Homecoming Ch. 02

When the last rays of the sun were kissing the earth goodbye for the day, Grace found herself sighing with an abundance of relief. Daniel hasn't completely forgiven her, but mere acceptance was, definitely, a win for her. She knew she had so much to atone for, and this was merely the beginning.

"You will be staying in the guest room for the week," he intoned. "I'll have someone send all the required items you will require for the stay."

With that, he left the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts and the pile of clothes. He treated her like a guest—an outsider.

You reap what you sow.

Swallowing her grief, she whispered into the empty room, looking wistfully around, "It's good to be back, Grace."

A lone tear threatened to spill out of the corner of her eye, both in happiness and sadness, and Grace quickly blinked it away. She knew Daniel wouldn't welcome her back readily, hell, she even expected to be sent back from the doorstep.

It was the longest night of Grace's life. Tossing and turning, she tried hard to find the ideal posture to sleep, but unfortunately, she couldn't. The best place to sleep would be in the arms of her Master, surrounded by his warmth, and there was no substitute for that. At last, the weariness of the day loomed over her, and she could sleep for a couple of hours.

DAY ONE

Grace woke up before Daniel, strolling into the kitchen to help herself with a cup of freshly brewed black coffee. She sat down on a stool in the kitchen isle and reminisced the days of their relationship. In spite of the rising tension coiling her stomach, there was a sensation of bliss. Back in the day, she woke Daniel up with the coffee and a long, hard kiss. Some days, he preferred to start his day by eating her cunt, while other days with an erotic spanking. There was always a new thing, a new activity, or a toy they had explored together. Sipping her caffeine, she wondered if she would ever get back those splendid days. Groggily, Daniel sauntered out of the bedroom and went down to his kitchen, unmindful of Grace's presence, and was struck for a moment or so before he recovered.

"You're awake," Daniel commented, making Grace jump as she turned to witness his presence. He walked past her, towards the refrigerator, taking out the contents of the breakfast.

"Um...yeah, I—" Grace was at a loss of words, staring at his gorgeously naked torso. "Good morning, Master."

"Morning," he curtsied, without making eye contact. "I will have to fix the morning schedule for you," he said dryly. "Did you sleep well?" he finally asked, look at her.

"Yes, I slept well, Master," Grace said with the hint of uncertainty in her tone, making Daniel's brow quirk up, but he didn't stretch the issue. As her Dom once, he read her expressions well and knew the answer even before she would reply. That gave her no room to lie, deceive, or hide her feelings. Daniel was a friend, philosopher, guide, lover, and a dom—all in one delicious combination. "I made coffee. Do you want me to pour you some, Master?" she offered, hoping to change the topic.

"Yes, coffee would be nice," he said, occupying the stool next to hers. Grace dutifully poured some, placed before him, and stood by his side. Previously, she only sat down if instructed at all, or else she knelt by his side. Daniel flicked a sideways glance, ordering her, "You can sit."

The morning coffee and breakfast rolled away in silence, very awkward silence that left Grace swimming in anticipation. The quietness of her master reminded her of the dangerous silence before a vicious storm. Once or twice, she had tried to make small talks, but they were blatantly turned down by him. At last, she gave up.

Daniel fished out a key and placed it before her on the table. "Go to the study room and wait for me there. Naked." His tone was conversational. Saying, he promptly disappeared into his bedroom.

Finally! Grace hurried towards the study, beside the bedroom. As a couple who were heavily into D/s, they didn't have a traditional room for the lifestyle. Daniel and Grace used to play in their bedroom mostly or in his study.

Entering the room, a chest of memories laid open before Grace as she strode in. From the polished wooden table to the showpieces in the room—everything was as it was. It included the leather-upholstered bench as well, placed between two large wall mirrors. It had an angled top; leather padded and came with elbow and knee rests. It was, indeed, a piece of beautiful furniture unless used for vicious adventures. Grace had never seen one in the study, for she had bent over the table or edge of the bed to receive a spanking.

As ordered, she took off her silk robe and the matching pair of lace lingerie—a delicate, light pink. Unable to figure out the position she should assume, Grace knelt in the center of the room with her fingers laced behind the neck, and the head bowed—she waited. The door creaked when it opened as Grace moved on instinct but quickly restrained herself. A trained submissive like hers knew better than that.

"You remembered the position," he remarked as the deep voice carried across the room. It wasn't a question, so Grace kept quiet. Daniel noted the sensual curve of her back, the creamy skin of her ass, the color from last night's spanking almost faded to nothing. He remembered her to be a little plumper, the natural figure she often hated. What was with women all skin and bones? Daniel never understood.

He came to stand before her and quietly revealed his displeasure. "Perhaps you forgot the details," he said, placing a foot between her knees. "Wider. I must be able to see your cunt." Grace obliged, spreading her knees to provide him with the unrestricted view of her fur covered pussy. He had said that he'd take care of it, and deliver a punishment that fits the crime. So, she awaited the moment.

Daniel lowered on one knee, plunging two of his fingers straight into her folds without warning. The warmth of his skin against her loins shot an instant gust of dampness. Grace successfully managed to bit back the moan rising at the back of her throat while he continued petting the thatch for good measure. Wordlessly, he retreated his fingers, stood up to stand behind her once again.

The lack of conversation was killing Grace. Was this punishment or play?

"Go down on all fours in front of the leather bench, put your face on the floor, and keep that ass high in the air," he commanded and went to retrieve a few things from a nearby cabinet on the wall. Grace followed the instruction to the letter, gingerly going on all fours and lewdly presented her bare ass for his pleasure. From her position, it was impossible to figure out the items in his hand, but she did register the lube as he came to sit down on the bench.

"I was glad to hear when you said that you slept well," he said conversationally, pouring a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. "Today is going to be tiresome for you." Daniel placed a firm hand on her back, urging to dip it down further while the lubricated finger pushed into her anus. "Breathe, and bear down," he coached, even though he knew that she knew.

Anal sex was not uncommon to Daniel and Grace, for he loved it as much as she did. However, Grace hasn't been touched 'there' for over a year. A short gasped wrenched out of her, and she tried to rise but couldn't for the force of his firm hand. "I said, bear down," he rebuked and placed a smarting smack on her asscheek.

"I—am trying...Master," Grace whimpered and groaned. The finger pushed in, stretching her sphincter, as the nerve endings began to tingle her erotic sensibilities.

"Hmm. Nice and tight," Daniel muttered, and then told her casually, "I am going to finger fuck you as we speak." He kept thrusting the finger in and out of her asshole, maintaining a rhythm, and continued the motion. "So Grace, do you still like being finger-fucked with an audience?" he asked.

Holy Christ! They once did a public scene together, full-blown intense, which ended with a great anal fucking and her coming screaming and writhing under him. The memory etched on her mind like a tattoo. She realized she has already started getting wet with the finger fucking alone. However, on some level, it didn't take her to the edge because the act was tad humiliating too. She was naked, bare ass, exposed, finger fucked...the list could on.

Daniel sighed a little loudly. A sub's mind anywhere else than on the scene? Either the dominant is doing something wrong or the sub is blatantly petulant. Well, he was going to find out. He withdrew the finger as Grace immediately felt the emptiness.

Instead of quick correction, he simply expressed his regret. "Perhaps, it's getting a bit boring for you. Allow me to make it a little interesting, then." Next, Grace felt something hard and cold poking at her back entrance, stretching the rim further. Shit! Grace swung her ass side to side to avoid the penetration but was awarded a hard-earned slap on her thigh.

"You know the drill," he said softly. "Bear down, cooperate, and it will go in quickly. You fight and resist—there will be pain." He twisted the butt plug, fucking her gently with it and continued the conversation like a normal person. "I thought I'd go easy, you know, finger-fucking that you loved, but you were completely non-responsive." He tutted dramatically. "Figured, the plug would have your interest. And see, I was right."

Fuck him to hell and back for talking so nonchalantly and punishing her at the same time. She whined lowly at the intrusion; not painful but uncomfortable for sure. A moment later, the fucking made her nerves tingle and unfamiliar sensation made her clit ache.

"I am sorry, Master," she said, begging and pleading.

Daniel smiled. "What are you sorry for, Grace?"

"I wasn't...paying attention, Master," she said with remorse. Daniel twisted the plug a little, sending new waves of sensation through her body. As a result, his cock swelled painfully.

"Was that your only offense?" he probed. The deal-breaker of his arrangement was lying through the teeth, hiding your feelings...the circumstances that separated them in the first place.

"No," Grace admitted softly. "I—I didn't sleep well, Master." Part of her wanted to mouth off and say that he was the reason behind it. That she would have slept better in his bed, but that would have amounted to undue advantage.

Daniel stopped fucking her with the plug and kept it well-seated inside her ass. Straightening his spine, he crossed his arms and ordered, "Sit back on your heels and face me."

With a struggle, Grace sat back on her heels, facing him, and immediately felt the plug push in deeper. Ow. "Please don't send me away, Master," she implored, knowing how badly she had screwed up.

Daniel smiled humourlessly. "A submissive who would rather lie in a conversation than use her safe-word while we play—nice. Did you remember once I told you that there's a dominant for every submissive out there?" Grace nodded and Daniel's smile stretched. "I am not the dominant for you, Grace. At the end of this week, you would know it."

She wanted to deny and take the blame upon herself and put forward the 'It's not you, it's me' argument, but it seemed pointless.

"Reach down and feel your cunt," he directed. This man could mind-numbingly change from one topic to another, throwing her off-balance. Grace obliged, swirling her finger around the area. "Show me how wet you are," came another command.

Grace wasn't as wet as she was until she saw the disappointment on his face. She raised her finger, showing the gleaming moisture.

"Hmm...You can do better," he said. Daniel looked down at her bare breasts, the nipples puckered up invitingly. They were begging to be sucked, pulled and twisted, and he would have done all those, and more, relentlessly. "Up," he ordered. "And straddle my knee."

Grace rose, with a bit of elegance in her movement, and straddled his knee. She was careful, not to press onto the plug, nicely stuffed into her back hole. Her naked form was too stark as against his fully clothed form. It was rather disarming.

"Now hump my knee like a naughty slut. You can hold on to my shoulders if you wish to."

This was the closest Grace got to him, physically. Her hands clamped down on his broad shoulders as she paced back and forth, humping his knee. The coarseness of the fabric rubbed against her clit, reigniting the fire she felt a moment ago. Plus, the plug was adding onto the sensation. Pleasure waves started coming in waves, stirring the calm sea.

Daniel watched her breasts jiggled up and down, her face hungrily staring at him. The movements, brushing against his cock, made it harder. The pre-cum has already dampened a spot on his pants and he was dying to put it inside her.

"Stop!" he snapped when he felt her close. A loud groan tore out of Grace as she slowed her movements, but didn't completely stop them. As a second warning, Daniel took her nipples, pinched and twisted them hard.

"Ahh!"

"Indeed a naughty slut," he commented with a soft grin. The nipples, still within his unyielding grip, were being rolled gently, molding the sharp pain into pleasure. Once she got the hang of it, his hand reached around to grab her ass cheeks, spreading them apart.

"When was the last time you were punished for being naughty?" he asked.

"It was a long time ago, Sir," she replied softly. Indeed it was a long time ago for she didn't taste dominance, discipline, and correction and craved it like a drug.

"Colour me shocked," he replied grimly and patted her ass-cheeks. "Go stand in front of the spanking bench. I believe it is about time you are acquainted with it." Grace blanched momentarily but complied. Nearing the furniture, she eyed carefully, noting every little detail about it.

"Climb up," he instructed. "The elbow and knee rests are softly padded and should not feel uncomfortable. The height also seems to be about just the right size."

Grace slowly mounted on top of the structure, angling her torso on the slope as her Dom quickly readjusted the knee pad and spread it wider. Her cunt and ass were splayed open for his view or any of his whims. He could stimulate her, penetrate her or punish her—and every option was deliciously available to him.

She felt his heat on her bare skin momentarily, but intense sensation lashed against her the moment he decided to casually swirl his deft finger around her throbbing clit. Grace arched a little bit but restricted by her bindings.

No matter how much she'd squirm, Daniel didn't cut her any slack. "How do you find the bench, Grace?" he asked, conversationally, continuing his ministrations.

"It's...uhmmm...very secured, Master," she eeked out, as Daniel smirked behind her.

"Indeed," he agreed. "It is very effective for correcting insolent subs." He withdrew his hand, smacking one of her ass cheeks to get her attention. "Let me show you how it is done."

He disappeared for about a minute as Grace anxiously waited for any sound of his arrival. But her pulse raced madly when she heard, not only the sound of his footsteps but the slicing sound of the cane in the air.

"Do you want to come?" he asked and resumed rubbing her wet, slick folds.

"Yes, Master."

"Then you have to take your punishment first. Tell me, Grace, how many strokes of the cane should you receive for trying control the situation ever since you woke up in the morning?"

"Whatever pleases Mas—" Thoughts were a jumbled mess, tossed in the soup of erotic confusion. But her Dom wasn't going to accept that answer. So he doled out a swift slap against her wet cunt and went back caressing the pain.

"I am still waiting for your answer."

Grace went with the usual. "Eight, Master?"

"Well, that's a start." The Dom pondered a bit. "But I would like to round it off to ten. You can safe-word out should it be unbearable. However, please keep it in mind that I wouldn't allow you to come for the next twenty-hours. Am I clear?" He gave a sharp pinch on her folds.

Grace whimpered. "Yes, Master." Ten strokes. Now, she wasn't the first woman to receive such a reprimand. Schoolgirls were also caned once upon a time. Sure, she could handle a little—ten stroke—caning, if it pleased her Master—her lover.

She vibrated with anticipation, waiting for the menacing strike of pain, but instead, she felt a smarting smack against her ass-cheeks. Soon, the smacks rained down rhythmically all over her exposed derriere—her thighs, sit spots.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

"I don't want you bruising," Daniel responded casually, punctuating each word with a slap. His gesture was both relieving yet heart-breaking. Once upon a time, Daniel would give her a spanking in the early morning just to see her pale skin bloom brighter under his dominance. And Grace had always worn the marks with pride and adoration. But now, he was being considerate ahead of her spanking, not to bruise her. And Grace didn't know what to feel about it.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

The spanking went on and on until her skin turned all rosy and warm under his hand. The strokes were not punitive but delivered the right amount of pain that quickly transformed into a tingling pleasure.

All of a sudden, the whistle of the cane in the air resonated, and before she could register, the menacing instrument hit her flesh, just below the asscheeks. An immediately red stripe formed on the area and Grace bit onto her lips to bite back the scream.

Whack. Whack. Whack.

The second one fell on the globes, diagonally. The third and fourth followed the suit. Pain seared through her skin as Grace arched a little, whatever the restraint allowed. The memories of caning flooded her brain as she remembered how ruthless the stripes could be. Daniel watched the criss-cross stripes rising, as she squirmed and wriggled. Yet the gleaming moisture behind the curls was evident.

Whack. Whack. Whack.

The next three were delivered swiftly, without mercy, wrenched out her tears as she screamed her lungs out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Grace coached herself but failed miserably to find solace as her skin felt like burning coal.

"Safeword, Grace?" Daniel asked, rubbing a soothing hand over her back.

The brutal stripes of cane and calming stroke of her Dom's hand were a divine contradiction. She didn't know what to do for her feelings strewn everywhere. But one thing was certain—she was far from her Safeword. Sure, it was painful, but it blocked her over-thinking process, and she steered all her energy into the pain.

Unable to speak through the parched mouth, Grace shook her head wildly.

For once, Daniel let the protocol slide. "Alright, then. Let's finish it off."

The last three... Grace held her breathing, waiting...For the longest minute, there was nothing but silence, saving for her sniffling. And then, she felt the agonizing sting, followed by the sound of the cane against her skin.

Whack. Whack. Whack.

The eighth and ninth were against her fleshy thighs while he ended the canning by striking on the good old' asscheeks. As far as beating went, Daniel knew it wasn't the worst, but it was surely good enough for the moment.

He dropped the cane on the floor and went around freeing her from the restraints. Once done, Daniel petted her head gently with one hand, while the other delved between her thighs, caressing the skin.

"I take it, it was painful, huh?" he asked, softly whispering. "Grace?"

Convulsive sobs whacked Grace's body. The pain began to recede, overridden by the arousing sensation instigated by his fingers, cruising around her sex.

"Permission to speak freely, Master?" she asked, finding her voice.

Daniel walked around to stand before her, lovingly took her face—all red and blotchy with tears—and looked deeply into her eyes as if searching her soul for something. "Yes, as long as it's the truth."