Things felt like they had been slipping for a while and she knew she needed to do something to get them back. It was hard though as in many ways she didn’t have the energy or the inclination. That was part of the issue really. They sort of mirrored each other and when one was off, the other fell off too. They weren’t meant to be like this and had tried hard to prevent it; that had been one of the main reasons for exploring a D/s relationship, and yet, ironically, here they were.
Sometimes she became passive, rather than submissive and that was what had happened this time. She had let life, and its bits and bobs, get in the way. Anyway, for some reason a thought had settled over her and she was doing her best to make it grow to fruition. Getting ready was helping to be honest and as she chose the right clothes to wear and did her makeup, the heavy beat of the music added to her mindset in spurring her on.
She found herself moving to the heaviness of the music as she got dressed, outlining her eyes in black kohl and applying the dark lipstick. The fishnets were the final touch and they did it for her in a way she hoped they would for him – sexy but slutty, desirable but available, strong but vulnerable. Looking in the mirror she danced a little for herself and felt that her transformation was complete, well complete enough for now.
Fortunately she didn’t have long to wait before she heard the door. There was a delay as he set his bag down in the hall and he took it all in; she could read the surprise and the intrigue on his face as he came into the room. God he was sexy standing there in his suit, and she wondered what the women at work really felt about him. She was glad she was doing this. She was his but also, he was hers. His brow raised a little in question when he saw her and she noticed his cock starting to thicken and push against the thin material of his trousers.
“Hey. I’m Lola.” She lets that settle a moment or two and waits for him to let her know he is ready.
“Pleased to meet you Lola,” he says, extending his hand.
“That’s nice,” she replied, “But I don’t really need nice. I need you to be very un-nice to me. In fact I am not the sort of girl who does well with nice, or soft, or gentle, or loving. I need it hard. I need it bad. I need to be broken and smashed and taken apart bit by bit, and only then can I be nice. But I promise if you can do this then I will be everything you have ever wanted. I will be your every dark fantasy, every deepest desire and every unknown thought.”
Again she gives him a moment to adjust, but looks him straight in the eyes as she does and seems to notice something changing. Spurred on, she puts her hand on his cock and moves her face to that she can whisper directly in his ear.
“I have run you a bath and left a drink for you upstairs, so why don’t you go and get changed and when you come down, I want you to be rough with me and give me what I need. I mean that too. I am dirty and bad and need to be your slut. I want to be pushed and broken and hurt until I feel the full force of you.” She looks at him again and something tangible passes between them, this husband and wife who are becoming something else.
She sits on the chair and waits, keeping her attitude around her. Her legs are open and her fingers find the wetness between them through the holes in the top of her fishnets. Her skirt is short and she knows that this position will allow him to see that she is just the right sort of dirty. When he comes back down he has changed into his jeans but he his chest is bare. He carries a few items in his hands, one of which is the howler. His eyes are dark and narrowed and she knows that he has taken her bait.
“Get your hands out of there, stand up and take your top off,” he tells her. His tone is controlled, calm, and suggests he means business without being unkind. She feels the thrill as he watches her undress and he then orders her to lay across the arm of the sofa. He flips up her skirt and spanks her hard across the bum, several times. It stings but it is like a warmth seeping through her. It is what she needs, what she has been wanting, without even knowing it.
She remembers suddenly that she is Lola. She is not his wife and she is not his submissive, she is something different altogether. A slut. A needy wanton thing who only cares about how this all feels. Perhaps she can be his slut in time, but for the moment, that is how how this rolls. She wants it, but she doesn’t think he can give it to her. She doesn’t think he has it in him, to hurt her like she needs and so she goads him, asking if that is all he has, the best he can do. She tells him that it will take more to break her than a couple of spanks over the end of the sofa.
She senses him prickle and he moves across the room. She turns her head to look when he stops her.
“Don’t move or I’ll restrain you.” His voice is harsher now. “Stay right where you are with your arse up in the air and wait for me. I’ll show you what I can do if you are a good girl.” And then he adds seemingly with an afterthought, “Little tiger!”
God he was good. He knew just what to say to keep on top of her. He was squashing Lola right before her eyes, which she knew meant that he had accepted her fight. It fuelled her spirit though and she turned her head and shot him a glance as he walked back over to her. He had the howler in his hand and held it so close to her face that she could smell the rubber, as he let it fall through his fingers, stroking the rubber fall a couple of times for his own amusement.
“Your safeword is red,” he said suddenly, the show over. “Remember to use it.” And without a backward look he was back behind her again and the blows began to fall. He didn’t begin gently but fell straight into a rhythm, the force of the strokes punching at her, as her muscles gave way. She didn’t fight it, didn’t even want to, despite the sting and the throb and the heat.
“You ok?” he said, pausing for a second and leaning towards her.
“Fine thanks,” she replied through gritted teeth, trying to use the tone she would do if answering the question simply about how her day had gone.
“Perfect,” he whispered in her ear, “then I can keep going, which is good as I am just starting to enjoy myself.”
She believed him too. Although he fought it within himself, he was a sadist at heart and needed little encouragement once that switch was flicked. Being Lola had given his the green light that he needed and she hoped that she could take it after all. She felt him press something against her then with a release of material of her tights, he shoved a dildo quickly into her. She gasped and heard him laugh a little in satisfaction.
The feel of the cold lube being massaged into her arsehole told her what was coming next and the realisation hit at the same time as the plug was popped into her. Without discussion, the blows started again and she felt like she was losing. The fight was slowly draining out of her and although she shouted at him that she needed it harder, she knew she was close to the edge. She kept with it though, calling for more and more as the pain turned just to warmth and as her tears fell she started to drift.
He read her well, suddenly yanking the fishnets down over her bum to leave them around her ankles. Pushing her legs as far apart as the tights would allow her ankles to go, he pulled out the plug and pushed himself into her. Leaning his body over hers, he grabbed her hair and stood back up again, so that her head was tilted back. He fucked her then, harder than he ever had before, pounding into her, her whole body relaxing into the force of him, absorbing him as he came deep inside her.
He let her lie, rag doll-like beneath him for a time while he stroked her back, finally withdrawing from her and leaning in to put his arms around her and pulling her back up to standing. He turned her around and kissed her hard, feeling her suppliance.
“You okay?” he said.
“M-hmmm,” she replied.
“Good. Because I am far from finished with you, my gorgeous Lola.” he said, pushing her down onto her knees and feeding his cock into her mouth.