Page 47 of Submissive Lies

It wasn’t hard to miss. The click of the buckle as he undid it, and then the soft swish as it slid through the loops of his slacks, coming free. My head came up sharply as I twisted around to look back at him. He held the belt in his hand, slowly folding it back on itself, fingers clasping the buckle and free end. I shifted up onto my elbows, wobbly as my bound wrists did little to help with my balance. I swayed as I tried to keep eyes on him as he stepped to the edge of the bed, the belt now looped and dangling. Excitement mixed with fear made my pulse race in response to what had to be coming next. I hadn’t thought he would go this far. I’d hoped but hadn’t been one-hundred percent sure. He let the belt trail against my leg, and the whisper of the leather’s edge against my skin shot a surge of pure adrenaline through me. My body crept forward as the leather came to the cleft of my ass.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He shook his head, the hard click of his tongue amplifying the faux disappointment that laced his voice. “You see? This is exactly what I was talking about.” He flicked the loop of the belt against my butt cheek. “Twice I’ve told you to be still, and yet for a third time you’ve defied me. Let’s see if I can make you understand what happens to good girls who won’t obey…”

I watched as the belt came up with a flash, and even as I was turning my head away, gulping in a deep breath, the first strike landed on me.

Fire. Lancing fire and a streak of pain that was so much more than his hand had produced. And my body responded, flooding my system with that chemical cocktail submissives crave. The spankings Steve had administered were a taste. This was the real deal. A mainline right to my cerebral cortex. And I wanted more.

I cried out, heard how loud it was, and quickly buried my head into the pillow. Shit. That’s why he’d placed it there, the smart bastard. I hoped I had done it swiftly enough. The last thing I needed was a neighbor calling the front desk to say that the guest next door sounded like they were being beaten. Because they were, and they didn’t want it to stop, thank you very much.

I kept my head buried in the pillow as Steve struck again. And then a third time. And then a fourth, and a fifth. I could feel him crossing the lashes, no doubt painting the canvas of my ass in Jackson Pollock stripes of bright red. I wanted the pain those strokes offered, the release, the pulse of that chemical tide washing over me. Right now, in this moment, all I wanted was that belt. Again.

He stopped at five. My chest was heaving. I could feel a sunflower of fire that had blossomed on my ass, the burn of it radiating out through me. I rose from the pillow, gasping, crying. I did everything I could to keep my voice from being too loud. I gritted teeth and choked back cries that could easily have become shrieks, denying myself the pleasure of just letting loose at the top of my lungs. During the lashing my body had crept forward with every strike, inching my way until I was up to the head of the bed. It was a natural reaction, and while I had been able to control it during the spankings earlier, with this I had not. My brain was awash with emotions and desire and being still was so far down the list of things under my control that it didn’t even register.

“I swear, Jen, I don’t know what to do with you.” Steve made the circle of leather trace crisscross patterns over my behind as he spoke. “It’s almost as if you don’t want me to stop punishing you. I gave you another opportunity, another chance to be still, and look where you are now.” He emphasized the comment with a sharp rap of the strap against my butt.

My knees were well away from the edge of the bed, my feet barely dangling over the lip. Facing the pillow, ragged breaths became a quivering mewl bubbling up from my throat at the implied threat in his tone.

Steve moved, one knee coming up to wedge between my legs, his weight pressing into me. Before I was even fully aware of what he was doing, he had the hand not holding the belt fisted into my hair, pulling my head back. My spine bent like a sapling in a storm, my neck bowing to the tension of his grip, quivering with both yearning and apprehension as each fought for control over the other.

“I am a patient man, however.” He spoke with a low voice, darker than before, threat thrumming within. “And fair. I’m willing to give you one more chance, Jen. Would you like that? Hmm? One more opportunity to… just… be… still?” With each clipped word he gave my head a brusque tug back, eliciting a moan with every pull. When he was finished he held me there, bent tight.

“Yes! Yes, sir! Please!” The words came tumbling out, punctuated by a gasp the stinging tension of his fist knotted in my hair jerked out of me. He held me there for a second longer before suddenly releasing my head, letting it fall back to the pillow.

“Okay, then. Let’s try this one more time….”

He stood up from his position straddling me. Once more there was the teasing trail of the belt down my back. A tingling line that caused me to shiver as it came across the swell of my ass before it flowed in a snaking pattern down the back of my right leg. Then it was gone, and I closed my eyes, dropping my head to the pillow.

I knew what was coming.

The first blow fell, and white dots burst behind my eyes. I rammed my hips into the bed, as if that would somehow help absorb some of the scorch of the lash. I screamed into the pillow this time. The sear of the leather against my skin a torment that casually brushed aside my pain tolerance as if it didn’t exist. The edge of my vision wavered, sight going blurry as the crack pulled me straight down into a burning pit of delicious agony, especially coming so soon after the first five strikes. My fingers gripped the bedcover and I yanked at it, pulled and twisted it in my hands. My voice gone raw gave vent to my suffering as it was swallowed by the bulk of the cushion. Cries rose until they became screams, and as they grew in strength, I drew the fabric into my mouth, letting saliva drool into the cloth until an ‘O’ shaped blotch stained it. This newest surge of pain knocked aside what resistance I had leaned on to maintain composure during the first set of strokes, and the chemicals I had ridden with pleasure then now flooded through me with a vengeance. I held on with fingertips to ride out the second lash as it coursed across my cheeks, then the third, the fourth, and I had already tumbled over the edge by the time the fifth cracked over me. I spiraled down into that mental realm a submissive lives for. I slipped under the waves and into subspace, floating in that womb-like state that pain, endorphins, all of it, creates.

God, how I had missed this. I fucking loved it.

I was in my own fuzzy, warm cocoon of bliss, and that was all I cared about. The belt was there, I could feel the lazy trace of the edge of it moving back and forth across my ass. The sensation of that small patch of leather on my skin was heightened incredibly, and as it traced a crisscross pattern, I carried on a dreamy conversation with it. Hey there, old friend! Welcome back! Did you miss me as much as I missed you?

I was still floating in my bubble when Steve came up onto the bed with me again. His hand pressed to my back, the belt curling against my skin. He must have leaned down, because his voice was in my ear, soft, warm, disembodied but so comforting, nonetheless.

“Jen. You there? Can you hear me? How we doing? We’re gonna take a little breather here, okay?”

I wanted to giggle. I wanted to gather him in my arms, to hold him and tell him thank you, thank you so much. But I was still drifting in my own little world, and I couldn’t, so I did as much as my body and mind would allow. I rolled to him, blinked my eyes until I could bring his face into focus through tears I only now realized had been coursing down my cheeks. Wetness prickled my skin as I smiled. At least I hoped it was recognizable as a smile. I tried to say something, but there weren’t words, just whimpers, soft mewls of pleasure. That was the best thanks I could give at the moment, and I hoped it was enough.

It was. Steve smiled down at me, his eyes dancing as he took me in. I reached up weakly, touched that beautiful cheek, that magnificent jaw.

“Hey gorgeous.” His voice was a rumble, a soothing caress as he brushed a stray lock of hair out of my face, gently wiping the traces of tears from my cheeks.

The words made me melt when they met my ears. My hands fell, and I looked up at him, blinking slowly. I leaned into his touch, moaned as his fingers lightly stroked my skin. My mind was still swimming lazily in the warm pool he had built for me, but I managed to swallow, and whisper a single word.

“Please.”

“Please? Please what, Jen.”

I closed my eyes and my lip quivered. God, I felt so good. I wanted to float in this sensation for hours, maybe a day, or a month. To do nothing but feel this. To just be, do nothing, not even speak. What Steve needed to do right now was read my mind, because it had to be fucking obvious what I wanted.

“Come on. Use your words…”

I whimpered in frustration. Why did he have to say it with that amused lilt to his voice? Smug bastard. He knew where I was, what he’d done to me. He wasn’t playing fair. I opened my eyes, let them refocus, biting down on my lower lip. My mind settled a little, letting me draw in a calming breath. Okay. There. I can do this. I can tell you what I want, Mr. Smartass-Smart guy.

Steve had other ideas, however. He wasn’t going to wait on me. He chuckled, brushing a thumb against my chin. Then he moved, sliding down the length of my body until he came to rest at the foot of the bed. His fingers brushed up my calves until his hands were gripping my hips. Suddenly he pulled me towards him. I let out a gasp, arms twisting across my chest. I arched my back, trying to lift myself up to see what he was doing, but before I could, he yanked me one more time until my ass was inches from the end of the bed, legs dangling awkwardly.

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