Shared Serenity, Part Three

Slowly, surely, carefully, lovingly, he turned her over his lap. She settled into position without an ounce of resistance in her body. Repeating himself, he asked again as he drew her close to his body. “What do you offer me, love?”

Again she answered, taking in the solidity of his body, “My submission, sir”. 

He wrapped his left arm firmly around her waist, tucking and locking his hand under her right hip. She felt the firmness of his arm locked across her back and the warm, familiar touch of his right hand smoothing the creases out of her capris. As he smoothed the fabric across her bottom and legs, he was in awe of the beauty around him. . . . . . . the fading sunset, the crash and ebb of the sea, the singing of the birds, the sight currently over his lap, and the gift that he was offered every day. Leaning down over her body, he whispered into her hair, “Show me.”

Hand in hand, they walked through the dark back towards the condo. She was nearly lighting up the night with her submissive glow, and he had this simple, calm, happiness that permeated his very core. Neither had to say anything, for their pride and joy flowed through their hands, their eyes, their very being.

The spanking she’d been given had been firm, solid, and it challenged her submission. She hadn’t liked the pain, but she liked pleasing him . . . . she enjoyed knowing that he was enjoying her, that he was proud, and that she was his. She enjoyed the time, the peace of knowing she was with someone whom she could trust beyond measure, and with one who would love, guide, encourage, and, when needed, punish and correct. This wasn't the first time she'd been spanked solely for the sake of submission, nor was it likely to be the last. It was his choice more than hers, but she welcomed his leading, his guiding, his love. She’d yelped, cried, and finally ended up sobbing in his arms. He’d held her tightly, rocked her, and listened to both her, and the sea. He whispered into her ear. . . . . He’d whispered about how much she was loved. . . . about who she was. . . . and that she belonged to him. He knew it was at these times that she was most connected to him. . . . most able to hear what he truly had to say, from the heart. He allowed her to fully calm, to rest in his strength, to take in the full experience. . . . the experience of being his. Their joy in each other. . . . . he in her, and her in her submission, brought them both shared serenity. The last tinges of color faded from the sky, they began their walk back.