A Work in Progress, Part Four #18+, NSFW

Hello my friends,

Thank you for continuing to follow my latest piece of spanking fiction. If you have not yet read the first three segments, you can find them here:

A Work in Progress, Part One

A Work in Progress, Part Two

A Work in Progress, Part Three

I would like to dedicate this particular segment to my dear friends across the pond, Implacable and his beautiful bride. May this bring you joy and lift your spirits today.

XOXO,

nora

Part Four

            At the sight of the strap, I began to tremble.  There was no doubt in my mind that Grant had placed the strap there, deliberately.  For my eyes.  The strap was meant for me.  I would be made to submit.

          Anne-Marie rose from the floor and embraced me.  She held me until the trembling lessened.  When she pulled away, she held my shoulders, looking me in the eyes.

          “You need to obey now, Nora,” she said with kindness, but quite firmly.  “When Grant gives you instruction, you must obey immediately.  If not, I’m afraid there will be consequences, my dear.  You will suffer greatly for any disobedience.”

          I had chosen this path.  I wanted this for Matthew, and for myself.  I slipped the strap of my dress off my shoulder.  Anne-Marie smiled at me and returned to her place on the floor beside her husband.

          Grant said nothing as I removed my dress, slowly.  Feeling very much on display, I removed my brassiere and then my panties, allowing all of it to drop to the floor.  Next came my stockings and my garter belt.  Standing before them, completely bare and skin covered in goosebumps, I could only stare at the floor.

          It was Grant who spoke first.

          “Pick up your clothes and fold them neatly.  Place them on the chair.  I would advise that you never again act so carelessly with the things that we have provided for you,” he commanded. 

          The tone of his voice encouraged me to comply immediately.  I had never felt as awkward and as sexually aware of myself as I was in that moment.  When my clothes were folded neatly and placed on the chair, I stood silently before them.

          “When you are told to stand before us in this manner, you will cross your arms behind your back,” Grant stated.  As I complied, he went on. “Spread your legs slightly, shoulders back, head down please.”

          In this position, there was no hiding from their prying eyes.  All of my most sensitive, secret areas were displayed, my breasts thrust out, rudely.  My cheeks burned in shame.

          “Anne-Marie, my love. Come and sit on my lap, my girl,” Grant said, taking his wife’s hand and pulling her to him.  Soon, Anne-Marie was straddling her husband and as he kissed her deeply, his hands roughly squeezed her behind.  He began to grind his wife against him and she cried out in pleasure.  I tried to keep my eyes averted but found it impossible not to take in the scene being played out before me.  My heart was racing as I watched Anne-Marie nearing climax.

          “Stop,” Grant ordered, and Anne-Marie immediately came to a halt.  Her face was flushed and I could see her nipples peaked beneath her lingerie.  “Stand up and remove your clothing.”

          Anne-Marie climbed off her husband’s lap and began to undress.  I could see the bulge in Grant’s pants, fighting to be released.  When Anne-Marie stood before her husband, fully nude, and in the same position that I was in, Grant addressed her again.

          “Pick up the strap, Anne-Marie,” Grant said. 

          Anne-Marie picked up the strap. 

          “Give it to me,” he ordered, hand outstretched.

          Anne-Marie handed him the strap.

          “Face the hearth, bend over, and clasp your hands behind your knees,” He told her, his voice hard as steel. 

          Anne-Marie’s obedience was instantaneous.  In only a moment, she was bent in half, her bare behind pointing toward the ceiling, her sex puckered and fully visible between her legs, hands clasped behind her knees.  I could see that her sex was completely bare, and she was glistening with the juices of her desire.

          Grant stared at me and I looked back down at the floor.  Head down, I reminded myself. 

          I could sense his movements and soon he was standing directly behind Anne-Marie.  He raised his arm high over his head and brought the strap down upon her bare bottom with great force.

          The sound vibrated throughout the room. 

          Anne-Marie’s body rocked, but she remained in place, her bottom offered up for another kiss of the strap.

          Grant continued to apply the strap and a red, hot band quickly appeared on Anne-Marie’s sit spot.  As the whipping continued, I could hear Anne-Marie’s cries growing louder.

          As soon as it started, the whipping stopped.  The room was silent but for Anne-Marie’s sobs. 

          Grant laid the strap upon Anne-Marie’s still bent frame and sat back down in the chair.  He sipped his drink coolly, and I could feel his eyes upon me. 

          “Come here, Nora,” he said, finally.

          I walked slowly to him.  Standing before him, it came naturally to resume the position that he had just taught me.  I saw a slight turn of his mouth… a small smile, perhaps?

          “Kneel, please,” he commanded.

          I kneeled before him.

          “Spread your thighs wide.  Hands behind your back. Head down unless told otherwise,” he growled. 

          I obeyed.  My face was aflame knowing that my desire was no doubt quite evident to him.  I could feel the juices upon my thighs. 

          “Nora, I am going to whip you tonight, just as I whipped Anne-Marie.  If you take this discipline like a good girl, with no complaint, Anne-Marie and I will accept your submission and we will continue forward with this relationship.  If you are unable to obey, or unable to receive the pain that I would like to inflict upon you, I will retract my offer to dominate you, as will Anne-Marie,” he said these words to me in a low, commanding voice.  All traces of the Grant from earlier that afternoon, the gentle man who had enjoyed having me on his arm, were gone.  This Grant was undeniably stern and unwavering.  There was no doubt that this Grant was to be obeyed. 

          Despite the fact that I was trembling at my core, I whispered “Yes, Sir”.

          “Very well,” he said.  “Fetch the strap and bring it to me.”

          I walked slowly to Anne-Marie, unable to take my eyes from the red band of pain that Grant had painted across her bare behind.  Her sobs had quieted, and I saw that her eyes were closed as she remained in position.  Hesitantly, I reached out and took the strap from where it lay, just above her well-marked backside. 

          I walked back to Grant and handed him the strap.  I considered running from the room, to safety, back home to Matthew.  But my body betrayed me and I waited for his next command.

          “Good girl,” Grant said.  “Go and stand next to Anne-Marie.  Now, please bend over and assume the same position.”

          I did as requested and raised my bare bottom for this man.  The confusion that I had felt inside began to fade away and all I knew in that moment was the sound of his voice.  That is, until the first time the strap landed on my bare skin.

          I cried out in pain and struggled to stay in position.  How had Anne-Marie endured this?  I had never felt such searing pain.  Before my mind could fully process, another searing stroke landed right across the tops of my thighs.

          I couldn’t help myself, I rose, attempting to rub the pain away.  There were tears in my eyes as I looked at him, silently pleading him to make this end.  Grant only glared at me, as if daring me to defy his will.  I knew that I must obey.

          Slowly, I bent back down into position, determined to see this through.  The strokes began to fall upon my upturned bottom, searing my skin and my soul.  I knew nothing but pain in that moment.

          Grant stopped after placing another dozen strokes upon my sit spot.  The tears had started, and I was shaking, but I remained in position.

          “Anne-Marie,” Grant said, softly. “Come here, please.”

          Anne-Marie complied, and Grant took her into his arms, kissing her gently. 

          “You did well, my dear,” he whispered.  They held each other for a moment, as I remained in position, bare and vulnerable, and marked.

          Handing Anne-Marie the strap, he said, “Make her our girl, dear.  Do not go easy on her.  Nora is quite spirited and needs a guiding hand.  Between the two of us, I have no doubt that we can whip her right into shape.”

          Soon, Anne-Marie was besides me, strap in hand.  She rested her hand lightly on my back and encouraged me to be brave. 

          Anne-Marie obeyed her husband’s every word.  She did not go easy on me, and by the end of my whipping, I was their girl.  I belonged to them in this moment, and I knew that I would do everything necessary to please them.

          It seemed my journey had begun. I was a work in progress.