Uncovering Her Submission Pt. 01

The fight started over nothing, really. I asked a simple question, and Griffin flew off the handle. Not wanting stoke his anger any more than I already had, I stalked off to my condo and decided to spend some time alone.

Around sunset, I was absorbed in a cheap, romance novel when light tapping startled me. Tucked into the corner of the couch, I saw Griffin's tall form through the sliding glass door, the moonlight shimmering off his silver hair. When I caught his eye and gestured for him to come in, he ducked through the door, his head bowed and eyes to the floor. I sat, motionless, watching him walk across the room.

I'd never seen him so passive, and it raised my hackles. His cockiness had faded into tame remorse, but I resisted the urge to speak first and temper the awkwardness. He sat down in the overstuffed chair opposite me and met my eyes with a nod.

"Thank you for meeting with me. I overreacted this morning."

My mind flashed back to his quick temper and sharp words.

I sighed and said, "Griffin, I'm not sure what you expect from me."

"I don't know. I really don't."

In the past, a disagreement like this would have me running like hell, but this situation was different. He was my neighbor. We shared a deck, for God's sake, so I couldn't run, even if I wanted to.

But, I didn't want to. That's really what was different. Even so, I knew I needed to tread lightly.

I looked him over. "What do you want to do?"

"I'd like to spend more time with you."

"Meaning?"

"I'd like to take you out. Can I take you out tomorrow? Into the city."

Six months of isolation inched me toward agoraphobia. I hadn't eaten in a restaurant in months, and I feared the city's high-intensity might be too much, too soon. Still, I was hungry for adventure.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Something intimate."

"Could you be vaguer, please?"

His self-assurance was returning, and he ramped up the charm.

"If I give you too many details, it'll spoil the surprise. Besides, I find we work better with a little mystery."

Silence flooded the room.

"OK. Let's go on a date," I said.

"Excellent."

"What time?"

"We'll need to leave tomorrow morning around 7. I'll have a car pick us up, so we can enjoy each other on the way."

"Seven! Why so early?"

"I told you, I have plans, and I don't like to be late." His commanding tone returned, and the tension between us subsided.

"Anything, in particular, you want me to wear?"

"No, I'll take care of that. Just wear whatever is comfortable for the car ride. I've got the rest."

"OK. Seven tomorrow morning."

With nothing more to say, Griffin stood up and stretched.

"I'm going. See you in the morning, Tal?"

"See you then."

Once Griffin left, I stomped around the condo, working through every possible pitfall. When that limited my headspace, I walked onto the patio. Once outside, the night wound around me, calming my mind, and enlivening my senses.

Instead of pacing, I leaned over the railing and positioned my forearms on the wood for support. Bathed in moonlight, I heard the trees rustling above me and remembered a pair of eagles that built their nest in the canopy above the deck. Most nights there was a gentle breeze, but tonight the air was still and thick, almost holding me in place.

Behind me, his voice pierced the soupy night.

"Stand still," Griffin commanded, his voice impassive, but firm. I kept my body still but turned my head to face him.

"I said,stand still. Look straight ahead."

I did as he asked, and we both stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity, the anticipation sending shivers through my body.

He cut through the dense air toward me, stopping just short of touching me.

"You look so inviting standing there, your ass pushed up—on display."

He took a step back and walked to my other side, bending down to talk into my ear.

"Were you hoping I would join you?"

In truth, the idea didn't cross my mind, but the intoxicating attention it earned changed my mind.

"Yes," I whimpered.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good girl."

Griffin positioned himself behind me, frozen. I didn't feel his advance, only the firmness of his hands traveling up my leg, bunching the skirt above my waist and revealing bare ass cheeks.

"Such a beautiful, little ass. It begs to be spanked. Would you like me to spank it, little girl?"

I recoiled. Spanking wasn't something I'd ever considered, but now, his hand rubbing warm circles on my ass cheeks piqued my curiosity, and I nodded.

"Yes...yes—I think I will spank that beautiful ass of yours." His tone wasn't aggressive but, slow and sexy.

He moved to my left side and wrapped one arm around my waist, pulling me tightly to his body. When I tensed, he said, "Little girl, I thought I told you to stand still." His hand lifted and dropped with athwack on the meatiest part of my backside. I winced at the initial sting, but the sensation moved through my body and landed between my legs.

I let out an unintentional squeal, and he gave a dark laugh.

"Did you like that, little girl?"

"Yes, sir," I mewled. With him, every, new experience intensified the one before—the more kinks I explored, the more heady anticipation I felt.

He forced his other hand between my legs, resting his spanking hand on my ass cheek. He burrowed his fingers between my folds and growled when he felt my wetness.

"Now, Iknow you like it. Stand still, and don't move."

He slipped two fingers into me and used the pads of his fingers to apply pressure to the divot at the top of my sex. A jolt of pleasure pushed me forward, and—without warning— I felt the bite of Griffin's other hand.

"I said, stand still—and I meant it." The second blow made my knees buckle, and I clamped down on Griffin's fingers. He continued working magic between my legs, manipulating my depths with the skill of a maestro. The more he groped, the firmer the pressure he placed on my backside until I was imprisoned in his arms.

I panted and whimpered as his strokes became more frenetic.

"That's it, little girl. Come for me," he heaved.

I let out a scream and felt my body slipping over the edge. Sensing the approaching climax, Griffin pulled back his hand and dropped one final blow on my ass cheek. The force of the orgasm twisted my body. I wrapped myself around his arm and convulsed—the depth and magnitude of pleasure echoing through my limbs.

Supporting the full weight of my body, he whispered, "I've got you."

When my bearings returned, he led me to the outdoor sofa, and I curled up in his lap. I listened to his heartbeat and felt the warmth of his skin through his shirt, his familiar scent comforting me. His breathing, quick at first, slowed to an even rise and fall.

Moments like this—between new lovers—usually have an air of anticipation, the looming, potential of words unsaid, and the nagging prick of uncertainty. I felt none of that here. Neither one of us cared what was on the other side of this moment, and the unspoken truth comforted me.

"You should probably get some sleep."

"I should," I yawned, finding my feet and stretching. He grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it before pressing it to his cheek.

"Good night, Ivy. Remember, you are mine tomorrow."

"Good night, Griffin. Tomorrow, I'm yours."