Submission – Wasteland

by Bethany Burke

She is standing in the corner. Her bottom is very red, hot and stinging. He’s made it clear that she’s not to squirm or touch it. Her hands are on top of her head just to remind her.
He sits on the chair he sat on to spank her, legs out in front, arms folded over his chest. He likes her pretty black lacy bra, even though he can only see it from the back. He doesn’t tell her this. He likes how her red ass looks framed by the black garter belt and dark stockings, likes seeing the marks of his hands, the welts and clear fingermarks, where he spanked her thighs. He doesn’t tell her this, either.

Minutes pass. The quiet in the room is broken only by her sad little sniffs. It’s getting darker. He’s thinking about making her wear a sign for the rest of the night saying, “I’m a bad spanked girl.” She IS a bad spanked girl.

Five minutes. Ten. The sting starts to fade just a little. She starts to dislike the corner. Her arms are aching. She starts to squirm and incredibly drops one of her arms. Her small hand rubs a red cheek slowly.

“What do you think you’re doing?”
She ignores him.

“Come here,” he says.

She turns and glances at him, then drops her eyes. “No,” she says quietly..

He suspected as much. With the tears still on her face, with her ass still scarlet… “No,” she repeats, a little louder. She won’t even lift her eyes to meet his, but the stubborn challenge is in her voice. “I don’t like this. It hurts. I won’t come. You can’t make me.”

He can, of course, make her. He will make her. The only questions are when and how. And how hard he will spank her once he does make her.

He thinks about everything for a while, as she stands feeling safe in her defiance. He showed her spanking. Now, she is going to learn about submission. Quietly, he walks towards her. She tries to be brave. HE tries not to laugh as her little chin stubbornly tucks down. Incredibly gently, he reaches for her, tips her face up. Her gray eyes, still a little red from her tears, lock into his. Without a word, he drops his mouth to hers.

He can feel her surprise. This, their first kiss, she was not expecting. Gently, with just the tip of his tongue, he nudges her mouth open. She moans against his mouth, just a little sound. She can’t help it.

He deepens the kiss, draws her into his body, slips his hand around her and rubs her sore bottom. Shaking with lust, she presses her thighs together. He’s still teasing her with his mouth, just kissing, that’s all he’s doing, kissing. He breaks the kiss, slides his mouth to her ear. Gently, he flicks it with his tongue, then bites her just hard enough to make her moan.

He leaves his mouth by her ear. “You need a lesson. In submission. So, you’re getting the strap now,” he whispers.

She stiffens, her eyes go wide. “What?’

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. She heard him. He leads her to the bed. She moves with him, overwhelmed. She’s afraid of the strap, more than anything other than the cane. She’s already told him this. “Please… I’ll be good. I’ll… stand in the corner again.”

“You’ll definitely stand in the corner again. Just not right now.”

The bad girl wonders why she said no. Why she dropped her arm and rubbed her bottom when he said she couldn’t. He had spanked her so hard. It had hurt more than anything she could have imagined. Yet still she said no. They have reached the bed. He guides her to the edge.

“I want you on your knees with your bottom out.”

“No….” This time, there is no defiance, this is a begging plea. He knows as much as the strap, she is afraid of not being over his knee, not having the comfort of something to hold on to.

“Would you rather have the cane?”

“No.” Again, no defiance. Tears well in her eyes.

“Then get on the bed.”

There is no choice. She gets on the bed and envisions the position he wants her in. She doesn’t think she can do it. Whatever small modesty being over his knee had afforded would be gone. Every part of her would be open and vulnerable to his eyes, even the strap.

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can.”

She thinks about this.

“Annie…”

More tears. Slowly, she turns away from him, puts her head down on the mattress, feels the soft flannel sheet under her cheek. Why does something she wanted so much for so long have to be so hard? The position is every bit as bad as she thought it would be and he makes it worse by ever so gently nudging her thighs just a little apart… with the strap.

Where did he get it? Where was it hiding? She guesses it doesn’t matter, because she can feel it now. He showed it to her before when they talked about how it was going to be, what he would use. Soft brown leather. Somehow she knew it would not feel soft against her already burning bottom.

“You’re getting six. And you’ll ask me for each one and then you’ll thank me for taking the time to correct such a bad girl. You won’t get another one until you ask and until you’re in position.” He paused. “And we’ll stay here three hours if that’s what it takes.”

Annie begins to understand why he had called this a lesson in submission.

“You can start any time, Annie.” There is a little sound. Did he just tap the strap against his leg?

“Please Sir.”

“Please sir what?”

“Will you,” she sniffs miserably, “spank me with the strap?”

He considers her request. He decides it is a reasonable one. He swings, not very hard. It is a good strap, and her bottom is already bright red. He does not need to swing it very hard.

The leather impacts her round red bottom with a sharp crack.

She screeches. The pain is hard, fiery, incredible. It is worse than any of the spanks she had gotten before, even the hardest ones with that paddle.

She wants to close her legs, crawl over the bed, run away. He knows this. He helps her. He puts one hand firmly into the small of her back and holds her still. Already, the sheet under her face is wet with her tears.

“What do you say, Annie?”

She is gasping into the bed, almost panting.

“What do you say, Annie?”

“Please, Sir. Please, Sir. Stop.”

“I… don’t think that’s quite right.” Her position had been so nice, but she is losing the arch to her back. He helps her back up into position by touching the strap between her legs. “Keep your bottom up. Out. Nice and high.”

Moaning, she complies. He strokes her again, there on the most tender most vulnerable part of her.

“Say it. Or you’ll be on your knees like this all night.”

What choice is there? “Thank you,” she sniffs miserably, “for taking the time to correct this bad girl.” Another pathetic sniff. “Please Sir, may I have another?”

Asked so nicely, what can he do? He complies. Again she falters. Again he reminds her, gently, implacably. This time, she must be helped back into position with a smack to her thigh with the strap that could almost… almost have been considered a spank.

“Does that count?’

“No.” Silly thing. “You didn’t ask for it.”

Finally, she chokes out the thank you and the request. Again, the stroke falls, full, hard, and burning across both of her crimson cheeks. The strap leaves little darker lines against the red. He likes these lines. He will be kissing these lines soon enough, though she doesn’t know it yet.

It was the hardest stroke yet. Still, she manages to hold her position better than before, thank him, ask for her next one. He gives it to her, allowing his arm a full strong swing. She’s holding on to the sheets so hard her knuckles are white with it. He is proud of her. Can’t let her get too confidant, though.

The next one he delivers low, almost across her thighs. She sobs when it falls, and slides forward on the bed, stomach flat. “I can’t do it. I can’t take any more.” He crawls onto the bed next to her, rolls her over, kisses her again. “Please can it be over?”

“No. But I’ll help you.” And he does. Gently he pulls her into position. This time, he helps her lift her bottom not with a strap touching between her legs, but with his fingers. She is so wet… “Can you ask?”

Quietly,. she asks him. He fulfills her request. The strap falls with a stroke that is softer than any of the others. Against her burning skin, though, it still causes her to moan and…

“Thank you.” She hopes she does not have to stand in the corner again. He kneels on the bed next to her, licks some of the tears from her face, kisses her again fully with his soft mouth. Without asking permission, hands shaking, she unbuttons and unzips his jeans. He allows her to get away with this.

He is very hard. Somehow, this does not surprise her. Frantically, almost desperately she extricates his erection, cups his balls. He was very good at what he did. She is very good at what she does. She will pay him back.

She drops her head to his belly, kisses him, licks him just below the navel. Out of the corner of her eyes, she can see that the hand that was holding the strap has relaxed; the strap falls to the bed.

It is almost fully night now. They do not turn on a light. She ignores his cock and continues to kiss his belly. His hand slips into her hair. She wants to make him beg. She figures he deserves it. She pushes him back on the bed and uses her little hands to slide his jeans down, all the way. He wants to help her, but she slaps his hand.

He allows her to get away with this.

It is hard to get his jeans off, and it takes awhile. Probably much longer than it should. Everywhere the material was, she puts her mouth. She uses her tongue against the back of his knees. Finally, the jeans are gone, and she crawls up back against him. She kisses his thighs, first one, then the other. Finally, she licks the tip of his cock. Finally. Licks the saltiness off. Then she does it again. Her mouth is soft against him as she runs it up the length of his hard erection. He thought she had a pretty mouth before, wide, with nice lips. He wants to be in that mouth.

“Come on. Please.”

Now he is the one begging. “No, ” she says.

He allows her to get away with this.

Finally, she slides up and around, and slides him into her mouth. This is hard for her, he can tell, but she wants to please him… and tease him. Gently, she nudges him against the back of her throat. He thinks he might die. Her hands slip under his balls and rubs, a little harder this time. He’s going to come, he really is… and he wants to be in her when it happens. He starts to get up, to put her under him where she belongs, and she fights it.

He does not allow her to get away with this.

He remembers spanking her, remembers how hot her bottom is, how red. He wants to be looking at that when he comes.

“Get on your knees.” His voice is a little hoarse. She obeys. He pushes her forward, skims his hand against her butt, opens her up with his fingers. She’s so wet, it’s all over her thighs. He slides into her… Tight. Christ.

He leans over her. Bites her neck. Reaches around her, finds her clit, rubs. She comes against his hand, not knowing whether to follow his fingers or his cock, moaning incoherently. He’s thrusting so hard now he is afraid he might be hurting her. She does not complain.

She gets tighter and wetter at the same time. He comes.