehensively disciplined her soft, generous breasts, perhaps this would be the first instance he’d pushed her to the brink.

  Thus far, there didn’t seem to be a brink with Lacey. Each time he’d pushed her boundaries, she’d simply gone with it, no matter how uncertain she was.

  No matter how much it hurt.

  And this was likely to hurt quite a bit.

  “I… I’m afraid. They’re so sensitive.”

  He knew it too. Her nipples seemed perpetually erect now, and the mere whisper of his fingertips across their hard prominence had her practically panting. Even a mild pinch — something that used to turn her on like almost nothing else — was difficult to bear now. She’d confessed that it still felt good — very good. But it was a sensation that was almost overly intense.

  There was such a thing as too much of a good thing, apparently.

  “Like we’ve talked about before, Lacey girl. Never more than you can stand. Be brave for me.”

  Her cheeks colored as she swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

  “Anything you’d like to confess for
this week? Or should we proceed?”

  The length of soft rope in his hands swung languidly, Lacey’s wide-eyed gaze following the motion, then darting back up to watch him.

  “I-I touched… it.”

  “What, specifically, did you touch?”

  Her face flushed a deep crimson. “My pussy.”

  “Was it during your shower?” He knew the answer, of course, but he enjoyed drawing out her admissions of these little transgressions.

  “No, sir. It was, in bed. While you were gone.”

  He affected a scowl. “I know we’ve talked about this. Were my orders unclear?”

  “No. But I missed you.”

  “Do you think I’d have let you touch that pussy if I’d have been lying there next to you?”

  He took great delight in denying her, something that still mortified her as much as it fired her desire even higher. He didn’t think she fully understood why that turned her on — but he liked it that way. It was a unique — and powerful — form of control. And one he intended to explore further with her as time went on.

  “No, sir. Only if… I was very good.”

  “Maybe not even then?”

  She simply nodded, looking down. Her nipples were incredibly hard, her darkened areolas pulling tight, small bumps quite visible all over them. It was a fetching sight.

  “Well, we’ll have to address that then, won’t we? What do you think should be done about that, bad girl?”

  “I should be… punished. Sir.” Her voice threatened to crack, but she knew better than to do anything but speak clearly.

  “I think so too. I’d intended on just disciplining those big tits of yours tonight, but maybe I’ll also need to give that greedy cunt of yours a reminder of whom it belongs to, hmm?”

  She shuddered, but said nothing.

  “We’ll see how good you are while we take care of these boobs for you.”

  He didn’t let her say another word, stepping forward and taking their heavy weight in his hands, the glorious feeling of her soft breasts in his palms something that never failed to make his cock stand up high and hard. He’d chosen a pair of gray sweats and a black t-shirt for clothing tonight, wanting to be comfortable while he disciplined her — and wanting it to be obvious what her punishment was doing to him.

  He knew full well she could already clearly see his erection.

  That he had more than a little sadistic streak in him was something he was at peace with — and something they’d both discovered turned her on even more. That he was aroused by disciplining her, both heightened her mortification, and turbo-charged her own arousal. She’d confessed that knowing he took pleasure in bending her to his will made it harder and sweeter all at once.

  It was just how things were — and as long as his wonderful, yielding Lacey would have him, it always would be that way.

  “These aren’t too sore, are they? You pumped, yes?”

  “Yes, sir.” Her cheeks blushed still more, the subject of her lactation never failing to amplify her embarrassment. She knew it made his cock hard simply watching her put the pump’s cups to her nipples, and though it had shocked her at first, she’d learned to at least tolerate it in silence, even though her blushing cheeks betrayed her embarrassment at his blatant enjoyment of her lactation.

  “I’m glad they’re not too sore, dear — but they’re going to be sore shortly. Are you ready to begin?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He slapped her breast. “Louder.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Smacking both of them in turn, loving the way they moved, he growled at her. “Louder, bad girl.”

  “Yes, SIR!” Her eyes where already brimming, her lips swollen and trembling, her eyes dilated.

  “Good.” He held up the rope. “Stay still for this.”

  Making quick work of it, he wrapped the rope around her chest, just under the heaving breasts, then using that as an anchor, proceeded to wrap each breast at the base using a figure eight pattern, finishing it up with smaller lengths of rope coiled individually around each heavy, swelling breast.

  When he was finished, each one bulged, her soft flesh already pinkening, the curves now presented in even more dramatic, swollen prominence. Her breathing came in pants, her eyes wide as she looked down at her captive bosom.

  Flipping open the leather-bound box he’d laid on the bed behind her, he drew out the gleaming steel, holding up the jaws so she could see what came next.

  He’d chosen the smooth-jawed versions, the crocodile clamps reserved only for very serious punishment sessions. Though she probably considered this most serious indeed, he didn’t consider the crocodiles appropriate unless she’d truly transgressed in some profound way.

  There would be time for those too, if he knew his wonderful — and sometimes delightfully obstinate — wife.

  This time though, he’d made a small, but quite important, modification to the clamps. He’d added a wrap of eighty grit sandpaper to each set of jaws. They might not be crocodile teeth, but they’d make his Lacey tolerably uncomfortable.

  She closed her eyes, her teeth gritting as he allowed the clamp to close over the first red nipple.

  “Breathe through it, girl. Let it flow. It’s supposed to hurt — brave now.”

  Her flesh was squeezed almost white under the cruel stricture, and he traced it with his fingertips, his cock feeling like it wanted to burst out from behind his sweats.

  “Ready for the next one?”

  She shook her head, but ground out the words anyway. “Yes… sir.”

  He took firm hold of her breast, squeezing it harshly above the coil of rope at the base, the nipple swelling still more, upturned and throbbing a deep red.

  A tight whimper escaped her clamped lips as he affixed the steel to her nipple.

  “Oh, Jesus…”

  “Fuck, you look incredible. Tits tied so tight and hurting. You poor girl.”

  He tested the slickness between her pussy lips, her breath bursting out in a harsh gasp as he thrust two fingers deep, thrusting briskly, running his fingertips over the rough spot along the top of her vagina. It was already swollen too — no doubt made worse by denying her an orgasm for the past few days. He still hadn’t decided if he’d allow her to come tonight.

  “Is this cunt needy? Do you want to come? Squirt all over my fingers?”

  “Oh, fuck me, yes!”

  The desperation in her voice, the frustration, and lust, and pain all intertwined, confusing her, and heightening every sense, was a sound he’d never tire of. He wanted her desperate. He wanted her to look to him for all of it — her pleasure, her pain, her relief, her solace.

  Her Master.

  It was title they’d only played with now and then, but more and more, it had come up, the subject one that he knew they both thought of. The meaning of it, the import of what it might signal for their dynamic.

  She was becoming more than just his submissive wife. Lacey was becoming… what she really was deep down inside.

  And he relished the idea of making her face the truth of it — whether she was ready for it or not.

  Curling his fingertips against her, he had her hips bucking in seconds, her sex squeezing tight around his digits, the sounds of her wet pussy being plundered by his fingers bringing a selfish, evil grin to his face, her pretty blush darkening still more.

  “So wet already, even with your nipples on fire. Do you like the pain, girl?”

  He knew the real answer, the truth — but he enjoyed forcing her to confront it.

  “No…yes. Oh God, it hurts!”

  “I know it does, sweet girl. Be strong for me. You can do this.” He kissed her wet, feverish lips, and she kissed him right back, leaning into him as much as her tight bonds allowed, her tongue thrusting deep, belying her true feelings, her fervency matched by the juices dripping from his wrist as he continued working her helpless pussy.

  He nipped her swollen lips, taking her tongue gently between his teeth, sucking on
her, taking her there just as much at his fingers took her between the slippery lips of her cunt.

  “I thought of you — of this — while I was there in White Valley, visiting. Seeing. I wanted you — right then and there. I wanted to take you, hard. Make you scream. Make you cry. Make you beg for it to stop. Hear you plead for me to never, ever, stop. I needed you, Lacey girl.”

  “You…have me. Sir. Always…” Her tears began to flow then, wetting her cheeks, their salty trails touching his tongue as they met her lips. He savored them too, reveled in her surrender, her yielding to him in every way.

  He leaned back slightly, taking in her tearful face, her brimming, bright eyes. “You’re so beautiful. Never more beautiful than when you have those sweet tears on your cheeks, Lacey. Never.”

  She looked down, the tears coming harder, her voice a watery warble. “Please…”

  “Ready for me to take these off?”

  Her nod was quick, frantic.

  “Be strong, Lacey girl. This won’t feel good.”

  He took them off swiftly, and she sucked in a great breath. Then she sobbed, her head lolling as she dealt with the blood flow returning to the compressed tissues.

  Caressing her cheek, he pressed soft kisses to her lips as she cried, cooing to her, stroking her hair. “You’re doing fine, girl. So strong, so brave. You can do it.”

  It was the sweetest — and the most twisted — moment, savoring her dealing with such intense sensation. It was the fact that he forced her to endure it that spoke to both of them — if perhaps in different ways. The fact was, she liked the pain, even if it was so very hard to experience it. She needed him to force her to confront that need, to guide her deep into those waters — but never let her go.

  She needed him to always be there for her, no matter how much it hurt, however hard it was to bear.

  And Troy knew from the depths of his black heart, that he would never — ever — let her face it alone.

  He brought her down slowly, reveling in her soft, wordless pleas as he gently caressed her hard, tortured nipples. Finally, only sniffles remained, and he smiled at her, smearing her tears across her cheek with his thumb.

  “Let’s get these nasty ropes off too.”