Treasured Submission (11 page)

Samantha clenched the sheets, now soaked with her tears, and moaned as he pumped his seed into her. She felt truly, thoroughly punished. Her ass still felt like it was on fire and her anus was burning and aching as well, and she knew she wouldn't sit comfortably for several days. Fresh tears slid down her cheeks as she remembered she was to present herself for a paddling every evening before bed. It had hurt beyond words when he'd paddled her anus before fucking her ass, and that pain would be reawakened every night for her decision to lie to her husband. Swiping her tears from her cheeks, Sam took a deep breath. It was all her fault and she would be strong enough to submit to and accept her husband's discipline. With that realization, and though she knew she had yet to pay the full price for her disobedience, she felt the guilt drain from her. When Ian slowly removed his softening penis, her moan was barely audible as it stretched her anus for the last time.

"Good girl, you may attend," Ian said quietly. He was extremely proud of her when she blushed, but immediately turned around and took his softening penis into her mouth, her submission evident. Despite her earlier embarrassment, she was immensely thankful he always ordered her to give herself a large, cleansing enema before one of these lessons. She sucked, licked and tongued his cock until it was clean of his seed, before releasing it to clean and suckle his testicles. No words were exchanged during this very intimate ritual. Once he was clean, he stood back, taking his wife's hand and helping her from the bed. Sam waddled awkwardly to her corner, her legs spread to relieve the burning in her body. Placing her nose against the wall, she spread her legs wide, then reached back to pry her hot cheeks apart yet again. She was required to display any parts of her body that had been punished. Ian checked her position, pleased to see she was properly in place. He looked at her bottom with its one blister and several welts, her anus pulsing like a little mouth, gasping in protest of his use.

Samantha remained still as she felt him run his hands over her ass and tap at her exposed anus.

"Remember, every night, Samantha," he gently reminded her, as she flinched at his touch on her punished skin.

"Yes, Sir," she answered quietly. Her sobs had stopped, only an occasional sniffle sounding as Ian returned the implements to their proper place and washed and sterilized her punishment plug.

Preparing for bed, he returned the chair to its usual place, checking his watch to see that she had another fifteen minutes of corner time. He hoped she was using this time to reflect on her behavior and understand what she should have done. It was hard punishing Samantha this severely, as it hurt him to see her in such pain. Despite the fact that both of them knew that she became very aroused when spanked, this amount of discipline was indeed a harsh punishment. However, he knew that if bad behavior were left unchecked, the stress and tension in their marriage would grow, driving them apart. It was difficult being the head of the house, difficult to cause his wife pain, but he knew it would be far more difficult to let his marriage fail. He never took her beyond what she was both emotionally and physically capable of handling. But, if he had to, he'd spank her daily to ensure they were in tune with each other, and he knew that he would spank her anus every night for the coming week to make sure she understood how seriously he took lying.

He approached her and she turned to face him. "No, sweetie. It's not time. You'll wear your reminder plug until I remove it tomorrow. That should keep your mind on the penalty for lying." Samantha nodded, and turned back to assume the required position. "Open yourself wide," he ordered, and she obeyed. Ian seated the plug, far more easily this time, as it was much smaller than her punishment plug. This one was bright pink and was used to remind her to behave, much like having her husband's finger driven into her bottom earlier. However, instead of just a few thrusts from her husband, she'd keep this plug inside until Ian decided to remove it.

"You'll spend your remaining time sitting." He brought the tall punishment stool over and placed it on the floor about a foot from her. "Sit," he said and then helped her onto the stool. She whimpered as her body weight settled onto the hard, wooden surface. He watched as she slowly settled, spreading her legs apart to tuck her feet around rungs on the sides. When she appeared to have positioned herself, Ian shook his head. "Nose to the wall," he ordered, and she leaned forward until it was pressed into the corner, placing her hands on her knees.

The position allowed her to sit, but required even more concentration than standing, as she had to focus on not allowing her feet to slip off the rungs or her hands to drop from her knees. With her bending forward to keep her nose tight against the wall, it did keep some of her weight off her aching bottom, but also provided her husband a better view of his handiwork.

"Extended punishment means extended corner time. I'll release you in thirty minutes. Take this time to truly reflect on your behavior," Ian instructed her and she nodded, not allowed to talk during corner time unless asked a direct question. Ian reached down and patted her swollen rear, causing her to flinch and gasp. Then he went to the kitchen and got two bottles of water, knowing she would be dehydrated after such an intense session.

Returning to the bedroom, he sat down with a book. After reading a few chapters, and with a look at his watch, he put his book on the table and turned down the bed. Looking at his contrite wife sitting on her punishment stool, he smiled at how very beautiful she looked and how much he loved her. After a final trip to the cabinet, he said softly, "You may release, Samantha."

Samantha stood slowly, very happy to be off her stool, and then turned to her husband. "I'm sorry, Ian. Thank you for punishing me, thank you for taking me in hand." Ian nodded and held out his arms. She flew into them, tears flooding her eyes again, but this time in relief of being forgiven. It had been a very intense session, definitely the most severe she had yet to endure, but she now felt completely clean and forgiven.

Ian held his wife until she calmed, then bent down and kissed her. Her response was to moan deep in her throat, her lips pressing hard against his as if she wanted him to devour her. All their love was poured into the kiss and he felt his cock stir and her entire body trembling, with desire instead of pain. He led her to the bed and handed her a bottle of water. She drank most of it before handing it back, with a soft smile and a whispered thanks.

Ian helped her into the bed and guided her to lie on her stomach. He picked up the bottle of arnica lotion he had gotten from the cabinet and poured a generous amount onto his palm. Though Samantha gave a jerk of discomfort at the first touch of his hand against her punished skin, she was soon moaning in relief as the ointment instantly began to soothe her. He smiled, much preferring to massage her ass than to punish it so harshly. He continued to gently work the arnica into her, not avoiding the divide of her bottom where she had received her intimate spanking. It took a quarter hour until he was satisfied that he had given as much comfort as the lotion could provide. Moving the bottle to the nightstand, he climbed into the bed beside his wife.

"Thank you," she whispered, as she turned to him.

"You're welcome," he whispered back, cupping her cheek in his palm and drawing her lips to his. He kissed her again and again. Her throaty moans spoke of her arousal, her nipples hard and erect against his chest. Ian gently pushed her onto her back, not missing her hiss of discomfort.

Sam did not complain or attempt to turn over. The pain of lying on her well-spanked ass served to remind her that the man that had so thoroughly punished her was the same man who was bending over her, ready to love her even more thoroughly. Ian gave her a reassuring smile before bending to suckle first one and then her other erect nipple. Her fingers clutched at the sheets for a totally different reason as her husband positioned himself between her legs and very gently entered her. Her moan was beautiful to him as he filled her completely, stretching her pussy around his erection. Sam felt him even more completely fill her as the plug in her bottom pressed against his cock through the thin membrane in her body.

"Okay?" he asked gently.

"Oh yes, yes. More than okay, Sir."

Ian bent and kissed her, but held himself still until she adjusted to him before starting to make love to her. He bent to kiss and gently nip at her breasts as he stroked in and out of her. He took a nipple into his teeth and bit gently. She arched up, moisture flooding her pussy. He was building a different type of fire within her. He rolled the nipple between his teeth as he squeezed the other with one hand.

She whipped her head from side to side, wanting him desperately. He stroked into her again and again as he played with her nipples. Wrapping her legs around him, she begged, "Harder, oh, Ian, please fuck me harder. I need you hard!" He released her nipple to kiss her again as he began to pump in and out of her body as she begged him to go harder, faster. He rode her as she desired, plunging into her warm, velvet wetness, putting his hands under her hot bottom, lifting her hips off the bed and spreading her wider to plunge even deeper. She moaned as he entered her again and again, his cock pressing against the plug in her ass.

He felt her clench, then explode around his cock as she climaxed. He continued to take her and she was quickly climaxing again, even stronger the second time.

"Oh God," she screamed, as she felt herself explode while her husband continued to fuck her. "Oh, Ian, I love you so much," she said, as she felt him take complete possession of her body.

He smiled down at her and said, "You are my love, Sam, I will always, always treasure you." They made love slowly until they both shared the ultimate surrender together, their bodies in perfect harmony as they climaxed one last time. When they were both sated, he rolled to his side and gathered her to spoon against his stomach.

She gave a small yelp as her bottom was pulled against his groin, but then snuggled even closer into her husband, secure and happy in the knowledge that he loved her, would protect her, and, yes, would punish her for the rest of her life, just the way she needed and desired.

Sam stood and looked up at her husband, giving him a soft, sweet smile. "Thank you," she whispered, as he picked up the pillow she had been sitting on and adjusted her skirt to cover her naked bottom. When her backside was bare under her clothing, she was required to lift her skirt before sitting down, making sure that her punished, bare skin connected directly with whatever surface she was sitting on.

Ian had watched earlier as she unobtrusively rearranged her clothing to sit on the pillow, and had whispered, "Good girl".

Samantha had blushed, knowing many other women were also sitting on soft cushions, and trying not to be embarrassed. After he smoothed her skirt back down to cover her, he smiled back.

"You are most welcome, sweetheart." He stood back and guided her out of the church pew. Still very, very tender, she would have found it extremely hard to remain still throughout the sermon, especially since he had yet to remove her anal plug. She hadn't even asked, evidently having learned that it would only be removed when he decided her lesson fully learned. As they waited their turn to greet the pastor, he remembered how their morning had started.

*****

When he'd awakened her, Sam had moaned, looking at the clock, and had been about to ask why they were getting up an hour earlier than necessary, when Ian provided the answer.

"You need to make your entry, sweetie," he had said, as he bent down to kiss her lightly. She slid out of the bed and pulled her nightgown over her head. However, as she opened a drawer for a fresh pair of panties, Ian had shaken his head.

"No, you'll remain bare-bottomed today." Blushing hotly, she had made a quick trip to the bathroom, returning to their bedroom and walking to the small desk against a wall. Ian had moved her stool to the desk and held her arm as she climbed onto it, moaning softly as the presence of her punishment plug made itself known. Her face colored again when Ian handed her the photo he had printed out while she was in the bathroom. He didn't speak as she took it, seeing a photo of her own bottom, her face turned toward the camera showing tracks of her tears, her hand looking extremely pale as she held her punishment plug along the divide of what was, without a doubt, a very well punished derrière. She noted that her husband had achieved his goal—the color of her spanked ass perfectly matched the burgundy color of her punishment plug.

"Make your entry and then you may bring it to me," Ian instructed, bending to kiss the top of her head. "I'll start breakfast."

Opening her journal, Sam wondered if other heads-of-households took close up photos of their wives' bottoms after a 'lesson'. She wondered whether other submissive wives were required to make such personal, embarrassing entries that would remain as evidence of their misbehaviors. Recognizing that it didn't matter what other couples did, only what Ian and she did, Sam spent twenty minutes writing in her journal, describing not only every single detail of her punishment, but confessing her transgressions and her feelings about what had happened.

By the time she slid the embarrassing photo into the sleeve opposite her entry, praying he had remembered to delete the intimate photo from his phone, she was reminded of the importance of obeying the rules she and Ian had set down on paper as a guide to what was expected in their lives. Her rules for behavior were copied onto pages in their own sleeves at the beginning of her journal. She was a bit ashamed at how many pages had already been filled in the rather short time they had been married. Sliding off her stool, she winced as she stood and carried the book into the kitchen. Ian took the journal, handing her a cup of coffee. Samantha had sipped silently as he carefully read the entry.

"You did a good job, Samantha," he said, closing the journal and drawing her into his arms. His hug and kiss once more made her feel forgiven. They ate their breakfast and then got ready for church, Ian again taking the time to give her another wonderful massage with the healing arnica lotion.

*****

Moving forward and greeting other couples as they walked towards the nave of the chapel, Sam remembered the first time they had attended church the morning after her first true punishment. She had been extremely embarrassed when Ian had stopped at the doors to the aisle, and picked up a pillow out of the bin provided. Blushing furiously, she had refused to acknowledge his offering, not wanting anyone to know she had been spanked the evening before. Not speaking, Ian had shrugged, dropping the pillow back into the bin and leading her to a seat. Samantha smiled, remembering how awful the wooden pew had felt against her tender rear and how she had never denied any offered comfort since. Ian never made a big deal out of it, no one really did. It was quite common to see the bin emptying while everyone settled down for the service. Everyone understood that the punishment had been delivered, the lesson hopefully learned and no one wanted anyone else to have to suffer further. It was very rare that a husband would deny his wife, deciding that perhaps an hour or so spent sitting on the hard wooden seat without the benefit of a pillow might drive the lesson home even more completely.

They walked down the aisle and shook hands with the pastor. "That was a lovely sermon, Father Keith," Samantha offered, and accepted a warm squeeze of her hand. She saw the pastor's eyes drop to the pillow and blushed, grateful he didn't know that she was both plugged and naked under her dress. Sam released the pastor's hand as he smiled gently down at her. Ian extended his free hand to offer his own handshake as he tossed the pillow back into the bin to join several others. They would be gathered and laundered before the next service. Ian guided Sam to the fellowship hall.

Their church offered a pot luck lunch after Sunday services, and everyone was encouraged to participate. Their community believed that socializing in a safe environment helped each individual not only connect more closely to one another, but to offer support and encouragement to their fellow members. Before the services, Ian had delivered their offering of a vegetable and rice casserole, as well as a pan of Sam's delicious brownies. He grinned as he remembered the lovely sight of Sam's bare bottom peeking out from beneath her short gown as she bent to remove the dessert from the oven that morning.

The room was full of laughing people as they all helped to prepare for the meal, men setting up tables and chairs while their wives brought out the food. When everything was ready, lines began to form, parents preparing plates for their hungry children as the childless adults patiently waited for their own turn at the loaded tables.

Ian and Sam filled their plates and joined a group of their closest friends who had waved them over. Having pulled her 'bottom blankie' from one of his pockets, Ian spread it across a chair before nodding for Sam to sit. He watched his wife lift her dress before sitting down carefully, knowing she was grateful for the slight padding on the folding chairs. This cloth was from their personal stock, and was always carried when she was required to go without panties. Having her sit bare-assed required preparation but Ian didn't mind, as he believed it helped focus Sam's mind on her behavior. He pushed her chair in and sat beside her. Once their friends were seated, all bowed their heads as Owen said a blessing. Only one seat was unoccupied, the rest containing couples that they had grown to love.

As they ate, Sally, one of Sam's closest friends, leaned over and asked, "Are you okay, Sam? You look a little flushed. I hope you aren't coming down with that bug that's going around." Sally and her husband Steve had been the last to arrive at their table, and hadn't seen Sam take her seat.

Sam blushed but whispered back, "Yes, Sally, I'm fine. Just have a very sore bottom."

Sally's smile was bright as she exclaimed, "Ah, me too!" The women laughed and their husbands grinned. Samantha was comfortable with their friends and had long since felt able to be honest, especially when she knew that other women were also often dealing with their own sore posteriors. She relaxed, though she still shifted in her seat, the plug inside her making it impossible to sit comfortably.

Everyone talked about their week and then talked about the sermon. The subject had been about forgiveness and understanding. Sam had listened carefully, and understood exactly what forgiveness meant to her, as she had experienced it only the night before and felt cleansed and pure again. Last night had been a great example of forgiveness; perhaps that was why the pastor's words had touched her heart so much. Ian took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Smiling up at him, she squeezed back, understanding he had also acknowledged how apropos the sermon had been. They looked up as someone approached their table and Sam turned her gaze to Ian. Had he planned this? She didn't catch his eye and looked back at the man taking the only free seat.

"Hello, Dean," Ian said. "Glad to have you join us."

Dean Koonig smiled and set his loaded plate down. "Believe me, the pleasure is all mine. This looks absolutely delicious, and I'm starving."

Everyone laughed except for Samantha. Ian saw that she was pretending to be exceptionally hungry, keeping her eyes on her plate as she forked up her food. He shook his head slightly and, bending towards his wife, whispered in her ear so that only she could hear. "Do you need me to remove your plug and insert my finger, young lady?"

Samantha instantly bolted upright and shook her head, before swallowing and saying, "No, Sir. Um, no thank you."

Ian smiled and looked at Dean, then back to his wife, his smile fading and a warning glimmer appearing in his eyes. Sam hesitated for only a moment longer until she saw Ian begin to push back his chair. Experience had taught her that he would do as he had threatened and wouldn't care that half the church would see him attend to his wife in such a way. Clutching the edge of the table, she blurted, "Dean, I need to apologize to you!" Not realizing how frantic she sounded, she blushed as everyone stopped eating to look at her.

Ian hid his smile as he picked up his glass of tea and took a sip.

Dean, his mouth full, looked between the two of them, swallowed, and said, "Um, okay, Samantha but whatever for? Can we eat first or does it need to be right now?" He watched as she looked over at her husband and saw her squirm a bit as Ian lifted a single finger from the side of his glass.

"Yes!" she practically shouted.

Dean laid his fork down, sat back and smiled, "Okay, okay. You don't need to shout, I promise you, my hearing is just fine."

Ian chuckled and watched Sam blush. He reached over and placed his hand over hers. "Easy, babe. Just take a deep breath, calm down and try to speak normally, okay?"

She nodded her head, knowing that she had drawn attention to their table. No one had resumed eating as they were all waiting for her to speak. Taking a breath, she relaxed and sighed before saying, "I'm sorry everyone. Um, I just need to apologize for something and didn't want to forget."

Everyone nodded, no explanation needed. It was obvious from her behavior that she had been instructed to do something, and since they all understood what would occur if she failed to obey that instruction, not a single one of them wished to hamper her in any way.

Dean watched different emotions roll across Samantha's face and said, "Really, Samantha. I'm sure it will be okay. I certainly don't remember you doing anything to offend me in any way. Just tell me what's on your mind."

Sam nodded and gave him a small smile. "Well, it's my friend, you see."

Ian chuckled and shook his head. His wife never failed to both amaze and amuse him.

Dean looked confused. "Your friend? Honey, you are blessed with many friends. Have I ever even met this one?"

Sam berated herself internally. God, she was totally blowing this. Dean would think she was a complete idiot. Taking a deep breath, she answered, "No. I mean, not really. You must have at least spoken to her but I don't think you really met her."

Ian decided to help his wife out, before everyone's food became ice cold and inedible. He squeezed Sam's hand and offered his help. "I believe what Samantha is trying so hard to explain, is this: Samantha's best friend is Abigail Pierce, and…" he saw the look of shock and recognition on Dean's face.

"Abby?" he said, looking back at Sam. "Abby Pierce is your friend?" His eyes widened. "Oh, God—
you
are Sam!"

Samantha nodded and smiled, glad to finally be on the same wavelength.

Ian was watching Dean closely and felt some inner vibes strumming through his body. The man had certainly acted like he not only knew Abigail, but by calling her Abby, Ian knew the man had at least talked to her. He looked down at Sam, nodding for her to continue.

"Yes, we've been friends since childhood. Well, Ian and I bought the ticket for your book review for her birthday and, well, I was supposed to sit down with her beforehand and sort of explain about your book… but—"

"But you didn't, did you?" Dean asked, already knowing the answer. "That's why she was totally unprepared for the class, and even brought the wrong book, isn't it?" Sam nodded her head, and Dean said, "Wow, Samantha. That wasn't very fair to her, was it? She was brave during class, but I guarantee she was embarrassed. It certainly would have helped her if she'd had some idea of what to expect. I can't imagine what she must have thought." He shook his head and chuckled. "
The Door to December.
You can blame the play on my own book's title on my publisher, though I suppose she was right—it obviously helped draw at least one reader to examine my own book, even if it was by accident."