by Emily Tilton
“Gentlemen?” the president asked. “What’s this about?”
Looking into Burton’s face, which had darkened again in his anger, Luke wondered if an apology was going to do the trick.
“Mr. President—”
But the man interrupted him again, without raising his voice but with a decision that obviously came of being used to command. Burton’s rage seemed well in check, but Luke suddenly felt he would rather it weren’t, so that he might make a mistake.
“Doctor, I think you should remain silent for a moment. I believe that a man who has grossly insulted another man’s wife owes him that.”
Luke shot a hasty glance at the president and saw John Wanamaker’s eyebrows go up.
The commander turned to the chief executive. “Mr. President, I was required by law to file a report about my honeymoon with my new wife. This report was required—by law—to be explicit. I put things in the report about the honeymoon that I would never have said in polite company about anyone, let alone about my sweet young wife, who I believe has fully paid for her infractions, and who has learned hard lessons about modesty and obedience over the past three months, but has learned them very well, as you can see here tonight. Dr. Fredrickson saw fit to…”
Now the commander did seem on the verge of losing the icy edge to his wrath, just for a moment. He contained the fire, though, and the control he exhibited made Luke quail, mentally, before him. Again he flicked his eyes to the president, and saw that a grave expression had come onto Wanamaker’s face.
Burton continued, “He saw fit to ask Mrs. Burton about explicit details of that report. If I were to tell you what those details were, Mr. President, I think you would understand immediately why I feel I must ask Dr. Fredrickson to recuse himself from my wife’s case, and why I feel I must take Mrs. Burton home immediately.”
“Come now, commander,” Luke said a little desperately. He thought perhaps he could see in the president’s eyes something of a hunger for the salacious details of the honeymoon that Luke had—foolishly, he could now admit—brought up here at the White House. “It can’t be—”
But at that point Melanie Wanamaker, Lily’s hand still gripped in her own, came back across the room toward the men. She didn’t storm, exactly, but Luke thought a thundercloud over her head might have done her facial expression justice.
“John,” demanded the first lady. “Did Commander Burton tell you what this… this man said?” She gave Luke a contemptuous look that made his blood run cold.
“Well, no,” replied the president, “not exactly. The commander says it’s not fit to be told in polite company.”
Frowning, Burton turned to Lily. “Lily? What did you tell Mrs. Wanamaker?”
Lily swallowed hard. She gave her husband a look that turned the ice in Luke’s veins to fire, because that look represented everything Luke wanted but could, thanks simply to his over-intellectualizing nature, never have. Lily looked at her officer with simple submission and love, and with fear of discipline she knew she deserved and needed.
“She told me everything, commander,” the first lady affirmed, since Lily seemed unable to speak.
Burton’s displeasure focused now on his wife, but that displeasure was so different from his wrath at Luke that the tension in the air seemed to lessen. “Lily,” he said, “we’ll talk about this when we get home. You’re in trouble.”
“Yes, sir,” Lily said. Her brow puckered, and her mouth turned down into a pout.
The commander turned back to the president. “I’ve said what I need to say, Mr. President. I’m sorry to have to go, but I hope I’ve explained.”
The president nodded. He seemed rather puzzled, Luke thought, by the sheer will Commander Eric Burton seemed to embody. “That’s alright, commander,” he said. “Melanie and I would like to have you down to the summer residence in a few weeks, anyway. We can discuss a new job for you then, if you’re willing.”
Luke felt resentment rise in his chest at the notion that, it seemed, this man would win advancement through Luke’s skill in matching him with Lily, but the look the president fixed on him as the Burtons said goodbye to the first lady made him think it was his own advancement about which he should worry right now. His last sight of the commander and his wife’s receding figures, the officer’s arm lovingly and protectively around her waist despite what Luke supposed must be a spanking coming to her bare bottom when they got home, pierced his heart with envy.
As he turned to find someone else, anyone else to talk to, since the president and the first lady had simply walked away—perhaps even to find someone who could effectively ruin Luke’s career for what had just happened—Luke thought, Well, at least I’m responsible for the Burtons’ happiness. Perhaps it wouldn’t redeem him in any eyes but his own, but one had to reason through these things and take a philosophical approach.
Epilogue
“Will you use the belt, sir?” Lily asked in the car on their way home. “Please, not the belt.”
Eric didn’t say anything for long moments, but looked out the windshield as the car guided itself toward the little suburban home where Lily had found so much happiness over the past few months that it astonished her to think about it. She had her own little office, and a brand new desktop workstation that compiled code at least twice as fast as her old one. Eric let her work in there for three hours at a time, in the morning and in the afternoon, as long as she remembered to come up for air and make lunch and dinner.
He regarded a few of the traditional feminine household chores to be his wife’s responsibility. Cooking and laundry represented the most important ones, though both these things, on fifth millennium Meliora, required perhaps ten percent of the time housewives even of second millennium Earth had to devote to them, if that. Eric did the dishes, and flipped the switch that activated the housecleaning robot.
Lily had earned one over-the-knee spanking for forgetting about dinner, two weeks after they returned.
“I regard this as a reminder, honey,” Eric had said when he had flipped up her skirt and pulled down her panties, and then he’d spanked her much harder, Lily thought, than a reminder warranted. He’d held her firmly around her waist and trapped her legs between his own to render her bottom still. Then he’d brought his hand down hard, over and over, alternating between her cheeks though every swat from his big hand covered nearly her whole bottom, until Lily, squirming and struggling uncontrollably despite—or maybe even because of—how firmly Eric held her, had cried out at every spank.
Then he’d stopped, and let Lily sob out her shame and discomfort, bare bottom up, for a long time, as he’d rubbed her there, though without any of the downward and inward movements she found herself craving so much, ever since he’d taught her on their honeymoon what he could do with his skillful fingers when she showed herself worthy of pleasure.
Finally he’d asked, “Do you think you’ll forget again?” and Lily had said, “No, sir.”
Nor had she.
Now, in the car, though, Lily felt terribly adrift. She had known, as she talked to the first lady, that Eric wouldn’t approve of the way all the details had come tumbling out of her mouth, but…
She looked over at him, and she saw that it was worse than she had supposed.
“No, not the belt,” he said.
Lily breathed a sigh of relief. Just another over-the-knee spanking. But… why did she feel it wasn’t enough?
Then Eric spoke again, looking over for just a moment, “I have to plug you and spank your pussy, Lily. Sharing that kind of private thing is a very serious act of disobedience, and you need to learn a real lesson tonight.”
Lily’s blood ran cold, and then all the heat in the universe seemed to concentrate in her face as tears sprang to her eyes. “No, sir… please, no… please, Eric—sir,” she wailed. She clutched his arm. “Sir, I had to tell her, didn’t I? She’s the… the first lady!” Lily’s teeth had started to chatter in fear. She remembered the fascination she had felt w
hen he had told her about this terrible punishment, and she couldn’t believe she had wondered what it would feel like. “Please, just the belt, sir?” Suddenly a belt whipping didn’t seem so bad after all.
“It’s important to me that you understand what happens to girls who speak inappropriately that way. Your pussy and your anus are the right places for your punishment, because what you told Mrs. Wanamaker was all about the private things I do with your pussy and your anus.”
“Yes, sir,” Lily said miserably, suddenly wishing that the one mile they still had to drive might turn into ten, or a hundred.
“When we get home, go to the bedroom and get undressed, then put your nightgown on with nothing under it. Lie on the bed, and raise your knees and spread them like you would for sex. I’ll come in and punish you after I lock up.”
* * *
The plug was big and black, with terrible ridges and a flared base.
“The base keeps it from going inside your anus all the way,” Eric said gravely, as she looked up at him. He applied lube to it as he spoke—the same lube he used when he fucked her bottom. Lily still didn’t enjoy anal sex very much, but she liked knowing that Eric got so much pleasure from having his cock inside her bottom, as uncomfortable as it continued to be for Lily. Now she had to have not her husband’s penis but this horrible disciplinary implement up there.
“It’s going to fill your bottom up, Lily, and it’s going to hold you open nice and wide. You’ll have it in for half an hour, lying just like this, so I can see you learning your lesson. I’ll spank your pussy in a few moments, and after I take the plug out you’ll have my cock in your backside for a discipline fuck.”
Lily felt her mouth turn up in a little girl’s pout, and the tears trickled down her face. “Yes, sir,” she whispered. She tried to hold her knees open as wide as she knew Eric liked them to be for sex, before he took hold of them himself and opened them even farther when he entered her, and when he told her she was allowed to touch herself, and she came and came and came.
He pulled her white cotton nightgown up a little more, so it was wreathed around her waist and Lily could see him move the plug down between her legs until it disappeared from view and a moment later she felt it pushing up against her tiny bottom-hole. Lily’s face got hot the way it always did when she had to open her bottom for what her husband had decided she must have there. She pushed, and then she cried out as the hard rubber—so much sterner than Eric’s cock—pushed in, and kept pushing.
“Oh, it hurts,” she wailed. “Oh, sir, it’s too big! It hurts!”
“Of course it hurts, honey,” Eric said. “It’s a punishment. You’re learning a lesson.” He pushed further, until finally Lily had sobbingly received it all. She had never imagined she could feel so full or so open.
She looked up at him: he had straightened up again, and looked down at her with an expression utterly different from the one she had expected to see on his handsome face. Her husband had nothing but love and affection in his eyes.
“Sir?” she asked in the gasping voice the plug forced upon her, a little confused by his gentle smile. “You’re not angry?”
His smile widened a little. “You look much too pretty with that big plug in your bottom for me to stay mad, Lily.”
Despite the fullness and the burning, Lily couldn’t help her own smile.
“I love you, Lily,” he said, and bent down to kiss her lips. Then, to her amazement, shame, and ecstasy, he put his hand down to her clit and started to rub her there. Lily came, screaming, her bottom clenching painfully around the plug, within a minute. Eric kissed her all the while.
When he broke the kiss, he said softly, “I wouldn’t be punishing you this way—I don’t think I’d be punishing you at all tonight—if I didn’t think you needed it.”
Then, as Lily’s breathing quickened so much she thought she would faint, he brought the same hand that had just brought her to the shattering climax up high, and brought it down hard on her pussy: once, twice, three times, spanking with flat fingers so the stinging blow spread its force all around her clit and her labia. Lily screamed, her hips bucking and her back arching. Her eyes closed as she came up off the bed as if she were levitating.
Suddenly the spanking hand had again become the caressing hand, and Lily came again, even quicker, gripping her knees convulsively and thinking only—if it could even be called a thought—that Eric liked her spread open like that, the same way he had first seen her. He kissed her hard, and kept kissing until the shudders left her body.
“There,” he said softly. “Do you think you’ve been punished enough?”
Lily felt her brow furrow. “What about the disciplinary… the, um, disciplinary you-know, sir?”
Eric smiled down at her. “Would you like a disciplinary fuck, honey?”
She felt her face get hot. “No?”
“Well,” he said with a sternness that seemed to Lily to border on self-parody, “now that you’ve reminded me, I think you’ll have to have one.”
And Lily did.
The End
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More Stormy Night Books by Emily Tilton
Geoffrey’s Rules
For as long as she can remember, Chloe has imagined what it would be like to be utterly and completely dominated by a man. When she meets Geoffrey—a man who can make her blush red with shame and quiver with lust at the same time with nothing more than a word or a glance—Chloe begins to wonder if her fantasy could become reality.
As hot as her desire burns, though, Chloe struggles with herself. How can a modern woman feel this way? Should she not berate herself for longing to be taken over her man’s knee for a bare-bottom spanking? No matter how she yearns for it, does she really belong on her knees at Geoffrey’s feet, naked and waiting for him to take her any way he pleases?
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Bought and Trained
Desperate to be dominated, twenty-five-year-old Rose signs up for a concubine training program and agrees to have her memory of consenting erased, allowing her to experience being forced to explore her fantasies of complete and utter submission.
Leo, a skilled case-agent for the program, captures Rose and puts her through a strict training regimen, in which her body is no longer her own but instead is Leo’s to command. He brings her to the Institute where she meets her training partner, Hannah, and also meets other men who she learns to call ‘master.’ During her time at the Institute, Rose is taught that obedience is not optional and that defiance will result in ever more humiliating punishments.
Once their training is complete, Rose and Hannah are purchased by a master and mistress and are brought back to the couple’s villa in the Caribbean. The girls thrive in their new roles, but when a traumatic experience causes Rose’s memory of her consent to come flooding back, will her realization that she wanted all of this from the beginning bring everything crashing down?
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Shared by the Barbarians
In the time since she was abducted from her world by a cruel, tyrannical general, eighteen-year-old Jalinda has been given little reason to trust any man, let alone three barbarian brothers who take it upon themselves to rescue her. But the rough, handsome warriors intend to share a wife, and they mean for that wife to be Jalinda. Shocked by the thought of belonging to three men, she refuses to go along with their plan, but her lack of cooperation is quickly overcome by way of a switch applied to her bare bottom.
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