Bound by Her Promise

He cleared this throat. “I’m not going to do anything you can’t cope with, Lysa. You’re a strong, resilient woman. All I ask is to let me take pleasure in nurturing you, making the most of your potential.”

Potential! Meaning what, exactly? She knew what she was capable of doing—working as an engineer, not a sexpot. She shivered, not with cold, but the enduring legacy of the paddling. A hot bottom left the rest of her chilly. Or was it nerves? Did she see herself incapable of what he desired? When it came to pushing for what she wanted, she’d never fallen short. Did she want to fail at this?

Blake had crossed the distance between them and she didn’t move. She let him approach and with his tongue licking about his lips, his hands fidgeting at his sides, she had little choice but let him have her.

He smothered her face and neck with kisses, while his hands roamed about her body, concocting all manner of sensations from gentle caresses to delicate pinches. One of his hands found locks of her hair. Her scalp stung as he tilted her head backwards and nipped her neck with the edge of his teeth.

Below Blake targeted her mound, sliding his palm over it and slipping two fingers between her labia. “Don’t fight it, Lysa. You’re making me crazy. Can you not feel it?” He rocked his pelvis against her hips, nudging his pants covered erection into her navel.

She bunched her hands up by her chest, trying to create a protective layer between them. He ignored them and dipped his head down, licking his tongue around a nipple.

Blake didn’t chip away her resistance; he bludgeoned it as he plied a thumb about her clitoris. Her arms flopped to her sides and he held her tighter to his chest, burying his nose in her hair.

He shuffled his feet forward, propelling her backwards towards the bed. Yes, she sighed, he’d changed his mind. He turned and sat on the bed, twisting her body around as he moved. Before she could understand his intentions, he forced her head down and tipped her over his lap.

“What are you doing?” she exclaimed, her eyes springing open.

He pinched the back of her neck in a pincer grip and pushed her head down. “You’re still resisting. So, this is what is going to happen. I’m going to spank you until you do as you’re told, then I shall gently insert the smallest plug in your lovely arse hole, making sure you’re lush in your tight little pussy, then I sha

ll fuck you. That is what is going on.”

“Spank me! I’ve not done anything wrong.” She tried to shove herself off his lap. “I’m not resisting. I’m… I’m… contemplating my situation and I don’t recall you can just shove something up my bottom without my consent.”

“Wrong. You did consent. The moment you married me.”

She scowled, flapping her legs up and down. “I don’t want to be spanked,” she whined. Her bottom throbbed from her paddling and the pulsating heat performed a duet with a heartbeats. What was happening to her? Unlike her first spanking, when he gave her no chance to resist him, she couldn’t decide whether to scratch him with her nails or lie on his lap and let him get on with it.

“Yes you do. This isn’t a punishment, but, if you don’t stop kicking, I will hold you down.”

Lysa stilled her legs and let out a long groan of defeat.

The flat of his hand landed on a cheek, a fiery patch of skin, and he reheated it instantly. However, it wasn’t a hard smack, if anything it seemed to be a firm kiss of his palm. She gasped and stifled a cry. She leant on her elbows and buried her face in her arms. “Just get on with it,” she mumbled.

Another slap struck the other cheek. “Not the right attitude, Lysa. I’ll keep going until you get the message.”

Message, what bloody message?

Another smack and she jolted forward on his lap. Every few seconds he spanked her again. A methodical, unhurried process, carefully crafted not to deliver too much pain. Blake paused and circled his hand around a buttock, stroking her skin without apply pressure. Her clitoris throbbed between her legs and she pushed back against his hand.

“Say it,” he murmured.

Lysa shook her head, she couldn’t, not yet.

He resumed his slaps, alternating between cheeks and he maintained a clockwork rhythm. She squirmed, grinding her hips into his thigh, sensing his hard cock nearby. She stretched out her arms, resting her head on one while her feet danced on her tiptoes. Precariously balanced, she was grateful when Blake looped an arm around her waist and anchored her to his lap.

Another round of spanking ended and he caressed her, slipping his fingers between her inner thighs, he took the liquid she leaked and smeared it around her buttocks. She clenched her hands into fists, biting back the desire to moan.

It was too much, she was too emotionally raw from the double spanking and she found his whole seduction enticing and liberating. Her ceaseless thoughts, always busy and loud in her head, quieted. He’d pressed the tip of his thumb against her anal bud and she wanted him to penetrate her, just as the doctor had done. Her resistance crumbled in a flash.

“All right,” she mewled. “Do it.”

He led her back to the table, but this time, before she bent over he positioned a pillow at one end. She nestled her hips on the soft fabric. Blake poured oil over the plug. The smooth metal shone brightly.

Lysa tried to quell her trembling legs. They’d turned to jelly and her bottom throbbed, the soreness concentrated at the apex of her bent buttocks. What had possessed her to allow this to happen? She didn’t know, but, she trusted Blake, that was all that mattered.

“Spread your cheeks for me.” He stood between her legs. She parted her buttocks with the tips of her fingers, battling the sense of shame, trying to focus on the moment and not her fears.

She giggled as the cold lubricant landed on the base of her spine and dribbled down, between her bottom cheeks. In contrast to her flaming cheeks, the lube iced her crevice. The tip of the cold plug touched her bud and she flinched. The tapered end seemed pointed, like a weapon and she cowered, struggling to keep position.