Submissive Secrets Ch. 05byrobyne_morgan©
Part V - Friday Afternoon
I have rewritten this story (yet again). It is more honest and I am much happier with it.
The combination of utter darkness, the vibration from the road, and the gentle hum of the engine was hypnotizing. The pain from my punishment, however, was keeping me focused—effectively preventing my mind from wandering—I could think of nothing but Stephen and what he had given me. The stinging from the belt had settled into a warm, pleasant, throbbing in my butt and upper thighs. But the handcuffs were too tight and dug into my wrists with an ever increasing, and annoyingly sharp pain. I felt the onset of carpet burns on my arms and legs from sliding around at every stop and I was worried about the noise I was making. So by the time we stopped to pick up Lindsey, I had positioned my back against the rear of the trunk, while pushing against the front with my feet. This allowed me to remain steady and somewhat comfortable.
I wondered if Lindsey would think it odd for Stephen to put the luggage into the back seat instead of the trunk. I imagined her getting suspicious and questioning him as to why she wasn't allowed to look inside. Perhaps he would say he was hiding a present from her. I wondered what they might be discussing: Was Stephen dropping clever little hints as to the contents of the trunk? How far would he take it? Would this be the day that our secret was finally revealed? I began imagining the humiliation of being discovered in such an ignominious state, and found, with some disdain, that I was becoming aroused. I shifted my body a little and began to wonder how much air I had as I rode captive down the interstate in darkness—naked and cuffed, defiled and humiliated—and tried to turn my mind away from Lindsey.
I had invited the punishment and Stephen had been obliged to inflict it. I craved the feeling of power that he held over me, and on this particular occasion I received more than I bargained for. The belt had hurt, but the heart of my retribution had been what came after. Being forced to kneel before him while he came on my face—which should have felt mortally degrading—seemed oddly redeeming. What could possibly have been a more submissive act, more feminine, than allowing the man I loved to have his way with me like that? And I had sat up straight, and obediently taken everything he had to give.
I sincerely loved him. Our relationship was certainly deviant, but it was uniquely ours. And even if I was nothing more than a reckless slut, and Stephen a narcissistic sociopath, I was his slut, and he was my fucked-up master. We belonged together: I was bound to him, as he was bound to me. As I rode along that afternoon, cuffed and locked in his trunk, I felt, not constrained, but held by him. I felt the warmth of love holding me tightly, and it felt good.
I was beginning to doze off when the trunk lid finally opened and I was soothed by a wave of fresh air and a faint glimpse of sunlight around the edges of the blindfold. We had been on the road for quite a while and I was thankful that the ordeal was over. I suddenly felt Stephen's warm lips press against mine in a soft, sensual kiss.
"How are you, sweetheart?" His voice was gentle.
"I'm okay." I said, "Is my punishment over?"
He stroked his fingers softly across my face. "Your punishment is over. We're home now; let's go inside."
Stephen lifted me out of the trunk. I leaned my head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat while he carried me into the house and up the stairs. I felt as though I had proven myself worthy, and was being carried up out of the darkness.
He took me into the bathroom, where he sat me on the edge of the bathtub and began running water. I felt a handful of warm water run down my ankle.
"Is this hot enough?" He asked.
"A little warmer please." I said, and heard the squeak of the knob being turned.
When the tub was filled, Stephen removed the handcuffs and laid me gently down into the warm bubble bath. When he took the blindfold off I looked around startled. I wasn't in my bathroom; he had taken me to his house. Stephen bathed me and shampooed my hair while I told him about the rough ride to the airport. I described to him the way I had felt during and after the spanking, and about the pride I had felt after being so subservient during his other punishment.
After the bath, Stephen dried my hair with a thick purple bath towel, and led me into the bedroom. The midday sun filtered through the white drapes creating a soft glow. He pulled back the covers of the bed for me and I jumped in and pulled the blankets up over my shoulders.
"Hurry up, I'm freezing." I said, and smiled as I watched him undress.
I pulled the covers back and opened my arms. Stephen filled them with a warm embrace.
We kissed passionately and I could feel my face begin to flush as my hands wandered excitedly across his back. He's mine, I thought, He's all mine. His lips caressed my shoulder and his hand moved stealthily to my sex. I moaned and tilted my head, allowing him to kiss my neck. His lips went to my breasts and I felt my body begin to tingle. Lindsey smiled at me from a silver 4 x 6 frame on the bedside table. I turned away and ran my fingers through Stephen's hair as he kissed my stomach, his body moving slowly downward. I closed my eyes and a moan escaped my lips as his mouth began exploring my inner thigh. I wrapped my legs instinctively around his body as his lips arrived home. My fingers grabbed greedily at his hair and he kissed me, gently at first, then a warm sensual kiss that penetrated me and sent chills through my body. The tickling sensation made me want to pull away, but Stephen held me by the waist and drove deeper into me. I gave in. The tickling was becoming a deeper, intense sensation and I prayed that he wouldn't stop. I sighed deeply and opened my eyes to Lindsey's idiotic smile. I grabbed the frame and hurled it across the bedroom. Stephen never missed a beat; he was driving me wild.
I closed my eyes and imagined our bed was in the middle of a huge cornfield; the late summer sun was beating down on us and a gentle breeze waved through the stalks. Large white clouds slowly drifted across a clear blue sky. We were completely and utterly alone. I imagined that a razor sharp blade was mounted just above my neck, and that if I tried to move, my throat would be slit. I grabbed hold of the bars of the headboard and began bucking my hips a little—careful not to move my head. My heart began to race and I felt a gentle vibration swelling up inside me. "Oh my God! Oh fuck yes! Here it comes. Uuuggghhh!" I cried out as my orgasm rocked through me. I pulled at the headboard with all my strength and Stephen managed to drive his tongue even deeper into me. I called out in a cry of ecstasy and watched as several frightened crows took flight.
I began to pant. But before I could catch my breath, Stephen had lifted me up. He sat on the bed with his feet on the floor and put me on his lap. I guided him into me and wrapped my legs around his waist. He hugged me tightly.
"I love you." He whispered.
I attacked him with a kiss. Stephen put his arms under my legs, and with his hands under my butt, began lifting me up and down. His movements became ever more defined until at last he was slamming me onto him. I dug my fingernails into his back.
"Please, fuck me!" I screamed, "Fuck me hard!"
For the second time that day I got exactly what I asked for. Stephen stood up and pinned me against the wall, pounding into me as hard as he could. I tightened my legs around his waist and yelled for him to stop—that he was hurting me. But I wanted to make him happy and I didn't dare call "time out," and he continued to impale me. I threw my arms around his neck and shrieked while Stephen fucked me. I held his head tightly against my chest while he came inside me. I held onto him, shaking and whimpering. After a minute I loosened my grip and kissed his forehead.
"I love you, too." I whispered.
I awoke to the sound of running water. It was dark outside and the only light in the bedroom was coming from a bulb in the walk-in closet. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. The clock on the nightstand read 8:46 PM; I had been asleep for several hours. A dress had been laid out on the foot of the bed as well as a black pair of Versace pumps. I figured Stephen must have planned something for us, so I got up and started getting ready. I slipped into the dress—a beautiful, black Marc Jacobs strapless—it was Lindsey's. The shoes were a little loose, but not too bad. Stephen came out of the bathroom and winked at me.
"I see you've finally gotten your lazy bones out of bed."
"Well," I said, "I've had a busy day; a girl gets tired you know."
He open Lindsey's jewelry box and took out a pair of her diamond earrings.
"While you wear these," he said—putting them in my earlobes, "you're Lindsey. I will address you only as Lindsey, and you will answer only to Lindsey. Is that clear?"
"Yes sir." I said and closed my eyes. I was hurt: Stephen and I were finally getting a chance to spend real time together and he wanted me to play his fucking wife. Didn't he get enough of her already? I didn't want to be Lindsey; but that's what Stephen wanted, and I couldn't bring myself to deny him anything.