Chapter 33

Grace

My body spoke. It didn't feel like my mind had anything to do with it.

"Please, sir… please… give me my last swat!"

Cal's hand came back down on my back. I felt it move with the shifting of his weight, in a sort of tiny ritual that had already become entirely too familiar—and yet…

And yet I… I love it. I love him.

What the fuck? How could I possibly have just realized I loved the man who had raised his awful instrument of correction and who I knew must have already started to bring it down? And was that better or worse than realizing, the previous instant, that I loved it: that, somehow, I loved getting paddled by the man who had taken me in hand.

Then I heard it, and I felt it, full across my bottom. I let out a full-throated scream as the agony built, and then as it started to fade I wondered with a hot blush if Cal's neighbors could hear how severe a lesson he was administering to his future bride. They would try to figure out what I had done to deserve the paddle, discuss amongst themselves what a handful Cal had taken on… whether I would have to bend over the bed every night and what would happen when the paddle had finished its work and I had sobbed out my penitence.

It landed on the bed, in front of me and off to the side. I looked wide-eyed at the long blade with the holes that made it travel faster through the air so it would hurt more when it made contact with a naughty girl's bare bottom.

For a moment I couldn't figure it out: how could the paddle be there, when the paddle belonged to Cal, and Cal still stood behind me. It took me a weird, confusing few seconds to understand that although his right and responsibility to punish me when I misbehaved might be an essential part of who he was, for me, he could put the horrible paddle wherever he wanted.

Then his hands made the puzzle, such as it was, completely clear. They took possession of my body, the left one holding me in place and the right seizing me between my thighs so that all the pain seemed lost in my own need to belong to him.

I cried out. I screamed, really, just as loudly as I had screamed while he paddled me, but now instead of making the pain better, the sound—the feeling of it inside my body and then echoing off the bedroom walls, and the sensation of the air leaving my lungs—made the pleasure grow. I felt like my body couldn't take it, but at the same time I couldn't bear to consider for the merest instant that it might stop.

"Shh," I heard Cal murmur, from far away, "shh, darlin'. Such a good girl. Such a warm little bottom."

"Oh… my… oh… God," I sobbed. My back arched so hard I wondered if I might break something, and the orgasm… the titanic orgasm that seemed to loom over my head… had almost crested…

But I knew what Cal would do, before he did it, and when he took his hands away again, as if sensing how close I'd gotten—of course sensing that, because he apparently knew absolutely everything about my body's naughtiest impulses—my moan of frustration seemed to have some appreciation in it. I felt like I understood. Like the observing part of me had started thinking along with him.

That's right. Don't let her come. Not yet.

At that strangely distanced thought, the part of me that had remained inside, the core of me and my shameless dark desires, made me bend my head downward, like an animal submitting to a yoke. If I had been standing, I would have knelt before Cal.

I heard the metallic sound of his fly opening, and the rustling of the denim, a soft creaking noise that seemed to me to go perfectly with the strength of my gorgeous suitor's body—as if a man like Cal could only wear jeans made of a strong fabric, riveted securely, so as to contain the sheer bulk of his muscles and the forceful way he used them. I let out another little sob, a moan in which I could hear my submission to what I felt certain must come next.

He would show it to me, first. I would have to look at his cock. He would make me. I closed my eyes, squeezed them firmly shut.

You're going to get to look at Cal's hardness, you mean, the observer scolded, becoming strict with me—though nowhere near as strict as my suitor.

I had seen Jake's from very close up, hadn't I? The massive shaft he had thrust into his wife's pussy with such alarming force, the manhood she had begged for, had clearly needed so very badly.

And I needed a man's rigid penis, too. I needed the one in Cal's jeans… the one I knew he had just freed… the one I thought I could sense, swaying in the darkness beyond my closed eyelids. I breathed in through my nose and I scented the same kind of musky aroma that had risen from Jake's naked lap. It made me whimper. It made my hips jerk, my paddled bottom push out as if I were pleading to have my future husband's manhood in my pussy first, though I knew Cal had other, more shameful intentions.

His hand came down on the back of my neck, his fingers working their way into my disheveled ponytail. He turned my face to the side, and my next breath through my nose brought the masculine scent so strongly that I let out a kitten whine of shame and anxiety through my nose.

"Open your eyes, Grace," he told me sternly. "It's time for you to learn to thank me properly for disciplining you."

I bit my lower lip, and I shook my head, holding back my impulse to obey for some reason I didn't understand, some need for even more discipline, even more guidance.

"Don't make me paddle you more, darlin'," Cal said, his voice a growl of warning. The words made my butt clench as if I could somehow defend myself that way. I opened my eyes and I let out a gasp, because I didn't just see my suitor's huge, hard penis; I saw that he had taken off his shirt, too, at some point between the beginning of my terrible lesson and the final swat from the paddle.

Cal's washboard abs, with a line of dark fur running down their middle, seemed almost to speak for themselves. They told me of his hardness, his firmness in a new way that went straight to my pussy. The impossibly hard ridges of his core muscles echoed the other hardness, the one he held in his left hand while with his right he kept my head steady so that I had no choice but to confront it.

It… the part of my future husband that I must learn above all to please, to keep happy. To yield myself to. The plum-shaped head, and the long, thick shaft Cal pumped slowly and gently in his hand. I saw the throbbing veins, and I felt the warmth emanating from the delicate, slightly pebbly looking skin. A tiny drop of clear fluid appeared at the tiny slit as I watched, as if to tell me where Cal's seed would come from, when he climaxed.

When he puts a baby in me. The thought made me lightheaded. I would have to receive what this man decided to give me, whenever and however he chose.

"Thank me, now," he said. "You can figure out how."

With a little whine I turned my eyes upward to where he loomed over me, looking so tall and so dominant that I had to swallow hard as I gazed up into his stern eyes. I felt my mouth turn down in a pout of embarrassed protest. I lowered my eyes to look at the frightening thing again: Cal's rigid cock, jutting out from the open fly of his jeans. How could I do the bad-girl thing he demanded?

He made the decision for me. His right hand gripped the back of my head more firmly, and he leaned forward. I let out a little cry of shame as he pressed the head of his penis to my lips, and then I pursed them tightly against the invasion I thought he intended.

But he said, "Kiss it, Grace. Then I'll teach you to suck it the way a good girl does."

I whimpered softly through my nose, and then I found the little muscles in my lips starting to obey. As if something in the way Cal said good girl had a kind of magical power, I kissed the tip of his manhood, and I felt the slipperiness from his pre-cum smear on my lips, and I kissed it more. Suddenly I wanted to do it. I wanted to do the bad-girl-good-girl thing. I opened my mouth and put out my tongue a little. I looked up into Cal's eyes again, and I tried to look submissive and pleading, as if to suck my suitor's cock would be the nicest treat he could give me.

I wanted him to smile, and when he did I felt my heart give a leap at all the complicated emotions and sensations his evident pleasure produced in me. When he thrust his hips forward, though, and began to use my mouth, I had to turn my eyes downward out of shame, my cheeks burning.

It tasted a little salty and a little bitter. It filled my mouth and held it open.

"Oh, good girl," Cal murmured. "A little deeper now. There you go. You're learning so fast."

I whimpered around the surging shaft, trying to give it its way. My real training had begun, I knew; my training to please my accepted suitor as he deserved.

"Look at me," he ordered, as he held himself in my mouth at nearly full length, my nose brushing up against his denim-covered lap.

I obeyed, my blush returning full force as I saw his eyes and how dominantly they gazed down at me. I felt like I could see myself through his eyes: the sexy, shameful sight of a naughty girl, punished in the nude, her flaming bottom a testament to her suitor's strict training and her mouth full of his cock.

"It's time for you to come, darlin'," he said softly.

As my eyes went wide, he took his right hand from the back of my head and ran it down along my back. I shivered, and then when he took hold of my butt I cried out at the mingled pain and arousal. Call pulled his manhood from my mouth, glistening from my saliva, and began to pump it gently up and down again. My eyes went from his face to his penis and back again.

I felt his fingers between my legs, finding all the wetness there, spreading it to my clit. My whole body jerked, trying to push my pussy back into his grasp, desperately submitting to his knowing touch.

"Keep your eyes open," Cal commanded, his voice stern again. "You want this cock inside you, don't you, darlin'?"

He reinforced the words with his fingers, so that I understood the threat and the promise he had just made: if I wanted him to claim me with the hard shaft he had in his left hand, I had to look right at it, right at him, as he made me come. I didn't know why that should make my pussy clench so hard, but it did, and then at last Cal started to work me down there in earnest, and my orgasm came toward me like a freight train.

I screamed, and my eyes went up to his, and down to his hardness, and back to his eyes, and I came harder than I ever had before.