Characters: Henry Cavill the Actor, Unnamed OFC (You)
Summary: Written in the second person, you and Henry have become intimate lovers while experiencing a relationship with a Dom/sub angle. You prepare to receive some unnecessary punishment.
Rating: Explicit NSFW 18+
Warnings: Dom/sub, BDSM, Intimidation, Teasing, Spanking,
Word Count: 2,651
The phone rings as you place your wine glass back down on the table. Reaching for it, you recognize the name on the screen before the phone is in your hand. You grin as you choose to connect. “Hi…” Your seductive smile rings through your voice, telling him you’re happy he’s called.
You can hear him take his deep exhale as he takes his time answering you, a hollow and warm sound that reverberates through your entire being. It’s beyond you how he can make you feel this way just by a simple breath. In the anticipation, he’s making you wait to hear that beautiful voice.
“Hello darling.”
His daring and welcoming voice soothes you immediately even though you’ve already been soothed by his call alone. He takes his time, and pauses long enough for your mind to start searching for something to say back, but he speaks again.
“Have you been a bad girl?”
This unexpected question excites you and you feel the small black circles in your eyes widen. The trembles begin in your neck and carry through to your jawline. The sense of intimidation he holds over you just by the implied idea has you at your will. Showing interest in the suggested activity, he’s left the choice up to you. You swallow, trying not to make any noises. You look up and straight through his dining room with eagerness as you take your time answering carefully. “Yes,” you hum, unsure of his returning response and what kind of play he has in mind.
There’s a rumbling to his angered moan spawned from the depths of his throat to indicate an aggressive sexual relief is abroad, one you know he’s been holding onto all day. If he’s had a particularly bad day, his frustration builds, and being in the spotlight doesn’t allow for him to release his anger easily. You both know the first rule of BDSM is punishment is not to be given when anger is involved, but your agreement allows you both to have what you want; he needs an outlet, and this is truly your kink. This is why he’s chosen your specific communicative code beforehand, implying what he needs, and giving you the option to deny or accept what you want.
“You know you need to be punished then.”
In the heat of these moments that follow this phrase, he’s instilled fantasies into your mind. You close your eyes and shivers travel over your skin from top to bottom. You feel the heat travel from your innards to your opening, where fluid inadvertently seeps through your lips and slides to the soft cotton fabric of your panties. You start to feel the beginning of trembles as you wait for his physical contact which can’t be soon enough.
He wants you like this and he needs you like this, in order for you to be physically and emotionally ready for what he’s going to do to you.
You gather yourself and part your lips, taking a small breath before addressing his next invitation and consenting for the second time. “Yes,” and with your shy contented response, you know that final address of your damnation has you at his mercy.
His tone is unlike any other you’ve heard anyone else use. He truly gives you full attention during your punishment and it’s something that’s been destined to happen soon. You know it’s been brewing for awhile.
“I expect you to be in your position.”
With only a total of three words spoken to him, you hear the phone disconnect in your ear and lower it, visibly shaking. Excited for his arrival, you need to calm yourself to think straight and prepare. You inhale slowly and exhale, giving yourself a light-headed feeling before thinking what your first step is.
#
Your forehead starts to go numb from the hardwood floors beneath it. Your hands have become incredibly cold, spread to either side of your head and slightly cupped, in some frantic attempt to keep heat trapped and absorbed somewhere in your body. You’ve been able to rid the trembles in your nervous figure as your knees have taken precedence and you feel the pain in your waiting position. Scenes of sex and your coming discipline roam your thoughts repeatedly in different scenarios, while past experiences have as much of as effect on your current need, as your fantasies do.
Finally, you hear the rumble of his tires in the laneway. Like magic, you erupt in an involuntary response to him as your body uncontrollably shakes. Chills cover your skin. Your breathing becomes rapid. Your eyes flutter under their lids. Your heart pounds. And the burning sensation between your legs grows.
In the still room, each breath feels like an eternity, while the sound of individual footsteps excite you, and the fear gives you your own personal high.
The door opens, and in the silence, you wait for his move.
…
You feel him looking at you while he stands frozen with the door wide open. You can’t tell if he’s impressed by your presentation, or playfully displeased. Your willing nature to abide seeks acceptance and the painful pleasure you crave. Bearing yourself to him in your vulnerable state allows him the perception you are willing to bow to his liking. Now it’s just a matter of what he’s chosen to do to you.
The door closes softly and quietly, and you remain in your position in the confinements of the walls surrounding you. You are now in private territory with him alone, and the mere thought that he has you to himself scares you in an stimulating way. His sexual secrets have become yours, and a deeper understanding of trust has been built.
As you hear him walk towards you from behind, your breath forces trembling air from your parted lips. You try to remain calm but the intimidation and excitement is too much to bear. Time can’t tick any slower for you as he makes you wait for what’s coming.
You swallow as quietly as you can while he takes his stance behind you. The sight he must have is incredible, and you assume he’s drinking it in; the contrast of the tiny black panty lining that frames a soft yet vulnerable displayed masterpiece. You wait for acceptance from him, a reward, or a simple praise that you’ve done well thus far.
The cool air that surrounds him is brought to your pose and is felt in your wet between your sheer-covered lips. You feel the slight chill from the breeze and your walls constrict from the simple sensation.
His fingers touch your presented backside and in response, your hips involuntarily jump at his touch, welcoming it as if you were a cat in heat and pushing back up against the familiar physical love you desperately seek. Your hips start to roll against the palm of his hand as he rounds the most prominent part of your cheek, slowly, carefully, teasing you. Relieved to feel his touch, you sink into an erotic plethora of semi-unconsciousness.
“You make me proud.”
You feel the fluid escape your soft lips below. Blended with that British accent, the tone you hear settles and heightens you all at the same time. From then on, you’re conscious of the squeeze you repeatedly feel as it builds the wet your body produces for insertion.
He backs away and each step is like a tremor in your gut. He hasn’t told you to move, so you remain in your place. It sounds as though he’s taken a seat in the dining room close to the entry way, but you wait for his instruction.
You hear shuffling and brushing of the clothes he’s wearing as he adjusts, and finally, the silence returns. It’s that complete intimidating absence of sound he gives you on purpose.
Since he’s taken a step back, you’ve gathered yourself and wait good-naturedly for his next word, which is, “Come.”
Lifting your forehead off the floor, you turn and one at a time, your sore knees on the floor rise carefully, making their way across the hardwood floor individually as you crawl to him, as you’ve been trained. You remain with your head low, bowing and looking to his footwear. Shiny black suit shoes cover his feet, as if he had been at a wedding. He’s indeed sitting at a chair, but he’s turned it outwards from the head of the table. His knees are parted comfortably, and you can see his large strong relaxed hands resting on each one of them. The sparkle of the initialed gold ring signifies who he is and the reminder makes you feel fortunate, sexually amplified and willing all over again.
Each movement towards him on your hands and knees is taken with caution from your prior position’s pain, but is necessary in your presentation to him. Still as his pet, you make your way slowly across the floor. To symbolize your own giving to him, you place yourself beneath his legs and sit on your shins that you strategically place underneath you, bowing your head to him with your hands comfortably hanging at your sides, open and further un-vocally telling him you are at his mercy. Your patience exuberates your enthusiasm for his welcomed antics. The heat from his body at close range radiates into your naked skin and you desperately seek contact from it, but silently wait for his next move.
His hand raises off his knee and as you peer down at the floor, his fingers lift your chin leisurely. Your heart is racing and your eyes start to panic as they find the lowest point possible with every inch they’re forced to be lifted. You stare at the bottom of his unbuttoned black suit jacket to see a vest underneath it. He’s in a three-piece suit. Out of your peripherals, you can see the contrast of a bright white shirt under the vest, and a solid coloured tie displayed down the middle of his chest. Before you have a chance to take in any more of his appearance you urgently want to see, he’s spoken again.
“My oh my, you’re quite the good girl indeed.”
His further commendation has you feeling proud and the acceptance you were looking for has been given. You feel content with yourself, but know the road down this particular activity, still has miles to be traveled on.
“Look at me.”
This demand has you feeling very intimidated as he typically does not allow your eyes to reach his own during your sessions. Furthermore, you know that you need to keep his stare once you’ve met his eyes, and that seems to be difficult for you in these situations. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you believe this is a form of punishment, and you search for a reason to believe what you have done wrong.
Your focal point is a blur and you tell yourself to gain confidence. He’s asked you to do as such and you must abide. Your eyes look past his perfect broad jaw, his thick lips and his impeccable skin. You choose his left eye to make contact with and hold his incredibly powerful and intimidating gaze. The light in the room is too dark to see the touch of brown in it, but you try to focus on it out of pure concentration.
The next word sends you into a mass hysteria of excitement inside, but you hold steady.
“Beautiful.”
His connection with you, and his choice to force you to listen so intently to that word, makes you understand his genuine care for you. He knows how important it is for you to have that recognition, and he’s giving it.
His eyes wander down your face and you feel his fingers shift. His thumb brushes lightly over your lips and you start to feel the smear of the lipstick you’ve put on for him. He parts your lips and brushes over them harder, intentionally smearing your makeup thus preparing the sight he wants to see.
He finds the part between your lips and the tip of his thick dry thumb pushes inside your void, scraping the edges of your front teeth. The taste of his thumb is salty, yet clean and you bask in the type of reward he’s currently giving you a taste of. He pulls out gently and pushes back inside with a tiny bit of wet on them. Finally, once you have enough confidence that this is what he’s meaning, you give into his request and create a space for his insertion. He pushes his whole thumb inside your mouth and you soak it, sucking and possibly foreshadowing what could be.
The flat of your tongue is pressed as he enters and he slides it out with a little more pressure than before, but this time he removes it completely and swipes it across your lipstick. In bliss, you close your eyes and show your appreciation silently while he toys with you. Another chill echoes through your physique as you kneel before your partner, ready and willing.
You open your eyes to see his of beauty and desire ready to give you your next order.
As you gaze into his eyes, his fingers slide down from your lips and chin and they cradle your neck. He tips your head to the side, allowing your long hair to fall away from where he appears to be looking. You watch his vision travel to your sensitive skin as he rubs over the previous night’s gift. He says nothing, lingering the previous night’s antics in the room. His touch over his own bite marks remind you of how rough he can be when he’s not agitated. He pawns his damp thumb over your sore flesh and seems to be proud of what he’s left behind, as you are proud to have received them.
“Over my knee.”
Like a child, your excitement grows and butterflies fly inside your stomach. Ignoring it to the best of your ability, you lower your vision and willingly prop yourself over his lap. The black lace panty thong you know he loves to remove himself, remains in place as you bend over and position yourself accordingly. His clothed legs feel hot against your naked cold skin as your breasts push into his thigh. Your arms comfortably swing over his leg beside your head and your toes barely touch the ground on the other side. Uncomfortable for you to be in, yet rewarding nonetheless.
You sense his deep breaths as he looks you over in your accepting position and again, he makes you wait, biding time and building eagerness.
Finally, the pull and stretch of the panties is felt as he drags them off of your skin with an excruciatingly slow movement, exposing you further for your own pleasure. Typically, he waits just before penetration to do this, but now you sense some of his eagerness this time.
He positions them under the curve of your ass cheeks while using his fingers to slide across your flesh. The warmth from his open palm sends shivers over your body and the trembles begin once again. You try to refrain from shaking, but it only makes it worse, and you know they’re visible.
As he caresses you, his gentle touch across the soon-to-be sensitive area causes the muscles in your backside to flex. Slowly as he gently rubs, you begin to unwind and feel what you have come to know as precautions. This soothes you and your mind, knowing that when it’s all over, his given punishment is unlike you’ve ever come to have.
But just as you begin to relax sinking into a more relieved state over his lap, the sharp sound echoes through your ears before you even have a chance to process the first unforgiving lick.
To Be Continued…
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