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In Loving Memory Pt. 07

Post #1

Claire opened her mouth, a thousand questions in her mind and on her tongue. But it was not to be. His mouth covered hers. His tongue plunged deeply inside her mouth once more. It challenged her own, fencing. His expertise at this game of sword play belied His words.

It brought to life needs that she had tried to deny, to bury with him. But James was igniting them all. Sending her body up in the proverbial flames. She tried to fight it. Deny her needs. But it was futile. She needed what she needed. Especially from Him.

She leaned into His embrace. Her tongue sought His out this time. Challenged Him.

The loud clap of His sound blow to her bare bottom brought her up short. She froze. Her nipples that were already eraser hard, tightened even more. Harder than diamonds now as they scraped against His chest. Her eyes flew open as her mouth formed an almost perfect 'O.' Her whole body strummed, right on the edge of a release. The pleasure He gave her was mind blowing enough. But combined with the pain it was the one-two punch of a World's Heavy Weight Champion.

She looked up and saw the recognition in His handsome face. "For a good little sub, you are sure good at trying to weasel out of your punishments, Claire." His face split with an even wider grin. The playful little boy danced in the depths of His grey-green eyes. "I promised you twenty-five with my belt. So that does not count. Consider it a warm up if you like."

He stood up slowly, until once more she was face-to-crotch with the very real evidence of His arousal. "I think we got as far as you offering me the belt like a good girl. So now finish what you started earlier. Undress. Me."

Claire froze at His words. How many times had she fantasized about this very thing? Undressing James like unwrapping a present on Christmas morning. She willed her fingers to obey. They shook as they fumbled with the button on His jeans but the pressure behind it aided her task. But that same pressure impeded her next task. The zipper seemed to drag on endlessly. She could hear each tooth give way as it struggled like a dam to hold back flood waters. But in the end it was fighting a losing battle just as she had been in trying to deny the control This Man held over her.

She had barely slipped her hands inside the sides of His jeans when His cock burst forth, practically hitting her in the face. She was hypnotized. It had been eight years. Eight incredibly long years. So many mistakes. So much pain. Since He had sent her that pic of His cock.

But her reaction to the reality of it was stronger than it had been then. She licked her bottom lip. Her hand was incredibly steady as it reached up and wrapped about its girth. She began to pump slowly up and down its length. Her tongue snaked out further as she bent forward.

But He stopped her. Strong fingers in her hair tugged her back. His head was back. His eyes were closed. His breathing ragged. She could watch His heart beat quickly bouncing in His cock. He was as aroused as she was...and that kind of feminine power felt good. Damn good! It had been too long since she felt it.

His eyes came open. He bit His lower lip as he tugged harder at her hair, drawing her back further. "You are doing it again, sweetheart. Trying to weasel out of your punishment. Ten more for that."

He pulled her slowly up His body then. Her heart stopped at the feel of His heated flesh against hers. She had thought she would be mortified, being naked around Him. But it was Him. She had been naked with Him for eight years in far more important ways than this.

When she stood up fully, she did not even reach His chin. His arm placed about her waist made her feel safe. It was a new sensation. He drew her slowly to the edge of the bed. He sat down but did not pull her down with Him.

She frowned when she saw the belt in His hand. Not because she wanted to avoid her punishment as He accused. He was right; she craved pain from Him as much as she craved pleasure. She frowned because she did not remember Him taking it from her hand. Let alone holding it levent escort all this time. All this time? What were mere moments versus eight years?

"Thirty-five with My belt, Claire?" His voice wrapped about her as she nodded her head. He stared into her eyes, "Why are you being punished?"

She shook her head, coming fully awake for a moment. She thought back. It was just this morning. Just a couple of hours ago. But it seemed another life time. She honestly could not remember. She dropped her head and shook it from side to side in embarrassment.

"Look. At. Me." She obeyed instantly though she felt her skin heat with a blush at her lack of recall.

"Good girl," He said though she was not certain what she had done to deserve His praise. "Punishment is not effective if you don't know why you are being punished. Twenty-five for being mouthy in the car. 'Or what?' is not the proper way to address your Dom." He chuckled again, "Or even a good comeback but that is beside the point. The other ten are for trying to distract me and delay your punishment."

"But I wasn't. Honestly." She protested.

He lifted His brow and met her gaze. "You want twenty-five more for arguing with me?"

She opened her mouth but closed it quickly. He was right. Not about delaying her punishment but about arguing with Him. She needed this discipline. She had craved firm boundaries for a long time. Almost the full five years she was with him. He had said that she was a big girl, did not need him to tell her what to do. But the truth was that he simply could not be bothered. He wanted the benefits of being her master with none of the responsibility. Had she known that all along? Probably.

"Tell me what caused you to frown just then," He commanded.

She wanted to sink into the sea of white carpet again. Did not want to reveal her stupidity to Him. But she knew she had to. "I was thinking that he did not punish me because he wanted all the privileges of being a master and none of the responsibilities."

He nodded His head and took a long breath. "So why did you stay, Claire?"

She really wanted to sink through the carpet, the floor and deep into the earth at His question. "I don't know. I made a commitment to the man. I felt I ought to keep it. He did not have anyone else really. And I cared for him. No one should die alone."

He stood up. His fingers under her chin, forced her eyes to meet His then. "Do you hear yourself, Claire? He had family. He had his wife and kids. If they were around when he died they would have wanted to be there when he was alive. The man pushed them away. Just like he did you. The truth behind all those pretty words is that you stayed because you were sorry for him. Pity, Claire. Five years of pity fucks. Do you think that was any more to the sorry bastard than what he did to you?"

His words hit her hard; another knockout blow. But He was right. She had stayed for all the wrong reasons. Stayed with the wrong man for the wrong reasons for five years.

"Stop. It. Now," His voice broke through the storm clouds of her mind. "Stop blaming yourself. We cannot change the past, Claire. Only learn from it. And part of that process is punishment. Stop trying to delay. Again."

He sat back down and tugged gently on her arm. She fell and landed across His lap. Her bottom over His knees and her hands on the soft carpet at His feet. "You will count. If you lose your place we start over. At one. Am I understood, Claire?"

"Yes, Sir," she whispered over the pounding of her heart.

The sound of leather whizzing through the silent air was louder even than the pounding of her heart. The two combined to make music all their own. She jumped a bit as the belt connected with her bare bum. It had been a long time. Too long. Since she felt the release of pure pain. She took it in. Inhaled it like the scent of roses on a spring morning.

The next blow fell rapidly in succession. And another. And another. She got lost in their rhythm. Lost in the music. Then they stopped as mecidiyeköy escort suddenly as they had begun. She moaned a bit, whimpered in need.

"Dammit woman. I said count."

She chuckled at her gaff. "Yes, Sir. What number was that?"

"Don't work like that sweetheart. I said we start over and we start over," He replied.

She sighed. She could definitely live with that. Her mind sought that space. That place where she was completely free. Where she connected with the pain. And with Him.

She smiled as the next one landed firmly across both cheeks. "One."

"Two," His rhythm was so intense that the numbers flowed. One after another. "Three. Four. Five. Six." She barely had time to catch her breath, did not really. "Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten." Each blow of the leather blended with the next.

"Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen." She was almost certain that He snuck a couple of extras in there. His arm was much faster than her mouth. She could not think that fast. Let alone process them and count aloud.

She felt the fire burning in her practically virgin bottom. It had been so long since she had any real punishment. Any real pain that she craved it. "Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty."

"Twenty-one." She began but she was certain that He had gotten in at least two additional blows before she could open her mouth. In desperation, she said "Two. Three. Four. Five." Her bottom was on fire now. Flames licked at her skin. The muscles beneath ached. Taut as they awaited the next blow.

She waited. And waited. And waited. She started to run around. Tried to twist around to see Him. But His hand on the small of her back stilled any movement.

"Do. Not. Move," He commanded. She could not have disobeyed the throaty, deep sound of His voice if she wanted to.

She nodded her head and pain shot through her bottom. The nerve endings there seemed linked directly to the bundle between her legs. Her nipples brushed against the hairs on His leg and she moaned aloud.

"You smell incredible," she heard His throaty whisper but was beyond comprehending. "Spread your legs, Claire."

They dropped open without thought. Her movement was so sudden that she might have fallen from His lap but for His hand on her back, holding her firmly in place. "How long, Claire?"

Her mind sought an explanation, an answer, some meaning behind His words. But the burn in her bottom was the only thing that registered. That and the aching need between her legs.

"How long since you came?" He demanded.

She shook her head as she tried to remember. "I'm not sure. A year. Maybe more."

"FUCK!" the expletive exploded like a nuclear bomb. "What do you mean? A year...maybe longer? I thought that the bastard was at least capable of giving you that. I thought the two of you fucked."

Claire's cheeks matched her bottom. She was glad that she could not see Him as she stammered out her explanation. "At first. But as things got worse. As he got sicker. Well..."

"That is still no excuse, Claire. Even if his fucking cock wasn't working anymore. There are other ways. He could have, should have still seen to your needs. Or you could have."

She was mortified when He turned her to over. She lay across His lap. Her neck ached from the odd angle as she stared up into those grey-green pools. "You fucking know how hard we had to fight to get your orgasms back after that other bastard got in your head. What were you thinking?"

She shook her head, "It wasn't like that. I could if I wanted to. I just didn't..." Her voice trailed off as she realised how lame her excuses sounded, even to her own ears. How could she make Him understand?

"Didn't what, Claire? Didn't want to? Then why does this whole fucking room smell of you? Your need?" His hands caressed her inner thighs and she arched up to meet His touch. Her bum protested at the sudden movement. Its pain put her right on the edge of the release that she had been denying herself for so long.

She closed her eyes and turned her kağıthane escort head away. "Look. At. Me." He demanded. She shook her head. Squeezed her eyes shut tighter.

"Look at me, Claire," His voice was quieter. Almost a plea. It was more than she could resist.

She could barely see His beautiful face through the tears. "Why?" He asked.

She shook her head. "Like I said before. I am tired, so fucking tired of being nothing more than a whore. Tired of having my body used against me," she whispered.

He shook His head. "Oh, sweetheart. The problem was never you. The problem was the assholes you kept choosing. Can't you see that?" He wrapped His strong arms about her. He bent a placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"They gave you what they could. But they weren't worthy of you. Of the love you gave them." He sighed, "None of us probably are. You always give too much. You give your everything, Claire. You hold nothing back. And in the end, others just take."

"Not you," she whispered as she caressed His cheek.

"Yes, me too, Claire. Look around you. I owe all this to you. Your faith in me. Just meeting you changed my whole fucking life. And still I could not find the strength to come to you. Knowing you needed me I could not do it."

"You were always there when I needed you, James. Always helped," she soothed.

He shook His head in denial. "Stop it, Claire. Stop making excuses for me the way you always made excuses for them. You deserve better. Better than a coward who hid away from the one person he wanted the most."

"But you came in the end. I never thought you would, you know. But you did. That has to mean something?"

He stared into her eyes for several long moments, "You know I might hurt you too? As much as I wish I could promise you the love and forever that you deserve, I can't. I don't want to think that I might be using you too, but I don't know. I just don't know if I have the strength to be the man you think I am. The man you need."

Claire heard the pain and insecurity in each word, every syllable. It ate at her soul. Long ago she had faced the mirror into her own heart. She was a giver, a nurturer, a true submissive. She gave completely of herself just as He had accused. And through that giving she comforted others. She healed them. Perhaps not his body that had betrayed him. But his soul. She gave of hers so that others could live.

And He was right. She got very little in return. It was why she was so tired. Each piece of her heart, her soul, that she gave away cost her so much. She was used up. She had retreated because she was not certain there was anything left to give.

Until she had looked into those grey-green eyes and seen her destiny. She knew that He meant every word. Knew that what He said was true. But it did not matter. There was one piece of her left. The piece that had always been His.

And if He took that piece and left, she would survive. She always had. But He needed it. Needed Her. "I know, James. And it doesn't matter."

He shook His head, "Why, Claire? What the fuck do I matter? Why have you always been there? Why are you willing to put yourself through this shit again? Feel used by another man?"

She smiled up into those eyes. Her hands framed His face. She held Him still as she pressed a long kiss to His lips. "Because I love you, James. I always have. And I always will. No matter what does or does not happen after this. My love is the only thing I have to give. And I chose to do so freely. Without strings."

Silence. Sometimes more was said by the silence than words could ever convey. They stayed like that for several long moments. Each lost in their own thoughts. She watched Him battle. He did not even realise but the very fact that He knew, that He recognised how much this cost her, that He hesitated, set Him apart from all the others.

He would never hurt her. Could never. Not really. Even if He left. If this was all they ever had. It would be enough. More than she had ever thought possible. More than she had ever dared to hope or dream about. Something that was nothing more than a simple fantasy that she held close to her heart when days were darkest and nights longest.

"So I thought you said thirty-five. And I only counted twenty-five. Did you change your mind? Your arm too tired to finish what you started?"
05-15-2024, at 06:31 PM

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