Rite of Submission (Rite #1) Unedited

Control

I was surprised to wake up, still tucked neatly in his arms. Trying not to wake him, I wriggled out from under his arm, only to find them wrapped tighter around me. “Where are you sneaking off too?” he mumbled into my hair.

“The bathroom,” I grumped, doubling my efforts to wriggle out of his grasp.

He kissed the top of my head and released me with a chuckle. “Are you sure you can walk?”

I smacked his chest, “Yes I can walk,” I drawled out sarcastically, wincing as I crawled off the bed, earning another chuckle from him as he watched. Gritting my teeth, I stood up straight, and walked to the bathroom, ignoring the dull ache that racked every muscle as I moved. “Asshole,” I muttered under my breath, closing the door.

I let myself move slower now that he couldn’t see me, wishing he had a tub like Sophie so I could try to soak in a nice hot bath to ease the aches and pains. A look in the mirror left me horrified; my hair was a frizzy mass of tangles making me look more like a life sized troll doll than a woman. It took forever to work all the knots out and longer to braid it neatly down my back. It didn’t help that my arms felt like they were made of lead and were too heavy to hold up, but I manage.

Another look in the mirror, this time checking everywhere his teeth had been, he’d managed not to leave any marks. How I could look no different, while I felt so sore was beyond me. Where was that super healing when I needed it? Gritting my teeth again, I stepped back out into the bedroom, stopping short in my tracks.

He’d climbed out of the bed and was putting his pants back on, with his back to me. “Holy s**t!” I breathed as the shock wore off. There were several half moon shaped scabs on his back from where my nails had gouged into him, the more prominent ones were accompanied by little trails of dried blood.

He spun around and stared at me, a look of concern on his face as he looked me over, then a slow smirk spread over his lips. “Do you need me to carry you Princess?”

I glared at him, “Not me, you!” I gestured to his back, “Are you ok?”

“It’s already healing,” he shrugged, not even a hint of pain as he smiled and crossed the room to me. “Are you hungry?” he walked past me, and pulled a fresh tee shirt from the dresser.

I was starving, now that he mentioned it. “Where are you going?” I had expected… I actually didn’t know what I expected to happen after giving up my virginity, but watching him getting dressed and leave wasn’t it.

“Are you hungry?” he repeated, after the pulling the shirt over his head. I nodded numbly. “I’ll be right back with some lunch.” He kissed me as he walked past me and I let out the breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding in.

As soon as he was gone, I made my way across the room, grimacing as I reached down to pick up the discarded green nightgown. I didn’t know if I should put it back on, put on something else, or stay naked. In s*x-ed they taught us about the function of reproductive organs, what STDs were and how to put a condom on a banana, they never told us what you’re supposed to do after you’ve had s*x for the first time. s**t! We didn’t use a condom!

I felt like an i***t, standing there naked, not sure what to do next and frantically trying to remember the different stages of a menstrual cycle and when it was most likely to end up pregnant. Hopefully female werewolves had the same time line as humans and I wasn’t even ovulating yet. But I didn’t want to still be naked when he got back, or put the negligee back on. I practically ran to the closet to sort through my drawers of clothes.

The most mundane thing I had was a long forest green satin shorts and cami set. At least it covered the most important stuff. I pulled it on and headed back into the sitting room, blushing when my sight fell on the ruined chair. I couldn’t sit there again. I curled up in a corner of the couch, smoothing out the satin.

He came back up with what looked like a picnic basket and tote bag. “I would’ve brought it in to you,” he frowned at me as I shrugged. He rolled his shoulders and set the basket on the couch beside me and took up the other end, dropping the bag in the chair. “I wasn’t sure what you would be craving after…” he grinned at me, making me blush. “I tried to grab a variety of different things.” He opened the basket and sat back, watching me again.

I leaned forward, looking into the basket. There looked like there was a full picnic packed in there. I didn’t normally go for sweets, but the dark chocolate candy bar seemed to be calling my name. I broke off a square and placed it on my tongue, letting it melt slowly in my mouth, my eyes closed as I savored the slightly fruity and bitter cocoa. “Interesting,” he mused, drawing my attention back to him. “Me too,” he smiled slightly; breaking off a square for himself and also letting it melt in his mouth instead of chewing it.

After a couple squares of chocolate and a handful of mixed nuts, I looked back over at him. “Why all the rope and,” I had to force myself to push past the blush I felt coloring my skin, “the spanking and all that other stuff?” I really wanted to know why he’d seemed to delight in tormenting me. If I took him up on his offer to change my mind, I needed to know if I was in for something worse.

“Power and control,” was all he said, plucking a sandwich from the basket and taking a bite.

“So,” I struggled to find the right question, “You just want control of me?”

He swallowed and stared into space as if deciding on the answer, “Yes,” he nodded, “but also no.”

“Would it kill you to make sense, for just five minutes?” I sighed heavily.

“It’s not about taking control from you,” he took another bite, “It’s about you submitting control to me.”

I sat back, “That doesn’t really explain why you’d put me over your knee.”

He smiled, “Doesn’t it?” I frowned and shook my head, it didn’t. “Everything has consequences; punishments are just another form of control.” I frowned again. “Tell me, why does it make you so wet?” he arched an eyebrow at me, with a seductive grin.

I didn’t have an answer for him, because I didn’t have an answer for myself. Even now, the thought of being pulled over his lap while he spanked me sent a bit of a thrill through me. A corner of his mouth quirked up in a half smile, as if he knew what I was thinking. “That’s not what happened earlier,” I pointed out.

“Maybe it’s time for another lesson,” he smiled standing up and holding out a hand to me. I little bit of panic raced through me. I was still sore, and unsure I wanted to know what he had in mind. “Come on Princess, I think you’ll like this one.” I let him help me up and lead me into the office. He frowned at the desk still shoved across the room.

“Hop up here,” he patted the desktop, waiting as I made my way over to sit on the desk. He rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a stapler and a piece of paper. I watched as he tore the paper into a few long strips, “Hold out your hands.” I did as he asked without hesitation, curious to see where this was going. He looped a strip of paper around one of my wrists, using the stapler to turn it into a bracelet, and then he repeated the process with my other wrist. He threaded a last strip through the bracelets and stapled it in place, linking the two together.

Setting the stapler aside, he pointed to the paper manacles, “As long as these are in one piece, you’re saying that I have control,” he took my hands in his and kissed each one on both sides. “I may do as I like until you break them,” he let my hands fall into my lap, and leaned closer, kissing my shoulder. “But if you break them, you’re telling me to stop, so you control how long I have control.” His breath was warm on my skin as he spoke, each rule punctuated with another kiss closer to my mouth. “Do you understand?” I nodded, leaning into his lips.

“Good girl,” he growled nipping at my lips. He slid his arms under me, scooping me up and carrying me back into the bedroom to set me down on the bed. “I want you to lie down and put your arms up over your head,” he instructed gently. Biting my lower lip, I laid back and lifted my arms up onto the bed above my head. “Close your eyes,” he added. I let my lids fall shut. “Don’t move your hands,” he moved, kneeling onto the bed to whisper it into my ear.

There was a long pause, where nothing happened. My heart raced, waiting for what might come next. He stretched out along side me, propped up on an elbow. I sighed quietly as his fingertips finally touched my thigh, slowly drawing a line up along my side and stopping just before reaching where the satin ended. His hand flattened and smoothed another line down to my hip, letting his fingers dig in gently as they came to a rest.

He leaned down and closed his mouth over mine, sucking gently on my lower lip as he kissed me. His hand slid smoothly over the satin as he let it wander over me. It felt like my skin tingled under his fingers as they trailed along, crossing over my stomach and sliding down my sides. Occasionally, he’d migrate towards my breasts, and my n*****s would harden expecting to be pinched between his fingers, but then he’d just follow the curve of a rib back to my side and down over my hip. I found myself growing impatient as he continued to move his hands, never quite making it to the areas that I wanted him to touch.

Frustrated by another near misdirect from my breast, I bit his lip not so gently. With a growl he pulled me against him and palmed my chest roughly. Just as I arched my back into the satisfying sensation of his hand, he rolled me away onto my stomach and landed a loud smack on my buttocks. I cried out, more from the shock of it than any kind of pain. Even as it left the skin beneath the satin stinging slightly, it sent a small thrill up my spine.

“Stay still,” he ordered. I could feel him moving around me as the mattress dipped where ever his body weighed it down. I lay there with my face down waiting. He settled behind me, straddling my legs. He caressed my hips, just before grabbing them and lifting them up off the bed so I was half kneeling before him with my face pressed into the covers. I struggled to keep my hands still and the cuffs intact as he pulled the shorts over my hips, and down my legs. It felt like he sat back and stared for a long time, and I felt myself blushing at the thought of how I must look in this position. A soft muffled moan escaped me as I felt his fingers skim up between my legs to caress my still sore s*x, softly. After a while, I found myself pushing back into him, trying to get him to apply more pressure or finally let his fingers explore deeper into the hot, wet folds. It wasn’t until I was whimpering from the frustration he’d built that he finally indulged me. His fingers gently probed between the lips, “So wet already?” he pushed them apart so he could rub my eagerly awaiting c**t. He started with slow, gentle circles, increasing his speed as I moaned and gyrated my hips. My knees even slipped apart to give him more access, and he took full advantage of it.

I bit down on the covers as I felt the promise of another orgasm build. He didn’t stop just before I fell over the edge like he usually had done. Instead he moved his fingers aside and positioned the tip of his thick, engorged member into my quivering, slick hole. I groaned, the mass of him stretching me open. “Slowly,” his voice was gruff, as he knelt, unmoving, behind me. He let my spasms and rolling hips drive him into me until I started to still. His fat rigid c**k filling me felt deliciously satisfying. He grabbed my hips and pulled me back further until he was fully buried.

He let out a grunt, before gently guiding me by the hips to rock back and forth. I loved the feeling of him sliding out slowly and thrusting deep, but I loved the gruff and guttural moans that poured out of him as I moved back and forth with him. The more primal the grunt, the harder I’d rock back as he thrust forward.

I was so focused on him that I was surprised when another orgasm rolled through me. “Damn it!” he groaned, thrusting deep and hard as my p***y clenched around his c**k. With a few erratic thrusts and rough grunts I felt him empty into me, leaving me with an oddly contented feeling. I thought I heard an audible ‘pop’ as he pulled himself free.

He rolled me onto my back, stretching back out along side me. His breaths were still ragged, and uneven as his mouth found mine again. “Show me,” he grunted against my lips. I brought my arms down between us, letting him inspect the wrinkled and creased, but still intact paper cuffs around my wrists.

He kissed each wrist, and freed them of their fragile restraints. “You did beautifully,” he cooed, kissing my forehead, “even if I couldn’t help myself a bit sooner than I would have liked.” He chuckled softly, laying back.

“Couldn’t help yourself?” I smiled, propping myself up on his chest. “But what about all the control you were talking about exercising?” I mocked sarcastically.

“I’m not too tired to put you over my knee,” he admonished, squeezing my ass to emphasis his point.

“Promise?” I bit my lip, giggling as I wiggled my hips suggestively.

He gave me a light swat, “Don’t be a brat,” he grumbled.

“It was your game, and your rules,” I smiled, “I didn’t break them, maybe you need a spanking.”

“Quit trying to push my buttons and let me sleep woman!” he growled, shifting me into the space between his arm and chest. I curled against him, still smiling. “Don’t think you’ve won,” he yawned, “I’m keeping count for later.” A shiver ran through me, making him chuckle. “Now hush, I’d hate to have to gag you, just to get some rest.”