Not long before they got home, she broke their comfortable silence
"Riker?"
"Yes, little one?"
"Would you –" she stopped, wanting to say the words but not wanting to at the same time.
He paused just slightly, and then prompted, "Would I what?"
"Would you…uh…" She whimpered a little, and he became even more intrigued by the dichotomy of her wanting something from him that she didn't seem to really want. Kyah looked up at him then, suddenly, her eyes locking with his. "Would you please punish me when we get home? I just…I need it. I need to feel you loving me in that way, please. For my own good."
"Of course, my love," he answered more roughly than he intended around another enormous lump in his throat as he pulled into the garage. He made to open the door and come around to get her, as he didn't allow her to get out by herself.
Then he felt her hand on his arm, softly, tentatively placed there.
"Don't –" The words were, obviously, being dragged out of her. "Don't go easy on me because there's no reason behind the discipline."
"I understand, Kyah." He reached out to stroke her hair tenderly. "I do. But there is a reason – you need it. And I will always give you what you need. Good baby girl for asking. I know it must be a very hard thing to do, because you know how your bottom is going to feel when I get through with it."
He kissed her hand gently, removing it from his arm, and came around to hand her out of the car, keeping a tight grip on her smaller one, he led her, wordlessly, through the house to their bedroom.
There was no conversation.
She stripped automatically, as she was required to, and stood at the end of the bed, the backs of her calves pressed against it, at attention, breasts out, shoulders back, awaiting, as she'd been trained to. She shivered as she did so, while Riker got what he needed together, placing implements on her nightstand, never his, for easy reference later.
Even though he knew she wasn't really cold, he adjusted the thermostat up a degree or two. No, she was shivering in truly dreadful anticipation that he was going to give her exactly what she'd ask for.
And, of course, he was.
His love for her was already boundless, but his admiration for her soared when she'd asked him for this particular boon. It wasn't as if she didn't get punished often enough. Although, she knew full well, that if she misbehaved the day before or the day of an outing, like going to see Ellen, she would be denied permission to do so. She would have to call her friend and tell her that she was not allowed to come see them, as well as exactly why she'd lost the privilege, while he listened to her do so.
Her bottom still bore the marks of his belt that he'd wielded yesterday, where he'd bent her over an A-frame styled horse. It now lived in a corner of their bedroom, always at the ready, was well padded and equipped with enough straps to completely immobilize her, with her legs spread around its width, leaving her well and truly displayed for her punishment, so that sometimes that belt even licked her tender lips.
But this was not that time.
No, this was something she'd acknowledged she needed, deep within her.
It was something he intended – something he wanted – to encourage in her. He was already hard as a rock and felt as if he was going to explode any minute. His mind kept replaying the sound of her soft, almost plaintive voice as she asked him to do this to her.
For her.
She'd even used the words he sometimes said to her when he was lighting into her.
For her own good.
He came to stand in front of her, cupping her chin in his hand and kissing her with all the love he could muster, meeting eyes that were already misty in anticipation of what he was going to put her through.
"You are very brave, Kyah." As he spoke, his voice hoarse with emotion, his hands roamed possessively over her. "I can't tell you how much pride I feel – I felt – that you love and trust me enough to ask me to do this very hard thing for you, a thing I know you don't want to want, but that you recognize is sometimes the best thing for you. I hope you can feel that love and pride in every stroke."
He kissed her again, lingeringly, almost regretfully, and then stepped away.
"Lie down on the bed, face down, spread eagled."
Kyah did as he bade her to do, wondering, the entire time, what she had let herself in for.
Why she had brought this on herself.
"Since this is something you have asked me to do, something you are submitting to willingly, there will be no bonds for you to rely on. The only ties that will bind you are those of the extent of your submission to me."
He sat next to her on the bed, and as she was always to keep her head towards her left, she could see him pick up the paddle, on which he had had inscribed, "Riker's Love," resting it on her behind, right at her sit spot.
Then he spoke almost the last words he would say to her until he was done. "You not only asked me to punish you, young lady, but you asked me not to go easy on you, either. And I won't."
With that, he raised the paddle high into the air – as high as he could manage to – with his good, strong right arm.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, she awoke to the smell of French toast and bacon cooking.
Somehow, he always knew when she awoke, as if he had some kind of sixth sense about when she became sentient every morning, and he came into their bedroom to sneak under the bed sheets with her, saying enthusiastically, "There she is!"
She was on her tummy, where she was likely to be for the near future, although she did try to move towards him.
"You stay right where you are, darlin'. I'll bring breakfast to you. Would you like to snooze until then, or do you want me to turn something on for you?" He pointed the remote at the huge TV on the opposite wall from the bed, asking indulgently, "Say Yes to the Dress? Or I Love Lucy?" He didn't like either of those.
He was certainly spoiling her this morning.
And with good reason, considering what he'd done to her last night.
But it hadn't been all punishment. Normally, he didn't allow her to climax when she was being punished, but, although he was using the same methods as he always did, he didn't really consider this to be that. He more considered it to be fulfilling a need, just as if she'd asked him to bring her off.
He had conducted it largely in silence. Riker wasn't exactly sure if that was what she wanted, but that was how it had naturally occurred. Sometimes, when he was disciplining her, he lectured her, but this time was different. There wasn't anything to lecture about.
And, when he did speak, it was never harshly, but, instead, to praise her for what she was doing, how well she was enduring it or to remark on just how red and mottled her bottom was becoming as first the paddle then the strap kissed it.
Somewhere during it all, he had put a good-sized pillow beneath her hips, which raised her backside, as if in offering to him, and he told her to spread her legs as wide as she could and to keep them there.
Without a word, he brought her hands to the edge of the bed, silently encouraging her to grab onto it.
And she needed that, too, since that was when he began to use the cane.
The last implement he used was his hand, delivered as he was, again, sitting next to her on the bed. Only after seeing to her most thoroughly – so that even the smallest movements she made reminded her that she was his – clamping her nipples tightly then filling her completely, her bottom stretched widely around the biggest plug she could take, that delectable pussy of hers impaled on a large purple dildo. His free hand reached under her to find her clit, and finding ample evidence that, despite her screams and all of the begging she had done for it to be over, for him to please stop, her body had enjoyed every bit of what he'd done to her.
All was as it usually was.
As he began to spank her, he also began to ruthlessly manipulate her clit while his hand landed on flesh that was already swollen and sore, deliberately hitting th
e edge of the end of the butt plug occasionally. This made her jerk her hips forward, away from that uncomfortable swat, but there was nowhere to go but to press herself further into his hand
"You did a very good thing in asking me to punish you, Kyah. I think you need, not only to be thoroughly punished every once in a while – even when you haven't been a naughty girl – just because it's what is best for you. To remind you who you are and who you belong to. And I think that being spanked while you're clamped and plugged and filled, while I'm flicking that perfect clit of yours, is exactly what you need. You need for me to control you in everything, including both your pleasure and your pain. You need to cum just as hard as I punish you. And I'm just the man to take care of all of it, of all of you."
With that, he gave her the hardest spanking she'd ever received from anyone, all while he was rubbing that little bean, pressing on it, swirling his fingers around it, making her sob and cry and wail on both counts, but never letting up once for either.
She lost it when he turned on the vibrators seated deep within her, only able to last a few seconds after that – her orgasm a true thing of uncontrollable, uninhibited beauty.
But he wasn't done then. He took the big massager, the one he used on his muscles when he got sore, the one with the big white head that was entirely too powerful to be used on her, and placed it up against her clit. Listening closely to her reactions until he found just the right spot, he propped it there, the one that would give her a non-stop orgasm, for as long as that vibrating head pressed against her.
Every time he swatted her, her hips jerked automatically away from it, and, this time, it mashed the most sensitive point on her body into a terribly powerful vibrator, causing her body to shake and shudder with the force of her instant arousal and release.
With the free hand that had been manipulating her lady bits, he began to play with the plug in her bottom, knowing that it was a tremendous erogenous zone to her – which was a source of embarrassment to her that he hadn't bothered to try to talk her out of.
So when he began to pry it out of her, Ky began to beg him not to.
Those climaxes were the most devastating she'd ever experienced.
He kept her there for a long time, exhausting her completely before he put everything away and brought her into the shower with him, leaning her against him and soaping her up, washing her with incredible gentleness, especially over her ruined bottom and ultra sensitive clit.
Then he tucked her into bed with soft kisses to the top of her head, pulling her into him, unwilling to let her be more than a millimeter away from him.
"You are a magnificent woman," he whispered into her ear, as he knew she was falling asleep. "I am humbled every single day by the gift of your submission to me, but never more so than right now." He kissed her ear. "Sleep now. You've earned it."
This morning, though, he left the TV on the dress show, for his own reasons, to see to breakfast, which he brought back to her. It was all her favorites – fresh, homemade fruit compote, French toast, thick sliced bacon that was not crispy, real maple syrup and coffee, none of which he usually allowed her to eat.
And, of course, he fed her every single bite, taking the occasional one for himself, but feeding her the majority of it as she leaned against him on her side.
When he was done, he set the tray down and turned to her, saying, "Let me see your bottom, baby."
Ky slipped onto her tummy without a word, knowing better than to argue with him.
Riker peeled back the sheet then leaned down to bestow healing kisses on each, still very sore looking, cheek. Then he reached for a bottle that he always kept in their headboard and began to rub arnica lotion over her as she drummed her feet against the bed in protest, not really wanting her bottom touched at all, but he insisted that it would help her heal more quickly and help increase the health of her skin overall.
"Where should your hands be, Kyah Elizabeth?" he asked sternly, and they crept up to hook her fingers over the edge of the mattress, much like she'd done last night.
He did a thorough job of it, as he always did, then he put the lotion away. She wasn't looking, her eyes closed from his soothing massage, so she didn't see him pick up anything else, but, suddenly, she wasn't lying stretched out on the bed anymore. He was cradling her in his arms, with her turned on her side towards him, to spare her any more pain.
Riker placed a finger beneath her chin and forced her to look up at him. "Do you know that you have never been more beautiful to me than you were last night and you are this morning?"
She blushed, saying, "Stop!"
"No, I won't. I love everything about you – your stubbornness, your outspokenness, your obsession with Red Dwarf…"
He was naming all the things she knew he hated about her, but she didn't bother to point that out to him.
Riker rested his head against the headboard, his fingers threaded through the hair at the back of her head. "I love you, Kyah. You are more important to me than anyone or anything on this planet." With his free hand, he showed her a small velvet box, opening it one-handed. "I sometimes call you Kyah Elizabeth, and I don't use your last name because I don't want it to be anything other than mine."
Her hands were at her face, covering her mouth, her heart pounding so hard in her chest that she was surprised he couldn't feel it.
"My Kyah Elizabeth, my baby girl, baby love, angel, little girl, little one, will you do me the honor of becoming truly mine?"
She noticed that he hadn't asked her to be his wife, but then she would never be treated the way anyone else thought a wife should be. But she knew that there was no answer for her but an enthusiastic, "Yes!"
***
Riker wasn't a man to let things lie, especially something he wanted as much as he wanted to be married to Ky.
He talked to her about what kind of wedding she wanted, considering that she loved to watch wedding shows about destination weddings and gorgeous, expensive gowns – none of which he would have objected to if that was what she would have wanted – but she always managed to surprise him.
"I don't want to spend all that money – it's unnecessary. Thirty thousand dollars on a dress I'm going to wear for maybe six hours? No way."
He couldn't have been more pleased.
Neither could Kyah. She got exactly the wedding she wanted – and it cost less than fifteen grand, total. They had a barbeque in their backyard, with him manning the grill for burgers and hot dogs. They brought in ribs and pulled pork. She cooked a lot of the side dishes, and so did Ellen. They shelled out considerably for the lavender roses that they distributed about the place and her bouquet of them, and they spent a good amount on a photographer. Her dress was less than two hundred dollars and exactly what they both wanted – short and cute and pretty – just like her, he'd said.
The only thing he'd put his foot down about was the color of her dress, which had her surprised at him for a change.
She wanted to go with a fabric that was a kind of champagne color, but he wouldn't have any of that.
"White. I want your dress to be white. Pink if you absolutely have to. But white, preferrably. No beige, no champagne – white."
Considering that seemed to the only thing about which he was being adamant, she considered herself lucky and ordered the dress they both liked in white.
The ceremony was short and sweet, and everyone giggled when she vowed to obey him, most of them knowing that it was no oversight on their part.
He was involved in something important regarding his business at the time, so their honeymoon was delayed – not that either of them worried about it.
When everyone had departed, and they were alone again, Riker swung Kyah up into his arms and began to walk to their bedroom.
"You are the most gorgeous woman on the planet," he whispered as he set her down next to their bed and began to disrobe her, and she stood still as he did so.
Kyah didn't know what she'd done to end up right here, right where she'd
always fantasized about being with him, and now she was his wife! She thought she was going to burst with happiness, watching him with soft eyes as he unzipped her dress and peeled it away from her body. He hung it up in their closet, then returned to remove her chemise and bra, leaving her in her lacy white stockings and garter and the tiny panties that had come with the set he had presented her with last night, to wear under her dress. He knelt before her and removed the stilettos she'd been in, knowing her feet were hurting.
Still in his beautiful white tux, he took her into his arms, kissing her deeply, reaching down as he did so, to cup her behind. If their guests had seen it – if they'd known why the bride hadn't spent much time sitting down – they probably would have called the cops.
Well, some of them would have. Lots of them understood, though, especially Ellen, who was now involved in her own romance of the very same kind.
"Poor baby," he crooned as she tried to get away from the way his hands were squeezing her sore flesh.
"You say that now," she accused playfully. "But you didn't, while you were striping my bottom!"
He tried to look innocent. "I wasn't the one who broke the rule. I'm merely the man responsible for holding you to account for doing so. I had no choice but to chastise you, and you know that talking to you and lecturing you doesn't work, unless it's accompanied by a good, hard spanking."
"But the night before our wedding, Ri?"
His eyebrows rose at her indignation, feigned or otherwise. "If you had misbehaved during the ceremony, I would have flipped you over my knee and spanked you, right then and there, in front of all of our guests and the Reverend Felcher. Your need for discipline – your need to be held firmly in check – knows no bounds and recognizes no holidays, even our wedding day."
Riker picked her up and deposited her gently on the bed, then got up and stood at the end of it, reaching out to grab her ankle and pull her towards him. "You make me want to eat you up in those stockings and garter. They frame your little pussy and your well-tended-to ass so beautifully."
Before Ky could register any objections, she found herself entirely unable to speak anything but gibberish as his mouth descended eagerly upon her, three fingers finding their way inside her, stretching her open insistently, as his other hand reached beneath her to squeeze one beleaguered cheek, then the other, driving her further into his awaiting mouth.
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