Valley of Surrender Series - Vol.1

by Trent Evans

  For a moment, they just stood there, looking down upon her. Amy had discarded her strappy heels, leaving them neatly at the foot of bed before kneeling, her bottom spread upon her bare feet. The skin-tight jeans displayed the heart-shaped lusciousness of the woman’s ass to perfection, Hunter suppressing a momentary urge to reach down and squeeze those gorgeous cheeks in his hands. Hard.

  “You know what to do, girl,” Keenan finally said.

  She looked back at him, nodding, her lower lip trembling ever so slightly. “Yes, Sir.”

  “We’ll be waiting then.” Keenan tapped his knuckles against Hunter’s arm. “Come on. Let’s take a seat.”

  Flicking on another set of lights, this time an entire bank of down-lit incandescents, Keenan led Hunter over to a set of high-backed chairs that looked transplanted straight out of a Victorian mansion. Finely embroidered with a silvery thread, the dark upholstery looked too fine to even contemplate sitting on, but Keenan dropped right down into one, sighing as he did.

  He looked up at Hunter, waving him to his own chair. “Go on. Make yourself comfortable.”

  “Keenan, what… is this?”

  The man’s eyes still fixed on his wife, he spoke in low, soft tones. “This… is what it means to live here. This is just a part. Von wanted you to see how things can go.” Keenan met Hunter’s gaze. “The question is — are you ready to see?”

  “Hell yes,” Hunter said, hoping his bravado would mask the pounding of his heart, his mouth so dry he was surprised he’d been able to form the words. “I came here to see. Troy warned me before I did. I’ve already…seen a few things.”

  And they were far beyond anything Troy let me in on beforehand.

  “Shall I tell her to proceed then?”

  Hunter found the cryptic way seemingly everyone in the town talked to be frustrating at best, maddening at worst. He had no choice but to agree, though he still had no real idea what he was agreeing to.

  Oh, but you know.

  Hunter could only nod, the lump in his throat momentarily precluding speech.

  “Come over here, girl,” Keenan intoned.

  Amy rose to her feet with a grace that bespoke long practice. She walked closer, coming to a halt mere feet away. Her body straightened, breasts thrust out, shoulders back. She faced directly forward, her bright eyes seemingly focused on a point somewhere behind their chairs. The overhead fixtures bathed her in light, the thick locks of her red hair partially shrouding her features in shadow.

  “Strip,” Keenan said, his voice terse.

  Immediately, her slender fingers worked at the buttons of her snug shirt, the fabric falling to the floor in short order. She unfastened her jeans then, working them slowly off, her hips wagging as she pushed the denim down her legs. Stepping out of them, she folded the jeans neatly, setting them on the floor next to the crumpled pile of her shirt.

  “The top too,” Keenan growled. “You know better than that.”

  “Sorry, Sir,” she whispered, folding the red shirt quickly as well, laying it atop her jeans. She straightened, her hands at her sides, fingers visibly trembling.

  They took in the sight of her solid blue bra, her low-cut panties a blue and white striped pattern. Here and there, the brutally tight jeans had left faint red impressions on her pale flesh, making Hunter want to trace them with his fingertips — or something else.

  You’re here to watch — not fuck.

  But was that really true? As he’d looked on, mesmerized, as Von had disciplined Celina right there in front of he and Troy, Hunter had the distinct feeling that if he were even a little bit less of a stranger, the evening wouldn’t have ended with a mere spanking and tearful promises to do better from the bewitching Celina.

  He can’t have been the only one to notice how wet the woman’s pussy was as she was being punished, how hard those coral nipples stood up when she’d been ordered to give her post-discipline thank yous to both Von, and the two watching men.

  Keenan gave his wife a quick nod then, and she unsnapped the bra, letting it fall, her generous breasts rising and falling with her breaths, the bright pink nipples tightening before their eyes. Pausing, she met her husband’s gaze for a moment, something passing between them. He made a sound, somewhere between anticipation and admonishment, and she slipped her thumbs into the skimpy waistband of her panties, her face blushing scarlet as she drew them down and off as well. The sway of her heavy breasts as she stepped out of the panties made Hunter’s cock ache, even as he knew there would be no relief for it anytime soon.

  The thought of Lacey’s lush buttocks reddening under his hand flitted through Hunter’s mind again. Months later, he still thought of that night far more often than he should have. That had been one helluva Christmas present from his best friend — and from his best friend’s wife.

  Christ, we gotta find you a girl.

  Amy stood up once more, her face burning the color of her hair.

  “Hands behind your head,” Keenan said.

  Reluctance pouring from the gorgeous woman, she complied, her breasts rising higher as she took the required position.

  “This is the hardest part for her,” Keenan murmured, stroking his chin. “This is when she thinks of disobeying most. It’s not when she’s trying not to cry out as she’s spanked, or begging me for forgiveness as I turn her ass the same shade as that hair of hers, or swallowing down another mouthful of my come. It’s now — when forced to display it all. No protection, no shields, no hiding. Now — when she’s most beautiful.” He sat forward, arms on his legs, his eyes glittering as he stared up at the motionless Amy. “And most mine.”

  Hunter let himself take in the beauty of the nude woman before him, whether or not it was right. Here in White Valley, right and wrong seemed to have a unique… malleability.

  Her thighs were lush, but strong, the bright red of her pubic hair a stark counterpoint to the pallor of her clear skin. He knew women spent many thousands of dollars for skin as flawless as hers. Her belly had a pleasing roundness to it, the gentle curve beckoning a possessive stroke, the buoyant breasts, the prominent nipples seemingly made for a man’s palms — or his tongue. A single tear slipped down her cheek, the light catching it as it coursed across her skin. She wiped it away with her inner arm, drawing in a long shaky breath then looking straight ahead once more.

  Then Hunter noticed it. A tattoo.

  Low enough to be hidden by even the most daringly brief bikini, just above the russet curls of her pubis, was an arc of flowing script in purple, scarlet and green. It was too small to read even this close, and Hunter had to practice Herculean self-control not to lean forward and stare. On her otherwise perfect alabaster skin it could have been garish, out of place. Instead, it was an enhancement, something that made her in some strange way, even more alluring.

  But he would have to wait a little longer to learn what it read.

  “You think this is wrong, don’t you?” Keenan looked over at Hunter. “It’s okay — be honest.”

  “I don’t know what to think. But wrong isn’t what comes to mind.” Hunter looked away, unable to bear Keenan’s suddenly intent gaze. “She’s beautiful… I’d be proud of her too.”

  He just wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to be so willing to share as the men here apparently were. He wondered if that was as much a part of living in White Valley as the morning mist and the afternoon breeze.

  “Good… good,” Keenan said, sitting back once more and waving a finger toward the waiting woman. “Turn around.”

  She moved slowly, pausing a moment, as if contemplating defiance. Then she obeyed, turning her bottom toward them, the smooth, shapely buttocks only marred in a couple of places by fading marks, a light ghost of a bruise blemishing the paleness low on one cheek. Her back was strong and firm, tapering down to the pleasing sweep of her hips. Hunter was struck with an urge to stroke a palm down the length of her lovely legs, to feel the strength and grace so apparent in the limbs.

  Keenan leaned
forward once more, until perched on the edge of his seat, reaching out to trace fingertips across that mark, a pride of ownership plain in his touch.

  “Flawless, yes?”

  Hunter swallowed, shifting his legs again in response to his increasingly throbbing cock. “She’s… incredible.”

  She made a tiny sound at that, shifting her weight slightly, and Keenan clasped her hip as if to calm a fractious animal. He pressed a quick kiss to her soft flank. “It’s okay, girl. I told you, didn’t I?” Keenan shrugged, glancing over at Hunter. “She still thinks of herself as this hideous thing, despite the beauty we can plainly see before us.”

  Hunter remembered Lacey again, how she’d been convinced she was ugly, fat, worried that Troy wouldn’t think she was good enough for him anymore — especially after the baby came.

  How deluded the girl was.

  If Lacey were his, he’d never let her go. Hell, he’d told Troy the same thing — and the man hadn’t argued either. Both men knew how special, how beautiful Lacey was — even if she’d never allow herself to see it.

  Jesus, Hunt. Get her out of your head.

  Hadn’t that been one of the reasons he’d agreed to Troy’s proposition of a visit out to White Valley? To start anew? To find someone who’d finally accept Hunter for what he really was?

  Thoughts of his best friend’s wife weren’t exactly what he’d had in mind when it came to the idea of starting over.

  Keenan made Amy wait a moment more, then drew back into his seat, holding up his hand, finger twirling.

  “You can turn back around.”

  Hunter wasn’t sure if he saw relief in her blushing face, her eyes darting from him then to Keenan before she took up her previous position, chin up, gaze forward.

  “What day is it, dear?” Keenan’s fingers drummed on one arm of his chair. “And why are we here?”

  “It’s Wednesday, Sir.”

  “More specific. What happens on Wednesdays?”

  Amy’s pink tongue darted out to wet her lower lip. “M-Maintenance. Sir.”

  “That’s right. What happens on Maintenance days?”

  Hunter knew about the Friday Maintenance Nights Troy and Lacey had instituted. It surprised him though to witness another couple that apparently practiced the same thing.

  Amy flicked a glance at Hunter, which drew a growl from her husband. “Eyes on me. Hunter’s here to watch how we handle things here in the valley.”

  Eyes once more on her husband, she swallowed. “Sorry, Sir. Maintenance is to… reinforce my submission to you.”

  “What else?”

  “Please,” she whispered, looking at the floor, fresh tears coursing down her flushed cheeks.

  “What else, Amy?”

  “And to punish me for any faults or times I’ve disobeyed you. To correct me for things that you… may have missed during the week.”

  “Or that you didn’t report.” Keenan unbuttoned one of the sleeves of his dress shirt, rolling it up a sinewed forearm as he spoke. “Speaking of which — do you have anything to tell me? Any instance of disobedience or failing to follow my instructions?”

  “Oh God,” Amy dropped her gaze again, shutting her eyes tight. A tear dropped onto one of her breasts, wetness tracking down toward a deep pink — and very hard — nipple.

  “We’re waiting, girl.” Keenan finished rolling up the other sleeve, the hair on his arms dark against deeply tanned skin. “Better to get it all out now. If I find out about it after the fact, it will go worse for you.”

  She looked up, more tears cascading down her cheeks. “I — spoke angrily to my mother again. Twice, on the phone. She… was nagging me.”

  “About what?”

  “To book a trip out to see her and Dad.”

  “And why would that be nagging?”

  Amy sniffled, her brow furrowing. “I… I just saw them two months ago.”

  “They’re your parents, Amy. Book the trip. That’s an order.”

  She met her husband’s fierce gaze then, staring silently for a moment, as if waiting for something.

  Keenan sighed. “No, you won’t be punished for that. You’ve got plenty to have that cute ass tanned for already, my girl. Now, anything else?”

  “No, Sir.” Amy straightened slightly, wiping at her face with her inner arm again.

  Hunter marveled at the way she kept her hands glued to the back of her head. He wondered just what went on between these two. It was surely a deeper, more serious dynamic than he’d even witnessed between Lacey and Troy. He wasn’t sure he felt entirely okay with it, but regardless, his cock was still hard enough to pulverize rock.

  Part of him had no problem at all with what he was witnessing.

  “Before we begin, I want to hear it.” Keenan tipped his head in Hunter’s direction. “Our guest should hear it too.”

  Amy drew a deep breath, her breasts rising, the single tear glistening at the tip of her nipple now.

  “I — we — have agreed to this. Please discipline me as you see fit, Sir.”

  “You’re sure about this?” Keenan’s gaze flashed. “You’re not being forced into this, are you?”

  Amy chanced a glance at Hunter once more, and what he saw in her eyes loosened the grip the tension in the room had on him, even if only a little. He saw two things in those eyes — fear, and lust.

  The same two things he’d seen in Lacey’s gaze when he’d disciplined her all those months ago.

  “No, Sir. I’m not being forced,” Amy said softly, a slight rasp in her voice.

  “Good.” Keenan held out a hand. “Over my lap, girl.”

  Time seemed to slow as the woman negotiated her place, draped across Keenan’s thighs, her breasts swinging like bells below her as she adjusted herself, her face flaming red once more before she lowered her head fully, the veil of her hair concealing her shame.

  “It just occurred to me, Hunter, that you’re on the wrong side.”

  “What?” Hunter’s mouth was so dry, his voice had been reduced to a hoarse whisper.

  “The wrong side to watch her punishment. You can’t even see her ass from there, can you? Her head is toward your side.”

  Now it was Hunter’s turn to blush, and Keenan grinned at it.

  “No… that’s really okay.”

  Amy wiggled and Keenan slapped her bottom lightly. “Stay still. If I want him to see your bottom, you’ll let him. Clear?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she said, miserably.

  “You sure?” Keenan asked, patting her buttocks, a glint in his eye as he looked over at Hunter once more. “View is much better over here.”

  Hunter, for one moment, considered if it would make him a complete bastard if he actually got up and stood behind her to watch her husband spank her ass.

  He decided he wasn’t that much of a dick. Not yet anyway. He shook his head.

  “Suit yourself,” Keenan said, giving him a wink. He looked down at Amy’s back, his hand rubbing circles over her bottom, the other holding her tightly by her waist, tucking her close to his body. “Ready, girl?”

  “Yes… Sir.”

  The first smack rang out loud and harsh, and Hunter blinked his eyes, startled. Amy merely wriggled slightly, barely seeming to register the effect of the blow. Keenan tipped her further over his left leg, dropping her head lower, her long auburn curls brushing against the floor. The new position forced her to brace her hands on the carpet, exposing her swaying breasts to Hunter’s too-keen gaze.

  Then Keenan began, striking each buttock hard several times until seeming to find the rhythm he wanted, taking up a steady drumbeat, smacking her over and over, left then right. Sometimes he would vary his spanks, landing several in a row on the same spot until she shrieked, while at other times he’d lift each cheek in turn, whistling in several hard blows across the sensitive junction of her thighs and buttocks.

  Keenan paused, bending over his wife and whispering something to her such that Hunter couldn’t make out the words. Then Keenan rub
bed her bottom slowly for her, both men listening to her sniffling. Tucking her close once more, Keenan began again, smacking still harder, tipping her over so far now that Hunter could clearly see the crowns of both buttocks, her flesh glowing an angry red.

  Taking his time, Keenan continued her punishment, stopping at several intervals, sometimes to simply caress her stinging flesh, murmuring to his wife, while at others, he’d whisper to her in harsh tones. She’d open her legs, and his fingers would delve between her thighs, Hunter’s position precluding a clear view, but the wet sounds leaving no doubt that Keenan’s fingers deeply plundered his wife’s charms. He’d work her up until her hips bucked, her cries turning to pained moans. He’d finally relent, Amy’s breath coming hard and fast, as he wiped his fingers on her hip, leaving a glistening trail of wetness. Then he’d lay a palm on her bottom once more, taking up her punishment yet again.

  Spanking her long and hard, Keenan did not let up until his lovely wife was openly weeping, her legs kicking up at each hard blow. With one last harsh flurry of smacks, her flesh bounding and shuddering, Keenan finished off her punishment, leaving Amy sobbing forlornly over his lap.

  Hunter, shocked, was torn between wanting to comfort the girl, and yet not wanting to interfere with something so intimate between a man and his wife.

  Troy had warned him that they took the philosophy of “man as the head of household” seriously here in White Valley.

  Holy fuck, he wasn’t lying.

  His wife’s sobs reduced to sniffles, Keenan took her into his arms. She went freely to him, clinging to him fiercely, fresh tears spilling as she laid her head on his chest, her lips a bright, swollen red, eyes closed tightly. Keenan stroked her hair, pressing soft kisses to her head, her temple, his thumbs wiping away her tears. He rocked her like that for several long minutes, Hunter watching, rapt, horribly turned-on, and feeling horribly out of place at the same time.