Breaking Little Emily (Dark Age Play Romance) (My Little World Book 4)

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Breaking Little Emily (Dark Age Play Romance) (My Little World Book 4) Page 11

by Becca Little

“I know! I’m sorry!” I squealed as he resumed going back and forth across my bottom.

  “Your poor mother has been worried sick that you had some disease, or I was an impotent husband who couldn’t satisfy your needs.” He growled as he yanked me by the hair, turning my face to his. “Do you know how humiliating that is?”

  “Yes sir, I’m so sorry…” He let my hair go and continued to paddle me.

  “You’re going to be sorry alright.” He gripped me by the ribs and really started to drive his point home.

  My lies were not malicious, but I realized they were harmful none the less. I never intended for any of it to blow back on Stephen, I just didn’t want to deal with the impact of my mother finding out I wasn’t actively working on her future grandchild, and purposefully avoiding it with birth control. I should have known better. It was all she talked about at family functions, but never directly in front of Stephen. She had to really be worried if she went to him. Now she knew the truth and that reality probably shattered the thin fragment of sanity she had left. As much as I worried about that, I had to worry more about my bottom which was celebrating a second anniversary over Stephen’s knee while we celebrated our third together. The paddle quickly bounced from one side of my bottom to the other, sending currents of agony through me. He was the kindest, gentlest man I had ever known, but he truly was a dominant man who wanted me to be a good, submissive wife. My hand started to wander and he caught it before it could ever get to the point of protecting me. He held the hand aloft, keeping it out of the way while he continued to paddle me. I felt helpless and there was nothing I could do to turn that around. I had felt my breaking point once, and even though the anguish washed over me like an ocean of torment, I knew I wasn’t there yet. There was still suffering for me to endure. The tears were already there; they fogged my vision as I whimpered and squalled.

  “Are you going to lie again?” He asked, continuing to make the paddle crack against my bare flesh.

  “No sir, never again, I swear!” I was sure the lesson was learned, but he didn’t seem convinced. He simply gave me an audible scoff and paddled me even harder.

  A sob erupted from my throat. The tears came like waterfalls pouring straight from my soul. I lost focus of everything except for the torrent of pain I was experiencing. My eardrums beat the cracking sound of the paddle on my bare flesh like a snare drum, and my howls filled the room. I knew I was wrong—I knew I was horrible—I just wanted to be forgiven. I wanted my husband to love me again or at least show me that he hadn’t lost it over my devious deception. For over three years he had held my heart, and for the three we had been married, he had been the only thing that mattered. I let the paddle and my tears wash it away, knowing that when I was done, I would be forgiven. I felt my breaking point coming. The paddle continued to pound my bottom relentlessly, pushing me closer and closer until it finally happened. My body went weak and I slumped over. The quilt that had been clutched in my free hand was released and the color slowly returned to my whitewashed knuckle. He continued to paddle me, letting me feel the breaking point extended until there was simply nothing left inside. I heard the paddle land on the nightstand and it took me a moment to realize I was no longer being paddled. My bottom radiated heat and the burning sensation was so bad it felt like I was still being paddled. I lay there without moving for a while until I finally pushed myself up slightly and he helped me the rest of the way. I clung tightly to him, still sobbing into his shoulder, just like the last time I was punished.

  “I’m sorry I’m such a horrible wife.” I said through my tears.

  “You’re not a horrible wife.” He whispered gently into my ear.

  “I just want to live up to your expectations…” There was melancholy in my words—I felt like a failure.

  “You do, and you always have. I understand that you will falter at times, but it is my duty as your husband to help you see the mistakes, and to help you overcome them.” He held me tightly, running his fingers through my hair, which had become soaked with my tears.

  “I don’t know if I can go to dinner…” I looked at my face in the mirror.

  “Yes you can. I’m going to shower, and when I’m done, you’re going to put yourself back together. You’re going to face the world as my wife, and walk by my side where you belong.” He gently placed me onto the bed.

  “Okay…” I wasn’t sure I could manage, but I was willing to try it for him.

  He undressed while I watched out of the corner of my eye. Even though I was still in agony, I couldn’t help but feel a tingle in my midsection that quickly spread between my legs as I watched him expose his muscular upper torso and toss his shirt into the laundry hamper. I loved everything about Stephen Crane, even the way he punished me. He was such a good man, a loving husband, and very old fashioned. Living every day as his wife was an honor, even if it was unconventional. I was always taken care of, and I never had to work. He had provided me with everything because he loved me and he wanted me. All he asked was that I be a good submissive wife who knew her place, and I had failed at that, despite my best intentions. I swore to myself that I would be better. He stripped off his pants and boxers, turning around to face me with his huge cock hanging loose between his legs. I wanted to spread my legs and beg for it, but I knew we were going to be running late for dinner because he had to take time to punish me. He gazed at me and I could tell he wanted me as bad as I wanted him. His cock slightly pulsated and I knew it was hungry for me. I hoped what I had done had not robbed me of the opportunity to have it before the end of the night, even if we couldn’t tear into each other at that moment. I was weak, and I would have hardly been a good lover, but I would have certainly tried. He finally spared me the debate in my head by walking into the bathroom and turning on the shower. I rolled over to the other side, grimacing as the sheets touched my punished bottom, just so I could see his naked for step into the shower. The door wasn’t clear, but it wasn’t opaque enough to completely hide the amazing form of the man I loved.

  “Soon, darling…” I let a smile cross my face.

  When he was done with his shower, he dried off outside of my direct vision, but the mirror on the bathroom wall gave me enough of a view to stay horny. The steam which accumulated on it wasn’t enough to keep him completely hidden. I pulled myself out of bed and removed my bra, which was the last thing I had on my body. He walked out of the bathroom and I grazed his cock with my hand, resulting in a hard smack on my bottom which caused me to howl and dance the rest of the way into the bathroom. Normally that would have been okay, but he knew how wrecked I was. I shot him an angry glare, but all he did was laugh at me. He started to dress as I turned on the shower, making sure it was a lot cooler than his was. I grabbed the tools I needed to remove my makeup and slid into what basically amounted to ice water was pouring from the faucet. I used it to cool my bottom and then turned up the heat so I could clean myself. It took me a little more time than usual to completely get it removed because it was caked with tears, but I finally did wipe my face clean. I turned off the shower and looked over to the bed where I saw him stroking his erection, staring at my naked body. I gave him a glare and started to dry myself off. I briefly considered slamming the door, but I knew it wasn’t my place to deny him the opportunity to look at my body. I just hoped he didn’t finish and saved it for me. I reconstructed my makeup, dried my hair, and walked out of the bathroom wearing my towel.

  “Where are we going for dinner, anyway?” I asked.

  “Fuck dinner…” He reached for my hand and pulled me towards him. “All I want right now is you.”

  “Won’t we be late?” I asked as I felt him hard against my leg.

  “Do you care?” He ran his fingers up my leg and squeezed it tightly.

  “No…” I said in a slight whisper. “I don’t care at all.”

  He pulled my leg over his hips and I felt the tip of his cock against my pussy. My punished bottom radiated almost as much heat as the sizzle between us. Th
ree years and we still wanted each other like the very first day. Dinner would have to wait, but I hardly cared. He slipped the head of his cock into the crevice of my pussy, directly against the clitoris. I sighed as I rolled forward, pressing both palms to his muscled abs, and lowering myself onto him slowly. He wasn’t in the mood for slow. He grabbed me tightly by the hips, four fingers on each hand digging into the punished flesh on my bottom, and snapped me down with force. My knees buckled and his cock went all the way in. I moaned at the shock of penetration and then started to adjust. He lifted and slammed me down, barely even giving me a chance to lift up before he yanked me down again. My pussy slammed into his pelvis, each impact stimulating my clitoris. He lifted his hips with every descent, so hard that I felt his balls wrap around and crash into my labia. I was completely at his mercy, but enjoying every second of it. He rarely let me ride him, instead preferring to be the one on top, but it didn’t seem to matter much. He was in control whether he was mounted between my legs or throwing me around on top like a rag doll. I was so consumed by pleasure that I couldn’t do anything but rise and fall against his motions.

  “You feel so good…” I said with a whimpering moan.

  “I’m going to fuck you like I own you.” He said with a grunt as he picked up the pace.

  “You do…” I said with another moan. “I belong to you.”

  “Damn right you do.” He brought his hand down on my bottom again.

  “Oww!” I said with a squeal. “That wasn’t very nice!”

  He didn’t respond, he just continued to drive his cock between my thighs. I tried to lift myself as often as I could, to push myself up even higher on his cock before he brought me down, but I only went as far as he allowed. Each time I slid down his shaft, he pulsated against my g-spot and sent waves of pleasure through my body. He finally started to tire a little, and I felt like I had some slight semblance of control. His hands remained on my hips, but they didn’t squeeze like they were before. I leaned back, bracing myself against his strong thighs with my fingers, and then started to ride his cock, pushing back and sliding forward each time. After a few long strokes, he started to run his fingers up my body, squeezing and touching me. He squeezed both nipples between his thumb and forefinger, rolling them as I rode him. My tired muscles, which were still exhausted from the paddling, started to slightly spasm, so I fell forward. I came down on his cock so hard that it nearly sent me straight into an orgasm. I balanced on his abdominal muscles with my palms once more, and started to slowly rise up. His body was starting to tighten and I knew it wasn’t going to be a marathon session. Sometimes he would fuck me for half the night before he blew his load, but his body language suggested he was getting close. My body was even closer, to the point that I had to slow myself in order to avoid it.

  “Don’t hold back.” He gripped my hips again, squeezing my bottom.

  “I…” I whimpered. “I want to cum with you…”

  “Then don’t hold back.” He said harshly and his body rolled forward. He was a lot closer than I thought.

  I let the fight slowly slip away. I was his to maneuver, his to control, and his to fuck. He lifted me up and started to bring his hips into mine like a hammer, capped off by the pulsating head of his cock which swelled against my tight vaginal wall. I could tell it was going to be a very explosive orgasm on my end. Perhaps the time I spent over his knee with the paddle teaching me a lesson had somehow added to the pleasure, or perhaps it was just the love I felt for him, but I was practically hypnotized by his touch. Had I not been so enthralled in our mutual passion, I would have felt paralyzed and unable to move as the orgasm gripped me from within. My pussy tightened on his cock and my clitoris tensed up, feeling the impact of his pelvis grinding on it with every thrust. Three more quick thrusts followed, and then he paused there, holding me tightly pressed against his groin. I felt his cum surge out and it set off a powerful orgasm inside of me. I nearly yelled his name, completely engulfed in the moment. I orgasmed as his cum filled my pussy, squeezing it with my tightness, trying to milk every drop from within in. After what seemed like an eternity with us locked in that moment, he finally started to release some of the tension and sink back into the bed. I fell with him, wrapped in his arms, but never separating from his cock. My mind spun with ecstasy, and I didn’t want to move from that moment as long as I lived.

  “We’re going to need to shower again…” He said with a sigh.

  “Are we going to do this again after we’re done?” I whispered into his ear.

  “Maybe after dinner…” He rubbed up and down my back and slowly slid his cock out of my pussy.

  “Fine… I guess I can wait.” I fell to the side as he rolled out of the bed and walked towards the shower again.

  We somehow managed to keep our hands off of each other long enough to get dressed and into the car. It was a long drive, but it was worth it when we pulled up to the restaurant. Dinner was very good, and exactly what my famished body needed by the time we got our table. He chose a restaurant I had wanted to try for quite a while. It was a French one with items on the menu I couldn’t read, but he ordered me something he knew I would like. I didn’t realize exactly how hungry I was until the first bite of pasta slipped down my throat. Unfortunately, I had a little too much wine because I was still high from our encounter and feeling the energy flowing. He didn’t judge me, and he helped me stumble to the car. The orgasm took more out of me than I realized, so I was worthless by the time we got home. Thankfully, he seemed to be fairly exhausted as well. He put me to bed and crawled in beside me, drawing himself close and letting the heat warm us as we drifted off to sleep. I once again woke up to find him gone as usual, but the bed was warm where he had been. I slipped on my robe before walking downstairs to find breakfast was ready for me. I poured myself some coffee and walked out onto the terrace where he sat with an empty plate, sipping his coffee and enjoying one of his cigars.

  “I’m sorry about last night. You wore me out.” I smiled as I took my seat.

  “The wine did a good job of putting the nightcap on you.” His cigar flared as he winked at me.

  “I suppose so.” I yawned and sipped my coffee again.

  “I hope you don’t think you are completely forgiven for the lying you have done.” He tapped the ashes off the tip and looked over at me.

  “What?” I felt a nauseating filling in my stomach and I suddenly didn’t want any breakfast.

  “You’ve lied to me and to your mother for years. Do you really think one paddling purges all of that dishonesty?” He tilted his head and his eyebrows tightened as they came together.

  “I mean…” I struggled to find words. “Maybe? I don’t know…”

  “After you finish with breakfast, we will begin the next part of your punishment.” He tapped out his cigar stood up. Without another word, he walked into the house, leaving me alone with my food and confusion.

  I couldn’t finish my food, but I finished my coffee before I walked into the house. My bottom ached with every step after the reminder of what happened the night before. I didn’t want another spanking or another paddling, but if it was what he required in order to purge me of my lies, then I was willing to pay that price—I had to. I loved my husband and I had acted so foolish by deceiving my mother and not believing it would ever blow back on him. It certainly was not my intention, but my actions had backfired. I didn’t find him in the living room, so I walked upstairs. Our bedroom was empty, and as I turned to look around, I saw that a door was open. I walked towards it in caution. The room was a guest room, sparsely decorated with enough furniture to comfortably accommodate anyone who spent the night. When I pushed the door open, my eyes got wide. The room had been converted to a nursery. I wracked my brain, trying to figure out how it had been done when I was home all day. I hadn’t been in the room in months, but I was certain I would have known if someone was changing everything out. I looked around at the pink paint, stuffed animals, and crib in the middle. My eyes wer
e drawn to the letters hanging over it. They were fancy and connected with string and they spelled out J-U-L-I-E. I felt my lip wrinkle and confusion as he walked out from the bathroom which connected the room to the one beside it.

  “Stephen, what is this?” I looked at him and shook my head in a questioning manner.

  “This is your new home. Your lies have brought this on you. For the next twelve months, until our fourth anniversary, you will be regressed. You are no longer Julie Crane, my wife—you are now my little girl.” He pulled another cigar out and lit it as I looked on in confusion.

  “Your little girl? I don’t understand…” I looked around the room again. “Where did all of this stuff come from?”

  “I had it brought here while we were out for dinner last night. Your lies have proved to me that you cannot be a good, submissive wife without proper training. I’m going to rebuild you into what you are failing to become. This journey will not always be pleasant, but it is necessary.” He puffed his cigar a few times and then removed his from his mouth.

  “I know I made mistakes, but I really don’t think this is necessary. I made a mistake, but that doesn’t mean I need to start over. I don’t need a regression, and I certainly don’t need to be treated like a child…” I picked up a stuffed animal and threw it on the floor. “I’m not a child…”

  “You act like one.” He walked to the door and pulled a key from his pocket. “I’m going to leave you here for a little while to think about this. I’ll be back in a few hours and you can let me know what you have decided.”

  He walked out the door and clicked the lock, sealing me inside the strange room. I immediately ran to the door and tried the knob, only to find he had a new lock installed that could not be opened without a key. Frustrated with my captivity, I walked around the room and looked at everything. In the middle was a large crib, one big enough for me to use as a bed. I had no idea how he managed to get all of the things in the room so quickly. After a little more investigation, it dawned on me that he must have been planning this for a while. There was no way he had it all created after he found out about my lies. It had to be building for a while and the lies were just the tipping point. I wondered if he had created it a year prior when he first spanked me and waited for me to mess up again before he had it brought into the house. I really didn’t think I deserved what he had planned, but I realized accepting it was another test of my submission. He had made the decision as the head of the household, and if I bucked that decision, then I was not fulfilling the role I had sworn to uphold. It was a true catch twenty-two situation which had become a test of my ability to buckle before him and accept my punishment. The silence of the room was my tomb, and it would be a tomb for a year. Julie Crane was being cast aside and put away. For a year, I would live my life as his little girl, and I hoped that if I showed him I could be the good, submissive wife he wanted, I could walk by his side once again. It wasn’t long until I heard the key turn in the lock and I realized an hour had passed.

 

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