WIP Wednesday - A Sneak Peak from Storm Episode 3 - A Road to Forgiveness

For this week's WIP post - I'm sharing an excerpt from Storm 3 - A Road to Forgiveness. 

So I'm doing something fun with Storm. Storm's a serialized story. A new episode is released every two months. You can buy each episode for just $0.99, or - you can just subscribe to my mailing list, and get each episode for FREE! 

If you do like what you read, and want to read the rest of it - the next episode of Storm goes out Oct 30th (tomorrow!) so subscribe today!  

I’d draped the blanket over myself by the time he’d returned. Winter in Nova Scotia, and though my heat was on, it was still cool enough in my apartment that I needed something to keep warm.

“Tsk, tsk,” Tim chided, seeing the blanket as he came back into the room. He was carrying an assortment of things in his arms, not just the clothespins he’d set off to find.

I smirked at him. “You weren’t keeping me warm. I had to find a substitute.”

He dumped the armful of things on the bed, and got in next to me. “Is there room under the blanket?”

For a few minutes, he just pressed into my body, and I warmed up against his skin. Finally, I wriggled my ass against him, and he laughed. “Yes, Tessa, I’m quite aware you want to be spanked. But...” his hands ran up the side of my body, all the way from my arms to my hips, before pulling my ass into his hard body, “sometimes, life is all about delayed gratification.”

I turned around and kissed him, nibbling at his lower lip till he groaned and pressed against me. “How delayed?”

“No talking anymore,” he instructed. “Except if you need to safe-word, of course.”

I pouted a little, but his tone had been firm.

“Okay, let’s see what we have to work with here,” he said, getting up and straddling me, his knees on either side of my hip, his erection grazing the entrance of my slick pussy. He tugged at my hands, positioning them so that they were gripping my headboard. “Keep them here.”

I nodded. He’d tied me up before, but somehow, this felt even more submissive. I wasn’t physically restrained, unable to move my hands. This time around, they were staying restrained only because he’d ordered me to keep them where they were. I felt very compliant as I obeyed.

“I know you are the painter,” his eyes were amused as they met mine, “but this evening, Tessa,” he pinched my nipples, sending blood rushing to the tender buds, “I’m going to use you as my canvas.” His nails lightly scratched the insides of my arms. “I’m going to paint you in shades of pink and red,” he promised, as I watched my skin change colour where his nails had made contact with the soft surface, “and purple,” his mouth reached down and sucked one of my dark pink nipples into his mouth, “and cream.” He straightened, and his fingers swiped through my pussy, finding it slick and sticky with juice.

He dangled those fingers in front of me. “You made a mess, Tessa,” he chided. “Shouldn’t you clean it up?” I parted my lips and reached my tongue out, licking my juices from his fingers with little flickering strokes. His eyes were hot with lust when I was finished, but his mouth was curved into an amused line.

“Such a naughty girl, Tessa.” His voice held a trace of rebuke. “You are such a tease. Here, move your hips a little.” His hands were on my sides, positioning me the way he wanted me, which was so that I was lying on my side, yet my shoulders were both on the bed, and my hands still gripped the headboard. “You look like a pretzel,” he noted, and I grimaced.

“Thanks,” I said dryly, remembering too late his instruction about keeping quiet.

He’d moved too, he was lying down next to me on his side, his body turned towards mine, his one leg draped over and around my knees, bringing me close to him. His dick was achingly close to my heat, and I wanted to part my legs and allow him entry, but today, I wasn’t the one doing the allowing. His leg held both of mine closed and tight.

Whap. The noise of the spank resonated around the room. “I hate repeating my instructions,” Tim said evenly. “Do I need to?”

“No Sir.” My voice was a soft, breathy flutter. I felt the pain from the spank transform to deep pleasure at my core.

“So eager for your spanking.” His voice was thoughtful. “How many, do you think?”

This time, I followed orders and didn’t speak.

“How about ten to warm that pretty little ass up? And ten as punishment.”

I nodded silently, and he chuckled. “You can always talk if you are going to say Yes Sir.”

I giggled. “Yes Sir,” I said, at the exact moment the first spank came down my ass.

The warming spanks went quickly, and I squirmed with mingled pleasure and pain through his strokes. His swats were even and firm, and he varied them around, never concentrating on one spot for more than one spank. Each spank was followed by his fingers rubbing the stinging spot and soothing my pain away.

I whimpered a little, but mostly because our lower bodies were pressed together, and I could feel his hard dick nudge against my thigh.  I wanted him with shocking intensity. My pussy was wet and ready and impatient, and yet my hands still held on to my headboard, reminding me that my impatience didn’t matter.

He paused when he was done warming me up, and ran his hand over my ass. “Can you feel how hot your skin is?” he asked. “It’s warm and flushed, and a very pretty shade of pink. But a true artist needs swirls of deeper colour, don’t you think, Tessa?”

“Yes Sir.”

His voice was amused. “I’m going to need you to change positions, Tessa.” He straightened his leg that had trapped me into his body, and his fingers met mine at the headboard. “Let go of the headboard, sweetheart, and get on your knees. Ass in the air, shoulders on the bed.”  

I followed his directions without demurral. I felt his weight shift on the bed as he moved, and then he knelt next to me, one arm curving around my waist to hold me steady. “I’d like you to count these spanks out.” His voice was deep and firm and it set my insides quivering.

“Yes Sir.” My words were a thin thread of sound in a quiet room. I sounded nervous. Was I nervous? I had a safe-word to protect me. There was nothing to be afraid of.

And yet. I suddenly understood something. A safe word existed for both our protection, but it wasn’t to be used lightly. I was still surrendering my will to him. I was still letting him decide that I needed to be punished. It was a game, but it was a game that was meant to be played seriously and with intent. I would be wrong to get one spank and safe-word, and beg for his dick instead. My compliance with his desires mattered.

The lesson here was that what I wanted in the moment didn’t matter. What did matter was that I trusted that Tim would understand what I truly needed. 

Check out the other excerpts here.