Authors: Nancy Madore
“Let’s go out to eat,” he suggested, not missing the point of the racket.
“I don’t feel like going out,” she replied shortly.
“Then I’ll order in.”
“I can manage,” she insisted, but her tone was laced with martyrdom.
“That wasn’t a suggestion. I
am
ordering in. Do you have any preferences?”
Marcie tightened her grip on the pan she was holding in her hand. Even though she was in no mood to cook and loved having food brought in, she was, for the moment, more preoccupied with an almost perverse desire to upset him. His control was making her feel entirely out of control. “Fine!” she snapped, lifting the pan off the burner and throwing it violently into the sink, causing a thunderous clash that startled even her.
“No preferences,” he murmured, picking up the phone and calmly ordering dinner for them. “I don’t want it right away,” he added to the person on the other end. “Deliver it in a few hours, say, around seven-thirty.”
Marcie felt a twinge of excitement when she heard him say this—in spite of her bad temper. Even so, when Bill hung up the phone and looked at her, she said testily, “I’m not in the mood, so you may as well have had it delivered right away.”
He actually laughed at her. “If you think I delayed dinner to make love to you after what you just pulled you have another think coming,” he said. “You’re going to have to apologize to me first. Anyway, I have something else in mind.”
Marcie’s heart thudded violently as Bill approached her. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked.
“Oh, I think you know,” he said, abruptly picking her up and easily slinging her over his shoulder.
“Put me down!” she screamed. She kicked furiously with her feet and pummeled his back with her hands. He remained unperturbed, holding her firmly, and occasionally erupting into laughter over one of her efforts, causing her to struggle even harder. He held her legs securely with one hand while his other hand came up to caress the round fullness of her bottom. Then he raised that hand up and brought it back down, hard, on one plump buttock. Marcie screeched, once again remembering his words from that earlier struggle, where he threatened a “good, hard spanking.” She screamed again and beat on his back all the harder.
Bill, meanwhile, took her into their bedroom and dropped her onto the bed. She immediately flipped herself over—onto her back—and tried to get up, but he was too quick for her, grasping her arms and immediately turning her back onto her stomach the way he had originally set her there. Then he swiftly got onto the bed and straddled her, barricading her legs between his own. She was fully pinned beneath him.
Marcie continued to make a great effort to get away from him, in spite of the futility of it, wiggling and squirming and kicking and screaming. She was startlingly aware of his strength and energy as he held her. He secured both of her wrists with one strong hand and held them fast, even as he began lifting her skirt with his other hand. He did all this leisurely, playing with her, and actually enjoying her efforts to escape him. When her skirt was brought up around her waist, Marcie began her struggles anew, thrashing and bucking violently in an effort to throw Bill off of her. All the while she alternated between screaming and crying and flat out ordering him to stop. She held nothing back—something inside her knew she didn’t have to—and Bill, very gradually, as it suited him to do so, subdued her.
When Bill had effectively restrained Marcie, having raised her skirt and lowered her panties, he began striking her buttocks with his bare, open hand, landing the blows hard with loud, resounding
thwacks.
Marcie screamed and fought like something out of the wild. Her whole body struggled in vain to escape his large, firm hands.
The spanking was not overly painful, but the blows were leveled with enough force to cause the flesh to sting and smart, leaving it sore and tender after the fact. The use of his bare hand instead of another object seemed exceedingly intimate somehow, and she was likewise jarred by the disparity of being struck by the hands that were usually so gentle and accommodating, and which normally brought her pleasure. She was aware, too, of the control Bill once again maintained, for she realized instinctively that his hand struck only hard enough to hurt her on the surface, rather than to actually injure her. That was the crux of the matter, really, that the worst part of it was the violation to her ego. Bill wasn’t just punishing her; he was subduing her.
Marcie was panting from her exertions to fight Bill off, more winded than she had ever been. These exertions made her feel strangely alive, with every molecule pulsating vigorous energy. All her emotions of that day, the anger, fear, resentment and so forth, rushed together in a sudden spark that burned hot and then dissipated. And always lingering in the back corner of her mind was the awareness of Bill’s ultimate strength and control, not just physically, but emotionally, too. Coming together with that awareness was the realization that she needed Bill to a degree that actually frightened her. At some point it occurred to her that her struggles, which she knew all along were in vain, were actually for her own benefit and indulgence. All the horrible sentiments that had been building up inside her throughout the day were disappearing; yet somehow she couldn’t help feeling that she was losing a part of herself, too.
Marcie suddenly burst into tears, abandoning her struggles and weeping loudly in defeat. Bill stopped spanking her and took her in his arms. She clung to him with a raw need that left her feeling wide open and exposed. Her defenses had all been stripped away and she seemed incapable of getting them back. Her buttocks were sore and exceedingly warm. She wept cleansing tears, while Bill held her close, kissing her tears and tenderly hushing her cries.
Somehow, inexplicably, Marcie was no longer weeping tears of frustration but crying out with passion, suddenly kissing Bill hungrily while clinging to him in desperation. It was like a first, long-awaited kiss that took away her very breath. She gave herself to him completely, fully lost in her desire. It consumed her absolutely, and she could not have stopped herself from being swept up in the tide of it even if she had wanted to. But she had no thoughts of stopping. The spanking had broken down her emotional barriers, and it had shattered any remaining physical barriers as well. The sharp, stinging pain had awakened and warmed her flesh and the resulting heat had radiated into her womb, causing it to expand and contract and open to him. Her body was overwhelmed with moist warmth and yearning.
Bill took all of this in stride with his usual composure. He seemed to know that this would be the end result of what he had done, and he reveled in his utter victory over Marcie. He hadn’t minded her angry words or her violent struggles. On the contrary, he was pleased; for without the struggle where was the victory? He felt his heart swell with love and desire for her. And he did not feel in the least remorseful over his treatment of her. Hadn’t he given her fair warning that this was the way it would be between them? For him, this was much more than mere domination. It was his fundamental belief that it was a necessary part of their relationship to keep it fresh and new, for it cleansed away all the pent-up resentment and insecurity. For him, it was a lifestyle. He hoped that Marcie felt the same. She had responded the way he had hoped she would in all that had occurred between them so far, but he feared that she might feel differently afterward. This life was not for every woman, nor certainly for every man. But he had grown attached to Marcie, his thoughts were all of her now, and he wondered how he would bear it if she changed her mind and left him. As if the fear had been realized he suddenly clung to her more violently, causing her to cry out in surprise.
Their subsequent lovemaking was passionate and their movements in sync. Marcie was soft and yielding and he took her gently at first, but in the end succumbed to the delicious power of taking what he wanted from his victory, plundering all that she offered and more. His strength, which had stripped her down earlier, now filled her with everything that she needed. His unrestrained passion ricocheted off hers as they virtually consumed each other. Every limb seemed entwined within another; they were so closely joined that Marcie lost track of where she ended and Bill began. At one point, they rolled together across the bed so that she was on top. This was what she liked best, as it gave her the power to move over him in exactly the way that stimulated her the most. As she began working her hips against him she felt no sense of separateness in her activity. It seemed they worked together as one and that Bill derived as much pleasure from her movements as she did herself. There was no sense of urgency or of being hurried; she gyrated against him without a single self-conscious thought. Her intimacy with Bill was unlike anything she had experienced so far in her life. She was ever aware of his unconditional acceptance and love as she ground herself vigorously against him in search of satisfaction. Without warning, a thunderous upsurge of pleasure burst through her, startling her in its intensity. Her release triggered his, and he came together with her. She collapsed over him when it was over and he held her close. She listened attentively to the solid thudding of his heart.
But as wonderful as the moment had been, Marcie felt confused. How could she accept Bill’s domination of her while she feared her loss of self?
“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he said, lightly drawing circles over her back with his fingertips.
“I’m afraid.”
“What of?”
She wasn’t sure, so she told him what she felt. “I feel like I’m losing myself.”
“Why do you feel that?”
She hesitated, not withholding from him, but with uncertainty. She had never felt so free to express herself before and she believed she could tell him anything. Still…“I don’t want to be tamed.”
In one swift, gliding movement he rolled her onto her back and came up over her so that he could look fully into her face. “I don’t want you tamed either.”
“But…”
“When I took over tonight, I did it in order to bring us closer together, not to tame you.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“But the spanking…” She was suddenly embarrassed. She couldn’t believe it had happened. That spankings occurred in the world of sexual submission she was well aware, but this was more like discipline. She shuddered at the implications.
“That was the best way I could think of to subdue you.”
“Right. That’s what I mean.”
“Okay, well, then we’re talking about something else. I didn’t spank you to change you, but to subdue you for that moment. I did it so my night would be more pleasant and because I believed yours would be, too. You were out of control. That doesn’t mean I expect you to change the way you are. I dominated you this time, in this moment. Next time, I hope you will fight just as hard, even though I’ll defeat you again.” He smiled an evil smile when he said this. His smile annoyed her, but only mildly.
“I’m not sure I get it.”
“Don’t you?” he asked. “Let me ask you this then, did you enjoy the struggle?”
“Well…”
“I did, too,” he said, knowing her answer already. “I loved it, in fact. It gave us both a chance to equalize things.”
“But that’s just it. I hate that you always get to win.”
“Do you? Don’t you
expect
me to win? I wonder if you would ever want me again if I lost even once.” She wondered, too, astounded by his reasoning. It was true that his power and strength, so displayed, was an enormous part of what attracted her to him. She was momentarily too sidetracked by the happiness she felt to concentrate fully on all the other things she was feeling.
“I love this honesty,” she admitted.
“Me, too. It’s so much better this way. That’s why I would never want to change you…or tame you, as you put it.” His hand continued to move over her skin possessively as he spoke to her in his gentle voice. “It’s kind of like a game, or a sport. If you were to let me win, where would the challenge be, or the fun? The struggle has to be real. For a man to truly dominate a woman he has to really be the stronger person, physically and emotionally. For a woman to submit to that man she has to genuinely feel that he has conquered her.”
Marcie thought about this as she snuggled up close to Bill and drifted off to sleep.
In time, when the novelty of their extraordinary lifestyle wore off and Marcie became more comfortable with the unconventional peculiarity of it, she was able to more carefully examine it. She was then able to discern what it was that had initially attracted her to Bill, and how she really felt about his dominance over her. That it enhanced their sex life, drawing out and developing her innermost sensuality, she realized from the start. What she wanted to understand more fully was what this way of life would mean to her emotionally.
Each and every time Marcie submitted to Bill’s dominance, one more barrier that she had built up over her lifetime came crashing down, and their intimacy grew. The things she believed in and wished for remained safe and intact, for she found that Bill did respect her, and he would even submit to her when it was in their best interest for him to do so. Marcie seemed to be growing stronger within herself with each capitulation in her relationship. As her trust in Bill continued to grow, she felt safer giving more of herself to him. The intimacy they shared inside the lifestyle was undeniably distinctive and outstanding.
Yet, even as their bond was strengthened, Marcie found that she would still become, at times, dissatisfied and unhappy. This was not exclusive to her relationship with Bill. It was simply the woman she was; hampered by the fears she had accumulated in her various experiences with men. In most of her past relationships, she would have acted on these feelings by simply pouting or blowing up, crying and ranting; using any recent occurrence that would serve as an excuse but really just needing to get her feelings out. But once the mood passed, she was left feeling empty and distant, with a wider expanse now to bridge in order to achieve intimacy. Her partners would often trudge back into her good graces miserably, never really understanding her or the reasons for their penitence, and the relationships would be marked for death. With Bill, she could rant, rave, cry or scream; knowing all the while that he would keep
them
safe, and even enjoy the challenge of it all while he did so. He had brought her to a place where she could express her feelings while all the while being accepted, loved, supported and protected. Even through the severest spankings, she knew that Bill was fully aware of her and her needs. He had been perfectly right when he told her that this kind of control had to be genuinely maintained. A man really did have to be exceptionally strong to pull it off. It was ludicrous to think that anyone could do it. If he had been a lesser man, she knew for a certainty the whole dominance thing would have bored her by now.