She wondered why the only time she could feel his love was when he was striking her. When he drew his arm back and struck her bottom with his belt, or with the crop, or even his bare hand, were the times when she knew he loved her. Or when he punished her other ways. She wondered if that is why she was such a pain in the ass sometimes? She needed to feel his love, and she'd get it any way that she could. How fucked up is that? She knew even when she was being disobedient that she'd be punished, somewhere deep inside her head she knew that. Maybe that's why she did the things that she did, and said the things that she said. The only times that she had felt truly happy in a great many years were when she was with him, or when she was writing about him.
She knew the rules, she knew them very well, she just chose to not follow them on certain occasions. Her motivations were known only to her, he didn't take the time to figure them out. And for that he would lose her. And someday, when he looked around his life and saw that there was no one who would love him like she did, he would be sorry. But sometimes money is more important to people than love, as sad as that is, it's still very true.
The first time they had met she had been so scared, so intimidated, so fearful. He had made her feel comfortable and safe, and she gave up to him feelings that she'd never given anyone else before. She'd never been bound, she'd never been struck, and she held all that newness up to him and gave it freely, trustingly, lovingly. He took it. Just took it from her and gave her, in return, the knowledge that this was indeed the kind of life she would choose. He gave her little else, his Time was just too limited and valuable elsewhere. His Time was more valuable to him than she was.
She thought about all this as she drove south, heading towards where she knew he would be. She was happy and sad at the same time, because she knew it would probably be the last time they were together. She sensed this intuitively as she drove along in her Jeep, going anyway, in spite of that knowledge. She would risk everything to see him one last moment, even her heart.
He called on the cell phone within minutes of her pulling in to the parking lot of where his business was located. The Goddess always watched out for her in little ways like that. He was in a hotel right across the street, and she drove to it immediately after their brief conversation. She pulled her jeep around to the side door and she went in to the room number he had given her. As soon as she opened the door she could see that grin of his, that lovely, sweet smile and those eyes looking right in to hers. She stepped right in to his arms and they hugged for a few minutes, God, she had missed him so much.
They went out and carried her bags back into the room. He had to go attend to some business across the street, but he wanted to get her punishment out of the way before he left, punishment for her latest indiscretion. She had been very disrepectful in an email, had pleasured herself without his permission on several occasions, and they both knew she needed to be punished. As he held her for a few moments before the punishment, he slid his hands down the back of her jeans and rubbed her bottom, skin against skin, it made her quite wet. All he had to do was touch her and her body responded with that throbbing, damp feeling between her legs. His hands on her bottom was especially lovely and it sent her in to that spacey frame of mind where she would deny him nothing.
"I want you to pull your jeans down now Lynn," he said to her.
She didn't even hesitate, she unzipped them and down they went. She hadn't even taken her boots off yet, she stood there with her jeans down around her ankles, boots still on, waiting for direction. There wasn't even any humiliation in that stance, just the utter need to obey him. It overcame her, as always.
"Turn and bend over the couch," she obeyed promptly, turning and placing her hands on the back of the couch with her panty clad bottom exposed to him. He walked toward the closet and she snuck a peek over her shoulder. He had a new belt, black leather with little silver stars embedded in the leather. She wasn't even scared, she wanted it, badly. He pulled her aqua colored, bikini panties down around her ankles as well.
"Do you have any explanation for your behavior Lynn?" he asked her.
She turned her head slightly toward him and said, "temporary insanity?" and giggled. She could see a quick smile pass over his mouth, but then he raised the belt. Her inclination to giggle madly abruptly departed with the first blow. It HURT, bad! He struck her bottom very hard with the belt, moving to a different area of her skin with each blow. The ones he peppered across the bottom of her buttocks near her thighs, didn't hurt quite as badly as the ones up higher on the fleshy part of her bottom, but they all hurt much more than anything she'd experienced from him so far. She tried very hard not to tense up with the blows this time, and she felt contrite and punished and loved. She wanted it to stop, but she also never wanted it to end. She wanted him to do that to her every single day for the rest of her life. The thoughts that this would be the last time left her head completely and she simply existed in that moment, alone with him. There was nothing else in the world for her at that moment, just him and the belt. She loved it.
"On your knees," he told her.
The blows had stopped and he had given her a direction and she had to take a moment for it to register in her mind. She quickly fell to her knees in front of him, bottom resting lightly on her feet, knees apart, hands on her legs, palms up. Her bottom felt like it was on fire.
"Take out my cock," his voice was so sexy, sensual, dominant.
