Expecting Surrender (Dominion Trust Book 3)

by Trent Evans

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Tom laughed. “I promised. Look, but don’t touch, right?”

  “Yep, that’s it.”

  “That’s fine. I’m not going to lie though; you’re going to see some things tonight.”

  “Things? I can only imagine,” Keihl said, grimacing.

  “You thinking about Conall?”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Conall’s not so bad. Once you get used to things.”

  “Not sure I’ll ever get used to something like that.”

  Tom rubbed his chin. “You don’t have to keep doing that, you know.”

  “What?”

  “That. Playing dumb. I know you’re into this shit. I watched you over at Conall’s. You couldn’t take your eyes off of that girl.”

  Keihl rolled his eyes. “What did you expect me to do? Sit there and act like she wasn’t there?”

  “No. The only thing I expect you to do is to be honest. And maybe you could relax a little bit too.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” Keihl said, drumming his fingers along the top of the door. “Just a lot to wrap my head around here, my friend. Gotta give me some time.”

  Keihl was silent for a while, listening to Tom and Nathan banter back and forth as they drove on.

  What was he prepared to really do? It turned him on — immensely — to see Katrin bound like that in Conall’s living room. It disturbed him too. Maybe he and Tom weren’t so different after all? Maybe he could stop kidding himself for once? Perhaps if he just sat down with Kirsten and talked about all this, then they might find a way to connect on a deeper level. Find yet another level of their love for each other that they didn’t even know existed. He wanted that, more than anything. He knew he’d been distant lately, the pressures of his job, his ambitions, pulling him away from that gorgeous, bewitching woman. The love of his life.

  Then thoughts of Kirsten’s beautiful face twisting into horrified disgust as he told her what he wanted to try. What he thought she might be interested in. She’d be revolted. She’d probably tell him to go fuck himself. But maybe not. The Game had showed him something, a side to her she’d kept carefully hidden. A libidinous, reckless part of her that he fed upon — that fed his own lust. Granted, The Game was a far cry from the things Tom had shown him the past few days. But when he thought of those books on her e-reader? Those weren’t at all far removed from it. Not one bit.

  The truck pulled up Tom’s driveway, and as they bounced their way up toward the house, Tom turned to Keihl. “Just one more thing. Something I need you to come clean about.”

  “Oh Christ, what now?” Keihl’s rueful smile creased his lips.

  “Sharon.” Tom glanced toward the front as the tinted partition lowered. “Are you attracted to her?”

  “Tom — what the fuck, man!” Keihl unsnapped his belt, throwing it back against the door. “What kind of question is that?”

  “I need to know.”

  Keihl was silent a moment, his jaw clenched. “Yes. God, I can’t believe I am telling you this shit.”

  A broad smile brightened Tom’s face, and he unbuckled his own belt.

  “Why did you ask me that?”

  “Because she wanted to know.”

  “What about you? Gonna pop me in the mouth?” Keihl had tensed up, waiting for it. Admitting you thought your best friend’s wife — slave — was hot, crossed about every social boundary he could think of. Maybe it was just the truth serum effect of alcohol, though really, his buzz was fading rapidly.

  Tom opened the door and slid out of the seat. He looked back at Keihl.

  “I already knew the answer. She just wanted me to make sure.”

  Keihl got out of the truck, and Tom bent close to Nathan’s open window, speaking to him in a hushed voice. Keihl looked up at the sky, shaking his head, and turned for the porch. The cicadas were buzzing loudly in the trees, and a warm breeze carried the smell of pollen upon it. The truck’s engine roared behind him as it turned back down the driveway with the sound of crunching gravel. Tom, key ring in hand, caught up to Keihl.

  “Why did Sharon want to know that?”

  Keihl was fairly sure he really didn’t want to know the answer to his own question.

  Tom fiddled with the key in the front door, giving him a sidelong glance as the door swung open, cool air-conditioned air wafting over their faces.

  “Because of what I’m about to show you.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Hello, Sir.” Sharon said. Her voice sounded... off.

  Keihl thought he’d braced himself, been ready for what he’d find inside that house. He was wrong.

  The first thing Keihl saw when they walked into the living room was Sharon’s naked ass. Her voice was muffled because she was bent over the back of the overstuffed couch. Her slim ankles were bound in leather, the manacles clipped closely together with a very short chain.

  “That’s my good girl,” Tom murmured, stroking the curve of Sharon’s bottom. She wriggled at his touch. “Keihl is here with us.”

  He heard the slightest intake of breath, saw a frisson of movement in her sleek thighs.

  Tom looked back at him, and walked over to Keihl, who’d frozen in place at the threshold to the living room. “Have a seat. Look, not touch, right?”

  Keihl nodded.

  The living room opened out to the dining room, and Tom indicated a dining room chair that had been helpfully turned toward the couch. A spectator’s perch.

  “Fine then. No pressure.” Tom moved back to his wife, and gave her ass a light slap. “You forgot something, my dear.”

  Her buttocks clenched slightly, then relaxed. “Sir?”

  Tom looked back at Keihl and grinned. “She’s knows better than this. My guess is she’s just angling for a spanking.”

  Keihl gulped. He hadn’t a clue what Tom was talking about. He could feel his erection rising though, and he decided to take the offered chair. He had no intention of standing there like some twelve year old with a tent pole in his pants.

  “What were you supposed to do today, Sharon?” Tom stood back a step, arms crossed over his chest. It looked as if he were talking to her ass. Maybe he was.

  “Present my bottom for your arrival home, Sir.”

  He had never heard either of them speak that way before. So… formal. Tom’s voice had taken on a sternness, as if he were addressing a recalcitrant girl rather than his beloved wife.

  “And what have we talked about? When you present that ass, unless stated otherwise, what state is it to be in?”

  “Naked, Sir.”

  “And it’s naked now, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her voice cracked ever so slightly.

  “So what’s wrong here? How have you failed me, Sharon?”

  There was a quiet, tense pause. The only sound Keihl could hear was his own quickening breathing.

  “I’m waiting, girl. You know I don’t like that.”

  “Sorry, Sir,” Sharon said, a note of strain creeping into her voice. “I-I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

  “Yes, you do. If you don’t tell me, things will be worse for you.”

  “I… I forgot to leave my panties on.” The defeat in her voice was touching — and it made Keihl’s cock swell in his pants.

  Jesus.

  “Yes, you did, girl.” Tom ran his hand over her ass. Her flesh broke out in goosebumps at his touch. He glanced at Keihl. “Sometimes I like to take them down myself. She knows she’s supposed to leave them on. Silly girl.”

  Keihl cracked a half smile, feeling like an idiot. How was one supposed to react when watching his friend getting ready to spank his naked wife?

  Tom looked down at Sharon’s ass once more. “So what do you think we should do about this, hmm?”

  “Punish me, Sir.”

  “Yes, of course. I agree that’s in order. But what kind of punishment, girl?”

  “Whatever you think I deserve, Sir.”

  “Go
od answer.”

  Tom walked over to the huge stone fireplace, his hand sweeping down the slope of his wife’s back as he moved away. He fingered the brass handles of the ornate fireplace set, the black steel of the tongs and poker clinking together. Sharon twitched at the sound.

  He reached into the black painted steel mesh basket set near the hearth. The bright red of an umbrella could be seen inside, along with several other items, some with worn leather handles, others varnished wood. He pulled a pale length of rattan from the basket.

  “Please, not that,” Sharon said, her voice a breathless whisper.

  The genuine fright in her voice made Keihl’s cock throb even harder.

  Maybe it’s time to book that session with a shrink? Turned on by a woman’s fear?

  “Put your head down, girl,” Tom said, eyes flashing. “And keep quiet.”

  “Sorry, Sir.”

  Tom moved back to stand behind the couch, resting the cane across the trembling muscles of her lower back. He crouched down, pulling at the chains locking her ankles together. His hands roamed up her legs, feeling the tight, toned muscles. Then he eased the edge of his hand between her thighs, stroking against the hidden sex.

  “Normally, I love this position,” Tom said conversationally, tilting his head toward Keihl. “But the angle’s all wrong for getting a good look at her cunt. We’ll take care of that after her caning though.”

  The doomed buttocks twitched, and toes curled against the carpet. Tension thrummed off her still, vulnerable body like an electric current. Tom patted her ass, then stood, standing off to one side, the menacing rattan at the ready.

  “You sure about this? I wouldn’t be able to stand it.” Tom’s grin was ear to ear, his dark eyes flashing.

  “Yeah... I’m sure.” Keihl wanted to touch her. He couldn’t lie to himself about it. He felt terrible for it, but he knew it was just a male’s reaction to the pleasing curves of naked female buttocks. A biological response. Humans differentiated themselves from other animals by being able to resist those biological urges. Barely.

  The cane tapped across the fullest width of Sharon’s buttocks, and she grew still.

  “Let’s say six to start off,” Tom said, his jaw set. “Then we can discuss what to do about your behavior.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her voice was a barely audible murmur from the other side of the couch.

  The cane flicked in, surprising Keihl with both the speed and the seeming gentleness with which the stroke was delivered. He’d never seen someone caned before, and wasn’t really sure what to expect.

  The buttocks shivered, and there was a muted sound of protest from the cushions. A white line emblazoned itself across the summits of both sun-kissed cheeks, and Keihl watched, fascinated, as it slowly filled with color and swelled.

  The cane tapped again, lower this time, across the tender junction of thigh and buttock. Sharon jerked as the rattan snapped in once more.

  “Felt that one,” Tom murmured. “Stay still now.”

  Sharon froze once more. A third stroke landed, harder this time, lacing a rapidly pinkening line of hurt between the first two. The earlier strokes had swelled to tramlines, crossing the breadth of Sharon’s round bottom. They looked throbbing and painful, and Keihl was amazed that such a slight instrument, wielded so lightly, was capable of such results.

  The next stroke was laid across the upper thighs, and Sharon cried out, her voice jarringly loud in the quiet room. Tom lowered the cane and fingered the weals, running a fingertip along the most swollen tramline. “Very nice. You should feel these for a few days, dear.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Sharon said, voice quavering.

  Tom cracked the cane across the very top of her bottom, just at the rise of her buttocks. The stroke there was lighter, but her hips wriggled at the smart. Tom laid a hand on her lower back, and bent over close to her ear. Keihl could hear his whisper, but couldn’t make out individual words.

  Shifting his legs, Keihl tried to find a more comfortable position for his erection.

  “This last one will hurt, girl. Brace yourself.”

  Tom didn’t give her time for it though, slicing it down with considerable force. She wailed at the sting, her thighs squeezing together. The tramline filled almost immediately across the widest part of her cheeks, where the flesh was best able to sustain such damage.

  “There, that’s done now,” Tom said, resting the rattan along the top of the couch. He caressed his wife’s burning bottom. “Keihl and I will be back in a few minutes. Then we’ll have that talk about your failure to follow my instructions. Stay right where you are.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She swallowed, hard. “Thank you, Sir.”

  Tom beckoned Keihl to follow him, and the two men made their way out onto the back deck. The light was quite low at that point, twilight bleeding the color from the trees and flowers of the beautiful idyll of the backyard.

  Keihl stood at the railing, the heels of his hand pressed to the stained wood. Tom sat down at the table, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

  “I don’t know that I can do this, Tom.”

  “You mean... with Kirsten?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know if she’d ever go for this.”

  “What about you?”

  Keihl turned around, stroking the stubble he could feel starting at his chin and neck. He hadn’t shaved that morning. “I don’t know. I — like it. No point in bullshitting about it. But there’s no way Kirsten will go for this.”

  He wasn’t sure he was completely ready to admit just how much he liked it. Was he some kind of sadistic fuck who got off on beating helpless women? Maybe he was. Maybe he needed to check himself into the booby hatch.

  “I think you might be surprised.” Tom stood up, his bare, corded forearms crossed over his chest. “A lot of women like this stuff just as much as men do. Maybe even a little more.”

  Keihl grunted. “We wish, right?”

  “Exhibit A are those books on her reader, my friend.” Tom cocked an elbow toward the living room. “Exhibit B is my wife is in there following my instructions to the letter. She’s staying right where I left her, even though in a couple of minutes I’m going in there and spanking her ass red.”

  Keihl leveled a glance at his smiling friend. “Sharon isn’t Kirsten.”

  “Nope, you’re right. You two will have to find your own way — but you’ll find it.”

  “I don’t know. This is—”

  “Enough, Keihl. You aren’t fooling anyone, so you can drop the act. The only person here who feels weird about this is you.”

  “So she likes having her ass whipped?”

  He knew he shouldn’t even be having this conversation. The day had been so fucking strange, and it was getting stranger by the second.

  “Let me put it to you this way. I’m going to spank Sharon until she’s crying. When I’m done, her cunt is going to be dripping. If you were… inclined to, she’d gladly let you take advantage of that fact and fuck her brains out.”

  Keihl’s jaw dropped.

  “But I know you and Kirsten aren’t there yet. So, I get it. I need to keep reminding myself of that.”

  “Aren’t there yet? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Is it suddenly a bad thing to be faithful to my wife?”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. Shit.” Tom gave him a weary grin. “Couples like us — Sharon and I — it’s understood. That’s not an issue in the way it is for… vanilla people, I guess you’d say.”

  “I’m not even close to getting this, dude.”

  “She’s mine, and everybody else knows it. Mine. And it’s not like I’m fucking anyone else. That’s not my thing — sharing her is. When I feel like it, I let others use her.”

  Holy shit.

  “Use? You mean fuck.”

  Tom winked. “There’s a lot more that can be done with my slave girl than just fucking her, but yes, that’s definitely included.”

  “Anyone? Does she get a say in it?”

>   “Well, sure. If there’s someone she absolutely can’t stand, I’m not going to force the issue.” Tom’s gaze cooled. “But in general, what I say, goes. And if I want to share her with someone, she obeys my wishes. She enjoys being the little party favor more than you’ll ever know, though. Believe me.”

  “Fuck me,” Keihl whispered, looking down.

  “That can be arranged.” Tom walked to the slider, easing it open. He cocked his head back at his friend. “Stop being a pussy, and at least come watch. That’s allowed, isn’t it? You can learn how to do this right, when the time comes.”

  He opened his mouth, fully prepared to tell Tom to go fuck himself. But his friend had disappeared back into the house.

  Jesus Christ, what have you gotten yourself into here, Keihl?

  * * *

  “What do you have to say for yourself, Sharon?”

  Keihl had returned to his chair. The lines across Sharon’s ass had darkened, a couple of them turning almost purplish. He winced as he watched Tom’s fingers gently squeeze one of them. A low keening came from the other side of the couch.

  “I’m sorry for disobeying you, Sir. I was supposed to leave my panties on for you.”

  “And?”

  “I need to be punished… Sir.”

  “But I just caned you. That wasn’t enough for you?”

  Tom’s hand slipped between her thighs, and she sighed.

  “N-no, Sir.”

  “Insatiable slut,” Tom said, pulling his hand away to show Keihl the copious moisture spread over his fingers. Keihl crossed his hands over the span of his legs, his cock hard as a steel spike once more.

  “What do you need then, Sharon?”

  She couldn’t quite suppress the trembling in her voice. “I need to be — spanked. Please.”

  “Very well, since you asked nicely.”

  Tom leaned a hip against the couch, allowing him to peer over at his wife. “Shall I have Keihl give you your spanking?”

  He rose to his feet. “Tom, I said no—”

  His friend flashed him a quelling look and waved a quick hand at him. Keihl held his tongue.

  “I-If he would like to,” she murmured.

  “Does it make your pussy wet? The idea of Keihl spanking you?”