Content: Erotic Romance
This title contains explicit language and BDSM elements. Adults only.

LOVING WILL by Eve Boston

Excerpt

. . .

He looked serious, thoughtful. “I want to spank you sexually,” he said, looking deep into my eyes.

His words took me by surprise, and I trembled, but I didn’t look away. I was intrigued. “Why?”

“I think a sexual spanking might be cathartic, cleansing, freeing for you, to be able to let go of your dark shadows and let them free to become my cares, too, to build a sense of belonging and connection.”

I cringed a bit. “I have to admit I am half curious, and half petrified. I have no experience with anything but spreading my legs, closing my eyes, and waiting for the man to finish. But in my head, while it is happening, I imagine that I am loved, and that is what I miss the most, the belief that love is happening. But a sexual spanking?”

“Not a punishment kind of spanking, for you have done no wrong and have no reason to fear me. I’m no dungeon master. I have been in that lifestyle before, but I’m a little too emotional and sensitive to just flog the hell out of someone who I don’t know or care about. As actors say, what’s my motivation?”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Somehow I can’t picture you in that lifestyle. You don’t seem the type.”

“Don’t be too sure. I have retained the things from it that I believe are worthy of knowing and using with someone who I care for, to help her. Someone like you.”

He ran a finger up my leg, and I shuddered with desire.

“I see what you mean,” I said. He had a sense of timing and a manner of speaking and touching that did command attention. “A little. Go on.”

“Back to the concept of spanking as a cathartic, healing of the spirit. I don’t mean to harm you. Far from it. I’m looking to enrich you with a different experience, which you will only associate with me, that you will grow to crave and yearn for when you think of me.”

Tingles went up my spine as his arm went around me. “Are you talking about role play, such as headmaster/student, nurse/patient, or some other scenario?”

He smiled. “I think both of us are a little too mature for the plaid-skirted schoolgirl pulling down her panties for a paddling, although some men are certainly enthusiastic about the idea. I find that sort of role play a bit trite, although I might be somewhat jaded by so much of that from my previous experience. But who needs role play when I have you? The real thing is sitting here with me. You have a desire to grow sexually. I can teach you.”

I blushed. “Oh, my. I thought we knew each other well, but this new concept is going a little fast for me to follow. It sounds exciting and wonderful, but I’ve never been experimental with my sex life. I thought we might come back here and have a little kissing, maybe some petting. At the very outside chance, I hoped for a little tame lovemaking. But to just let you spank away on me…?”

“Do you trust me? Consider your answer. I want honesty. I demand it.”

I looked into his eyes, and there was compassion there, and warmth, and a very deep longing. My heart leapt with excitement. “I want to trust you. I don’t trust easily, because my ex-husband abused me, physically and emotionally, but you seem different. I’m willing to find out who you are at a deeper level, because I like you very much. I have enough trust to take a risk, and also because I think you are worth the effort. Plus, I’m intrigued by such eroticism, such as I’ve seen in books and on the Internet.” The last, I said, almost in a whisper.

“Thank you for your articulate honesty. I am different. I have the utmost compassion for women. Maybe I am a little old fashioned, but rather than a chauvinistic flaw in my character, I think of myself as a protector, a guardian of a woman. I want there to be no pretense about why you would let yourself be spanked. This is not about violence or some sort of displaced rage in me. It is all about proving our trust to each other and finding a focal point to connect. Remember the old Olivia Newton John lyric that goes, ?Let me hear your body talk?’”

“Yes. I love Olivia, and I’ve exercised to that music.”

“Well. I want to hear your body talk. I want to give you a sexual spanking, one that brings to the surface all the bad things that you have ever known, and lets them go forever. If there is pain, it will be followed by pleasure, and I will take you to the heights of your physical and emotional limits so you can let go of your pain. You’ll know in your heart that every moment of your destiny is put in my hands in complete trust. It will be my responsibility. As a former Dom, I take that responsibility very seriously, to be aware of your limitations and needs. I will take all the good things that I know and teach you how to be the best that you have ever been.”

I squirmed, a little wet trickle starting between my legs. “I want to trust you like that. I crave it. But I have fear. Not of you, maybe not even of a spanking, but of the emotions that might arise.”

“I know that from your grief journal,” he said. His voice was silky and full of sympathy. “I can’t stand to see you go through the rest of your life without knowing what it is to belong to a man, to be cherished by him above all others, to be put on a pedestal, to be honored with the kind of lavish attention that you deserve. I know what you need. I see it in your eyes that you are hurting, that you don’t believe you are good enough for anyone, and that you are drained and empty of hope.”

“Don’t.” The tears rolled down my cheeks, not because I was ashamed, but because I was understood. It was humbling to be so transparent.

“I have to be honest with you about what I see in you. Your need to be worthy is so evident that I have agonized over this for weeks. Finally I told myself that I want you to be fulfilled, as a woman. By me.”

He kissed my cheek, and my heart opened to the possibility of him. But I was still afraid.

“The pain. It was awful and it still is. I am afraid to feel that loss so deeply ever again. My child is gone. My husband never loved me. Except for you, right here, right now, I would be all alone, wondering what to do with the next part of my life. Every time I came home from therapy, I would think of you for hours. Now here you are, offering me yourself on a silver plate in a new and exciting way, almost as a life adventure.”

He smiled, and we kissed, and he held me close.

I said, “There is no reason right now that I am not in your lap, except that I lack confidence to let myself take the first step. I feel like a failure at life. It isn’t just the death of my son, but the divorce that has left me somewhat less of a woman. I’m very broken. I am exhausted from being sad. I don’t know if I can be what you think I can be, measure up to your hopes. I want to, but what will happen?”

I stood up and walked to the window. Misty rain smeared rivulets ran down the old beveled-glass windows. “I like rain, don’t you?”

He came behind me, pressed his chest against my back, and kissed the back of my neck, his lips warm and moist, sending a thrill through me.

I jolted away. “I want to. But?”

“Let me in. I promise, you won’t regret it. Let yourself experience what it is like to be spanked, cherished, and treasured.”

He ran his hand down my back and fondled my butt. He touched me with such delicate strokes of his fingers that I arched up into his hand and closed my eyes, wanting him to do whatever he wished to me. But afraid to speak it.

“Please trust me. I think perhaps your fear of intimacy in relationships might be overcome, if you can trust me to treat you as if you were the most precious and cherished being on the face of the earth. I will be with you every moment, touching, communicating, and you with me, so that you won’t be afraid, or be hurt.”

“You won’t hit me in the face?”

He looked affronted. “Never.”

I hesitated. “I might cry. It would be embarrassing.”

“You will cry, but I will hold you and stroke you, and kiss you, and not berate you for your emotions. Let them out with me. Cleanse away all the bad. Let everything go for me, with me. I want you to be able to let go with me, to trust me beyond any other human being. To be yourself.”

“It will hurt.”

“I’m not going to lie to you. Life hurts a lot. A cathartic spanking hurts, too, but the pain of a spanking is transitory. I’ll teach you, and I’ll guide you. I’ll nurture you to use the pain of spanking as a tool to let go of the life pain, to rise above it, into a new way of thinking. The more you can bear, the more pleasure you’ll know, and the more serene your life will become. I will teach you to find Nirvana within your own self.”

“How do you know all this?”

He smiled. “To train as a Dom, I had to live as a submissive for awhile. I know what it is like on both sides of the whip.”

I considered this. “You did this and went to college?”

“Yes. I aced most of my classes, too. You’ll grow stronger by learning to understand how pain and pleasure complement each other, and that one is the reward for the other. They are even interchangeable at times. I promise I won’t give you more than you can bear, either physically or emotionally.”

“You’re not going to use a belt or anything, are you? I would be terrified. I was hurt as a child by my dad.”

A look of true concern crossed his face. “Thank you for telling me. I won’t use any implements. Only my loving hand will suffice then, unless you ask for something else. A hand spanking hurts, too, which is good, because then I have exacting control and can measure my strokes and know how much pressure to use and when to slow down or stop. Will you let me teach you?”

“Nothing could hurt worse than my heart for the last several months.” I still hesitated. I pushed away unwelcome thoughts of the past, of the abuse and my fear. Our eyes met, and his were gentle.

“It is time for the healing, for both of us.”

“How would this be healing for you? I mean, as the spanker? I’m not being facetious, I’m just trying to understand what you get out of it.”

“That’s a fair question. I need to be needed. I need to nurture. The blooming of you as a woman, under my guidance, will be my reward. It is so innate in me to be a hero, a trainer, a sculptor of emotion, and a caretaker. I like to bring out the best in a woman, and to make her see wonderful things in herself, as well as be connected to me. I promise that your self-esteem is going to shoot through the roof. You’re going to forget about that asshole who convinced you that you were unworthy to be loved.”

“Oh, that hurt, but you know how to tell me the truth about myself. I think that is one of the reasons I’m so drawn to you. You know me, and you care, and you don’t run away.”

“I do know you. I’ve watched you, and read your journals, and interacted with you in the toughest kind of therapy. We were all naked in that room. It was harrowing for me too, but for you, the loss of an infant child of only three months?no one could fault you for being the most tragic figure there. My compassion spilled over when I went home and thought of you.”

His hand explored the crack and dipped lower, so forbidden, and yes, I wanted it. He cupped my bottom through my dress. I did not pull away.

“I want the pain of my life to go away. Can you make it go away?”

He nodded, and there was no pretense of his intent. “Yes. But to accomplish that, pain must wash away pain. But two people are stronger together than they are alone. I won’t let you fall. I’ll catch you if you start to spiral down, I promise. I’ll hold you tight when you need it. I only ask for an open mind. This is all new to you, so you’ll have to trust that I know what I am doing.”

Another shuddering sigh escaped me. “I’ll be scared if I ask you to stop, or slow down, and you don’t.”

“My every cue will come from your lips, and if I am to become your master, then you are my mistress, as well. I must respect and honor all of your needs, your wishes. I have a responsibility to see to it that you are never harmed from anything that we do together.”

He stroked my nipples, both of them at once, and they sprang to exquisite attention. I moaned a bit, and he did it again, until I thought my knees would buckle.

“What is a master?” I asked. “I don’t understand what that concept means.”

“It is about belonging.”

“I want to belong to you,” I admitted. “I want to know all those things that I never knew with anyone else. I want to be fulfilled.”

He knelt in front of me like a knight swearing fealty and suckled my nipples hard through the silk of my summer dress and through my camisole. I was so thin from weeks of hardly eating, and didn’t wear a bra anymore because it seemed pointless. That night I had very few layers of clothing to separate my skin from his tongue. And he adored it, I could tell, that my nipples were a mere layer of cloth away from his tongue. They hardened into diamond points, and the wet fabric showed their outline as I looked down at him, kneeling at my feet, with an ardent expression on his beautiful face.

“My breasts are so small,” I said in apology.

“They are beautiful in every way, delicate, exquisite, like the rest of you. For weeks, months, I have wanted to touch and kiss your breasts. I swear to you, I will make you believe that you belong, in every sense of the word. I won’t take anything that you don’t wish to surrender. You’ll trust to give of yourself freely, and I’ll show my appreciation in ways that you never dreamed would be possible. It will be as Master and his sweetheart, never slave. And I don’t intend to discard you afterwards, like your loathsome husband. You are worth more than one night. Far more. When a woman gives herself completely to a man, she has the right to expect something back. I want to cherish you, over and over.”

My heart beat faster. “You say all these wonderful things. I want to believe you, every word. No one has ever spoken to me like this.”

“You’re missing that intimate connection with a lover. The one where you can let all your cares be washed away in your own tears. I’ll kiss them away and take you to many climaxes and past the point of no return. Let down your walls for me, and I’ll show you the kingdom where you are my queen.”

He stood up and kissed my cheeks, my forehead, and my lips. He began to drink me into him, more and more. My trembling heart began to hope.

As he warmed my back with his hands, I bent over a little, and he drew a finger over my vulva through my panties, and I thought I felt him trace his name there. “You are so wet, my beauty. Just say the word, and we’ll belong to each other.”

“Yes.”

He gave my butt a little smack.

I let out a yelp of astonishment. I hadn’t expected that such a thing could turn me on. Suddenly, I realized what he expected. He wanted me to call him Master.

“I meant to say, Yes, Master,” I said, trying out the name. “I want to put my trust in you, to understand your love, your way. Please. Please. Spank me. At this point, I don’t think I can stand it if you didn’t. I am well past the point of saying no. I’m curious and?turned on.”

“You will never be afraid again,” he promised me.

?”Now. Please. Oh, God, now. Take me. Please, Master.”

He picked me up in his arms as if I was a feather and carried me to the bedroom. First he undid the tiny pearl buttons of my summer dress. The belt he pulled from the loops and tied my arms above me to the bedposts with it. I didn’t know that he was going to tie me, but I lay silent in the pool of the red silk of my opened summer dress, waiting, trusting. I watched him remove his clothing.

He was hard, long, and thick, the veins in his cock distended with the engorgement of his desire. He smelled so good. His body was solid and strong. I couldn’t take my gaze from him. Was he even going to fit in little, tiny me?

He knelt between my legs and bent his body to kiss each nipple.

“You have such sweet nipples, hardening for me.”

“Yes, for you, Master,” I whispered. I wasn’t used to talking in bed, wasn’t sure what to expect. Talking was nice though, very nice. It made me confident that there wasn’t an awkward silence.

“Panties off, darling,” he said, and I lifted my body so that he could slide them down and off. He flung them across the room after sniffing them.

Then downward he went with his mouth, where he flicked my clit with his tongue, and finding it swollen with desire, sucked it delicately at first, and then harder as I tried to twist away. My ex had never done that. Neither had my high school boyfriend.

“Oh, my. I don’t know about this part. No one has ever?”

When I tried to twist away, he gave me the first little smack of his hand on my vulva, a sting of great pleasure, and I moaned that such a shocking thing would excite me.

“Obey me. Know that I have all of your best interests at heart.”

He spanked my vulva again and gave the slit a long and loving lick, tracing the folds and opening me with only his tongue.

“Oh,” I said, as if my eyes had been opened and shown a bright flower.

“Open your legs. There’s more to lick.”

I did as he asked and arched up for it, and closed my eyes, focusing on the gentle smack, smack, smack, of his hand on my spread open womanhood, and then his tongue following the same path.

I gasped in pleasure.

***

Loving Will by Eve Boston–Coming April 10, 2009 from Cobblestone-Press.com.