Submission's Edge

by Trent Evans

  He watched her closely, in silence. He waited so long, she began to shift her weight, her mouth opening then closing, as if she hadn’t quite the courage to voice the question, the objection, the entreaty.

  Making her wait was almost as sweet as proceeding with making her his toy all over again.

  He reached out to her, stroking the heavy weight of her hair, loving the silky feel of it against his hand.

  “I never stopped being your Sir.” He walked back around the table, and though she remained planted in the spot he’d order for her, she twisted around, keeping him in sight, anxiousness in her liquid eyes.

  Sitting down on the couch, he spread his legs. “Come here.”

  She spun around, crawling to him until she was within the span of his knees. He was pleased beyond measure at the way she assumed that same fetching kneeling posture.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen, my beautiful wife.” He played with a lock of her thick hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “First, I’m going to spank you. And I’m not stopping until your ass is the correct shade of red. I expect you’ll likely be crying before I’m done. But that’s not going to stop me.”

  She shivered, her breath coming in quick, staccato beats. Her lips quivered quite openly now, but never did her gaze leave his. Her nipples were peaked against the fabric of her top.

  “After you’re properly spanked, you will be taking my cock — every single inch — into your ass. One thing you will learn is that anytime you are punished, your ass will also be fucked afterward.”

  “W-what am I being punished for?” She swallowed hard. “Sir.”

  “For no reason other than establishing the proper dynamic for this marriage.” He sat forward, taking both of her upper arms in his hands, caressing them even as his voice became harsher. “You’ll be spanked because you need it, and because it makes my cock hard. And because I don’t need a reason to punish that soft, round ass of yours. It’s mine — and it pleases me to spank it. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice catching. Her deep breath seemed to steady her. “I understand.”

  “You understand what, my dear?” He let his voice drop an octave, a quiet warning.

  “Sir!” she said, blurting it out. “I understand, Sir.”

  “Good.” He danced his fingertips about the upper curves of her breasts. “That’s a good girl. Now, take off your clothes. Every stitch — and be quick about it.”

  She blushed to the roots of her hair as she slipped out of the top, rising up onto her knees in order to draw the leggings down and off each leg. The pubic hair at the apex of her thighs was a dark, lush patch, the sight of it making his cock ache anew. It had been a long time since he had seen her unshaven, and he found he liked it very much indeed.

  “Up on my lap.” He snapped his fingers, and she laid herself across his thighs, the soft weight of her body nearly making him sigh, so wonderful did it feel.

  Taking his time to position her just so, he gazed down at the perfection that was her heart-shaped ass. Though Diandra was in good shape, she had an ass that was much more generous than one would expect from a woman of her generally more slender frame. He palmed a soft, white buttock, giving it a squeeze, its twin shivering in response.

  “I don’t care if you yell or cry out. It’s not going to stop me.” He patted the back of her knee. “But if you kick, I’ll bind these together — and it will make for a much more trying punishment, I can tell you right now. Be a good girl for me.”

  He made her wait a few seconds more, caressing the cool flesh of her bottom, letting the tension build, his cock so hard it throbbed continuously. He pressed its length against her belly, making sure she knew what effect the sight of her helpless femininity was having on him.

  Then he began, slapping each cheek twice, then alternating back and forth. He took his time, each blow ringing out in the room, accompanied by only the jerk of her body, the clenching of her smooth muscles, and the soft grunt drawn from her lips.

  Keeping this steady, unhurried pace for a long while, he soon had her bottom blushing a pleasing shade of deep pink, the muscles of her round buttocks continuously quivering. The skin of her buttocks bore numerous handprints, individual finger-shaped welts rising here and there across the perfection of her ass.

  Smacking her hard across the lowest curve of her bottom, the flesh wobbled and shook, the first real groan driven from her lungs.

  “Felt that one,” he murmured, concentrating on his aim still more, holding each buttock up to expose the tender join at the thigh, and whistling in harsh spanks down across that vulnerable flesh as well.

  “Oh God,” she said, her voice high and tight with the strain as he deepened the color of her jiggling ass still further, the shade changing from a medium red to an angry scarlet.

  “Almost done, girl.” He slapped his palm down across the back of her thigh, forcing a short, sharp shriek from her, her legs whispering together as she surged back and forth across his lap. He stopped to adjust her position again, ensuring the length of her hair hung well down, a curtain of it practically hiding her entire face, her feet held well off the floor to ensure she had no leverage to push away from him.

  The first sound of her surrender was the watery note of her beginning to weep. He took his time then, rubbing and squeezing each well-reddened buttock, searching out for spots that hadn’t been scorched as well as others, and smacking it vigorously, Diandra crying out almost continuously before he ceased.

  Finally, with an ending smack across the bottom of her ass, sending the buttocks bounding to the sound of her anguished squawk, he let his hand rest. His palm buzzed, the stinging there quite pleasant in its own way.

  For it signaled a thorough — and deeply satisfying — spanking well-delivered.

  Forcing her to kneel up between his knees once more, he drank in the sight of her tear-soaked face, the matted lashes dark, her eyes red from weeping, her mouth trembling as a last sob escaped carmine lips.

  “You’re all right. Spanking’s over for now. You did very well for me.” He wiped those tears tenderly from her cheeks, pausing to taste the salt of them now and then, loving the way the savoring of her anguish only made her blush all the hotter.

  “You took that like a good girl.” He beamed at her, unable to help himself, genuinely — and unexpectedly — proud of her fortitude under punishment. “I’m very pleased with you. So pleased.”

  She returned a tentative smile, even as a last tear tracked down her cheek. “T-thank you, S-sir.”

  “But we’re not quite done yet though, are we?”

  The color drained from her flushed face. “But I thought… after this…”

  “No punishment is complete until you’ve submitted that bottom to me.” He tipped up her chin, searching her bright, swollen eyes. “You know what that means, yes? What’s going to happen now? Tell me, girl.”

  He thrilled at this part, needing her to say it, to cement her cooperation in the surrender of her body to his lusts. She was his possession now as much as his wife.

  “Oh… please don’t make me say this. Please…”

  “I want to hear it. We won’t begin until you do.”

  He waited expectantly, not letting her off the hook one iota. This was a dark, delicious part of every punishment she would ever have. A twisted confirmation that she was cooperating in her own subjugation, her enslavement to his lusts.

  “You’re going to”—she bit her lip, looking away as she whispered the words, drowning in shame—“take me… back there.”

  He chuckled softly at that, and pressed a kiss to the wet tip of her nose. He whispered into her ear.

  “I’m going to fuck your ass, Diandra. Hard. It’s what girls get after they’ve had to be spanked. It’s not going to be easy for you, not at all. And I like that very much. Are you ready?”

  She whimpered, wiping the tear from her cheek, but finally met his gaze. “Yes…Sir.”

  “That’s a girl.�
�� He stood then, drawing her up and spinning her around, taking hold of both of her upper arms and drawing them behind her back.

  “You stay right where you are,” he growled, strolling out to the kitchen where he’d set the straps on the countertop. There were four of them, each made of supple, well-worn leather, the buckles a gleaming silver. Returning to her, the sound of metal buckles sent his cock to aching yet again as he bound her arms fast behind her, straps at elbow and wrist. Her sharp intake of breath as he tightened the cruel leather strictures made him grin, rendering him unable to help himself from kissing and licking the sweat-soaked flesh at her nape as he tested the straps to ensure a secure hold upon her limbs.

  The two others he used to pinion her legs at the knees, and ankles, leaving just enough slack at her feet to allow her to make tiny, mincing steps. It rendered her nearly helpless. He led her that way, shuffling and stumbling before him, to the bedroom, dimming the illumination just enough as he guided her to the bed. A single warm light shone upon the cream-colored bolster he had laid out upon the mattress.

  He took his time, helping her up onto the bed, her breathing frantic now, her surprised grunt a pleasing sound indeed as her belly was laid over the coolness of the upholstered bolster.

  “Show it to me,” he growled.

  “I… what?”

  But they both knew what he meant.

  “Do it.”

  “My hands… they’re bound.” She practically panted it. “I can’t.”

  “I left enough slack. Do it, or I might think you may need some more time over my knee.”

  Instantly, her fingers pried at the cleft of her ass, yawning the soft, generous buttocks apart.

  Her embarrassment practically sung from every pore, but nonetheless, she complied until her ass was spread wide, exposing the dusky, vulnerable anus.

  “That’s my good girl. What am I going to do to that hole you’re so obediently showing to me? Hmm?”

  “Oh my God,” she hissed, her body shuddering. “Please…”

  “I’m waiting.” He unzipped his pants as he watched, willing her to comply with this last, delicious part of her surrender. He pressed the broad, purple head of his cock against the cringing, vulnerable opening. Her anus tightened still further as he gently tapped it with his very erect penis.

  “You… you’re going to fuck my ass.” A lost sniffle sounded from somewhere on the other side of that bolster, another world apart from him. “Sir.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do, girl.” He thumbed open the bottle of lubricant, drizzling out a generous amount down the cleft of her ass, using the head of his penis to rub it liberally around the opening. He slipped a finger inside, pushing another thumb full if the clear gel within the tight circlet of her anus. “Now, I want you to relax.”

  Drawing his finger free, he replaced it with two, then three, plunging deeper with each thrust, splaying his fingers at the end, stretching her well.

  He knew it wouldn’t be nearly enough, but it was a mercy to her. To fuck her ass without it would have been more cruel than even he enjoyed being.

  “Press out as I’m pushing in. Take it inside of you, welcome it. I want to know you don’t ever want my cock to leave your ass.”

  She groaned, long and loud, as he finally breached her last resistance, easing inside oh so slowly.

  The feel of her jealous clutch threatened to undo him, but he managed to stay in control, taking hold of her wide, rounded hips as he pushed forward once more, to the strained sounds of Diandra’s last, ultimate surrender.

  Then he was fully inside, the hot, well-spanked buttocks pressed firmly to his lower belly. He paused to play with her marks, to admire the tapestry of pain and submission he’d painted upon her formerly snowy white bottom. It now glowed crimson, and she jerked each time he worried a particularly swollen weal lacing her skin.

  “That’s it, give it a good squeeze. Yessss! Just like that.”

  He smacked her bottom, taking up a slow but steady — and very deep — thrusting into the hot clutch of her ass.

  “Does it hurt, girl?” He murmured it at her ear, looming over her, nibbling on her ear as he said the words.

  “Y-yes… Sir.”

  “Oh, I know it does.” He kissed the back of her head, moving within her all the while as he softly spoke the words. “But you need it too, don’t you? You need that ache, you need it to feel dirty, to feel wrong. There are no lies here, not now. It’s only the truth of what you are, of what you need.”

  “Oh God…”

  He slapped her ass again, the sound sharp, making her bite off a cry at the sting. “You want me to stop?”

  “N-no. Oh my God, no… Sir!”

  Her hands twisted at the small of her back, but she ceased resisting, as if the deep penetration of his penis has short-circuited the last bit of her resistance to his advances.

  She began to pant again as he took up faster and faster thrusts, soft, lost cries forced from her lips to the sounds of his hips slapping against her roasted buttocks.

  “I’m close, bad girl!” He lunged hard, her body shuddering under the battering power of his deep thrusts. “So close. Are you ready?”

  “Yes! Oh fuck, harder, Sir!”

  The unexpected words — pure female submissive lust — sent him hurtling over the precipice, his orgasm exploding up from the depths of his being, the hot semen pouring forth from him him as he slammed his hips against her over and over, his teeth-gritted as he cursed, the power of the pleasure coursing through him threatening to make him black out.

  Then it was silent in the room, his body laid over hers, pinning her fast, the two of them utterly motionless, drowning in the lassitude that came with the aftermath of their fucking.

  Eventually, he stirred to the tentative squeezing of her anus around the thick root of his penis, the shaft still half-hard as it deflated within the confines of her ass.

  Pulling himself free, he cooed at her as he loosened her bonds, leaving the leather straps strewn upon the mattress.

  He embraced her then, sheltering her body in the protection of his arms, needing to reconnect to her now, after the storm of their dark, animalistic coupling. Pressing soft kisses to her temple, he whispered the words, her sweat salty upon his lips.

  “Always mine, Diandra. You were always mine.”

  Chapter 23

  I found him standing out on the balcony, staring up at the nighttime sky, the contours of his handsome face cast in ghostly starlight. He was naked from the waist up, a thin pair of cotton pants clinging to the mouthwatering jut of his well-muscled buttocks.

  My beautiful husband.

  “What is it?” I stood beside him, close to his side, taking his hand and kissing the tough, weathered skin of his knuckles.

  “Do you ever wonder? What’s happening up there? Out there?”

  “Not anymore.” I touched his face, and he drew me into his embrace, holding me against his chest. I stroked the tight, brown point of his nipple as his deep voice rumbled in his chest.

  “There’s another contract on offer... transport leaves first of the month. Saw it on the Company feed.”

  “Martin, but you’ve only been back a few weeks... the Company doesn’t even know you’re alive. Have you decided to notify them?”

  He only shrugged though. “Money is... very good. And the Company isn’t taking any chances with this one. They’ve got a Marine battalion stationed in the same system, a cruiser, and two destroyers. No way this station is going to be boarded. Should be fine.”

  “That sounds like bait to me.”

  Martin chuckled. “Maybe it is. If they take it, they’ll be sorry. I don’t think... I know their leader isn’t that stupid. But whoever goes, they’ll be safe, either way.”

  “You mean… are you not going to take it?”

  But he said nothing.

  “What’s wrong? You look like you’re going to the gallows.”

  “What if... what if this is all..
. for nothing. I feel like, I was meant to be something else. For more.”

  “You are.” I turned his chin down, making him look at her. “You came back. You were meant to be with me. In whatever way we decide that needs to be.”

  He smiled then, kissing my forehead, something that always gave me delicious chills.

  “I will always be with you.” But as he said it, he looked upon the stars again, that lost look in his eyes once more.

  “But you need more.”

  He didn’t nod, but we both knew the truth. Hadn’t that been what this whole disaster had exposed? That they both had needed more? So much more.

  And we had found more than we’d ever imagined, an entire new world of possibilities, aspects of ourselves hidden so deep, they were like different people, different species.

  With him, with this man I loved, I could do anything, I could be anything.

  I could explore myself, what it meant to be a woman, to be human.

  What it meant to utterly surrender.

  “Sometimes I wonder if living is really the point,” he said. “If I live without purpose, without meaning… is that really living?”

  “Of course it is.”

  “I don’t know.” He sighed. “Sometimes... I wonder what it would be like to have something matter so much, that it was worth dying for.”

  “You don’t have to wonder.” I pressed my lips to his, sighing against his mouth. “It’s me. You saved me.”

  He touched my face. “I do. And once I got a taste of it... I think it’s stayed with me. That need to fight for something more than myself. Fight for something that actually matters.”

  Then he grew silent, both us staring up at the beautiful, endless stars.

  Chapter 24

  I had promised him I would see him off at the spaceport. Despite my fear of letting him go again, the knowledge that there were no guarantees out there, I had to let him go.

  Again.

  If it were up to me, I’d have kept him there, all to myself, for the rest of our days. Safe in my arms, safe in my bed. Together. Never apart again.

  My Martin though… he could never be that way. It just wasn’t in his DNA. He had to do, to be, to change things for the better.