Bound, Spanked and Loved: Fourteen Kinky Valentine's Day Stories (38 page)

Chapter Seven

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Lisa

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“W
ake up, Lees. Time to go home.”

Groggy, I forced my eyes open as someone shook me again.

“Lisa.”

“Jace?” My stepbrother stood over me, his hair wet from a shower, dressed in a button-down shirt and jeans, his eyes looking worried. “What time is it?”

“Nine thirty.”

“Why are you waking me up so early?” Had he planned some new chore I had to do? “I’m sleepy.”

“Time to go home. Come on. I have your things ready. You can take the car. I’ll find a ride later.”

“What? Why?” I sat up, remembering the events of the day before, of the night before. The memory made me glance at his cock for a moment as I leaned against the headboard. But the look on his face made me worry. This was not the easygoing, devil-may-care Jace I knew. It wasn’t the one who had proposed this weekend in the first place. “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?”

He snorted, shaking his head, running his hands through his hair as he looked across the room. “Did
you
do something wrong?” he asked, unbelieving.

“What?” We’d had an intense, crazy, awesome night. I’d never come like I had last night. Christ, I’d never been as wet as I’d been all day yesterday. What had happened in the hours between when we fell asleep and now?

Jace lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed. “I owe you a huge fucking apology.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I took advantage of you last night and I’m really sorry. I should never have made you do those things—parading you around in front of my friends, then”—he looked off—“fucking you.”

“You regret having had sex with me?”

“Yeah. I do. Shit, it was wrong. I took advantage of you, Lisa. You trusted me to discipline you. It was why you agreed, why you came, and I fucked that right up because I can’t keep my fucking cock in my pants when I look at you. And when I look at you like you were last night, well, I’ll just say it’s worse then.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m very sorry. I won’t tell Mom and Dad about the pot, it’s none of my business. What I did to you though—”

“Last night was the best night of my life, Jace.”

He seemed taken aback, unable to speak.

“Hell, it was probably the best day of my life. Well, except for the spanking and the paddling parts, even if they did ultimately get me hot.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I know that. Come on, you know me. I never feel like I
have
to do anything. I do what I want, and this weekend is no exception. Hell, last night, walking around like that, submitting to you, serving your friends, having them watch as I bent over and got paddled? Fuck, I’m hot now thinking about it.”

He watched me, open mouthed, as if trying to process what I was saying.

“When you had me bent over and you knelt behind me... Jace, I’ve never been so aroused in my life. The tail? Stuff of fantasy. No boyfriend I’ve ever had has been able to make me
want
to submit. None have deserved it. It’s what I’ve been searching for ever since I can remember: a strong man, one worthy of me, of my submission. I want this, Jace. I want the discipline,
your
discipline, I want your dominance, and I want to give my submission. To you.” I realized something then, and nerves suddenly made me queasy. “I mean, unless... it’s not what you want.” Shit, that night years ago when I’d kissed him and he’d rejected me—the feelings I’d buried, the embarrassment and the shame—it all came flooding back. “Unless you don’t want me.” My voice sounded small.
I
felt small.

Jace simply watched me, picking up my hand and setting it on his lap, his thumb working circles on my palm.

“You probably think you want to give me your submission because of what happened last night. Endorphins maybe? I don’t know. This can’t be what you want, Lisa. Not with me.”

“Why not? Why can’t it be?”

“I...I don’t know. My dad is married to your mom, for starters. Think how they’d take the news. How other people would take the news.”

“I don’t care what anyone thinks. And I don’t think you do either, Jace. Just tell me the truth. Tell me it’s me. Tell me that, like that night I kissed you under the stars. Tell me it’s me you don’t want. That it was fun for a night, maybe, but that’s it.” I felt the heat of tears building but I refused to cry in front of him. In the face of this, his second rejection of me, I pushed the blankets off and made to stand, but he grabbed hold of my arm and wouldn’t allow me up.

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” he said.

“Let me go.”

“No. Do you really believe that? Do you really believe what you said? That I don’t want you? That I didn’t want you back then?”

“I said let me go!”

He carried on as if I hadn’t said a word at all. “Because if that’s what you think, then I definitely overestimated your intelligence.”

“So now you’re going to make me sit here while you insult my intelligence?”

He smiled. “No. No, Lisa, I’m not. That night you kissed me, do you remember how old we were?”

“I was fifteen.”

“And me. How old was I?”

“Eighteen.”

“About to turn nineteen.”

“So?” I shrugged one shoulder, but I understood.

“Technically, you were jailbait.”

I didn’t have any words.

“I wanted you as much as you wanted me, but you were a kid. My dad’s new wife’s kid. Granted, looking back, I should probably have talked to you about it rather than pretending it didn’t happen, but I had no clue how to handle it myself.”

“I was so embarrassed when you didn’t want me.”

“I know. And I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just really didn’t know what to do. And then you changed toward me. You stopped coming to my room. We stopped hanging  out, lying under the stars. Talking. Hell, everything stopped.”

“I know. It was the only way I could handle it.” I studied his face, his eyes. I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask the next question. Wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. “What about now?”

“Do you really want this? I mean, all of this?”

I nodded. “I want all of it.”

“Are you sure, Lisa?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been of anything in my life.”

He nodded, the look on his face telling me he was thinking. “Okay. I have to think how to do this.”

“Why not start with right now? You promised to discipline me, Sir. I want you to know that I’ll accept any form of discipline you deem necessary.” My pussy throbbed as I said he words.

“Yes, you are in need of discipline, aren’t you?”

“Desperately.”

Jace stood and checked his watch then gripped me by the hair. “Stand up, Lisa,” he said, pulling me to my feet as he did. I rose, unable to look away from him, the look in his eyes different than it had been moments before. This was Dominant Jace. Disciplinarian Jace.

He tugged me close, his gaze sweeping my body, his mouth at my ear. “So you want to be punished?” he asked, the whisper raising every hair on my body to stand on end.

I nodded, unable to speak, the pull on my hair more painful now.

“You want to be fucked, too, don’t you?”

I swallowed.

“I can smell it on you, Lisa. Now say it.”

“I want to be punished and fucked.”

“You’re a dirty girl.” He pressed his cock into my side.

“Yes, Sir.”

He chuckled. “That was a rhetorical question.”

“Oh.”

“Go have a shower, get yourself cleaned up. Make sure your pussy is shaved bare,” he said, walking to the dresser and opening a drawer. “When you’re finished, you’ll stand facing the wall there and wait for me. Your nose will be touching the wall at all times, understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” I said, watching him as he turned to me.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked, holding up the rattan.

“A cane, Sir?” I swallowed. I knew what it was but had no idea how it felt. Although photos on the internet of the aftereffects of the cane looked to be quite painful.

“Yes, that’s right. If you really want this, then I’ll tell you what will be expected of you. I agree with you that you are in desperate need of discipline. Nothing provides as healthy a result as a freshly caned ass. I’ll require you to report to me weekly, each Friday night before bedtime, prepared to take the strokes. Seven to start, followed by a good, hard fucking. And just be aware, I’ll be claiming your mouth and your ass as well as your pussy.”

I swallowed, positively dripping. “Won’t it be loud? I mean, I don’t want anyone to hear...” It sounded like a dumb question. Why had I asked that?

“That will be entirely up to you. The cane is quiet but effective. You may not be as quiet as the implement though.” He grinned. “So we’ll start today and continue weekly from there on. Any other infractions will incur other punishments, but this will be scheduled. Do you agree?”

I glanced at the cane and nodded, even though I believed him that it packed a punch.

“Good. Safeword is safeword if you ever truly need me to stop whatever we’re doing, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Go have your shower then assume the position at the wall. I’ll be back to punish you soon.”

“Um...okay.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I believe that will add on a stroke.”

“Oh! No, okay...Sir. I meant Sir.”

“Better. Eight strokes today. Go.”

Chapter Eight

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Jace

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T
he sight of a beautiful naked woman standing against the wall waiting for me is probably one of my favorite forms of greeting. No, nix that. Hands down, it is
the
best way for any man to be welcomed into a room. And Lisa’s ass was perfection—as if made for a man to use in the way I would soon be using it.

When I returned, twenty minutes later, Lisa stood facing the wall with her hands at her sides. The cane lay against the wall next to her and, as soon as she realized I was there, she stiffened, straightening a little.

Without speaking, I walked toward her, unbuttoning my shirt as I did, discarding it on the floor.

“Put your hands flat against the wall, elbows bent. Don’t speak. And don’t turn around.”

She almost turned but caught herself and extended her arms to either side.

“Push your ass out a little.” I picked up the cane, as she arched her back, then stepped up against her, pressing my erection against her hip. “First,” I whispered against her ear, her shiver making my cock harder. “Your caning. You know what you’re going to do to get that caning?”

She shook her head and rubbed the side of her face against mine.

“You’re going to bend over and press your hands against the wall until your back is flat and your ass is lifted and offered for punishment, understand? You may answer.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You’re not going to move your hands from the wall until you’ve taken all eight of your strokes and, even then, you will wait for my instruction, clear?”

I was almost as breathless as her as I unzipped my jeans and rubbed my cock between her ass cheeks. “Yes. Yes, Sir.”

“When I’m done whipping that ass, I’m going to fuck you, but if you’re not good, if you take your hands from the wall, instead of fucking your dirty little cunt, I’m going to fuck your face instead and I won’t allow you to come until we have a repeat of the whole exercise, understand?”

She nodded desperately when I held the cane against one thigh and worked the fingers of my other hand over her pussy, feeling how wet the anticipation of punishment had made her.

“Good girl. Now, get into position.” I stepped back to watch. “Offer me your ass.”

She did glance back this time, a short little turn of the head, but I decided to let it go. She had eight coming. That would be plenty for my little novice. I watched her as she lowered herself so her back was flat and her hands pressed against the wall. She took her legs a little wider to balance herself and I knew she was ready when she arched her back and tilted her ass upward, the pink lips of her pussy peeking through between her cheeks.

The things I would do to her now that I knew she wanted them.

I moved slightly to the side and lined up the cane. “We’ll have one minute between each stroke. You are not to speak, not to beg me to stop, not anything. I suppose you won’t be able to help crying out, but you’ll learn in time to take your punishments in silence. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

I didn’t wait. Instead, I raised my hand and struck, her only warning the sound of the rattan whooshing through the air.

I waited, keeping the cane flat to her ass, counting the minute while she mewled, trying to keep quiet. I withdrew the cane to watch the dark pink welt rise on both cheeks and aimed the second stroke slightly above the first. Once the minute had passed, I struck, without a word, and watched her take it, listened to the sound she made as her legs trembled.

Another minute passed, and I administered the third stroke. This time, she let out a little scream, but I did not speak. I simply lined up her next stroke, rubbing the cane against the spot it would soon strike, making her anticipate, my cock growing harder as the next welt appeared on her bottom.

I delivered each stroke like this, watching, listening, but not speaking. Hearing her whimper and cry, waiting for her to resume her position each time she digressed, until all eight strokes had been delivered and accepted and her flesh was a canvas of beige and angry red lines, some swollen, all looking like lines of fire.

I set the cane down and touched a hand to her ass to gauge the temperature difference. The welts were degrees hotter than the unmolested flesh.

“You did well, Lisa,” I said, helping her to straighten but keeping her at the wall while I stripped off my jeans and underwear. “Are you ready to get fucked now?”

She sucked in a breath when I pressed against her, taking her now toward the bed, her back against my front, my cock already searching out the wet entrance to her cunt. At the bed, she knelt and I gripped her hair, keeping her upright, shoving her knees wide, one hand moving to her clit as I kissed her neck, turning her face so I could kiss her mouth as I gripped her shoulder to hold her steady and thrust hard to the hilt.