tagNovels and NovellasUntil... (Sequel to The Arrangement)

Until... (Sequel to The Arrangement)


WARNING: This story contains reference to an often misunderstood form of BDSM relationship called Daddy/little girl. To be perfectly clear, it has nothing to do with either incest or pedophilia. It is a depth of emotional bond between a Dom and submissive that intensely mimics the father/daughter trust. Anyone that has read my story, The Arrangement, knows what Samuel would like done to pedophiles.


"Daniel, are you sure about this? We really don't mind keeping them a few more days?" Simone Jackson insisted as she placed the sleeping toddler in the arms of her father. The baby with her soft blond curls caused the band around her heart to tighten even more. She forced a smile as Samuel, her husband of twenty years, placed an identical replica in his best friend's other arm.

"No really, my parents are still there. Mama will help out. Besides I think Jill would have my balls if she does not get her babies back soon. The doctors might have her on bed rest for another two weeks, but if it were not for Bel and those damned Barbie dolls she would be fighting me even more," he smiled weakly.

Simone knew that the past couple of weeks had been anything but easy on the couple. Daniel, especially, as he learned the vicious truth of his first wife's death, the depth of betrayal by a former colleague and then nearly lost the woman he had come to love. She and Samuel were still worried about them; she smiled and looked up at her husband, wondering what punishment he had in mind for her meddlin' this time. It should be a reward considering how well it all turned out, but she had the distinct feeling her Master would not see it that way.

"All right, well call us if you need anything," she offered as she opened the front door for him. She watched as he walked down the sidewalk with his heavy burden.

Not that twins would be a heavy burden, not for her. Not after trying for the past twelve years to get pregnant again. She knew that she should just be grateful for their daughter. It had taken them seven years and half a dozen miscarriages to get pregnant with Althea. She reminded herself that she was lucky. Some infertile couples never even managed that. She had nothing to complain about.

So why did this green eyed monster of jealousy keep raising its nasty head? She was happy for Daniel and Jill, honestly she was. Jill was a great mother, her own adult sons proved that, not to mention the way that she had taken over, loved and healed Daniel's girls from the moment she stepped off the plane from London. After all they had been through they deserved all the happiness they could get. Daniel, especially. He had been through so much during the thirteen years of his first marriage. His daughters were not the only ones that Jill's love had healed. And these new babies...the twins that Jill carried now, that they had come so close to losing, were a blessing from the goddess.

It was just that sometimes she wondered - did she and Samuel not deserve another blessing? She swallowed hard, trying to force air past the tightness in her throat as she pushed the door closed. She fought to see clearly through the moisture that she was powerless to stop.


Samuel watched his wife. Her pain bubbled and boiled just like that red hot molten lava that his new boss Doc studied in his friggin' volcanoes. It was a pain they shared, but he knew that Simone took the brunt of it.

His pain was only compounded by not being able to ease hers. He had loved her from the moment he walked into that diner in Charleston. Her loud mouth and thick Caribbean accent that he learned later was more an act than anything. Her laughter. Her soft womanly body that filled out her jeans...and then some. He had been hooked. Caught and filleted just like the cat fish that was her Mama's signature dish. And he would not want it any other way.

Except for this. He ached to ease this pain. The barren emptiness in her soul as well as her womb. It was not just another baby he wanted to give his soul mate, it was so much more. Everything. He wanted to give her everything. Everything she wanted. But that was not within his power. So instead he gave her the one thing it was within his power to give her.

His hands lightly resting upon her shoulders, he bent slowly until his mouth was next to her ear. His breath caressed her skin, almost shaking the loop earring that dangled like a wind chime. Its music was hypnotic in the silence that wrapped about them. He could hear her pulse thumping wildly adding to the musical beat. He smiled as he whispered. "Have you been Daddy's good girl?"

She trembled, a shiver raced down her body and he tightened his hold on her shoulders, afraid for a moment that her knees might buckle. He would make certain that they definitely did this night. But not yet, these games had just begun.

"Yes, Sir," the whispered response was barely audible, even this close, even for a man, who had honed his senses for most of his adult life.

"Good. Girl," he touched her nowhere except his hands resting lightly upon her shoulders. He paused, allowing the silence to heighten the sensations, the anticipation to build. He watched as the tensions of the past few days drained from his slave's body. He knew the moment that even the darkness of her thoughts lifted. Only then did he give them what they both wanted. "Come. For. Me."

Simone's head snapped back to rest against his shoulder as her deep brown eyes closed. He watched her huge breasts rise and fall rapidly. But it was the soft moan that escaped her parted lips that tested his own iron will this night.

After over three months in the field, even if this mission was cushy sweet for a SEAL team, and the past weeks with the police and hospital, the tensions running high for everyone, there had simply been no time for their games. But his body and his heart told him it was way past time to remind his loving wife exactly who was in control...right down to her happy O's as she nicknamed them.

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to bury his aching cock balls deep into his wife's welcoming holes. To pump away until the sensation of her tight cunt squeezing and milking his cock was too much even for his mind to resist.

But not just yet. No, he had bigger things in mind for this night. The babies that they had been caring for were safely gone. Their daughter ensconced as a teen would be for the night in her room with loud music blasting from her headphones and her books spread across her desk. Their little girl was a smart as her mother, she might not know the naughty details, did not need to, but she knew better than to disturb them when Mommy and Daddy were 'working' in his shop. Which he had already prepared for this night.

He sensed the slight change in his slave's breathing knew that this orgasm was winding down, but he was not done playing with his toy. Not yet. Nowhere near done. He smiled as he lowered his voice even more, "Did. I. Tell. You. To. Stop."

Immediately, Simone's quiet whimpers intensified. Her body physical shook as it responded to the conditioning that was years in the making. His control of her sexual responses so complete now that her body would orgasm without conscious thought. What had begun as a game, a way of heightening their phone sex when he was away, had become so engrained that she truly no longer controlled this most basic of function. She could not cum without his command. As simple and as complex as that. It was the ultimate sign of their bond. Her deepest gift of submission. One that he would treasure with his dying breath. One that he would never abuse. His smile played at his lips...well, not exactly anyway.

"You. Will. Squirt." This time he allowed his hand to move from its resting place upon her shoulder to between the softness of her thighs.

He knew that this was a final barrier. A special ability that they had discovered relatively recently. That first time, she had been intensely embarrassed, fearing that she had in fact peed. She had run from their bedroom into the toilet and locked the door for half an hour as he cajoled and pleaded. Not even the various articles he had shown her about the subject on the Internet had done much to allay her fears that first night. He had worked hard over the past two years to condition this response and it was still not total. But the hard gush of fluid that coated his hand told him that this night, it had worked.

"Good. Girl." He positively reinforced her conditioning. "Now. You. May. Stop." His wife collapsed against him. He brushed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Such a good girl for Daddy." His hands moved around to cup her tits that overflowed them. His fingers strummed lightly across the tight nubs. "This night has just begun woman. Get your sweet chocolate ass out to Daddy's playroom."


Simone heard her husband's voice. Knew he was saying something but her mind was not completely her own yet. The sharp sting of his hand making contact with her bottom brought her back to reality quick enough.

"Now. Woman." He commanded.

She shook her head, uncertain what had come before. But she knew that she would be in big trouble if she did not obey. How do you obey an order that never registered in your sex starved, fucking mind controlled brain? For a moment, she thought about arguing the point with him, but the look on his dark face said that would be futile. Her normally sweet and pliable husband was in full Master mode tonight.

She bit her lower lip. A tiny part of her feared this side of him, perhaps not feared, but had a healthy respect for his authority. She knew even like this his love and concern for her reigned over his Dom side. And that was what made her girly bits tingle in anticipation.

Looking into his almost black eyes, her breath caught. There was something there. Something she did not recognize. A new level of power. A new awareness of something...and she could not wait to explore it with this man, who was her lover, her best friend, her husband. Her soul mate written by the goddess in the stars from the beginning of time. Her Master.

Another stinging blow found the other cheek, "I said. Move. Woman. Daddy's playroom. Now."

She could not stop the broad grin that split her dark face. She loved the playroom, which doubled as his wood working shop. Until the soft lamb's wool wrapped about the work bench, transforming it into a make shift spanking one. And the heavy metal chains replaced the tools that usually hung from the thick metal spikes on one wall turning it into a perfect St. Andrew's cross of sorts. Oh yes, this was one command of her Master's that she had no trouble obeying.

She dropped her eyes as she knew she should, "Yes, Sir," she whispered. Her whole body tingled in anticipation. Months without these games. She missed him, but, damn, did she miss the games too.

Of course, she missed the happy O's most of all. But from the moment they had deepened their Master/slave bond with these games, she had been powerless to come on her own. No matter how horny or needy she got during his long absences, she simply could not orgasm.

She remembered the first deployment after they had begun the experiment. The first couple of nights were not too bad; she was after all tired from running after a two year old. By the third night though, she was horny. Damned horny. And as she had for as long as she could remember, the moment Althea drifted off to sleep; Simone had spread her soft thighs and begun to slowly caress her way down her body towards the aching need between them.

Except this time was different. It felt as if there were some fucking invisible barrier between her fingers and the aching hole in her soul. She tried with all her might. Honestly, she did, but nothing would remove that mental chastity belt. She simply could not orgasm, hell; she could not even touch herself without his command.

The next five months had been living hell as she tried time after time to do so. Most nights ended with her in tears. She even sought help from friends online. She considered de-conditioning. But in the end, she had made a conscious choice this time...to leave this intensely intimate level of control in his hands, his voice.

Not that she was not still mad as hell that he had not fully considered how tough this would be on her. She chuckled as she remembered his home coming. He had found her in the kitchen, washing dishes. She had not even known he was back, as was sometimes the case, especially during those dark days right after nine-eleven.

She had had no warning, whatsoever. Simply, "Come. For. Me." She had collapsed forward, her tits plunging beneath the soapy water in the sink. Only his quick thinking as he wrapped his arm about her waist kept her on her feet. It had gone on and on. All those months of orgasms tied up, suddenly bursting forth.

When she finally did manage to regain herself, she had turned and hit him solidly upside the head. He had a devilish grin on his face as he asked, "What was that for?" She had burst into tears as the whole story poured out of her soul. His arms about her comforted and soothed as he whispered, "That was a two way street, Simone."

She had stared up at him in awe as the meaning of his words reached the depths of her heart. It was a moment that she would never forget, that she cherished during the long days and empty nights of the many deployments that were to come. And it always carried her through. Carried them both through.

She caressed the tiny lines about his smiling mouth now as she remembered that time. They had been through so much in the long decade since then. Their love had survived, thrived, despite it all. And she looked forward to this next chapter in their lives. There was no one else on the face of the earth that she would rather spend the rest of her life with than this man, who held her heart and her happy O's hostage.

"Yes, Sir," she breathed as she moved past him towards the garage workshop. She gave an extra twitch of her round bottom. Just to make sure that Master was up to the task of the long night that stretched before them.


"I saw that, woman," Samuel chuckled as he watched his wife sashay towards the backdoor and his playroom. He wondered what she would think about his latest purchase, a power tool of an entirely different kind. Oh, yes, tonight was most definitely going to be fun, he thought as he grabbed the bottle of cooking oil from the cabinet in the kitchen and followed her.

When he entered the garage, she was standing just inside the door, staring at the saw-horse that was covered in the soft lamb's wool blankets. He knew it was her favorite. His as well. His wife's broad backside never looked better than bent over the damned thing, a deep dusky rose from the flogger, his belt or even a hairbrush. Better yet, the damned thing was the perfect height for him to slide his hard cock deep inside her wet pussy when he was done. He shook his head, he had to stop thinking like that or he would be done, way too soon.

"After all these months, did you forget the proper way to greet your Master, woman? Or have you spent too much time listening to that switch gurl friend of yours?" He used her own Caribbean accent for emphasis. "Daniel might like that shit, baby girl, but Daddy don't. So I suggest you remember damned quick what your place is. Do I make myself clear?" he growled as he slowly removed his belt from his jeans.

He doubled it over and snapped it a couple of times, watching the heat rise in his wife's dark cheeks, just as he would soon be raising it in her other ones. He loved the way that her ample chest rose and fell with each snap, the quick intake of breath. And the look in those dark velvety brown eyes...part desire, part fear, a perfect combination, just the one he wanted this evening. "If I have to take those clothes off, woman, I'm shredding them. And since I know that's your favorite blouse, I suggest you get your sweet chocolate ass moving, slut." Simone swallowed; he loved the way she shifted nervously from one foot to the other as she began to unbutton her top. Her eyes never left his; he snapped his belt once more, the sound echoing around the confines of the garage.

He walked deliberately across the short distance, boldly holding her stare with each step that brought him closer to his prey. When he stood just in front of her, he reached up and caressed the soft swell of her breasts, just barely visible above the couple of open buttons, "Seems I need to remind you of your place, woman?" His fingers gripped each side of the soft cotton and yanked, buttons flying across the room, lost forever...like either of them gave a damn.


Simone watched a single button as it rolled across the concrete floor, disappearing beneath his work bench. Yes, there was definitely something different about her husband this evening. Her fingers trembled with anticipation as she worked the button on her jeans. It seemed stuck or perhaps her fingers just were not capable of working at the moment. She sighed in relief as it finally sprang free; the zipper was enough to push down as she worked her fingers beneath the rough skin tight material. It chaffed against her skin as she pushed it down her thighs, but then again her whole body seemed on fire. Looking at the padded work horse, she was certain that bits of it would be very soon.

"Would you like to add twenty more with belt for being too slow, baby girl?" Simone quaked a bit as she looked up into those dark eyes. She shook her head as she realized that her husband too had been busy. While she fumbled with her jeans, he had stripped out of his t-shirt and donned the leather vest she loved so much. Its open front showed a generous expanse of dusky skin lightly sprinkled with springy dark curls over well-defined muscles. She shook her head, listening as the hoops jingled. Even after twenty years the man still had a body to die for. It had been the first thing she noticed when the sailor in his white uniform stepped into her Mama's fish shack that Sunday afternoon.

As she told her friend Jill...dat man sure is purdy. But it was his kind heart that had captured hers. Oh, she knew his job, knew that her husband was a trained assassin. He knew almost as many ways to kill a man as he did ways to make her orgasm. Almost anyway.

It was his job, but it was more than that. Like Daniel and most of the others in their unit, he believed in what he did. He was one of the good guys. A super hero. Her very own dark chocolate version of Captain America.

"Shit," she cursed when she realized that her too tight jeans would never make it over her shoes. She fumbled and reached out for the soft wool of the spanking bench/workhorse to steady her while she fought her way out of the damn things.

"Too late, woman," his voice caressed her. Before the words could fully register, she found herself bent over the damned thing. Her wrists cuffed with leather straps to the front legs. He did not attempt to attach the ankle cuffs since her legs were adequately immobilized by her wet jeans about her ankles.

She heard it before she even felt it. The whizz of stiff leather cutting through the air. She jumped as it connected with the tender skin of her bare bottom. Her yelp was followed with the proper response, "One. Thank you, Sir."

Her proper response did nothing to earn her his tender mercy this night as four more rapidly fell. She struggled to keep up, "Two. Three. Four. Five. Thank you, Sir." Her bottom was beginning to sting but she knew he had just begun their games. The damned bad thing about having a Navy SEAL for a husband and Master was that his damned arms never tired out. The man could spank her ass for hours...and had. She shivered at the memory as she continued the count.

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