Admittedly, this is a recycled rec I wrote for the P.I.C blog. But I LOVE the story and she has continued it so I want to bring it forward again!
I am thrilled that Nikki asked me to rec a story for the P.I.C. FanFic Corner site, but I had a hard time finding one that wasn't already covered. Seems a lot of us have the same tastes in stories. But I found a recently written one-shot that isn't on the list and I'm happy to be the one to recommend it! It fits my first major requirement for a great story...Emmett!!!
I don't know how HopelessRomantic79 got into my head but she managed to invade it and pull out my perfect man: a geek (more specifically a software guy), built, glasses, COOKS and although he's quiet in the real world he's a Dom in the bedroom! I couldn't ask for anything more than that.
In "Consent to Release", Emmett and Bella are a fairly typical married couple. She's a cop, he works for a software company. They come home, cook dinner, talk about each other's days...you know typical stuff. But somewhere along the line they came to the conclusion that they enjoyed the freedom that taking on a Dom/Sub relationship brings. She didn't have to be the authoritative figure with him and he could let loose of his shy, quiet side and become "well, a stud".
They, like many part time lifestyle couples, don't have an extensive playroom but have learned to effectively use what they have and can make themselves happy in just the play.
Bella broke one of Emmett's major rules. She pleasured herself without his presence or permission. All of her orgasms belong to him, plain and simple. So he proceeds to show his displeasure in her outright disobedience...
“Isabella, I can see that you’re wet and swollen. Is it possible you’re looking forward to your punishment?”
I bit back a moan. “N-n-no, Sir.”
I gasped with a start as he slapped my pussy lightly, making sure to brush against my clit.
“Don’t lie to me!” he growled. “You’re such a naughty girl, Isabella. Only bad girls want to be punished. Only bad girls get punished.”
I inwardly smiled, knowing I was the only “bad girl” he’d ever really had acquaintance with. This had been a first for both of us.
“Yes Sir,” I replied.
“Open your eyes,” he said and I slowly opened them, meeting his hard gaze in the mirror before us. I could see that his pants were strained already and that he’d taken off his shirt. His muscles rippled as he walked slowly behind me, pacing like a predator that had just cornered his prey. I wanted to whimper at how sexy he was at this moment, when he was in his element.
“How many strokes should we say, Isabella?” he asked. “Twelve? Fifteen? What will make you remember that this,” he reached between us and cupped my heat, “is all mine?” He dipped a finger inside me and I wanted to gasp at the feeling but then it was gone and I was left aching for more, knowing it probably wouldn’t come any time soon. “Every orgasm belongs to me, Isabella. I’m the only one who tells you when and where to cum. On my fingers… on my face… on my cock…”
I shivered. This was the only time he talked dirty to me and I relished every minute of it and he knew it.
“So you will count the strokes,” he said. “I think twelve will be enough. And if you are good, I will give you a reward. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
I nodded; my eyes half-lidded with desire. I was dripping wet and he was not making things easier for me, especially if he didn’t want me to cum right away.
I could see him grab the soft leather paddle from our closet. It was the easiest of our supplies and I knew that he wasn’t entirely angry or too serious about the paddling. In fact, it was entirely possible he was going to go easy on me and make the spanks pleasurable for me.
Whap! I guess not. The paddle came down hard on my ass and I yelped a little in surprise.
“One!” I shouted.
He soothed my ass in between each swat and his hand felt heavenly in comparison with the paddle. By the time we reached twelve, I was a whimpering, moaning, wet mess, and I could barely even hold up my head.
“Get up, Isabella,” Emmett ordered and I knew better than to disobey him. Besides, this might mean I get my reward! Somehow, I managed to flip myself over on the ottoman and sit up on my sore ass. I’d have to ask him to rub it down later, not that he’d forget. He was such a good Dom, and husband, for that matter in that way. He always took care of me.
“Do you understand now? Will I need to punish you again?” he asked.
Probably, I thought.
I HIGHLY recommend this story!! Anything with Emmett works...but geeky, hot, Dom Emmett? TOTAL GOLD!!!
I bit back a moan. “N-n-no, Sir.”
I gasped with a start as he slapped my pussy lightly, making sure to brush against my clit.
“Don’t lie to me!” he growled. “You’re such a naughty girl, Isabella. Only bad girls want to be punished. Only bad girls get punished.”
I inwardly smiled, knowing I was the only “bad girl” he’d ever really had acquaintance with. This had been a first for both of us.
“Yes Sir,” I replied.
“Open your eyes,” he said and I slowly opened them, meeting his hard gaze in the mirror before us. I could see that his pants were strained already and that he’d taken off his shirt. His muscles rippled as he walked slowly behind me, pacing like a predator that had just cornered his prey. I wanted to whimper at how sexy he was at this moment, when he was in his element.
“How many strokes should we say, Isabella?” he asked. “Twelve? Fifteen? What will make you remember that this,” he reached between us and cupped my heat, “is all mine?” He dipped a finger inside me and I wanted to gasp at the feeling but then it was gone and I was left aching for more, knowing it probably wouldn’t come any time soon. “Every orgasm belongs to me, Isabella. I’m the only one who tells you when and where to cum. On my fingers… on my face… on my cock…”
I shivered. This was the only time he talked dirty to me and I relished every minute of it and he knew it.
“So you will count the strokes,” he said. “I think twelve will be enough. And if you are good, I will give you a reward. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
I nodded; my eyes half-lidded with desire. I was dripping wet and he was not making things easier for me, especially if he didn’t want me to cum right away.
I could see him grab the soft leather paddle from our closet. It was the easiest of our supplies and I knew that he wasn’t entirely angry or too serious about the paddling. In fact, it was entirely possible he was going to go easy on me and make the spanks pleasurable for me.
Whap! I guess not. The paddle came down hard on my ass and I yelped a little in surprise.
“One!” I shouted.
He soothed my ass in between each swat and his hand felt heavenly in comparison with the paddle. By the time we reached twelve, I was a whimpering, moaning, wet mess, and I could barely even hold up my head.
“Get up, Isabella,” Emmett ordered and I knew better than to disobey him. Besides, this might mean I get my reward! Somehow, I managed to flip myself over on the ottoman and sit up on my sore ass. I’d have to ask him to rub it down later, not that he’d forget. He was such a good Dom, and husband, for that matter in that way. He always took care of me.
“Do you understand now? Will I need to punish you again?” he asked.
Probably, I thought.
I HIGHLY recommend this story!! Anything with Emmett works...but geeky, hot, Dom Emmett? TOTAL GOLD!!!
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