A Submissive's Dream (Divine Designs)

by Maggie Ryan

  "That sounds great," Ryan said, knowing that if he provided the couple with what they wanted, it would mean another project for his company.

  Elizabeth stood and hugged him. "Now aren't you glad you not only left Spectacular Spaces but convinced Julie to come with you?" she asked with a grin.

  "You better believe it," Ryan said. "I'll never work for anyone again if I can help it, especially an asshole like Greg Spencer. I can't thank you enough, Liz for giving me a chance. This project will really help my firm get established and go a long way towards convincing Julie that it wasn't a mistake. I promise to do the best job I can."

  "I know you will," Elizabeth said. She had always liked the man; when he had called to inform her and Nancy that he was leaving his old company and forming his own, they had been thrilled. They both liked the idea of helping him get his start. They both appreciated Garrett Foster's premise of helping fledgling, skilled individuals get established in the competitive world of construction, architecture and design. Garrett had been a huge mentor for their own firm, Divine Designs, and they were both thrilled at helping another. "Oh, and we need you to talk to Garrett about a picture window in the ballroom and let us know the estimated additional cost."

  Ryan agreed, already realizing that a much larger window would offer a spectacular view. He smiled as the couple walked away. This was not only a huge project; it promised to be an interesting and exciting one as well. He hoped that he and Julie would be one of the very first guests to check in.

  They found the barn first. It was hidden among the trees and had definitely been used for livestock. Stalls took up the lower floor, and there were still hay bales stacked in one stall. Though the ladder leading to an opening in the ceiling promised a huge second story, Logan would not allow her to put one foot on it.

  "That is way too rotten," he said, before turning to her. "If I catch you attempting to climb this, I guarantee that whipping you got last night will seem like nothing more than soft strokes from that flogger you love so much." Her bottom instantly clenched under her shorts even as she rolled her eyes, looking longingly up towards the opening in the ceiling. Logan shook his head as her hands reached out to hold onto the ladder even though her feet never left the ground.

  His hand instantly connected to her bottom, and she gave a quick yelp. Her own hands flew from the ladder to rub against her seat. "Okay, okay, I get the picture," she said, scowling at him.

  He shook his head. "I mean it, Schatzlein. You'd likely kill yourself if the rungs broke and you fell. I'll have Ryan bring in a ladder, and then you may at least go up and look through the hole. However, unless you'd like to discover how much you like the cane, I suggest you not step one foot on that floor until Ryan has a chance to make sure it is safe. Clear?"

  "Crystal, Sir," she said, and rolled her eyes. He was firm about his rules and expectations, but he was absolutely unmovable on anything he considered might endanger her. She had no doubt that if she disobeyed him, she wouldn't sit for an entire week. She wasn't sure that even she could handle a caning given by her pissed-off Dom.

  They left the barn and walked around for a long time before she spotted a slight glare off in some trees. "I think it's over here," she said and pointed. Logan took her hand and they set off through the weeds. "We really do need to get some of this cut down," she said as she felt something scratch at her leg.

  "Yeah, I'd hate to even think about the rats or snakes that could be in these weeds," Logan said. Elizabeth froze in her tracks, her eyes darting about, as if to see a hundred vipers, jaws wide, forked tongues flickering, fangs dripping with venom, slithering through the grass towards her feet.

  Logan heard her whimper and reached to pick her up. She wrapped herself around him. He knew he wouldn't be able to put her down until they escaped the tall grasses. He chuckled and continued walking until they reached the building.

  Like Ryan said, it appeared to be an old shed, though much bigger than either of them would have considered as a shed. It was about twenty-five feet long and probably at least fifteen feet wide. He tried to push open the door, which appeared to be solid oak, and was also clearly locked. He stepped back, setting her on her feet and grinned as he saw her eyes darting around the old porch. He reached up to run his hand across the drip cap. He pulled down an old-fashioned key and inserted it into the lock, taking several tries to make the lock give. He smiled when it clicked open, pushing open the door and motioning her to go ahead.

  "Oh my God," she said, turning in a slow circle to survey the room. On the walls hung various items, most all being some sort of leather strap or wooden paddle. In one area, a large sawhorse stood that had an ancient, mildewing pillow strapped to the beam, held in place by additional leather straps. In another area, a long wooden bench, complete with straps at each foot, was covered in dust. A huge oak wooden barrel lay on its side, its purpose a mystery to her. Her face turned scarlet when she saw an actual set of stocks in one corner. "I can't believe this," she whispered.

  "Look in the corner," Logan said pointing to where an unusually tall wooden stool sat. On the wall beside the stool hung what appeared to be some sort of slate board. They walked closer to discover it was an old chalkboard, a long strap attached to one end. A thin string tied around the strap held an ancient piece of chalk. Logan chuckled as Elizabeth looked puzzled. "Imagine this: you've been naughty and sent out to the pouting house. You are told to write down your transgression on this slate and hang it around your neck—the reason you are to be punished clearly visible on your chest as you sit on your naughty stool."

  Her eyes were huge. "Logan, oh my God, what were these people into?" His laugh bellowed through the building as he looked at her face. Hearing him laugh, she shook her head and then was laughing just as hard. "And here I thought I had the original idea of what this property could be," she said as she continued to look around the room.

  "Hey, look at this," Logan called from where he had walked through a doorway about two-thirds of the way down the length of the room. She went to him to see what appeared to be an old stone well, a thick wooden slab covering the opening. "I bet the original purpose of this building was a well-house," Logan said. "People had to dig for their own water back in the day. If you were lucky, you found fresh water pretty close to the surface. My great-grandparents had an old farm in Oklahoma. They had a well like this and it was also in a building. Being inside kept wild animals out of the well. If they fell in and died, it would contaminate their water supply." He grinned as he pulled her into his arms. "In fact, if I remember correctly, they didn't call it a well house; they called it the pouting house. When my great-grandmother would get mouthy or bratty, PawPaw would send her to the pouting house. She was supposed to finish her pouting or fit or whatever by the time he joined her. By the time he was done with reminding her that he didn't marry a spiteful, mean-spirited woman, she was calm and at peace again. This is absolutely incredible."

  Elizabeth trembled slightly, her mind instantly picturing the scene generations earlier where a woman such as she, submitted to her husband's discipline.

  Logan felt her trembling and hugged her tighter. "Hey, Liebchen, are you okay?" he asked, his hand reaching behind to stroke her back. She snuggled into him and nodded against his chest.

  "I'm fine, just have a very vivid imagination," she confessed, and then giggled. "I can see your great-granny out here, stomping her foot in her buttoned-up boots and arguing when told to go out to the pouting house. I can see her scrawling the word 'pouty' on that board. I can see her climb on that stool, the board around her neck as she waits for him to come tend to her. I can imagine her being told to bend over the horse so her drawers could be pulled down."

  Logan laughed with her and then moved his hands to cup her bottom. She moaned and went up on her toes when he gave her cheeks a squeeze. "I'm imagining someone far younger," he said, bending to speak into her ear. "I'm imagining a raven-haired beauty. I can see her quite clearly." She felt a rush of heat race through
her as he nibbled on her earlobe. Her nipples puckered tightly under her bathing suit, her stomach fluttering with her growing arousal as his fingers stroked across the seat of her shorts.

  "What … what is she doing?" she whispered, moaning as he bent to lick and then nibble at her other earlobe.

  "Hmmm, let's see," he whispered, his hands moving from the back of her shorts to the front. She felt her knees shake a bit as he slowly unbuttoned her shorts and then pulled the zipper down. "She was sent to the woodshed so she knows what's coming. She is taking off her calico skirt and handing it to her Master," he said and stepped back a bit. Elizabeth shuddered again but found herself lowering her shorts, stepping out of them and handing them to him. "She is taking off her homespun blouse as well." Her shirt soon joined her shorts in his hand. She stood before him in her red tankini swim suit, her nipples hard and evident where they were pressing against the top. Logan felt his cock stiffen even more inside his own suit. God, he loved this woman and the games she played with him.

  "I see my little beauty regretting that she was disrespectful to her Master. I see her beginning to quiver, all the poutiness gone from her as she realizes that she must pay for her brattiness," Logan said, knowing his words were going straight through her core. "Tell me, Schatzlein, what does that little girl need to remind her not to scoff at her Master's orders, especially when they pertain to her safety?" Elizabeth's eyes widened and she thought that maybe the game they had started had a bigger purpose. She instantly regretted rolling her eyes and putting her hands on the ladder in the barn. "I asked you a question, Elizabeth."

  She swallowed hard. "They … they need to be punished, Sir," she said softly, her hands fluttering at her sides, her body preparing itself for the conclusion of the game.

  "That's right, little girl. They need to be punished because their lover is only trying to keep them safe. They need to be reminded that they are to not only pay attention without rolling their eyes in disrespect, they need to remember the rules are made because they are cherished and their safety is of vital importance to the people that love them." His words made her feel even guiltier, and she nodded, her eyes lowering to look at her sneakers.

  "Yes, Sir, please … please punish me, Sir," she said softly. Logan nodded, pushing away from where he had been leaning against the stone well. He took her hand and led her back into the front room. He led her to the corner where the stool sat. She watched as he lifted the board and held it in one hand, offering her the chalk with his other hand.

  "Confess your misdeed," he ordered, attempting not to laugh. Elizabeth flushed but took the chalk, managing to print her words before the chalk totally disintegrated between her fingers. Logan nodded and turned to hang the board back on its nail. "Good girl. I agree," Logan said as they both read the words 'Safety 1st' that she had printed. "I'm not going to trust that stool's stability," he said, and when she nodded vigorously, he chuckled. "Well, not until we get it checked out, that is." She shook her head but he had seen her smile. He led her back into the middle of the room. Though there was a layer of dust on everything, the windows had remained closed and unbroken, the outside door shut. He looked around the room and then tugged off his t-shirt and spread it across the oak barrel. He guided her to lie over the barrel and she squealed as it rolled forward a bit. Logan grinned as he looked at the floor and saw that the barrel sat in a slight depression between two rails. It would have the freedom to roll forwards and back just a few inches but not any further. He had never seen such a layout before but his mind was already considering adding this to a room at Tastsinn's.

  Stepping closer, he put his hands on the waistband of her suit bottoms, slowing working the tight fabric down over her rounded bottom-cheeks. Elizabeth moaned and shivered at the naughty feeling of being bared in this old building. Logan grinned, pulling her suit down and then completely off, setting it on top of her clothing he had laid on the floor. He stepped between her legs, which she had spread slightly, her toes barely able to reach the floor. He saw the evidence of her arousal glistening on her inner thighs.

  "Now that I've taken off your drawers, let's continue, shall we?" he asked rhetorically, not expecting an answer. "I see PawPaw looking at the chalkboard, reading the confession, and deciding what implement to apply to that poor naked bottom presented so beautifully over the barrel."

  Elizabeth had closed her eyes but at his words opened them again, her gaze going to the board on the wall before moving to watch him walking to the wall where several implements hung. She silently prayed he wouldn't want to make this a real lesson and wouldn't choose one of the many leather straps, as her bottom was still very tender from last night's whipping. She saw him look back at her, his grin and his lifted eyebrow causing her stomach to clench as he lifted a horrid looking thick strap off its hook. She wasn't even aware of the keening sound she made. He shook his head and replaced the strap. She shuddered and sighed, thanking the Gods that he wasn't going to use that on her. Logan took several minutes before he finally selected a wooden paddle from its hook. It was dusty on the side that faced the room, but pretty clean where the back surface had rested against the wall. He twirled it in his hand, nodded, and returned to her.

  Logan knew that his fiancé loved spankings. In fact, she would become aroused just thinking about getting a spanking—unless of course it was one of his punishment spankings. He had no intention of punishing her; he was playing, but she didn't need to know that just yet.

  He grinned as he bent over her to speak in her ear. "I see PawPaw rubbing this paddle all over Great-Granny's rear to let her know what is going to be happening to her naughty bottom." He demonstrated what he envisioned by taking several minutes to simply run the smooth wood all across Elizabeth's naked bottom, until he saw her actually lift her bottom towards the paddle. He knew she was ready. The first smack cracked against her skin and she yelped as the force pushed the barrel forward. She gave a short scream, her hands scrambling for a firmer hold on the leather loops attached to the metal bands of the barrel as she felt her feet actually leave the floor until the barrel rolled back again. Logan smiled broadly as he both listened to her squeals and watched her try to regain her balance. It took several more swats before she seemed to find that balance, allowing the barrel to just take her, once she was certain that it wasn't going to simply keep moving forward and dump her headfirst onto the floor. After a dozen swats, her bottom was a beautiful pink, but nothing like it would be if this were more than play.

  He rubbed her with the paddle again, leaning down and speaking softly. "Tell me, naughty girl, what do you see PawPaw doing next?"

  She moaned, the heat in her bottom having transferred to her sex, her cream dripping down her thighs. "I see PawPaw wanting to prove to Granny that she is forgiven, that he loves her very, very much, even when he's had to paddle her," she whispered. The paddle lifted to give her another half-dozen swats causing her to moan and tears to finally appear. She was in Submissive heaven—her Dom, the man she loved, slowly building a fire in her bottom that drove her insane with lust.

  "How would PawPaw show his forgiveness, Schatzlein?" he asked, the paddle once more rubbing over her heated skin.

  "He … he would make love to her, Sir," Elizabeth said as her sex began to pulse with her growing need. Logan smiled, dropped the paddle, and soon had his jeans and swimming trunks on the floor next to her own clothing. He stepped closer, using his hands to guide her legs further apart. She could no longer reach the floor at all.

  "No, I don't think so," he said, leaning over her again, his lips at her ear, his hard cock pressed up against her thigh. "Do you really think PawPaw would make gentle sweet love to great-granny after putting her over this barrel and spanking her naughty bottom? Is that how he would show her she was forgiven?" Elizabeth could barely even make sense of his words; her entire being craved that which she could feel throbbing against her pussy but not yet inside. Logan ran his tongue along her neck before lifting his mouth from her. "Now, try again, Eliz
abeth. How would he show her that he loved her enough to blister her ass in order to keep her safe."

  "He'd … he'd fu … fuck her. He'd fuck her really hard," she managed, her legs spreading even further, her bottom pushing out against him, lifting as if begging to be fucked.

  "Good girl. I think you are absolutely right," he said, a second before he drove into her. Elizabeth arched and gave a short scream as he entered her, filling her completely before the force drove the barrel forward, the motion exposing most of his cock from her pussy. Logan soon found his rhythm, allowing the barrel's motion to guide his thrusts. When it rolled back, he would sink deep into her, hold a moment, then thrust his hips forward, filling her and letting the barrel roll forward again. Within minutes, she was begging him to take her harder, faster, her hands clutching the leather loops—her only means of stability. It was an incredible sensation as he continued to fuck her—her body rolling forward to almost unseat him, only to roll back again and bury him once more. When he felt his climax approaching, he put his hands flat on the barrel to hold it steady and pistoned his hips, driving hard into her. She was soon screaming from the climax that exploded through every nerve ending in her body even as her contractions drew his own climax from him. He roared as he thrust again and again until every drop had emptied from his balls into her.

  He collapsed across her body, pinning her beneath him, her skin glistening from perspiration. "Does great-granny feel forgiven and loved?" he teased as he caught his breath, stood back, and lifted her from the barrel.

  She stood clinging to him until she felt balanced again and then lifted her eyes to his. "Yes, PawPaw, great-granny is one very lucky and satisfied lady." He laughed loudly, swatted her naked bottom, and then helped her to dress.

  As he tucked the key into his pocket, he grinned. "Haven Note: Go see Harry and take these straps and paddles to him for cleaning and oiling, and buy additional floggers for these walls." She smiled and nodded. "So, Sir, we'll keep this building?"