Olivia
The clock on the bedside table reads 12:46 am.
A soft pattering of rain tinkles against the window, a low beat to fill the silence.
In the darkness, she lies stretched out on the bed, her delicate wrists red and raw from pulling against the restraints, her ankles much the same. At present, she lies on her face, her body rigid, face turned away from me.
It hurts me to see her this way, though I know I can't allow the situation to change until she releases. She has been there for over an hour and a part of me is burning with disappointment, my patience bare and thin.
But I am a mother.
I am a caretaker.
My responsibilities lie far beyond myself and at the moment, her well being and state of mind are my utmost concern.
Ten minutes have passed since I took a seat in the chair several feet away from her. I'm allowing her to think, allowing myself to breath.
My palm still burns, red and tingling.
She took two dozens spankings before she burst out into an angry tirade, jarring against the bed and restraints like a fish caught on a hook. Though she cried, we're far from accomplishing what I set out to do. In fact, we're quite the opposite.
Times like this remind me that Amanda's control issues still guide her. She's angry because she didn't ask for this; because I ordered her to strip and bend over. She's angry because she doesn't see the need for this, but I do. Self care and soul searching are never easy tasks and I've learned that Amanda often waits to come to me until she's all but bursting and spiraling. She needs to learn to trust me even when she can't understand my actions immediately. She needs to let me take care of her before the discomfort becomes unbearable.
So I wait.
I watch her try to remain rigid, but I can see the slightest squirm working through her arms and legs. Her legs are clenched together, her bare, reddened ass taut. She refuses to look at me.
A second glance at the clock tells me that fifteen minutes have passed now.
I massage my right palm and stretch out my fingers as the pulsing burn begins to recede. I know she must still be aching.
Come on, Amanda...Just let go…
As if she hears my thoughts, she huffs out a breath loud enough for me to note the rebellion lacing her exhale.
I clench my jaw and lower my eyes from her, working to extend my patience a little further. This could potentially be a very long night and I've most certainly dealt with more consternating situations. I've dealt with a 2 year old on a sugar rush after a 16 hour shift….This should be nothing to me…. But it's never nothing with the person you love….
I lift my eyes, calming the waves of frustration in my chest.
"Look at me." I order, softly.
She quiets, her body going slack for a moment. Her ribcage expands sharply but she doesn't turn her head.
I rise from the chair and walk slowly towards her.
My hand itches to punish her again, but I gather my self control. I can't act out of irritation or frustration, even if it is my first instinct. I need to give her what she needs, whether it's what she wants or not.
"Look at me, Amanda." I murmur once more, sitting down at the edge of the bed.
I reach out to touch her back, petting over soft strands of golden hair tangled between her shoulder blades. I can feel the perspiration lining her skin, beading across her spine with the exertion of fighting me. She stiffens beneath my fingers but I don't allow it to have too much affect on me. Every action she makes is intentional, and I won't allow her to manipulate me into pitying her.
"If you don't look at me, I'll go straight to the belt."
The threat makes her whimper quietly and finally, her head shifts, her face turning towards me. Her cheeks are flushed and shining with tears and perspiration. Her blue eyes are sharp in the low lighting, standing out against the red rimming her lids. Her jaw is clenched but her chin and lips tremble.
I brush her bangs back from her eyes, feeling how hot her forehead is from her attempts to escape the restraints and the lick of my hand.
"You're not getting up from this bed until you release." I tell her softly.
Her glistening eyes dart away from mine, her brows drawing together.
"I don't need to. I told you." She returns, her tone raspy but insistent.
"You need to learn to trust me further than your own desires." I say, ignoring her denial. "You trust me to take care of you but only at your own say so."
"Because it's my body."
She whips her head away from me, but I don't miss the angry, confused tears glazing her eyes. It pains my heart sharply but it doesn't deter me.
"You have a safe word." I remind her.
She stares at the opposite wall, reticent and rigid. I give her half a minute to contemplate her actions before I turn away, my gentle touch slipping from her back. I've given her enough time to think about whether she wants to trust me or whether she wants to rebel. I've even given her time to think about if she wants to end the evening.
"Ok, enough is enough." I say, rubbing my palms over my knees before pushing up from the bed.
Her hesitant gaze flashes back to me as I loom over her and begin to quickly unbutton my shirt. The material is heavy against my heated flesh and I want her to realize how deeply I'm committed to this evening. She won't be leaving this room until she's bruised and broken.
She watches me, blinking quickly from beneath a fringe of blonde hair, and when I yank my shirt off my shoulders and drag it off my arms, I can see her begin to squirm against the restraints. Her light brows furrow, her lips trembling. She knows what's coming.
I turn away from her, bolstering authority into my stance as I cross to the dresser. The mirror hanging above it reflects my darkened, austere expression back at me, the intensity in my own eyes almost too sharp to look at and I glance away. My gaze falls to the tool on the dresser top.
I drag my fingers slowly over the handle of the paddle, the wood smooth against my skin. My grip around it sears determination into my bloodstream.
When I glance up at the mirror again, I can see her staring at me, her eyes blinking rapidly against a sheen of tears.
"Olivia, please…" She whines, pulling against her bindings once more. The head of the bed rattles with her efforts but I have made more than certain that she can't break free.
I drag the paddle from the dresser and turn towards her, fixing her with sharp gaze as I cross back towards her.
She pants loudly, digging her face into the pillow to hide the flush on her cheeks and the tears in her eyes. I don't want her to hide those things from me. I don't want her to be ashamed and I have reinforced that fact many times, but still I see the same humiliation in her gaze, even in the safety of my lap.
I reach the edge of the bed and stand over her squirming body, waiting out her weak, vain fighting.
"Liv, please…." She groans long into the pillow, her tone muffled.
"Please, what?" I encourage.
Even if I won't acquiesce to what she wants, I still desire her every thought. Every confession she spills from her cherry lips is one step closer to her complete and utter trust.
She huffs against the pillow, her body arching and twisting off in the bed in agony, but the action only serves to lift her reddened ass closer to me.
I lean in, pushing one knee onto the bed just beneath her hips to keep them elevated. I lay the flat of the paddle against her flesh, rubbing the rough surface over her already throbbing flesh.
"Tell me." I murmur. "Tell me what you think you want."
I feel her stomach clenching and quivering against my thigh and she groans once more.
"I don't want it." She whispers from between clenched teeth.
"I know." I return, lifting my other hand to touch her back, running my fingers over the dip of her spine.
"Please, Liv." She begs, her voice thick.
"I told you you're not getting up from this bed." I remind her firmly, pressing the paddle harder against her.
"Fuck, please…" Her pleas dwindle as she tucks her face deeper into the pillow. "Please, it hurts so much…"
"That's the point." I tell her, softly. "And it's going to keep hurting until you accept it."
She releases a low growl, her feet kicking against the restraints. Her body nearly flips off my leg and I grab her hip, pulling her close in a sharp, firm motion.
"No, no -" She begins to protest, but I cut her off quickly with a single, hard spanking.
The sound of it cracks through the air and she gasps, her body seizing against me. A cry filters from between her lips as the red blooms across her buttocks.
Squeezing her hip, I hold her steady to punish her once more. This time, I don't let her cry and thrash afterwards. I bring the paddle down again sharply, burning five spankings into her flesh one after the other.
She must learn that I can't always coddle her. I cannot let her continuously stray to her comfort zone, never trusting me to take her to where she needs to be. Her desires mean so much to me, but her emotional well being means more.
She's shocked, her body rigid in pain by the time the fifth spanking falls. I can hear her releasing choked, halting pants and I slide my hand from her back to one aching buttock. I massage the flesh slowly in my fingers, listening to her gasp and grope for control.
"You can't always have what you want, Amanda." I murmur quietly.
She begins to sniffle, her sides expanding sharply against me and I hope for a moment that she might have reached her breaking point, but the silence stretches.
I rub her back and punished ass, watching the back of her head, listening for her repentant sobs, but I'm greeted by angry sniffles and nothing more. She knows what I need to hear and she purposefully gives me this rebellious display.
"You're making me do this, Amanda." I say at last, my voice stiff with disappointment.
I want her trust and devotion so deeply that it is like an aching cavern inside of me. The constant desire is consuming, and her refusal devastating.
I reassert my grip on her hip and she whines, attempting to pull away from me, but I force her back. I hardly wait to have her firmly in place before I crack the paddle down.
"Nnngggg…." She groans, arching against me.
I let the burn between each one last longer than before. I let the seconds be filled with her moans and protests, let her feel each punishment as it's own decisive sting.
She begins to sob, her tone filled with distraught frustration as she struggles against me, her bare feet kicking back and forth against the sheets. Her flailing causes me to nearly lose my grip on her and I grit my teeth, flexing my fingers about the handle of the paddle.
My palms are sweating, my entire body awash in the heat of the moment - both frustrated and aroused. My heart slams against my ribs to the tune of my desire, the sound of my body screaming for her submission. Her unyielding efforts to escape me only burns hotter need into my bloodstream, setting my sex afire between my legs. I throb so wantonly for her that tears prick my eyes.
Finally, I pull my thigh from beneath her and reassert the pressure of it to her lower back, pinning her to the mattress with the weight of my aching body.
We're both panting, loud raspy breaths that are almost one as I lean over her, bracing my free hand on her hip. I feel her buck beneath me, but my weight and my strength overpowers her petite body.
Gripping her hip with fingers that desperately want to tremble, I swallow against the dryness of my tongue to reprimand her.
"You need to stop fighting, Amanda."
"Fuck you…" She moans, lapsing against the sheets.
"That's not a safeword." I pant, huskily, tossing a glance at the back of her disheveled head.
"Fuck. You." She hisses again through clenched teeth, igniting another fiery path of indignation across my chest.
I turn back to her taut ass, squeezing the paddle hard enough to bleach my knuckles.
Crack!
I punish her hard without remorse, dragging a low moan from her lips. My chest aches from her resistance and her spiteful words and I want her to know I'm disappointed.
Loosening the restraint of my hand, I give her the full strength of my arm, spanking her half a dozen times before she breaks into disjointed, angry epitaphs once more.
"Fuck you, fuck you so hard…" She curses, before her swearing dwindles into raspy pants. Her legs kick weakly as she buries her face in the pillow.
"You want me to get the belt?" I ask, evenly, glancing back at her blonde head once more.
I press the paddle against one inflamed cheek, warning her of the encroaching punishment. When she doesn't reply, I swat her hard, jarring her flesh with the impact.
I realize now that this isn't going to be a simple, one night affair. I'm going to have to break through the brick wall of her resistance before I can care for the tender creature residing behind the layers upon layers of emotional armor. But I will not be deterred.
"Do you want the the belt?" I repeat.
Silence.
She barely even moves.
I give her exactly ten seconds to answer me before I strike her again, three times in quick succession before she finally cries out.
"No, no… I don't!" She breathes, vehemently, giving a sharp kick against the restraints.
"Good." I murmur, "Don't make me paddle you again just for not answering me."
"Whatever." She grinds out, a tremble lying just beneath the layer of sarcasm.
But I don't care whether this is bravado or not. She's hiding from me again, in the worst possible way. All she has to do is say her safeword, but instead she chooses to disrespect me with hasty curses and flippant disregard.
"Fine." I mutter, removing my knee from her back.
Her head lifts as I toss the paddle to the edge of the bed. Her shocked eyes are glossed over, dark makeup smeared about her lids. Strands of hair are matted to her flushed, tearstained cheeks, but I force myself not to be swayed by her pathetic appearance. There will be a time when I can take her into my arms and care for her, but now is not the time.
Pinning her with a dark, even stare, I reach down to quickly unbuckle the belt at my hips. Her eyes dart from my gaze to the motion of my hands and I see the emotion already beginning to twist her mouth and brows.
"But, Liv…" She whines, her watery blue eyes meeting mine again.
"Don't." I shake my head, beginning to pull the belt from the loops.
"Please…" Her voice cracks into a full on plea, a tear spilling her cheek quickly.
Taking the buckle in hand, I wrap the smooth leather about my knuckles and stretch the length out between my hands, eliciting a sharp crack.
She flinches, a cry jumping to her lips. Her eyes race from the belt to my gaze and then back again, and I know she's searching for some fallacy in the determination of my actions. She's looking for some way to manipulate my pity, but that only tells me that she is still far from release.
"Please, I said I didn't want it." She cries, her arms straining.
Her panicked gaze follows the movements of the belt in my hand, but I know she's only desperate because she wants to escape the punishment of the belt, not because she's ready to submit.
"Don't speak." I order, stepping forward to drape the belt across her quivering ass. "I don't want to hear it unless it's your safe word."
I can see the tears welling quickly in her eyes before she turns her face away again, and it hurts me to know that she's putting herself through this for the sake of her ego.
I have brought her to the brink of release with much less than this before. Once, she even invaded my office, crying and desperate, trembling and falling over herself to lie across my lap. I didn't even have to spank her bare skin to initiate her complete collapse. Just the reassurance of my palm striking her had been enough, but now she would rather take a whipping than trust me.
I wanted so much for this evening to be a gentle but firm guidance to relief, but now I'm forced to use this discipline as an actual punishment.
I drag the belt back, squeezing the buckle in one hand and the midsection of leather in the other. The lip dangles from my fist as I pull the buckle end tight around my hand.
"I'm going to count," I say in a low tone, "so you'll remember how many spankings you thought being disrespectful was worth the next time you think it's appropriate."
"Olivia, please…" She sobs in a muffled tone into the pillow.
The miserable notes of her pleading hardly sway me. In fact, I'm even more peeved because I ordered her not to speak.
"I told you not to open your mouth." I say, my tone dipping into the low gravel of displeasure.
She sobs before her face plunges deeper into the pillow, muffling desperate then angry cries as she wavers between repentance and rebellion.
I don't delay any longer.
I adjust my position next to the bed, testing the angle of my strike with a soft slap of the leather against her ass. She jerks despite the most gentle motion she's received tonight, but I don't intend to follow it with anything less than harsh, burning discipline.
The first lick makes her entire body go rigid as the crack of it resonates across my ears and the impact that shudders through my hands cuts straight to my aching core.
She teeters on the edge of pain before she releases a cry in burst of emotion, her body sinking into the sheets. Her sides expand sharply and I can hear her panting.
"One." I murmur, squeezing my perspiring palms about the leather.
A half second passes and I can see her tensing in apprehension, her arms and legs quivering. Her ass is completely red and swollen already and the beautiful yet devastating sight of it nearly takes the air directly from my throat.
I need her submission just as much as she needs my domination.
Drawing back the belt, I let her tremble in sharp anticipation for a moment longer before I strike her, cracking the length of leather across her backside.
"Two… " I breathe, the thickness of arousal clogging my throat.
She arches into the bed, and I can hear her desperately trying to choke down sobs, striving to mask her reactions when all I want is to gorge my ravenous body upon them. The hunger inside me roars at even her slightest quiver or cry.
My hands tremble around the belt and I clench them sharply, driving my need into the brutal lash of the belt.
Crack! The belt curls across her burning flesh.
"Three." I rasp, my breath rattling rapidly from my lungs.
God, how I wish I could turn her over and spread her legs apart. How I wish I could plunge my fingers into her sweet, gushing pussy or suck the wetness from her lips straight to mouth…. But this moment is not for me to take. No matter how sick I feel with the force of this desire, my role is her protector first and her lover second.
Reigning myself in, I whittle my focus down to the precision of the belting and the buck and clench of her body. She needs to feel control from me, not an ounce of recklessness.
Four, five, six, seven… The words fall from my lips, barely rising above the pound of blood in my ears.
She stretches, arches, and twists against her bonds, her ass rising up to greet the belt before dipping back sharply, her choked, wavering cries winding deep into my soul like some kind of sweet, forbidden liquor.
Her flesh blossoms with lilac and indigo bruising before her cries begin to form words.
"God, please….please…."
Her face is buried between her arms, her hands clenched into tight fists above her head. The rest of her body is just as taut.
Pleasure thrums through me at how well she's taken it so far but her pleading draws me back to a level headspace, and I have to blink back the haze of desire that's clouded my vision. I ordered her not to speak, to take the consequences of disrespect in silence.
I lower the belt and lean on one knee at the edge of the bed in order to bend over her trembling body.
"I told you not to speak." I whisper in her ear, lifting one hand to run my fingers through her hair.
I drag sweat soaked strands away from her temple and cheek, tucking them behind her ear. Her eyes glance over at me quickly and I can see how red and swollen her eyes are. She sniffles softly.
"Please…" The whimper emits in a small whine.
"I need to hear your safe word if you need to stop." I murmur, leaning in to kiss her hot flesh at her temple.
Even after sweating and exerting herself strenuously for the last hour, she still smells like a sweet piece of heaven.
I can hear her breathing rapidly, haltingly when the soft sobs still threaten.
"I know you don't like to give up." I whisper, gently, "But I want you to seriously consider your limits because I can be far from done if you continue like this."
She sniffs sharply and turns her head face away from my mouth, tempting me to lick her with the belt again. I stay my hand, however, knowing that it will take more than a moment for Amanda to give up.
Finally, she lays her head against the pillow.
"Peaches." She mutters, her tone utterly grudging, but I can hear the tremor lying behind layers of cynicism.
"Okay…" I murmur, tossing the belt to the ground beside the bed. "For tonight…"
She visibly relaxes against the bed, but I strain to hide my disappointment. We hardly achieved what I started off to accomplish but I console myself with the fact that tomorrow is a new day.
I lean back and begin to untie her from the headboard. Her slender wrists are red and raw from fighting the restraints and I take them in my hands and impart a kiss to each one before sliding away to her ankles.
When she's loose, I slide one hand up the back of her leg, slowing as I reach her inner thigh. I squeeze the warm flesh and I hear her breathe sharply. Her legs inch apart, allowing me to slip my fingers up to the heat at her center.
My exhale catches as I feel her wetness slicking her thighs and I brace my other hand on the bed as I press my eyes shut. Control dances on the fringes of my mind, teasing me and I take several long breaths to still the rampant desire plowing through me.
When I open my eyes, I reach determined fingers up between her legs.
She won't like me after this, but it's what needs to be done in order to break her.
I drag my fingers up against her swollen, dripping labia and she parts easily to the pressure. I hear her gasp as two of my fingers probe her entrance, seeking against the clench of her body. My own body pounds relentlessly and I can even feel pre-orgasmic tremors clinching me tight. I breath out, holding onto my control with a vice grip as my fingers sink into her. She's like velvet around my digits, so hot and unbelievably wet.
"Ohhh…." She shudders against the bed, her hips arching back slightly against me.
"You're not going to come." I whisper lowly as I draw my fingers back in an achingly, slow thrust.
"Wh-what?" She pants, sounding delirious with pleasure.
I seat my fingers deeply into her with short, firm motion causing her thighs to tense around my hand and a moan to shudder from her mouth.
"You're not going to come." I repeat, slowly. "And you're not to even think about touching yourself when you're alone."
"Olivia…" Her voice is barely a whine.
"Don't argue." I murmur.
I fuck my fingers into her at a slow pace, listening to her wetness gush from her against the motions of my hand. I can feel her quiver inside, but I'm not giving her nearly enough for her to explode.
She moans, pressing her face to the pillow. Her hips wriggle against my hand, and I know it must be torture for her to lie here and feel my hand inside her without the relief of impending orgasm, but that is the point. If I wanted her to be comfortable, I would have laid the belt down earlier, gathered her in my arms and then given her what her body desires most.
"Ending tonight does not mean that this is over." I tell her, softly. "I'm going to take care of you, but tomorrow… I won't hesitate to drag you back in here."
She stills, her whimpers ceasing at my threats.
I slide my hand from her body and ease up onto the edge of the bed. She doesn't move when I sit down next to her and rather turns her face more sharply away from me.
"Look at me." I order in a gentle, non abrasive tone.
She hesitates but finally shifts, rolling onto her side, facing me. Her beautiful, tearstained face comes into full view, her cobalt eyes staring up at me sharply like fresh cut rock.
"Amanda…" I whisper her name, infusing the passion she makes me crazy with into each syllable.
I lean down, pressing a kiss to her forehead and her cheek and jawbone.
"Your trust….I want it so much… I'm not even sure you understand." I murmur.
She doesn't reply, but I don't hold it against her. I know she'll need time to come down from this, and I will be there with her to the end.