It was as if you were connected by something stronger than time, stronger than coincidence. Looking up into his eyes, hers were pools of tears. Paisley still had no clue what was happening.
“I’m still going to punish ye, missy,” he said hoarsely, “but since ye finally showed an act of contrition, I will give ye some compassion.”
Simon’s sultry eyes held something she hadn’t seen before, the flicker of desire. The hint of an odd chemistry that most went their entire life without experiencing.
Now here, in a time she had thought was long gone, she was breathing the same air as this incredible man whose fate had destined to be the love of her life. Even though that meant saying screw you to the cosmos and everything that people believed to be possible, standing before him submitting to him felt incredibly right.
Who truly wanted to be normal?
They wanted to come alive in the presence of another’s soul. To feel something beyond anything remotely comparable to normalcy.
They wanted extraordinary, mind-blowing passion that meant they were far beyond anything in the slightest equivalent to normal.
Right now, right in this blissful second, all she wanted was for him to put his hands on her, in whatever way he wanted to and make her scream.
Pulling her into his arms for a brief sensual kiss, Simon leaned over and opened his nightstand drawer. Inside there was a pair of metal handcuffs on a long chain. Paisley’s eyes snapped to his.
They looked like something inmates wore in old movies she’d seen. The length between them was long because prisoners were expected to work while chained. She had never seen anything like them in person. Handcuffs she bought at a sex store were more like ones that modern police owned.
“Hands out,” he gently commanded.
Secretly enjoying this part, she did as he bade.
Clamping one wrist securely in the cuff, he ran the chain around the post of the bed twice and then secured the other. Paisley felt the lips of her pussy becoming wet as she faced the headboard with limited ability to move her arms.
“Simon?” she questioned hesitantly, when the heat of his body left behind her. He didn’t know she was into anything like this, which made her vibrate somewhat.
Why would a rich bachelor in 1827 have handcuffs in his bedroom, unless he was secretly into the fetish she explored?
The fact he had called this a punishment was not lost on her and that raised further questions, like if he was a sadist or just a dominant personality?
What kind of punishment was he concocting?
Could she handle it?
He walked over to the top drawer of his wardrobe and grabbed a blindfold for sleeping. He had purchased some for other uses over the years, and it came in handy in such a way right then.
Pocketing a hairbrush with a paddle-like head, he was satisfied. She would not expect the paddling, of that he was certain. When he approached her this time, he could make out the tell-tale swell of her backside through the shift and it was magnificent.
Paisley saw the bed shift, as Simon sat. She wondered if he was going to keep her in suspense much longer or actually do something. At the moment, she wasn’t sure what she was hoping for. Then, as he slipped the blindfold over her eyes and took away her sense of sight, all of her other heightened senses exploded.
Simon’s large hands went around her midsection, suspending her in mid-air for a moment, before lowering her into place over what she suspected was his knee.
Focus! she ordered herself, closing her eyes behind the imposed darkness to use the other senses as her clue to what was happening. A warm, firm hand pushed up the shift in a painful silence. If his eyes were on her intimate parts, then he could see the glistening wetness confessing what her other lips were hiding.
She heard him tsk low and guttural, as his hand splayed her bottom, horrifying her when it encompassed both flanks. Simon then ran one finger down the crease of her crack and danced at the opening to her body she prayed he’d soon be occupying.
He was playing her.
Playing her like a skilled musician, hell bent on making the instrument of her body come alive at the slightest stroke.
“Paisy, by the looks of yer arousal, we are going to have so much fun, my love!” he crooned, then raised his hand and brought it down in a hard, cruel snap. “Once ye can learn to obey me!”
His hand raised again, repeating the action over and over until Paisley felt herself breathless with panic. Coupled by the fact she couldn’t see, even when she opened her eyes the stinging swats were landing harder and faster than she had anticipated. Her body began to bow with the ferocity, in a vain attempt to escape.
“Simon!” she finally wept, when the pain began to increase to levels she could no longer bear to remain silent for. “Simon, stop!”
When he didn’t answer but continued the assault, her brain began to go into sensory overload. The onslaught of fear, panic, and arousal rippled through her in a mix of both emotional and physical turmoil, something Paisley had never felt before.
What had started as some romanticised idea of sexual depravity was now becoming more like the fearful punishment most people thought of when they heard the word spanking. Jesus! She moaned, feeling the heat rise while being powerless to stop it. She struggled in her bonds, but metal such as this would never break.
As he felt sobs rack her body, Simon momentarily stopped. His leg that had anchored hers from wildly kicking remained firmly and unmovably in place. Paisley briefly struggled, but even as she wiggled and begged she knew the result was not going to be anything but what he wanted. This was no game. He did not mean to tease or excite; her new husband meant to take hold of her false sense of freedom and demonstrate that he now had the power to force her into compliance. She didn’t want to truly submit. Paisley had only intended to do so on her terms, which in of itself was not a submission at all.
Simon was smarter.
As much as it pained her to admit it, he had outwitted her into believing that she had any say in what was happening, just so he could demonstrate that he was the one in complete control. It was a difficult moment of clarity, because for the first time in her entire life she was utterly powerless in what was happening to her. Physically and mentally, she was vulnerable to another human being and that hurt a lot more than the pain from the spanking.
Since she had become an adult, Paisley had been forced to make her own decisions. Some of which were difficult because they entailed consequences that could be life-altering. There had always been a choice, and no one to shoulder the blame. It was what women of the twenty-first century did. They spoke up for women’s rights, even when some of those rights enslaved them in other ways.
They went to school, got jobs, and abandoned their families for the sake of the women who fought hard to give them the opportunity. They forced themselves to work harder than men, because it was just expected that a woman could be a professional, housekeeper, wife, and mom without yelling it’s too much.
After all, what would their ancestors think if they confessed that they really didn’t want all the responsibilities? That they really liked being able to stay home and raise their children, without risking their children’s futures when only one income was coming in.
Being a woman in the twenty-first century was exhausting, and Paisley hadn’t really seen that until this very second. Draped over her husband’s knee, shaking with pain and fear of what was coming, Paisley had a spiritual awakening. She didn’t want to be free to do whatever she wanted. She wanted someone to answer to, who had a vested interest in her success or failure. She wanted this to work with Simon.
The pause was short-lived, as Paisley felt Simon shifting, and then readjusting them both. He still hadn’t spoken, knowing almost instinctively that she needed this time to do some reflection. A renewed panic fluttered in her belly as she felt the cool handle of the paddle-like brush run over her tingling flesh. Without the gift of sight, she still came to the correct conclusion of what was about to happen and struggled to come to terms with it before it began.
Simon slid it up and down her legs, almost making figure eights with its polished softness. His lack of communication was keeping her teetering on the brink of a breakdown. As the brush head slipped between the gap of her thighs and she experienced the unique sensation of the stings from his hand, the smoothness of the polished wood coupled with the bristles of the brush itself.
A sobbed intake of air to her lungs resounded and she feared that if he didn’t bring it down hard soon she might come without him even intimately touching her. One thing was clear, when this entire experience was finally over, she was going to be emotionally spent.
“Learning to delay gratification is one of the most worthwhile lessons a man can teach his woman,” Simon purred, placing one of his callused hands at the back of her thigh. He squeezed it lightly, as Paisley groaned, willing him to go higher without wanting to verbally admit it. “Sometimes that means biting your tongue. Sometimes it means obeying me when ye really want to do what ye please.”
Squirming, Paisley’s sobbed moans were not entirely from the pain. The worst part was when the slaps first hit, but once the initial shock was over, after a minute, it was just heat seeping into the deepest part of her flesh.
Simon chortled lustfully, instinctively knowing he had her exactly where he wanted. She was so aroused, he knew in a swift manipulation of his finger she would come for him. The thought of her body contracting around him made him almost spill himself. The unpredictable little jerks she made over his stiffening member were beginning to make him lose his rational composure.
He had seen the sheen of wetness as her honey spilled forth from her lips to bathe her thighs and struggled to not return his gaze when his control was slipping. She was so ready for him, so wet and ready he could almost hear the cries of her release echoing in his ears when she cried from the smacks.
Forcing himself back to control, Simon’s hand slowly began to move higher and he could feel the quick beating of her heart from excitement against his leg. Her breathing was catching, then coming out in quick little spasms, a clue to the need building inside of her. A soft little moan escaped, hinting at her lack of composure. Abandoning the brush at the small of her back, he let the other hand wander up to her breast and cupped it. It filled his large palm, as gravity spilled it forth to give him the ultimate advantage.
Paisley felt his cock hardening just at the softness of her belly. The swell was impressive, as she began to get lost in the sensations he was milking from her. Simon hadn’t touched her aching slit yet, but she could feel the wet reaction of her body squeezing from deep inside of her. She arched her butt to try to make his fingers graze her throbbing clit; Simon watched her buck and moved his hand further away.
“Ah ah ah, sweetheart, we still have a few things to get straight between us, now don’t we?” he whispered, as his fingers encompassed her alert nipples.
“Simon, please!” she mewed, wishing she could reach back and touch herself. She was on the cusp, dripping with need for him to do something to send her sailing over the edge in orgasmic pleasure. Every nerve in her body was alive with the prospect of how close that release was. Even as tears streaked her cheeks and pooled beneath her, her body shook with the polarising feelings of need and pain. If he ran his finger through her slit she was certain she’d come so hard she’d feel it as long as the tenderness in her ass cheeks.
“Why did I spank ye, love?” Simon asked, continuing to hold her body captive at the peak of climax. He dipped his fingers down between her slippery folds as if reading her mind and began to lightly stroke. Cursing him for knowing when to hold back and when to apply pressure, she mentally tried to focus on what could entice him to make this happen before she was left totally frustrated. Trying to grind his touch harder toward her clit, she moaned when he responded by removing his hand altogether and swatted her burning flesh again.
Paisley felt herself shaking. The tremor was unable to be contained, and she knew he already recognised he had won. With her head bowed against the flowery scented quilt, she confessed, “I was defiant and rude. I spoke too harshly, and I denied you our first kiss. Ohmygawd! I want you, Simon.”
“I can be a very bossy man, sweetheart. I expect ye to be a good girl. Are ye going to give me much more trouble, if I give ye what ye need?” he asked huskily. In truth, the postponement was torturing him just as much as it was her, but he needed to make an impression on his new bride, especially this first time.
“No!” she heard herself promise almost as if her desire was speaking over every other conscious thought. “Simon, please, I’ll try to be good, I swear.” Squeezing her eyes tight, she hoped his next movements would be to free his cock from the restraint of his trousers and drive it as far into her as it could possibly sink.
“Why do I think that yer try will become complete disobedience once ye’ve had yer way?” Simon’s question was colder than his earlier words. “I promised ye a punishment, Paisy, and I don’t break promises.”
When his hands abandoned her breast and legs, she managed only a scream, “No!”
His arm tightened around her midsection and the brush’s handle disappeared from her back. The whistle through the air was silenced only by the resounding crack as it connected with her inflamed skin. It repeated twenty straight times, landing at various spots of hideous epicentres that rippled pain throughout her body.
Paisley screeched at each connection between brush and flesh as the fiery pain consumed her. She was weeping so hard, it grew difficult to breathe when she needed to.
This was most definitely a punishment.
Her pitiful pleas fell on deaf ears, as her determined bridegroom went literally up one side of her and down the other.
Simon’s strength was unrelenting and unapologetic. The harder she struggled against the chains, the firmer he held her. The throb of her clit continued through every paralysing crack that reverberated out, to the point she wasn’t sure if her screams were going to be from pain or tortured orgasm. If she did come, it wouldn’t be from choice; she was beyond any mental capacity to think.
“Simon!” she sobbed. “Simon! Please, God, stop!”
He let a few more fall, before wordlessly he tossed the brush aside and just sat with her. Her stomach restricted and relaxed in continuous repetition as time ticked by and her cries lulled. Simon reached out and gently fingered her tearstained cheek with the back of his hand.
“Shhh,” he offered, in a small kind of comfort.
It was far from the cheek she wished he’d rub, but Paisley knew he wanted her to feel that pain. He wanted her to take this experience to heart, so she’d become the timid wife he envisioned. A normal woman probably would have been scared straight by it, but she wasn’t normal.
A part of her wasn’t afraid.
A part of her liked pushing his buttons to the point where he had no choice but to do what he promised to her. Even as her ass burned and the humiliation of being taken in hand washed over her, she felt the flutter of contentment that he had followed through with what he had said. Dominants she had played with never punished her. She had been lightly spanked, flogged, and felt a riding crop, but Simon had brought things to a whole new level. Massaging her back and offering her the comfort of dealing with her own flood of emotions in silence, he waited for her sobs to ease before he moved.
Finally, Simon shifted to uncuff her, careful to make sure she didn’t swirl on him in a vengeful tirade. He had never punished someone as hard as he just had his wife, although he did enjoy spanking a girl when he paid the whores he had been with.
He was a control freak.
He lusted for it as much as sinking his cock in a tight wet pussy, if the truth be told. He had purchased the handcuffs because of it, and he sometimes hired a lady at times to come and satisfy his needs.
He chained her to the bed, although that was usually just a mind game that a naked woman was chained to his bed waiting for him whenever the urge took. Nothing like he planned on doing with Paisley.
Paisley was his.
He’d make sure she learned to live and breathe needing to please him.
Helping her stand, he removed the blindfold and shift over her head.
The afternoon sun was beating in the window, making the room hot and her body sweaty. She was a mess of tears and uncontrollably shaking, as he swiftly removed his shirt and tossed it to the floor beside them. His chest was as muscular as she had imagined and dusted with dark hair that hinted on going down into the V of his hips.
Paisley sized him up through the blurriness of new unshed tears. Simon took hold of her arms then, pulling her quivering and naked toward him. His commanding lips descended and captured her mouth.
It was truly a match made in heaven.
He secretly loved how vulnerable and compliant she was, and she secretly loved that this man could do as he willed with her, even in her vulnerable state.
It was a rough and punishing kiss, one that meant to brand her with ownership. Her nipples grazed the coarse texture of his chest hair, transporting her mind to the coupling that was imminent. Simon was delighted, as she manipulated her soft tongue in a dance with his while her small fingers played with the buttons of his pants.
She was still lightly sobbing, and he made no point to pay it mind.
The sweet scent of bodies and sex was filling their nostrils, fuelling the desire that was already rushing them full speed toward one another. When his fully engorged cock sprang free, they both moaned as she encircled it with her hand.
It was a model piece, she smiled to herself, and all hers. His eyes licked over her, as he watched her manipulate it in full thrusts.
Simon dropped his head back, basking in the pleasure her touch was invoking. It had been a long time since he’d had a woman’s touch. Dropping to the floor before him, she sucked him inside of her mouth as deeply as possible.
His mind drifted for a moment of her telling him that she wasn’t a virgin, and her execution of this particular skill had him giving up a prayer of thanks to the heavens that she wasn’t.
Lowering his hand to splay the back of her head, he encouraged her to suck him. It had been too long since his last experience with fellatio, and the sensation was making it hard to rein himself in.
He slowly thrusted as her tongue danced over the sensitive flesh. Her tongue let the bulbous head protrude as she licked skillfully down the thick shaft.
When they made eye contact, he smiled for a split second before forcing her head to bob on his cock again. Paisley let it slip from her lips a few moments later and rose slightly to engulf it between her breasts. They locked eyes with a powerful foreshadowing of how amazing they were going to be together.
Gripping her fleshy cleavage, he leaned down to passionately kiss her.
“Get on the bed!” he ordered playfully, removing his penis from the plump haven it had been occupying and capturing her bottom lip in his teeth.
He was in an uncontrollable state of arousal, and desperately trying to regain some self-restraint to make sure he wasn’t too rough on her. Obediently, she backed toward it, reaching for her favourite new toy that pointed out from his legs. Simon allowed her to take hold, since he really didn’t mind being led to the bed by his cock. Any breathing man who would mind such an act in his opinion should be horsewhipped.
“Yes, sir,” she replied, reluctantly releasing him and lying back seductively.
His throaty snuffle made her grin as well. Paisley wasn’t just going to be trouble, she was trouble embodied. She obeyed him when she wanted to, and even used the words he had ordered from her the night before.
Funny how they no longer appalled her.
How could they only know one another for not even twenty-four hours when it seemed they were made for each other?
“Spread your legs!” he instructed, gazing down hotly when she didn’t even hesitate. There was no shyness, no reluctance like a typical bride on her wedding night.
Her mound was bare and glistening, somewhat surprising him. Simon knelt slowly, trailing kisses up toward his new bride’s centre. Just as she thought his tongue would sweep over her, he teasingly bit her on the right inner thigh.
“Simon! Christ!” she squealed as her legs went about his shoulders and she arched up into him.
His soft chuckle made her snicker as well.
If he didn’t touch her clit soon, she was going to combust. Moving his nose down to take in the full scent of her, he let his tongue snake out in quick periodic movements to just tickle her blooming folds.
He felt the tightening of her muscles throughout her body and set his focus on making this time erase any other before him. His hand slowly skimmed the flatness of her belly as he positioned her and then took hold of her breast.
Kneading it, he ordered, “Paisy, baby, come on my lips!”
His mouth took hold then, forcefully licking her with a determined purpose. Paisley’s eyes rolled back, as moans escaped her that she didn’t even recognise. She tried to put her hand down to hold him to her, but he slammed it to the bed.
“My terms, my rules! Focus, baby, focus on the softness of my tongue,” he ordered, as she began breathing heavily. His bottom lip lowered, and for a moment he was darting in and out of her vagina with a vibrating moan. Paisley could feel the constricting of her muscles as they tightened and built of their own free will.
He returned his focus to her clit then, twisting it in repetitive circles and then sucking it in between his own soft lips.
“Paisley, ye better listen to me!” he cautioned softly, taking breaks only to let his orders be heard. “Ye’ve got ten seconds to come with my tongue or I’m going to spank yer sweet little cunny and command it myself.”
His words nearly undid her, as she felt the smooth flesh lap steadily.
It didn’t hurt that she believed he would do it. He’d lick it or slap it out of her one way or another. Jesus, fuck!
“One!” he sighed.
Feeling her tremors start, he squeezed her nipple. Letting her feel the enjoyment he alone could give her.
Paisley tried to focus, tried to hang on to the pleasure that was right on the edge of her bliss.
His voice was like a soft melody she hated to end.
She heard James Bay’s throaty voice, singing her into another world as she built closer. It helped that she hadn’t felt the tickle of a man’s mouth in over a year.
“Four! Almost there, love.”
It wasn’t a question.
It was as if he could feel her about to splinter from the inside out.
He was thoroughly enjoying himself.
Simon actually wasn’t sure what he was hoping for more. Her defiance meant that he could bend her will to him, but her submission would be a sweet victory. Was it possible to have this kind of chemistry with someone who was a virtual stranger?
Yes! Sweet Jesus! That was the magical word.
When his mouth returned, her entire body convulsed around him and her cream bathed his lips. Arching up, her cry rippled through the air, but Simon didn’t immediately stop. Lapping her nearly dry, he was hypnotised by the screams she made for him and was hell bent on causing more.
Before she could come down from the climax, he moved them up onto the bed together. His face was smirking, as he claimed her mouth and carved himself between her trembling thighs.
“Open for me, baby!” he ordered.
She didn’t hesitate.
Paisley had never felt this kind of animal attraction. It was so raw and uninhibited. She was aroused at the taste of herself on his face and licked him unapologetically. He anchored her arms above her head with his own and thrust himself finally far inside the lips he had been kissing seconds earlier.
The heat tripled her senses, making the intensity of the moment greater. He was pooling already with sweat, and her body sheened as well.
Her cunt sucked him in, suctioning him to her with a tight squeeze of need. Her head fell to the side, lost in the feelings he was creating. Her ass was on fire as it rubbed against the roughness of the quilt. She was so hot she felt like she was about to combust.
Her cunt was horny and greedily aching for another orgasm like he had just given her. Her nipples were so hard they almost felt like they were going to pop off, as he lowered his mouth and began to suckle.
Biting his ear playfully, she whispered, “Let me ride you.”
His shock at her words was matched only when she grabbed his ass. Her legs were spread as far as they could go as his thrusting stopped, and he flipped her upright on top of him.
That didn’t seem to be a request any breathing male denied.
Simon watched the jiggle of her chest, as she slowly rose and then sank down his shaft.
Jesus, sweet Christ!
His hands went to her hips, as he guided her back and forth, but she had a precise handle on the process. Licking a finger, she moved it down her body slowly, keeping eye contact with him. He followed it as it went lower, down over the swell of her breast and all the way down to the crease of her V. An appreciative smile spread across his face, as his cock bucked inside of her. Paisley smirked naughtily back, before closing her eyes and trying to focus on her own pleasure.
Her thighs were strong as she rode him and fingered herself before his hungry gaze. Simon reached up his hands to squeeze the swell of her breasts, as he felt his pre-cum entering her. Her grinding on his cock made his balls tighten, urging for the release he had been thus far denying them.
Without warning he moved her slippery body back below him and retook control. When he felt his seed start, he wanted to make sure he was in complete control of her.
Grabbing one thigh from behind, he elevated her leg, giving him deeper penetration. “Sweetheart, I’m about to come and I want to feel yer lips tighten when I explode,” he said, slightly out of breath.
The way he talked dirty to her was helping her focus.
His voice was like warm honey washing over a sore throat. “Are ye nearly there, sweet?”
Paisley was, she met him thrust for thrust and dragged his mouth back for another playful kiss.
“Um hum!” she moaned, closing her eyes.
Simon’s large hand released her leg; rolling her quickly to the side, he brought his palm down hard on her backside.
“Is that how ye answer me, love?” he asked hoarsely. Her eyes sprang open in surprise. She didn’t think they were playing this game, now.
“Yes, sir. I’m going to come, sir!” she cried, as he thrusted up again and stilled, allowing his seed to pour out. A soft curse escaped his lips, as his face contorted in a mix of expressions while his cock emptied inside her.
This woman was his wife.
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