Honor and Obey…Her Submission…His Rose

The practice of D/s isn’t a perfected science. Couples learn and grow together and often methods, disciplines, playtime and rules are completely different than with another couple. There is no way to place a perfect scenario or suggest the same rules. Why? Because D/s is a journey between two people, aspects can vary all of the place. What is playtime to some might be considered discipline to another. In talking with John Patrick today, he mentioned he’d been on several groups within Fetlife reading and trying to learn about various lifestyles. He’s frustrated right now because he’s not getting the kind of answers he longs for. Hint on the man I call Sir – he REALLY likesAs your master planning and having everything in a structured order. I understand. When he enters into a learning situation, a discussion, he wants to know and glean every scrape of information and understand and… You can probably get the idea.

The fact remains – no two D/s lifestyles are the same. As he and I continue to forge our path, talking and sharing, we’ve embraced the realization we aren’t sure of what to do, what rules my Sir should impose. Of course we’re very early in our personal process and we talk a lot about what I might expect, then I suggest he think about what he needs. What we’ve both come to realize is that time is our friend. There are many layers of submission, of a Dominant run lifestyle. John Patrick is stead fastly embracing the various aspects about the incredible lifestyle today and I knew in a heartbeat how frustrated he was.

I love this about him – needing a place for everything. For his continued education within the BDSM community, he longs to learn pretty much as much as he can. He tells me I have a big brain with writing and I laughed today and commented his is HUGE. When he doesn’t get the answers he needs he becomes oh-so reflective, trying to figure out why he can’t. His patience as well as his desire for information is creating a fantastic Dom. He’s already a great man. We were talking about groups and his comment to me was that he noticed a huge majority of people really liked being a part of a group, or a pack as he called them. He’s right. I had to tell him my thoughts – as if I could hold back. Right?

I believe just about 99.9% of people are followers, terrified to take a stand on anything. They long for affirmation and to be able to glean glory from a leader. They follow behind happily, sometimes no matter what the subject matter or the cause. John Patrick and I will never be a part of a mainstream group. Yes, our makeup screams leader. We can never follow. While we might follow the rules because we’re good people and society says we must – at times we push past them, grabbing those who listen to us, and move into another plain. In knowing the way that I am, he commented that he realized my submittal to him was truly something most couldn’t comprehend. And he thinks it very special.

True, and I’ve thought about this. The answer is easy. I could only submit to a very select few in the world. John Patrick is the only man I’ve met period who submitting to seems so natural. Right. My submission to this man is powerful and breathtaking. And I can’t quite figure it all out yet, nor do I want to. Within every couple there are worries and fears, the highs are MUCH higher and the lows at times so low you can’t breathe. He and I have experienced this already. Our highs are almost earth shattering. The lows leave me in tears. What does that all equate to? Love of course but also the understanding that what we have is precious and should not be taken lightly. And so we don’t.

For our couple, moving to a place of celebration in a way of life that few understand, I bow my head in reverence. John Patrick and I have both learned so much, long to learn more and in the next days, weeks, months and years we will. You never stop learning for if you do…

Craig shifted, wiping his eyes before he shifted from the counter and faced her. There was no reason to allow Stephanie to see any concern. When he turned he shook his head, a tremor slipped down his back. “My God you’re beautiful.”

Smiling, Stephanie placed her hands on her hips. “I just…” After a few seconds she sighed. “I’m glad you approve.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Approve? You never cease to amaze me, baby.” And she did every day they were together. There was no doubt she was nervous, by the look in In his bondsher eyes terrified. In truth, he was as well.

She eased her hand over her mouth and rolled her eyes. A giggle slipped past her hand.

“Are you doubting your sir?” She could be so girlie at times, something he adored and she loathed.

“Um, no sir.” A slight grin appeared then was gone almost instantly, her expression switching to apprehension. Her hand fluttered down her neck as a slight blush crept up along her cheekbone. “I’m tense.”

“I can tell.”

“I don’t know why exactly.”

“I think you do,” Craig said without a hint of emotion. He moved toward the table, pulling the already opened bottle of champagne from the bucket. Raising his eyebrow he poured two glasses and filled what little real estate was left with freshly squeezed orange juice. His heart racing, he cleared his throat. “You and I both know you know why you’re concerned.”

“I’m not concerned.” Stephanie fidgeted, darting looks in his direction.

There were so many conflicting emotions racing through him, so many contradictory thoughts. He’d seen her through so trying times, having faced divorce not once but twice between them. The way they’d chosen to even consider a D/s lifestyle had a long story of its own. And one they hadn’t been able to tell but a single couple. Few in their close-knit group would ever understand. Closing the distance he wrapped his hands around her wrists, pulling her toward him. “Yes, you are. I can only imagine what’s going through your mind. I want you to tell me.” When she hesitated he gripped tighter, giving a slight yank. “Stephanie.”

“We’ve been through this. We’ve talked about every fear I’ve ever had since I was a little kid.” This time her grin was laced with mischief. Pushing hard, she broke out of his hold. “Yes, but there are so many delicious aspects to our joyful event and you know, I haven’t secured a caterer as of yet.” Laughing, she looked down almost immediately.

The nervous tick in the corner of his mouth filled him with sadness. He had a terrible feeling she was only doing this to please him. “Are you certain you want this?”

“Of course I am. I’m very…” Stephanie’s voice trailed off.

Another pang of anxiety slipped into his heart. Was she faking her joy? Closing his eyes briefly he imagined the way she would look, the simple dress, her long hair, the candles. The ceremony would be amazing, their joining of souls and the understanding of eternity all encompassing, yet nothing could prepare either one of them for the rush of emotions. They were raw and full of apprehension, excitement and trepidation about the future. “If you’re unsure.”

“I’m not unsure!” Shuddering, she folded her arms.

Her outbursts as of late had been off the chain. There was no doubt in Craig’s mind he needed to reel her in, break the cycle of bad behavior. He’d given her what might have been way too much leeway in her emotional needs. Stephanie wasn’t prone to outbursts normally. Lately she’d had one every other day. He’d begun to think she wasn’t ready for the ceremony, for moving into another level of their relationship. The thought he hated but he was ready to face the fact if necessary. “We can talk about the details later. Let’s toast to the future.”

She brought the glass to her mouth, licking the rim before she taking a sip.

Craig could see how much her hand was shaking. Because of the movement of her hand she was forced to gulp the liquid then coughed. Were there tears in her eyes? He waited a few seconds before speaking. “Well, I think it’s time.”

“Time?” Her head shot up, her eyes dancing back and forth. She seemed to understand what he was saying and eased down her glass. “I’m been a bit of a brat this last couple of weeks. Haven’t I?”

“You’ve been under some stress at work and your mother’s constant nagging, but you’re correct. The behavior can’t continue.” He was surprised how stern his voice was, how commanding in tone. His wife needed firm structure, required stricter rules and he hadn’t been very good with them. When she swayed back and forth, her gaze toward the floor, he held out his hand. “Come on. I’ll help you ease your stress and get you back on track.”

After several quick looks she nodded and fumbled to set her glass down. Grasping his hand she dug her fingers into his skin.

Her subtle gestures, her childlike mannerisms always touched him. The strong woman was instantly submissive, following his lead. After kissing her forehead he led them toward the basement door and down the stairs. The once dingy space had been retrofitted to be their playroom, something they could close off when family or friends were in the house. He turned on a single light, drinking in the atmosphere, and studied the various apparatuses. They’d hand selected every piece, purchasing the vast majority on Ebay. Every one had been carefully chosen with their playtime in mind. Almost every discipline was handled in the basement, except for the occasional ones he found himself needing to do at a moment’s notice. He laughed at the thought. Stephanie was one willful woman.

She trembled as she stood in the center of the room, her bare feet firmly planted on the cold floor.

“Remove your clothes.” He walked toward his favorite spanking bench, the leather and wooden stool designed with various leather straps, the center arced in such a manner to raise the submissive’s torso. He could switch the angle to different positions for additional methods of punishment. His mouth watered as he rubbed his hand down the smooth wooden side, his body tingling all over. He’d certainly surprised himself how much he enjoyed learning new and delicious methods to inflict pain. Today was about discipline, about re-centering his beloved wife. When he turned back around she stood naked, her hands covering her breasts and shorn pussy. He had few requirements about her personal being. One of which was she was to be Invading her Thoughtsclean-shaven at all times. The other was her nails and toes had to be freshly polished, the color as vibrant as her personality.

Every time he looked at her a range of emotions swept through him, those of protection and honor, adoration and the need to be the kind of Dom she had every right of demanding. “Come here.”

Her feet seemed heavier than normal, her breathing shallow, but she obeyed. As she climbed onto the bench, a series of whimpers slipped past her mouth.

After she laid down, her legs off to the side, he caressed the small of her back, rubbing the tip of his index finger in a swirling pattern. “I love you and long for the best for you. When you curse and rant I worry about you. I know you’re troubled with the normal stresses of life, but the very moment you push past the line of respect, then I’m disappointed. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. We’re going to continue with spanking you once a day to keep you grounded, to help release your tension. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” she whispered, her voice rattled.

Craig continued rubbing until she seemed to be in a calm place. Very slowly he secured first one wrist then the other, taking time for her to stretch and clench her fists. “Today the punishment is going to be severe.”

“Yes, sir. I know I…”

“Know that this is for the best.” Shifting to the base of the bench he tugged her leg fastening the three straps that would keep her from moving. He usually didn’t tie her down for spankings, but this particular round of discipline was going to be severe. After securing the other leg he patted her on the ass and leaned over. “And you’re going to be a very good girl.”

“Yes sir. I’m going to try.” Stephanie’s voice was meek, humbled.

As he walked toward the cabinet he’d purchased only two weeks prior, the one to house his beloved implements of pain, as she liked to call them, he exhaled slowly. Maybe he wasn’t doing this right. Maybe he had no freaking clue what the hell he was doing. Maybe… All the ‘maybe’s’ were keeping him awake at night, the fear and frustration something he hadn’t anticipated, but he’d certainly thought his heightened level of anxiety would lessen. Instead the various thoughts never left his mind. All he did was think about her, about their new life together, and about whether he was good enough. Pushing aside his latent fears, he selected a short handled whip, his favorite. She needed a harsh punishment, one she would remember through the next couple of days.

As he walked toward her, she could tell she was struggling to remain quiet. Stephanie never shut down her thoughts, her mind over thinking everything. She was a worrier, a woman who had to have everything in her mind ‘just so’ and when she wasn’t able to control the situation? Whew. All hell broke loose. He chuckled at the thought. “Thirty strikes.”

“Thirty?” The question was met with a gasp. She shifted until she was able to look at him, her eyes opening wide.

“Thirty and if you struggle I’ll add ten more.” Rubbing the leather between his fingers was a powerful moment. He breathed in the scent of the leather and the thought hit him how much trust there was between them. What an amazing realization.

“I… Yes sir.” Stephanie lowered her head and closed her eyes, yet her breathing remained ragged.

When he was directly behind her he sighed and wrapped his hand firmly around the handle.

Crack! Slap!

“Oooohhh.” Her body jerking, she moaned softly.

She rarely cried, often said she never needed to. But he knew better. They had to reach a new level, one he realized the both feared. Still, they both knew she had to completely let go, face her demons and be freed of the chains that seemed to keep her from embracing this new life without any reservations. Hopefully soon they both could.

Craig touched the red marks already popping along her ass cheeks and bit his lip. The whip was very effective.

Whoosh! Crack! Pop!

Issuing a series of hard volleys, he studied her reaction, the way her body shifted back and forth. After placing whips across her upper thighs he took a step back, allowing her to breath. “You’re doing very well.” His heart was racing like a son of a bitch. The adrenaline was kicking his ass.

Craig walked to the side of the bench and raised his arm.

RopeSlap! Pop! Crack!

“Fuck!” The expletive slipped from her mouth then she groaned. Her back heaved up and down as strangled sounds pushed past her lips.

The welts were bright red. She would definitely bruise. “No cursing or I’ll start over.”

“Yes…um…sir.”

He continued the spanking and with every strike a sharp pain sliced into his gut. This was the right thing to do, the best thing for both of them.

Whoosh! Crack!

When he struck her for the thirtieth time he heard a new sound. She was crying softly, her rattled sobs muffled by the leather pressed against her face. For a full minute he stood in awe, the rush gone, a chill remaining. This was something new, something different. Oh God. Yes. I… The plateau had been broken. Dropping the whip onto the floor, he took a step back and placed his hand over his mouth as tears filled his eyes, raw emotions rushing through every part of his body, setting every cell on fire. He’d never anticipated this, never thought he’d be so… He clenched his eyes shut, praying he hadn’t hurt her. Oh God. No, she needed this and so did you. Full of conviction he opened his eyes, his feet heavy as he walked toward her. “You did very well.” Could she hear the worry in his voice?

“I…yes…” Her weeping continued.

In realizing he was having difficulty unfastening her, Craig did everything he could to control his breathing. The second she was released he pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his body. As she nuzzled into his chest, her wet face pressed against him, he stroked her hair. “You did so well. I’m so proud of you.” And he was. He was proud of both of them.

After several minutes he eased her down onto her feet, cupping both sides of her face in his hands. “I’m going to leave you alone for a little while to reflect on your behavior, on why I needed to give you such a harsh punishment. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.” Her eyes, while filled with tears, were shining, her love for him clear in the way she was looking at him. “Thank you for loving me so much.”

The words stunned him but he knew she meant every syllable. “And I do love you so much.” He pressed kissed along her sweaty palms before leading her toward the back of the room, the one they both called the reflection space. Without saying another word he positioned her face and nose in the corner. “Thirty minutes.”

This was almost cathartic for both of them in ways he continued to struggle with. He reached down and grabbed the thick rope, the one that remained clamped to the wall, and lowered down to his knees. His fingers seemed cold as he tied her ankle. When he was done he admired his work before standing. “I love you.” There was something about the sound of his boots clipping as he walked toward the door that bothered him. He turned to look at her for a moment, this time no longer uncertain. He was becoming the man she needed. As he placed his hand on the light switch and breathed in, he smiled.

Mmm… Pretty powerful? I think so and taking this to another level. I hope you enjoyed.

Kisses and spanks…

Cassandre

PURCHASE LINK

Submitting to a Spanking – His Belt

http://www.amazon.com/Belt-Submitting-Spanking-Cassandre-Dayne-ebook/dp/B00J3GR1FY/

 

About Cassandre Dayne

Cassandre Dayne is the pseudo for the best selling author of romantic suspense and thrillers
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