Submitting to a Spanking…Humiliated Affair Part IV

Happy Saturday morning. It’s gorgeous here and the time of year the pollen is kicking everyone’s ass in VA. I am titling this blog Quiet Dynamite. There is a reason for it of course. As anyone who has spent any time reading about my journey with John Patrick knows, I’m not only telling the tale of our growing lifestyle but sharing with you what pretty much every D/s couple goes through – angst. John Patrick and I have chronicled only some aspects of truly limited strife, as there are so many moving parts, so many emotions. I can tell you this man hates drama more than any other I’ve known and drama to him is anything emotional that tends to get a bit heated. I can understand that and often BDSM CLUB 1with any couple vanilla or otherwise, when emotions are involved we tend to allow them to get out of hand at times. Yes, women are more emotional. I’m not going to apologize for that. Often times our raw and ever-changing emotions are the glue that allows both men and women to talk. Then other times we push too hard. Men can so often fade into the distance, feeling like they aren’t allowed to explore their inner dark side or the strong feelings that might catapult the moment into an argument.

John Patrick has many sides and while he is a growing sadist – trust me it’s a very wowing moment of seeing this – he’s also a very romantic and a gentle man. He cares about every aspect of my well being, no matter how small. He enjoys the quiet times of simply talking, enjoying a glass of wine. I was telling him about a friend of mine, one that has endured (yes I said the word) a D/s relationship that I think is a bit caustic but she told me she needs a gentle sadist. He laughed and kinda said WTF. Then I reminded him, that’s pretty much what he’s becoming. As he and I grow together we’re learning that we both need to explore additional aspects of pain – carefully yes – but the need is growing. On the flip side, he’s a kind and gentle man who adores me. He coined the phrase ‘quiet dynamite’. That so fits him. Not that he’s explosive at all. He’s never risen his voice or been so angry with me in any manner I had fear. He’s not that way. Will I and should I receive punishment? You bet and he will ad should inflict accordingly, but what I mean is simply his various sides are astounding. A Dom has feelings and conflicts, worries and fears just like a submissive does. If he doesn’t then race away from him. That last thing a submissive needs is a Dom or Master without a conscience. Why? Because he will have no limits on whatever he does. There has to be control and for true sadists, the reign is way too much in my opinion.

I think John Patrick struggles with this at times but he’s begun to realize our dynamic needs all sides. Now, what I realize more than ever is that having every side does create additional angst. GOD he hates that word – akin to drama. But the truth is when you have two highly intelligent and professional people who not only lived pretty much a vanilla life and who are also very assertive – you put them together – well… Let’s call it dynamite in a good way. The raging emotions and desires are so damn powerful in mostly positive ways. We have passion and verve, we can talk for hours about anything, I can share all aspects of my life and past with him without fear of judgment. He can as well and this openness leads to full trust. However, the people we’ve been by instinct often bring the angst.

For me, I have many things to work on including patience and in my lack of patience I tend to ask questions, which can lead to the thought of second guessing. I’m really not and definitely not about him, but John Patrick feels this way and more than once he feels like I’m questioning his judgment or decision. In truth knowing me, it’s more about that I’m trying at times SO HARD to do and say the right thing that I fall into the girl that isn’t very submissive. This is lessening with time but still brings about some rather intense moments. However this is going to happen and you have to realize and know you can work through this together. It’s all about communicating – being completely honest. My Quiet Dynamite gives me the ability to release and feel free. He and I are going to further chronicle our journey in a book of sorts. Not sure of all the details yet but when we’re figured it out we’ll let you know. I think hearing about another couple and what they are going through. You’re not alone and the trials and tribulations will grab you by the throat at times. Just remember, it’s only to worry and wonder.

his handprintGoing back to the little story about humiliation. It is a part of the telling of wanting to show off the joy of what you’re sharing. Yes, believe it or not. The level as to which you as a couple do this is entirely between the two of you. For us – well we’re not at this place yet and may never be. Just have to see…

Kesha closed her eyes as the humid air sliced across her naked shoulders. Hot and wet all over, she realized this was a defining moment, one both of them had never anticipated. Being humiliated in front of a crowd of mostly strangers was strangely attractive. However, the odd glitch in Drake’s tone was a telltale sign of emotions he rarely allowed anyone to see, including her. He was apprehensive understandably, but the fear laced in the husky tone of his voice indicated his loss of control, something he required at all times. For a man like Drake to give up the reins in any manner was incomprehensible.

Drake placed his hand on the small of her back, gently pushing her forward. Lowering his head he nuzzled against the back of her neck, his heated and very commanding whisper without question. “You’re going to obey me. You’re going to listen to every word I say. Understand?”

“Yes sir.” When he grabbed her dress, tossing the swath of silk to the floor, she sucked in her breath, anticipating being enveloped by embarrassment. Instead she was tingling all over, her heart racing with a level of anticipation perhaps she’d never be able to explain to those in her day life.

Wrapping his hand around her hair he jerked her head back as he walked them both loser to the cross. “You’re going to remember who owns you.” Tapping his hand on her ass he bit down on her shoulder, digging his teeth into her fragile skin.

“Oh yes, sir.” There would be no way to forget, no concept she wanted anything otherwise. His touch was enigmatic.

“There’s no one else here but you and I.” Easing his hand between her legs he cupped her mound, swirling the tip of his index finger back and forth across the thin lace of her thong.

She gasped as the combination of his finger and a burst of cool air forced goose bumps over every inch of exposed skin. A jolt of current slithered down her spine and the effect was so tremendous, she opened her eyes as her body convulsed. All she could see was the massive cross, the outline gleaming in the illuminated sky. She shivered, every nerve standing on end.


The single slap of his hand turned into a short volley as he pushed her until she was a mere few inches away from the cross. “You’re beautiful tonight, the essence of a submissive. I’m very proud of you, of us.”

“Thank you, sir.” Kesha bit her lower lip and opened her legs wide.

Drake moved his fingers under the elastic positioned in the crack of her ass “You won’t be needing these any longer.”

The ripping sound was subtle, yet for Kesha the moment was freeing and a burning sense of joy rushed through her body. She was hot and wet all over, a state she frequented when her thoughts turned to her sir, her Dom. He longed for her to him Master and she had no doubt one day she would.

“Tell me, how do you feel my submissive?” Drake brushed the tips of his fingers down the crack of her ass, then between her legs until he reached her pussy lips. Flicking his fingers back and forth before sliding them inside, he continued to grunt his appreciation.

As he thrust his fingers deep inside, the force droving her up onto her toes, she You don't listenpanted and embraced the wash of pain. “Sir. Jesus.”

He shoved harder, flexing his fingers open as he slapped her ass over and over again. “You’re going to learn to obey command, every requirement. Understand?”

“Mmm… Yes sir.” Her skin was tingling to the point the light breeze intensified the chill, the breeze reminding her they were in the open, in front of others who wanted to see everything. Euphoric, she met every hard plunge with a rocking of her body, longing for his thick cock.

“Such a bad girl.” He finger fucked her brutally until he had all five fingers inside.

The concentrated sound of murmurs floating from every direction in the room was exhilarating. The pain was increasing and sweat beaded along her upper lip as tears welled in her eyes. They weren’t tears of fear but those of unfulfilled hunger, famished for the only man who’d ever allowed her to feel so alive. For a few seconds she was unable to breathe, unable to think clearly. Her muscles constricted around the invasion and the moment his fist curled, slipping inside her cunt, she tossed her head back and exclaimed.

“Good girl.”

“Gorgeous fisting, Drake.”

“Very powerful.”

The words of the bystanders were somehow a primitive aphrodisiac. Reeling from the anguish as well as raw ecstasy, she lifted out her arms. The gesture was nothing more than a freedom to let go, a telling the crowd as well as her Dom that she wasn’t holding anything back. She shivered as her toes curled, pleasure and pain mixing together in a frenzy of heat. She knew better than to cum, to disobey the man who owned her, but damn if she wasn’t fighting with everything she had.

Drake gripped her arm, the hold in a bruising fashion. “I want you to wear my marks on every inch of your body. I want the world to see that you belong to me, that you obey me. I want there to be no question of who I am to you or anyone else around us.”

With every word, every simple phrase he issued, she fell into a mesmerizing spell, honing in on the sound of his voice, the ominous tone. “Yes sir. I…I…want nothing more than…to wear your marks…with joy.” Panting, she licked the beads of perspiration off her lip as a trickled slithered down the back of her neck.

He reached around, cupping and squeezing her breast, his grip tightening with each passing second. “Mine. You will have no one else. I will not share.” The growl husky and directed, he pinched her nipple, twisting the tender flesh until she cried out.

“Oooohhh…” Kesha’s legs were shaking, a dull echo swimming in her ears. The pain was delicious.

Seconds later he released his hold, removing his fingers and patting her ass. He breathed a swatch of hot air across her shoulders and eased her the final distance to the cross.

Her sir didn’t have to ask her to raise her arms or position her legs so that they could be bound. She knew innately what was required, what would be.

Remaining silent, he secured first one ankle then the other, his hand never leaving her some portion of her skin.

She could tell the guests were inching closer, could hear their whispered words of lust and their desire to see her punished, whipped until they were satisfied. The thought was provocative, revealing of a group of people who by day commanded the attention of all those around them. By night they became the people they were intended to be, those where desires matched the evocative and very dark cravings living in secluded regions of their minds. For all of them, the journey into releasing their private beasts, ones capable of inflicting or enduring a heightened threshold of raw anguish, was discerning. For the first time she truly realized how encompassing the lifestyle was. And she wanted more – so much more.

Every move deliberate, Drake rubbed his hand from her right heel up the inside of her leg, his fingers tracing a circle around her inner thigh. Slowly moving his hand up from the small of her waist and up the right side of her spine, he peppered kisses along her back, finally biting the base of her neck.

Whimpering, she clenched her fists, doing everything she could to remain in position. He was driving her crazy with every touch. He knew her body like no man ever had, his ability to press all the right buttons astonishing.

He repeated the move on her left side, this time biting a trail along her side, the back of her neck, her earlobe. Darting his tongue inside her ear he gripped the back of her neck. “When I allow you to cum you’ll feel the true power of my soul encapsulating yours. Tonight, we become as one.”

As he squeezed tighter, constricting the blood flow in her neck, she clamped her eyes shut. The way her pussy quivered was telling – she thrived on pain, his inflicted pain. Passion and a burning desire to serve her sir, provide a level of servitude they had yet to breach, overwhelmed her. The freeing yet very powerful series of raw emotions was completely unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. The harder he squeezed, his actions forcing stars floating in her periphery of vision, the more she craved. Her soul floating, she opened her mouth in a silent scream. Nothing had ever left her wanting more, so much more.

A series of hand pants erupted from his mouth and he abruptly let her go, moving back away from her.

She wanted to scream out, to beg him not to leave her, but she knew he was grappling with his growing sadistic needs, his desire to inflict intensified angish across every inch of her body. Remaining quiet, she rested her face against the cross, savoring the comfort in knowing she was going to be disciplined for reasons The Leashonly they needed to embrace.

For a few seconds Drake remained quiet. A single grunt issued, he secured first her left wrist then her right. His moves were slow, directed.

When she was completely immobile she heard him sigh, the sound strangled. This was a defining moment for both of them, a step into another portion of their journey. She was electrified but for a few seconds a slice of fear trickled down her spine. Her gentle sir, the man who had been her lover, one so passionate she remained in a state of bliss for days after their lovemaking, had changed. His needs had altered to the point she knew there was no turning back for either one of them.

The guests surrounded them, their curiosity peeking. Drake chuckled darkly and dragged his nails all the way down her back. “My beautiful yet very willful submissive, tonight you’re going to feel the effects of my quirt, a painful reminder you’re never to disobey me.”

Kesha knew the implement, but had never received the end of the whip. The instant he said the words she shivered to her core. The leather strap, one meant for conditioning horses, would leave her in pain, striped with crimson welts for the entire world to see. She was caught off guard, a trickle of apprehension sweeping through her mind. Then another moment of peace followed, one allowed the tension to ease. Her sir knew what was best for her and for them.

Drake stroked her back, her ass then moved to the side of the cross, cupping her face. “After tonight there will be no question who you belong to. Ever.”

His gaze was pointed, his eyes filled with so many raw emotions. In those moments of connection something amazing happened. She was falling in love.

“Good girl.” Drake kissed her lips, licking across the seam, before taking two strides away from her. After a full moment of studying her, his eyes never blinking, he walked away.

In the next few minutes of silence, only the sound of the night giving her any indication that she wasn’t alone, she fell into a quiet state of knowing. This was where she belonged.


Agony unlike anything she’d ever felt before tore through her. There was no way to squelch the scream, the one blanketing the entire balcony. Emotions rushed to the surface as he issued another hard strike. For the first time she truly understood the meaning of letting go. As she closed her eyes, falling into a wondrous zone, she heard the words that fueled her complete submission, as well as her devotion.

“I love you.”

My oh my, very powerful in the concept. Don’t you think? I know that in giving my body in such a way to John Patrick, I am offering him my soul. Bliss…

Kisses and spanks


About Cassandre Dayne

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