Once in the attic, she stripped off her clothes and folded them, setting them on top of one of the boxes. She laid the belt on the chair and chose a corner, touching her nose to it and clasping opposite elbows behind her back so her bottom would be displayed for him once he came up.
Michael’s dominant nature surprised her. No, that wasn’t it. He was dominant in every way, but the fact that he took on his new role with such zeal was what surprised her. There would be pain tonight; she wasn’t fool enough not to believe that. But she also believed there would be pleasure afterwards. Riding that fine line between the two opposites thrilled her, her submission itself almost better than the orgasm.
It was a good twenty minutes before she finally heard his step on the landing, and when she did her entire being shook with anticipation.
“Good choice,” he said, and she knew he must be looking at the belt.
She didn’t dare turn around until he called her to him after a few moments. He stood in front of the single chair that sat in the middle of the room on top of the rug. She made her way over to him.
He was shirtless and barefoot and she couldn’t help but look at the wide span of his shoulders, his powerful, muscular arms. “Bend over and put your hands on the seat of the chair,” he said. He wasn’t yet holding the belt.
She turned and did as he said, knowing to keep her legs wide as she supported her weight on her hands, looking straight down at the doubled-over belt. It wasn’t a moment before his fingers were massaging a cool cream over her anus.
“This plug is a little bigger than the last one,” he said, his voice coming out a little hoarse as his finger penetrated her tight ring. “I want it in your ass when I whip you.”
She made a sound, unable to manage words, taking in the not-unpleasant sensations.
“Good girl, that’s it,” he encouraged as he pulled his fingers out and began to insert the plug. With that she struggled a bit; he wasn’t kidding that it was bigger and thicker. Michael pressed it in and pulled it out, patient and slow, waiting for her to open and accept it. “You can take it, Soph, come on, open. Reach your hips back. That’s it. Push against it. Almost there.”
She made another sound as the thickest part penetrated and the plug was finally seated firmly inside her.
“You can straighten up,” Michael said. He went to wash his hands in the corner sink.
Sophie tightened her muscles around the plug, which was heavier than she’d anticipated. Michael returned with a pair of leather cuffs.
“Hold out your hands,” he said.
“You don’t have to bind…” she began.
“How many additional strokes do you think you deserve for speaking when you did not have permission to speak?”
She stared at him. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she said quickly. “I just…”
“Ten more, then. Another word and we’ll make it twenty on top of what you’re already going to get.”
She stared at him, her mouth open, but luckily too smart to keep talking.
“Hold your hands out,” he said.
She extended them to him and he bound them in front of her before sitting down on the chair. “Lay yourself across my lap,” he said.
Sophie took a step to his side and held on to his thigh as she leaned forward, then put her hands to the floor. Once she was situated, he trapped both her legs between his and pulled her tight to him. She then felt the weight of the belt as he laid it over her low back.
“I like you like this,” he said, his hand circling her buttocks, then pressing on the base of the plug before dipping down into her pussy. “You’re wet, Soph, even for your punishment you’re wet. But pain before pleasure and this is going to hurt. Are you ready?”
“I don’t know, Sir,” she said, her voice wavering.
He chuckled and slapped her ass once, then caressed softly before repeating the motion on the other cheek. The caress was just momentary and only heightened her anxiety as she knew the strike that followed would be sharp and quick.
“Ow,” she said, already squirming.
“Oh, honey,” he said and she could hear the smile in his voice, “this is nothing compared to what’s coming.”
He slapped harder and she struggled against each one, but with her hands bound as they were and her legs trapped between his, it was useless. When he picked up the belt, however, she shoved her full weight against him, trying to get free, panic overriding everything else.
Michael pulled her to him, holding her tight by her waist. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay, Soph. It’s me. You can take this; you’ll feel better for it.”
“Easy for you to say,” she cried.
“Do you want to stop?” he asked, surprising her.
She turned her head to meet his eyes. “No.”
Her eyes, which had been dry until then, suddenly filled with tears that overflowed onto the carpet beneath her. “I don’t want you to stop. I’m just scared. I think I made a mistake. I think I should have chosen a different belt,” she cried.
He laughed out loud, but it wasn’t cruel. In fact, as he did it, he hugged her to him, rubbing her back. “Baby,” he began, “you think I’d have let you get away with that?” he asked. He was massaging her low back.
That was the moment she understood that he wouldn’t have let her off the hook.
Goose bumps covered the flesh over her entire body as this realization settled upon her. She exhaled and closed her eyes, relishing the release, the knowledge that she was safe here in his arms and that she could lean on him, that he would carry her. That he could carry her.
“No, Sir,” she said. And as much as she knew how much this would hurt, she also knew in that moment that he would be there with her, he would not let her go even as he would be the one giving her the pain, the punishment.
Sophie exhaled.
“That’s it,” he said, holding her for a while as her body softened into his as if he knew what she was now, in this moment, understanding. “Good girl. Now breathe with the strokes, baby. I love you,” he said just as the first stroke of the belt hit her bottom.
* * *
Michael listened to her gasp when the first lash of the belt made contact with her buttocks.
The softness was gone, her torso bolting upright as she called out and began her struggle anew. But he held her tight to him and raised the belt, bringing it down again. The sound filled the attic, bounced off the walls, came in time with her gasps and filled his ears. Her buttocks quivered and tightened in anticipation and she wiggled her hips this way and that trying to avoid the blows. Trapped as he had her though, her wrists bound in front of her, her legs between his, he could manage her, hold onto her as long as he wanted to.
“Please, please, please,” she begged when he continued. He placed most of the strokes on her buttocks, but struck her upper thighs a few times as well. Each time he did, she’d wail against him. It would have been better to have her bent over the bed, he’d have better access to all of her, but she wasn’t ready to hold still yet—that would take some training. Holding her like this though, hugging her to him as he punished her, to feel her body against his, her warmth against his warmth, to give her some comfort as he simultaneously gave her pain, was what he wanted tonight and what they both needed as they began on this new road in their marriage.
She was weeping, her sobs loud as she tired and her struggles to get out of the way of the leather weakened.
“Shh,” he coaxed as he struck, “you’re doing well. We’re almost there, baby.”
Michael’s cock pressed against her soft belly. He wanted to keep going, but he also wanted to give her a break and a small reward for being so good, for trusting him.
“Just a few more like this and you’ll get a break, baby,” he said.
It was another dozen on her already reddened, trembling buttocks before he stopped. All the while, he watched the plump flesh bounce as it took its punishment.
&nbs
p; “There,” he said, dropping the belt down and hoisting her up as he stood, holding her tight to him, her bound hands on his belly and his chest as she wept in his arms.
“Is it over?” she finally managed. “It hurts so much.”
Michael looked down at her and kissed her softly on her forehead. “Not over, but we’ll take a break,” he said, and, without giving her a moment to react, he lifted her arms up and hooked the cuffs over the pin he’d set in the beam overhead for just this. She wasn’t quite tall enough to stand flat so she ended up on the balls of her feet, but he’d support her weight in a few minutes. She’d only feel the discomfort when her whipping continued.
Sophie looked up at her hands as Michael moved the chair out of the way and knelt before her. Heat radiated from her bottom and she sucked in a breath when he gripped her ass and hoisted one of her legs over his shoulders, burying his face in her pussy, his mouth taking in her clit as his hand played with the plug in her ass.
She began to tremble almost instantly, making those noises he loved so much as he sucked her clit and tongued her pussy. She called out his name when she came, her pussy dripping over his mouth and his chin. He loved every moment of it, the feel of her burning ass in his palms, her convulsions as she climaxed, her begging him, pleading with him to stop, that it was too much sensation.
Michael released her and straightened to his full height. Although she was stretched longer, she still had to look up at him and when he brought his mouth to hers, she opened eagerly, hungrily sucking on his tongue, kissing his lips.
When he released her from the kiss, she hung almost limp. But when he retrieved the belt, she perked up again, her eyes wide.
“No more. Please, Sir. Please. I’m sorry,” she begged. “Please don’t start again.”
“I promised you ten more, Sophie.”
“I’ll take them tomorrow. I’ll take twenty tomorrow. Just please not now. No more now.”
He studied her for a few moments, struggling a little internally, so completely aroused by the power he had over her and yet his heart softening at her face, her sweet pleading eyes. He wrapped the belt around her waist and buckled it as far as he could, but it still hung low on her hips.
“Thank you, Sir,” she said, her relief physically apparent as her body relaxed. “Thank you.”
“You’re off the hook for those ten,” he said as he watched her face.
She leaned her head into his shoulder, resting it there for a moment, then bringing her mouth to his ear and kissing his earlobe before taking it between her teeth. “Fuck me,” she begged. “I want to feel you inside me.”
Michael grinned and he caressed her face, making her look at him. “Dirty talk from my wife?” he teased. “My little Sophie?”
She nodded. “Fuck me, please,” she repeated, encouraged by his praise.
“With pleasure,” he said, his cock hard as the steel plug inside her. He moved to take position behind her and pushed his pants down and off, his cock bobbing free. With both hands he spread her cheeks apart, pressing once on the plug. Although he felt her flinch with the pain of her now sore bottom, he didn’t soften his hold. He dipped into her pussy slowly, the passage slick, dripping even as it opened to take his cock. She moaned with pleasure, trying to thrust her hips back, but he held her tight. Once he was fully seated, he held her to him by her hips, not moving, just relishing the scent of her, the heat and feel of her.
“Fuck me,” she begged, pressing her hips against him again.
The fingers of one hand reached for her clit and he rubbed as he held her to him, withdrawing his cock and thrusting in hard. She called out as her orgasm shook her, forcing her muscles to clamp down around his cock. He fucked harder after her first climax and drew two more orgasms from her, never releasing his punishing hold on her ultra-sensitized clit, supporting her weight as she hung by her arms, calling out his name over and over again until he finally stilled, pressed deep into her, trembling with his climax.
* * *
Michael couldn’t sleep. Instead, he watched Sophie who was lying on her side, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other just touching him. She always did that. Some part of her always touched him while she slept. He’d always loved that gesture, that little sign of trust, of wanting to be connected even in sleep.
She’d nearly fallen asleep as he’d bathed her. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally. He softly ran the back of his hand over her cheek, but when she made a small noise and turned to lie on her belly, he let her be. Curious, he pulled the covers down until her hips were bared. He looked at her, her small, naked body making the tiniest of movements as she breathed in and out. He looked at the bruises that were forming on her buttocks and swallowed. He touched one lightly and she clenched her buttocks even in sleep. He pulled his hand away.
It was almost one in the morning. He climbed out of the bed, pulled on a pair of jeans and t-shirt, went downstairs and out the door. He called Kyan on his way out.
It took him no time to get to the club and once he’d parked, he went up the stairs to the front door. John, the security guard who had been there that first day he had come to the club, was in his place at the door. Michael looked at him for a moment, then nodded his greeting. The guard nodded back and Michael went inside.
“I have an appointment with Kyan,” he said to the girl there. “Tell him Michael Perron is here.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, picking up her phone. It was just a moment before she hung up. “You can go in,” she said, gesturing to the door behind the desk.
“Thank you.”
“Michael,” Kyan said, standing when he walked in.
“Sorry to have called in the middle of the night,” Michael apologized.
“No problem, I’m here until the club closes. Have a seat,” Kyan said, obviously reading the worry in Michael’s face. “Would you like something to drink?”
Michael shook his head. “No, nothing, thanks.”
Kyan nodded and sat back down. “Has something happened?”
Michael suddenly had no idea where to begin. “I don’t know. No, nothing’s happened, it’s just, to be honest, I don’t understand this. I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”
“Go on.”
“When I first found out about this, I thought okay, I’d try it. My wife wants this so I’ll do it for her, try to give her what she needs. But what’s got me confused is how I’ve reacted.” He shook his head once, absorbed in his thoughts before facing Kyan again. “Kyan, I liked it. I like it. I like spanking her. I like seeing her stand with her nose in the corner. I like telling her what to do and her doing it. I used my belt on her tonight, it was to punish her. Christ, the sex afterwards was unbelievable. Then later, when she was sleeping, I pulled the covers off her and saw what I’d done. Saw the bruises that were forming on her ass. She begged me to stop, to not deliver the last ten I’d promised, even offering to take twenty tomorrow. I did stop, somehow. And I’m so glad I did after seeing the bruising. But in that moment, when I held the belt and she was bound and at my mercy, there was a moment I wasn’t sure I could stop.”
Kyan listened, nodding his head once. The room fell silent as he got up to pour two glasses of whiskey. He handed Michael one, who took it without a thought and brought it straight to his mouth. He drank down the contents while Kyan sipped.
“Have you two discussed a safeword?” Kyan asked.
Michael nodded. “Yes, we have one.”
“Does Sophie know she won’t be punished for using it?”
“Of course.”
“Did she use her safeword tonight?”
“No.”
“And when she asked you to have mercy and not to deliver the last strokes you’d promised, you did,” Kyan said.
Michael nodded.
“To set your mind at ease, I might not have,” Kyan said. “In fact, I can’t see myself not delivering what I’ve promised and Julia expects that fro
m me. Remember, Michael, even if there is consent, it doesn’t mean the punishment doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t mean she won’t beg you to stop. Her pleading and your denial of her request may even be part of the draw for her. Perhaps I’m making an assumption though. Was there consent?”
Michael looked at him and rubbed his hand over his face. “Yes, of course. I told her I was going to punish her for running off like she had without talking to me. I asked her consent and she gave it. We had had a fight. Not to make this a long story, but we both want a family and Sophie hasn’t been able to get pregnant and keep a child to term. She’s got some guilt over this and… crap. Today was just too much for her. We had a fight, but at the end of it, I think I understood something. I got it. Or at least I thought I did.”
“Go on.”
“I think she needed me to punish her and she wouldn’t have been able to ask for it. Maybe she didn’t know how? I don’t know. I told her we were changing the way we were doing things. She’s young. She’s relied on my guidance since we’ve been together in every way. I think this is part of what she wants, but maybe doesn’t understand it herself? I don’t know.”
“Did you discuss these details with her?”
Michael shook his head.
“Did she understand she was being punished?”
“Yes, I told her clearly. And before I started with the belt, I asked her if she wanted to stop. If she wanted to use her safeword.”
“And what did she say?”
“No. That she was just scared she’d chosen the wrong belt.”
Kyan smiled.
“She was bruised,” Michael continued.
“And most likely you can expect more bruises. Some of us look on those with affection,” Kyan said, smiling while taking a sip of his whiskey. “Julia and I have been at this for a while. Our relationship roles are clearly defined and even so, we still rely on open communication, honesty, and mutual trust. She trusts that I know how far to take her and that should she use her safeword, everything stops without repercussions. I trust that should she need to, should I have misjudged or miscalculated and I’m truly hurting her in a way she doesn’t want to be hurt, that she’ll use her safeword. All of this is different for every person, every couple, and none of it is wrong as long as there is consent and it sounds like you asked more than once and that she did consent. She was frightened of the pain she’d feel, a natural reaction, but she didn’t want to stop.”
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