The Occasional Sub Ch 02

My day started out bad. My coworker was being a bitch for unknown reasons and my day was just a shit show after that. I tried to keep it to myself, but my husband was irritated that I wasn't on the same level as him. We had just finished dinner and the kids had just gone upstairs to play video games until bed. My husband turns to me and says, "Dragonfruit".

I set my jaw. "Yes sir". Admittedly there was a part of me that didn't want to submit to him right now. However, I said yes because I had agreed that I would submit whenever he asked unless I had a good and legitimate reason. Besides, whatever he had planned for me would probably make me feel better. When I get stuck in my head over things like this my anxiety has control. Having him take control removes the rest of the worries and allows me to process and move on.

"Tell the boys goodnight first." he told me.

I go up the stairs and tell the boys I'm tired and am going to bed early. We said our "I love you's", and I went to my bedroom.

I took off all my clothes as he closed and locked the door. "Lean over the bed, legs apart." He demanded sternly. I did what he said without hesitation feeling a super self conscious.

He got out a crop. I hate the crop, but it's the only thing quiet enough to use if the kids might hear. He rubs the crop up and down my ass and asks, "Do you know why I'm doing this?"

"Yes Sir"

"Tell me."

"I had a bad day Sir, and I wasn't treating you as well as you deserve."

"More than that, you were short tempered and looked at everything as a nuisance. How many lashes do you think you should receive?"

"I don't know Sir, I'm not sure how many times I may have been irritable without realizing it. Would 2 lashes per incident satisfy you, Sir?"

Without a word, he started to bring the cane down firmly across my back and ass. It was hard enough that the marks might not fade completely tonight. The sting of the crop drove all thoughts from my mind. There was just a stinging pain. I counted 18 lashes. As the pain turned to warmth across my skin I felt myself relax for the first time today.

"You'll also get 3 per incident per child."

I hadn't realized I had been that irritable, but I said, "Thank you, Sir."

I tensed back up waiting for the blows to come. "I won't start those yet. You need to learn that it's not ok to bring everyone around you down just because you had a bad day. If you need me to help you improve your day you should come to me and ask. Stand up and hold out your wrists." He placed a cuff on each wrist. "Over by the swing chair, hands above your head, back against the chair."

The chair is a large indoor/outdoor egg swing chair. When I lean back it arches my back. I feel totally vulnerable like this. He snaps my wrist cuffs together behind the chain, then slides them up until I am taught. "On your tiptoes." I sighed but complied.

Once he got me snapped into place he came around in front of me and grabbed and squeezed my cheeks with one hand making me look him in the eyes. "Do not sigh when I give you instructions. Follow directions and say 'Thank you Sir', or 'Yes Sir'. That's 5 more lashes."

I didn't say anything as he retrieved the cane and lashed me twice across the breasts and then five times across my stomach. "I added two more because again, you didn't say thank you Sir. I'll be watching TV." He said and turned and left. Locking the door behind him.

After 5 minutes I was already tired. After 10 minutes I was starting to ache. I began trying to adjust myself, and to find a way to get some relief for my wrists, shoulders and toes. At first I was switching between putting extra strain on my toes to relieve my wrists, then vice versa. It was when I got more daring and tried to tip-toe my way backwards so that the chair was supported on my back, that the chair swung off my back and bumped into the wall. It wasn't hard, but it was enough that I knew he would hear it. At this point probably 20 minutes had passed since he had left me here.

I was struggling to get back into my original position when he entered the room. The chair had swung around in front of me and I tried to twist and navigate it back around, but I was hurting myself trying to fix it. When he entered the room I stopped. At this point there wasn't much I could do anyway, and I probably looked foolish.

He said nothing. Instead he just stood there and watched me for a moment. I turned red knowing he was trying to figure out what I had done. After what seemed like forever he asked, "Does that feel better?"

"No Sir" I responded.

"Why?"

"Because now in addition to the pressure on my wrists, shoulders, and toes, my breasts are digging into the chair."

He let out a small breath of laughter, and I did too. It's not uncommon for me to want to fix something so bad I make it worse. He helped get me back into position and even lowered my cuffs a couple rings. I wasn't able to sit flat footed, but it felt like a huge relief for now. I was pretty sure I had a couple of scratches on me from the ordeal. I'd try to remember to check later, but more than likely I'd find one in a couple days and wonder where it came from.

"Since I'm here I think I'll go ahead and administer the next round of punishment. You get 9 lashes for your 3 incidents with Cameron." He picked up the cane and this time got me across the thighs. He started high working his way down, getting the tops of both thighs at the same time. He wasn't as harsh with these lashes. It still stung, and left a mark behind (with a cane it doesn't take much to leave a mark), but it wouldn't last too long. He looked at me, "Stripes look good on you." He winked at me and gave me a lopsided smile. "Be a good girl and don't cause any more interruptions."

"I won't, Sir."

He left the room again, and this time when the pain and discomfort started to come back to the forefront of what I was feeling, I concentrated on it. I have tinnitus and one of the things I learned is that you have to concentrate on the sound so that your brain will automatically start to block it out. I do that now. I lay my head back and close my eyes, and focus entirely on what I'm feeling. My shoulders are tightening, my hands are freezing, my wrists feel like they are being stretched.

Then the fan that we use for white noise at night came on. We have our fan on a smart device so he can turn it on with his phone. I continue concentrating. My toes feel like something is pressing hard against them, almost as if the ground is pushing up as my weight is pushing down. Now I'm noticing my back starting to ache from the arch. I can feel my nipples aching for warmth and attention. And now with the fan on, even though it's not blowing right on me, I feel cold. I start to shiver slightly.

Once my mind has gotten bored listening to the complaints of my body it moves on to something more pleasurable. And there is something about being restrained like this, especially naked, that makes me horny. Maybe it's because I know it will probably turn into sex before he's done. Or maybe this is the brain's way of distracting itself from the discomfort, but all I can do now is picture him stalking towards me, naked and ready to go, and taking me roughly as if all that matters is scratching that itch for a good orgasm. As I'm playing out scenarios in my mind a hand suddenly wraps around my throat.

"What are you thinking about slut?"

I look at him, unable to respond. He lets go of my throat and I take a breath. "I'm thinking about you fucking me while I'm hanging here like this Sir."

"Of course, it's always about fucking isn't it my little slut. First it's time for your last round of punishment. 6 lashes for your 2 incidents with Trevor." He lifted my right leg up, then brought the cane down on the inner thigh of my left leg three times quickly, all in the same spot.

"Fuck" I said under my breath.

"Shit, are you ok?" he asked, with just a hint of concern. I normally stay silent as I take pain. Even in childbirth I was quiet.

"Yes Sir, that was just intense."

"Should I stop?" he asked.

I looked him in the eye. "No. I will use yellow if you get close to my limit Sir. I promise."

He took a beat, then he brought the cane down on the inner thigh of the leg he was holding. Again 3 quick lashes. These were less intense, and I found myself feeling disappointed even though they hurt still. I didn't want the sympathy, I wanted the pain. The fact that he softened on the second set gave me control. Having control when I was subbing made me feel like he was just following my instructions, since I was the one who proposed this type of relationship.

Now I was thinking about how he was probably just doing this because I asked for it, and that he didn't get any enjoyment out of it at all. Following a script that I had basically written for him when working out our agreement. Now I felt sleazy in a bad way. I didn't say anything, but I took a mental note to say something later. I just didn't know how to explain that softening a still painful blow made me feel sleazy to someone who doesn't get why I feel better after a scene.

He put my leg down and unclipped my wrists, gently lowering them so the blood didn't rush back too quickly. He helped me over to the bed and laid me down. "How are you doing?"

"Good, thank you, but I need to use the restroom." I purposely didn't say Sir. If he was still in control he would need to punish me for it. If he wasn't then I would end the scene.

Immediately he slapped my cheek, "Why don't you try answering the question again, properly. And do not mistake my concern for the end of the scene. I'm not finished with you yet."

"I'm sorry Sir, I'm ok, but I need to use the restroom please Sir." I do not like being slapped in the face, but at the same time it felt worth it to me. He was still in control and ready to prove it.

"Better! Do you need any help?"

"Not if I can take a minute here first, Sir."

"Alright."

He sat next to me on the bed and massaged my shoulders lightly as I stretched my muscles out. Then I sat up. He stood and watched me stand, making sure I was steady. I still had the cuffs on my wrists, which probably meant he wasn't done with me.

When I got back the bed had been cleared. "Lay down across the middle." When I did as he said he connected my wrist cuffs to the bed restraints to the corners on one side, and then cuffed my ankles and connected them to the corners on the other side. I was spread eagle sideways across the bed. "Don't go anywhere." He said this nearly every time he tied me up. Never missing his chance for a dad joke.

Immediately I was fantasizing about what he was going to do to me when he got back. Would he leave me like this as he fucked or fingered me? Would he use my mouth? What if he didn't fuck me at all. Somehow, laying down in bed made me feel tired despite being cold and restrained. Somehow I managed to fall asleep.

I woke up to the jostling of my ankles as he unclasped them from the bed restraints then clasped them together. When I opened my eyes I saw he was already naked and ready to go. He lifted my ankles and pushed my legs back so that they were bent over my body. He had clearly been very prepared as he slid his lubed cock into me easily. He never said anything. At first, I was an inactive participant. As my mind continued to wake up I realized that his lack of communication, and touch made me feel used.

I'm sure other women would find this to be a violation, and if it were anyone but my Dom doing this I would agree. When we were scening he had free range with few boundaries. Besides, this was one thing I was more than happy to offer him as my Dom. My consent started the moment he said Dragonfruit, it's no coincidence that it also coincided with my increased attraction and libido.

My orgasm started to grow, but unfortunately, his orgasm came too quickly. Before I even got close he was finishing. He pushed deep and unloaded his semen inside of me. I sighed in frustration without thinking. When I did he looked at me and gave me a wicked half smile. "You can orgasm, but you only get one hand to do it, and you can only use external stimulation."

"Thank you Sir." I responded. At least I would get an orgasm. It just wouldn't be a very good one.

He undid my left hand and handed me the clit vibrator. He went into the bathroom and left the door open so he could see me. That made me uncomfortable, so I wasn't getting anywhere. I stopped and closed my eyes. I thought about a story I had read that had turned me on for reasons I haven't yet unpacked.

In the story the Dom was sitting in a chair looking right at his subs pussy as she brought herself to orgasm under his command and watchful eye. I played that story out in my mind. He was standing in the doorway, watching me. "Play with that clit. Keep that vibrator on your most sensitive spot until I say you can move it. You look so slutty lying there spread eagle trying so hard to get an orgasm while I stand here. That's right, make yourself cum, yeah, there you go, cum for me slut, cum now, don't remove the vibrator until I tell you. You can do it, hold it, a little longer you little slut, keep going, take that on your sensitive little clit until your Master releases you. I see you cumming now. Hold it, don't you fucking move it, almost there. There you go, now stop." That's what he said in my imagination as I came.

When I was done I was panting with exertion. His cum and my wetness were dripping onto the sheet. I set the vibrator aside and waited for him to let me go. I didn't have the courage to look at him and find out if he had actually been watching. A minute later he unclasped me and said. "You are dismissed."