All In

I don’t remember the words I said exactly, but I do remember not using a pleasant tone of voice, and I remember whatever it was, that it didn’t meet at least two of the three criteria I try to use before I say something out loud.  Not just when I am talking to V, but talking with anyone, just to be a decent human - 1)is it necessary, 2)is it nice?, 3)is it true?

V was sitting at the kitchen table, and he grabbed my wrist as I walked over to the sink from the other room.  He held on tight.  At first I thought he was being silly, but then I turned and saw the look on his face.  Pissed.  I think I returned that look with one that was similarly outraged.  Don’t act like you don’t fucking know how you just spoke to me, he said.  I think the blood rushed out of my face, and I started to open my mouth to say something to excuse my behavior.  Before I could say anything, he said, go get the cane.

I knew where the rattan cane was that V kept on top of the bookcase in the living room.  After we had been dating about a week, he told me about corporal punishment that was administered in countries like Singapore.  He said, he thought that was over the top.  However, he showed me his cane, which was maybe half the size of ones they used, and told me that if he had to punish me with his, I would find myself standing during every meeting at work for at least a week, and that I would be cursing him every minute of driving or any other time I had to sit down.  

I had pretty much forgotten about that cane because I didn’t think it would ever come up again.  I’m a kind and honest person, I thought to myself.  But, of course, no one is perfect.

Fuck, I thought.  Last night he spanked me with his hand and with the belt, so my ass was already pretty sore.  I went over to the bookcase and had to stand on my tiptoes to reach the cane.  I felt it and took it down.

He had gotten out a stool and put it in the middle of the kitchen floor.  Up, he said.  I got up on the stool.  It was maybe a foot tall.  Bend over, touch your toes, he said.  I looked at him as if to protest again, and he said, L, in a tone of voice that I knew meant, do not fuck with me.  I bent down to touch my toes.  Legs, straight he said.  I stretched my fingers down and straightened my knees.

He reached up and lifted my skirt up over my back then yanked my panties down to my ankles.  

You’re counting to 50, L.  I argued, 50?!  He hit me once on the back of my thighs and said, L, again, in the tone that I knew I should shut the fuck up.  When he told me about the corporal punishment cane, he said they administer however many strokes “of the best,” meaning, they were very accurate and very hard.  I knew this was going to be 50 “of the best,” except now it was 51 because we hadn’t actually started yet.

I put my head down, straightened my knees and reached my fingertips down.  He hit me very squarely in the middle of my ass, and it felt like a lightning bolt.  One, I said.  Good girl, he said.  He waited maybe a second before he hit me again.  Two.  He kept the strokes coming every 2 to 3 seconds, which was brutal, but I kept telling myself, at that pace it meant the whole thing would be over sooner.  Four.  He started moving the strokes from my ass down the back of my thighs.  I had counted 10 when he was about a third of the way down the back of my legs.  After 11 he started moving back up again.  

Your ass looks fucking amazing, L, he said.  I couldn’t think about that at all because I was just trying not to fall off the stool and not to lose count.  15.  I mean, I don’t ever want you to fucking talk to me like that again, 20, but if you do, these raised red stripes look fucking hot on you, he said.  22.  

I was starting to bend my knees and starting to reach up to grab my ass around 30.  L, he said.  Do you want me to give you extra.  I shook my head no.  Touch your fucking toes.  31.  I was crying out now with every stroke.  I was trying so hard to just keep counting and not move my hands.  

Fucking hell, V, 35.  Do not fucking talk to me like that, L, and this will never have to happen again.  I was crying now, and I couldn’t help but bend my knees after every stroke.  47.  48.  49.  50.  

He caught me before I fell off the stool.  He carried me over to the sofa and laid me on my tummy.  He left the room, but I didn’t fucking care because I didn’t want to see his face.  

A few minutes later, I had stopped crying, and he came and sat next to me on the ottoman by the sofa.  He had brought me a glass of cold water which I drank in one gulp.  Then he lifted my skirt up onto my back and started rubbing my ass with some almond oil.  Damn, babe.  You are marked up.  I moaned.  What he was doing now felt amazing.

Do you remember what you said to me now, he asked?  I didn’t want to tell him no, but I didn’t want to lie either.  No, I don’t, I said.   But I quickly said, but I do remember how I said it, and I remember it wasn’t a necessary or nice thing to say.  That is true, he said.  The details don’t matter if you remember that, he said.

He rubbed my ass then moved down my legs, between my legs, then up my inner thighs.  L, you look so fucking hot.  I turned onto my side.  Fuck, that was ouch.  Nope, I said.  I got down on my knees on the floor and put my head in his lap.  I stayed there for a few minutes and just breathed in his scent.  He smelled clean, but he also had the smell that guys have after sex.  I was already so wet of course, but breathing him in made me wetter.

I started to unbutton and unzip his pants.  L, you don’t have to, he said.  I didn’t say anything, just kept trying to get his pants down.  He laughed and stood up briefly so I could pull them down far enough to reveal his very hard cock.  

I grabbed it with one hand to put it in my mouth then grabbed the bottom of his ass with my other hand.  My nose was still kind of stuffy from crying, so it was hard to get a big enough breath in to get more of his cock into my mouth.  I licked it with my mouth open and then closed my lips around it to lick it again.  He moaned and started moving my head in closer.  L, he moaned again.  Babe, he said.  He was starting to breath fast.  I started moving my head in and out faster, trying to get more of his cock in my mouth.  He seemed like he was about to come when he picked me up by my upper arms and landed me back on his lap.  His cock went right inside me, and I was grinding on him, riding him back and forth.  I was so wet. 

He buried his face in my neck, biting me and kissing me.  Oh, L, he moaned into my ear.  He came inside me, then I came.  I stayed in his lap while we breathed in sync with each other, slowly returning to normal. 

He took in a deep breath.  I love you, he said.  I was surprised to hear him say that for the first time to me, but I didn’t hesitate at all.  I love you, too.