Epilogue Lindsey #2
“Then let me remind you.” His palm comes down on my ass, and my hips thrust toward the bed as I bite my lower lip to keep from crying out.
Dane must see it because he moves, leaning on the bed so he can run his finger over my lip, pulling it from my teeth. “No need for that. We’re all alone, and I want to hear your sweet cries. If I didn’t, I would have gagged you.” He taps my cheek and stands up straight, moving behind me again.
“Ten spanks by my hand,” he decrees. “Then we’ll do five with the paddle. You’ll count each one.”
“Yes, Sir.”
His hands rub over my ass cheeks, playing with me again, building me up by squeezing and tickling my skin.
He does it over and over until I almost sass him to get on with it, but then he taps the button on the plug.
At the same time the vibration and first small thrust penetrate my tight back entrance, Sir strikes.
“One!” I cry.
“Good girl.” He taps the button on the plug again, and the thrusts in my ass become faster. I grip the blanket in my hands, and he spanks me a second time, this time harder and on the same spot as before.
“Two!”
He drags his hands over the flesh and toys with me, his finger gliding over the top of the plug before he reaches my pussy. He dips his finger inside me, and my eyes burn with an unsatisfied need.
“My eager slut, dripping for her husband’s dick already.” He spanks me a third time, and I cry out my count before he says, “Too bad you were naughty, or I’d already be balls deep inside my needy wife’s cunt.”
His palm strikes, this time in an upward movement. I hardly have the fifth count out before he spanks me again, then again, harder each time, alternating cheeks. By the time he finishes the tenth spank, I know my skin is red, and my eyes are burning with tears.
My husband pauses and admires his work, fingers tracing over the areas he hit. “Fuck, baby, I love seeing you all marked up.”
“Sir,” I whine as he taps the butt plug so it slows down, thrusting and vibrating at random intervals.
“Yes?” he asks cheekily.
“Please, I want more.”
He grips my ass cheeks, and I whimper into the mattress.
“You crave my paddle? Or do you want more of my hand?”
“Paddle, Sir. Please.” My glassy eyes observe the wooden implement that’s been lying by my head on purpose, the side that says brAT facing me.
He picks it up and holds it to my lips. I kiss it without him needing to tell me to. I’ve learned in our years of play that it’s his way of asking for consent, even if I’m asking him to do something to me in the first place.
“Fuck, baby. I like when you ask me nicely for what you want.”
His praise fills my chest, and my fingers grip more firmly on the blanket in anticipation of the pain.
There was a time, when I first became his submissive, when I wasn’t sure if I’d like the pain from a paddle, and I don’t think I would if it were administered by anyone but Dane.
He always knows how to make it good for me, when I’ve had just enough or need more.
I’ve built up my tolerance and discovered that I find peace and grounding in being disciplined, which is why I’m here right now. Submitting to him and his punishment reconnects us. And like he said, it reminds me that I’m his.
“Remember, we’ll do five. No more than that.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He drags his hand down my spine then over the heated skin of my ass. The plug is still thrusting and vibrating inside me at its sporadic pace.
“Relax, baby. You know it hurts more if you’re tense.”
I exhale and sink into the mattress. Not a moment later, the first strike hits my left ass cheek. Pain flares on the already sparking skin, sending pleasure to my core and tearing a cry from my lips.
“One!”
“Perfect,” Sir praises. I hardly have time to register his praise before he strikes my right cheek. My cry is hoarse as I count, and a tear slips down my face. “I love seeing what you are on your skin. My brat.” He paddles me lower this time, near where my ass and thigh meet.
My hips thrust forward, and I choke on the number three. His hand brushes down my back, and he soothes me with his praise, telling me how much he loves me and how well I’m taking his punishment.
When the fourth one hits, I sob into the mattress, releasing any and all of life’s frustrations that have built up since our last scene.
“Hush, now; you have one left. Can you take it? Can you do one more for me?”
His hand caresses my back, then trails down to my ass, tracing the letters now imprinted on my skin. I suck in a breath and surrender to the pain, surrender to his touch.
His fingers trail to my pussy and then to my clit, circling it gently. “Tell me, Lindsey. What do you want?”
“One more, Sir. Please.” My voice is soft yet somehow strong. I know I can take one more. I know I can please him.
“Such a pain slut, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
His fingers dip inside my pussy, and I moan into the mattress, but as soon as they’re there, they’re gone.
I know what’s coming next—I don’t have to see him to know.
I exhale just as the paddle strikes me for the fifth and last time, my ass jiggling from the force, and my hips thrusting into the edge of the bed.
I expel a cry loud enough that I swear the trees shake outside, but the strike of the paddle is quickly replaced by Dane’s soothing touch and his praise.
I smile as I float in what I now know as subspace.
In this place, I only exist for my Sir. I’m completely in submission and am no longer thinking about what I need to do or anything in the outside world, just him and the space we’ve created together.
His touch on my smarting skin shifts lower until he’s playing with my pussy again. I’m so wet, you’d think I’d come already, but I haven’t. He hums low in his chest, fingers slipping inside and curving until he hits my G-spot.
“So wet for me baby,” he growls, “so tight.” He punctuates his comment by gently squeezing my ass and adding a third finger, stretching me.
“Sir,” I moan. “Please, Sir.”
His fingers stop, and all I feel is the weight of them inside me alongside the butt plug still thrusting in my ass. “Please, what?”
“I need your dick, Sir. I need you to fuck me.”
He chuckles darkly. “I know, baby.” His fingers curl and rub against my G-spot again, this time in a faster and firmer motion. “But I’m playing.”
I groan, and he gently pinches my sore ass, making me buck forward. “Remember who’s in charge here.”
Sir thrusts his fingers deeper inside, swirling them around, pulling them out and pushing them back in so I can hear the sound of my arousal.
“This body,” he says, “is mine.”
His fingers thrust faster, and I whimper.
“I own it, and I can do whatever I want with it. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Sir.” I moan as he clicks the thrusting plug back to the higher setting. “Tell me who gets to decide how it’s used?”
“You, Sir.”
“Who gets to decide when it comes?”
“You, Sir.”
“When it hurts?”
“You, Sir.”
“When it’s fucked?”
“You, Sir.”
“Good girl. Now go to the middle of the bed, and humble yourself.”
I don’t waste any time getting into what he taught me is the “humble” pose. My head is down, forehead on the mattress, ass in the air with knees open and arms in front of me, palms down so I can use my hands and forearms to support me.
I can’t see Dane like this, but I hear the rustle of his clothes and the snap of his belt as he removes it from his slacks. I imagine him folding his shirt and his pants as he likes before standing back to admire my body, which he calls beautiful every day, often multiple times a day.
Eventually, his steps move across the wood floor, and the mattress dips from the weight of him as he gets behind me. He runs his hands up the back of my trembling thighs, opening them wider so he fits between them.
“My beautiful wife.” He trails his finger through the wetness on my thigh. “My sexy fucktoy.”
I groan, more arousal flooding me as he dips two fingers inside me again, and I clench around them. He laughs softly but adds a third finger, scissoring them and stretching me.
“My pretty little pain slut.”
The hand not inside me scrapes over my abused skin before he taps the butt plug to the highest setting. The sensations have my eyes watering and a whine erupting from deep in my chest.