What's Left Unsaid - Chapter 14 (Patreon)

Conner kissed my stomach, slowly and softly letting his lips glide along my skin making me shiver. There was a heat to him, his breath and the flick of his tongue in my bellybutton. I let out a groan and ran my fingers through his hair. His teeth nipped and I felt a small spike of pain. Pain that I deserved and surprisingly found I wanted. 

It wasn’t that I wanted Conner to be furious with me. But culture had taught me that when a man caught his spouse cheating, he became irrational, reverting to a caveman. I was supposed to be a slut and a whore. He was supposed to scream and demean and rage. But Conner was… calm. Oh, I could tell he was in pain. He’d been in pain since the accident. A complex maze of emotions and circumstances. Physical and mental. My poor husband had been put through a grinder and somehow he’d come out on the other side solid and standing instead of being ground chuck. 

His hands gripped my hips tight. Nails digging into my flesh making me whimper. Any harder and I might have bruises. I could feel the tension in his muscles and his touch. It was possessive. He moved lower to the hem of my panties. 

“Are you mine?” 

I heard the words, but almost missed them. They were a whisper. A prayer. 

Looking down at him, eyes lidded and feeling arousal beginning to take hold and laced my fingers in my husband's hair. “Body and soul. I swear. I promise.” 

He pulled at my panties from the back, making them wedge tighter between my ass cheeks and tightening them in the front making my cameltoe more prominent. “Say it Daisy. Say you’re mine.” 

I was breathing heavier. Something was happening. My brain said Conner was trying to reassure himself. But my body, my sexual primal brain knew it was deeper. Conner was trying to claim me. To take me back. To make me his. 

And I was going to let him. I’d let him do anything. Whatever he needed to get us reconnected. Our rhythm was off. Communication was broken. We needed to get back on the same page and I was ready to let him lead. 

“I’m yours, Conner. I’m yours.” I said it meekly, in full submission. 

Conner grabbed me and suddenly I was sprawled across his lap, my ass up in the air. His hand came down hard and sharp, a loud crack echoing in the room as he began to spank me! Dear lord Conner was spanking me! He’d never…

“Oh! OH! CONNER! OW!” I gasped  with each hard slap on each cheek. Hard enough to sting and send waves of pleasure and pain all through my body. I could feel the heat on my skin, feel the redness that was no doubt going to make my ass as red as a baboon. 

“Hold your tongue Daisy. Let me… let me punish you. You know you deserve this.” His voice was strained and honestly it sounded… unsure. Clearly this wasn’t planned. Maybe Conner was going on instinct. Or it was all on impulse. Just trying to figure out something to do, physically, so that he could relieve his anger and frustration and disappointment. 

I bit my lip, closed my eyes and nodded. If this was what he needed I’d give it to him. A spanking was the least that I deserved and the very least he could do to me. I’d take red and sore cheeks over divorce papers any day. 

Crack! Crack! 

He spanked my ass over and over and over. I lost count. It hurt. My ass was so painfully sore and red that when I glanced back I saw my ass swelling with red hand marks. I was crying. But I held my protests and yelps of pain. Conner had tears on his cheeks as he spanked. This was painful for him too. Mine was physical. His was emotional. 

Finally, trembling and feeling like my ass was burning, Conner stopped and helped me to sit up. My ass was inflamed. Red. And no doubt I would have bruises. He held me tight, my bottom hanging off of his lap. My head rested against his chest as I whimpered and shook in pain. 

“I’m sorry.” I whined. I was like a child being held by their parent after getting caught having broken something valuable. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” It was a whine, a whimper, a beseeching whisper as I silently sobbed from the pain and the guilt of what I’d done.

He was gentle with his touches. Hand rubbing my back and legs. Soft kisses on my temples. Then my lips. We kissed slow and deep. As gently as he could, he moved me and laid me down on the bed. Even the softness of the mattress and sheets hurt on my ass but I held the pain, I meditated on it. It was a physical manifestation of the pain I’d caused my husband. It was a small little dose of something I deserved. 

Opening my legs and pushing them up over his shoulders, Conner moved in and kissed my panties. They were tight over my sex and damp. As painful as the spanking was, it had also been arousing in many ways. I was dripping. My panties soaked and pressed against me and tight. Conner’s lips pressed against the thin material and my cunt and I moaned. He pushed my legs a bit higher and moved lower, tongue probing against the bunched panties pressed against my asshole. Slowly, he began to worship me. My femininity. Licking and kissing over my underwear, making me soak them even more. I was dripping and it was starting to leak down along my ass and between my cheeks as I whimpered, feeling the aching radiating pain from my ass and the pleasure emanating from my center.

“Conner…honey…oh god it feels good.” He pressed his tongue hard, pushing my panties between my lips. 

“You’re mine.” He muttered into my folds. 

“Yours. Yours Conner.” 

I was shaking with the pleasure of my husband's mouth and then suddenly… pain. He moved back and slapped my pussy with the flat of his hand. 

I cried out, my orgasm suddenly pulled out of me at the sudden painful, pleasurable, striking sensation against my clit and lip. “Oh! OH FUCK!” And I began to squirt. I flooded my panties making them completely sheer. Juices dripped and squelched, sliding down between my cheeks and along my back. 

As I started to buck, Conner rammed his fingers into my convulsing tunnel, pressing my panties into my vagina. He began sucking my clit through the wet underwear, making my pleasure continue even as I wanted to calm down. He was overstimulating me. Making it wash through me over and over and not letting me rest. 

I bucked my hips. Bouncing my sore ass on the bed and whimpering, shaking, gripping the sheets. 

“Yes! OHHHH OHHHHGAWD MMMMM FU….FUUUUUUU!” I began to mutter and moan incoherently as he pushed my body to its limits. 

I was screaming, raking my throat raw with my cries. And he never stopped. “Mine.” he growled. “Say it Daisy! Say it!” 

“YOURS!” I screamed and looked down at him with pain. With pleasure. With desire and submission and regret and a desire to make things right. 

“Is this cunt mine?” He looked at me and his eyes were sharp enough to cut. 

“Yes! YES! YOUR CUNT! YOUR ASSHOLE. MOUTH. TITS. My whole fucking body is yours and only yours!” I was bucking and shaking as another wave of orgasms crashed into me. 

Conner ripped my panties off. Literally ripped them. It was painful. Feeling the material stretch and then shred and rub against my skin before they finally snapped. Exposed he slapped my clit again and I screamed arched and…. 

…

I sat down next to Daisy as she lay passed out. Her breathing was deep and rhythmic. She was soaked in sweat and juices. Hair a mess, tangled and matted. Face glowing with echoing pain and pleasure, mouth slightly open and lips glistening. 

She was beautiful. Raw. Used. It made my blood stir and gather between my legs. My penis didn’t move but the arousal in my balls was intense. Painful. The urge to tug and get a release was powerful but I remembered what Ella had said. 

As best you can, try not to masturbate. We will talk more about it when we meet but… it’s important. 

It felt like some sort of cuckolding restraint. Or kinky play. But the way Ella talked it was clinical and plain. I didn’t understand it but I was willing to try anything. I wanted to fix things. To fix myself. 

If what was happening to me when I orgasmed was more in my head than actually a physical thing, then I’d gladly try whatever I could. I knew Ella wasn’t going to magically cure my ED. But maybe this could be a sort of therapy that would help me, and her. This wasn’t just about me. Ella needed help too. 

Daisy’s breathing began to even out and slow. She’d passed out from her orgasm. Or orgasms to be more accurate. 

I wasn’t sure what came over me but whatever it was… it helped. Punishing Daisy felt right. The idea of screaming and calling her names made me feel sick. And I’d never raise a hand to actually hurt her. Running away from home wasn’t an option either. I wanted Daisy. She was mine. My wife. The woman I wanted and was going to spend my life with. I vowed for better or worse and right now… right now we were in the worst. Deep down in a pit of shit but I wasn’t going to just wallow in it. We were going to dig our way out. 

Laying down, I cuddled up to Daisy. Her ass pushed against me. I wrapped my arm around her and kissed the back of her neck. She let out a soft, pleased sigh. 

“Mine.” I whispered and a shiver ran through her, her thighs rubbing together in her sleep. 

Tomorrow we will have to face a new day. Dark and painful and unsure. Tonight we would just sleep. Rest. Try to let ourselves reset. Things were going to change. Maybe they would get better or maybe someone was going to take a massive dump into the shithole we were in and make things even harder. 

But we were going to face it together. I wasn’t going to leave. Not unless she told me to go. 

Daisy was mine. I was hers. And we were going to figure this out as a married couple. Just like we’d vowed to do.