Thrice Illuminated

Of the stories I've written, the Church of the Illuminated stories are my favorites. I'll tell you more about why later. Right now I wanted to give you a glimpse into Part 3, which I'm planning to make available tomorrow. Here's the first chapter:

Church of the Illuminated Part Three
by Jennie May

Chapter One

“Let’s get going,” Eric called from the living room of our one bedroom apartment.
I stuck my head out of the bedroom door. He was sitting on the sofa, absently flicking through the channels with his remote. He looked annoyed. I’d just finished showering, drying my hair and putting on makeup. I was standing in my panties and bra trying to figure out what I was going to wear. “I’m not ready,” I told him. “We have time. The wedding isn’t until two.”
“You said you wanted to get lunch, remember?” Eric reminded me. He knew I’d wanted to try a new restaurant on the way to the wedding.
“We have plenty of time,” I insisted.
It had been almost three months since I’d broken the lease on my apartment to move in with Eric. Those months had been mostly bliss. I was head-over-heels for this guy. At least I was most of the time.
I looked at my closet and tried to decide what to wear. What on earth is appropriate for an Illuminated wedding? I’d asked Eric, but he only said to wear something pretty. The wedding was taking place in the afternoon, so I knew I didn’t have to go formal. I wondered if a skirt and blouse would be dressy enough. Then I wondered if my skirt would be too short.
“What is taking so long?” Eric demanded. He came through the door looking angry. “You’re not dressed? What have you been doing in here?”
“I’ve been trying to find something to wear,” I told him. “I want to look right for your ultra-conservative friends and family.”
Eric grew up as one of The Illuminated, a fact that I was constantly aware of. This religious group was full of people who were caring and kind, but they had some pretty intense beliefs.
The people getting married today were both first cousins of Eric, one on his mom’s side and one on his dad’s. It seemed to me that pretty much everyone in The Illuminated was related somehow. Ambrose was an unusual bride, being twenty and considered an old maid as far as her church was concerned. Her fiance, David, was only a little bit older. This was unusual also. There was often a good ten or even fifteen year difference in the ages of married couples of The Illuminated. Eric’s mother was a youthful forty-five, but his father was sixty.
Eric was no longer part of the group, but he did share some of their values and ideas. In particular, he believed that the man was the head of the house. This meant that in our relationship, he had total authority.
I knew that was the case, and I was okay with it. I’d always been naturally submissive, and I enjoyed power games during sex. Besides, I was curious about what it would be like to be in a relationship where I was subject to my partner’s rules and discipline. The truth was that it brought me a security that I hadn’t felt before, and the thought of it was kind of sexy. Of course I’d only been at it for two months, and nothing significant had happened. That was about to change.
Eric strode to the closet and grabbed a long skirt and a t-shirt. He thrust them at me. “Here. Wear this.”
I took the things and returned them to the closet. “Not only are those inappropriate for a wedding, they don’t even go together!”
“Well put something on,” he demanded.
“I am!” I yelled. “Get the hell out of here! I’ll be ready when I’m ready!”
Eric stared at me, and I stared back. I’d expected him to mutter something angry and then leave the room. Instead he just looked at me with this weird intensity.
“What?” I said finally, just to break the silence.
“I am warning you,” he said calmly, his eyes drilling into mine, “to change your tone and to do as I tell you.”
I should have stopped there. I should have apologized and just put something on. I couldn’t, though. I had to know what would happen. I had to know if he would really do what he’d said he would do. There was only one way to find out.
“I thought I told you to leave,” I spat.
That did it. Eric reached for me and easily pulled me down onto the bed. He was a lot bigger than me, and he was a lot stronger. It was no problem at all for him to sit down on the bed and then wrestle me across his lap.
My fight or flight response kicked in, and I struggled for all I was worth. Suddenly I did not want to know what it was like to be in a domestic discipline situation. It did not seem sexy. I was scared. My chest was fluttering, and my stomach was churning. When I couldn’t get away, I started to beg.
“Eric, please,” I whined.
He sighed and put a hand on my panties. “Let’s talk about this.”
“Will you let me up?”
“No way,” he said. “This is the perfect position to talk.”
I let my head drop onto the bedspread. Eric held me by the waist. My legs dangled out into the air.
I waited for him to say something.
“You know how I feel about our relationship,” Eric told me. “You are so very important to me, babe. But I believe in a traditional relationship. I expect you to do as I tell you, and I expect you to accept my decisions about the consequences. If you aren’t willing to do that, then you need to tell me right now.”
I thought for a moment. Was I willing to do that? Here I was, over his lap and no doubt about to get spanked for my behavior. Did I want this? “I am,” I told him. “I’m just scared.”
“You should be scared,” he said. “This is about discipline, not sex.”
My eyes began to water. How could I be crying when nothing had happened? Eric had spanked me many times before, always as a form of sexy foreplay. He had never spanked me for my behavior.
“Aren’t we going to be late?” I asked him, trying another tactic.
“We’re skipping lunch,” he announced. “This is more important.”
I felt something inside me sink down to my toes.
“I don’t want to hear you talking to me that way again,” Eric said. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I said in a very small voice.
Eric began whacking my panties at full force. It stung immediately. Within seconds, it was full-fledged pain. The smacks were painful by themselves, but the way they accumulated was unbearable. My bottom felt like it was one big ball of heat. I tried to speak, but nothing came out when I opened my mouth except for a whine. I could feel tears gather in my eyes and then fall down my face. I started to cry out loud.
This is when Eric took my panties down. He’d seen me naked a hundred times, and I yet I was embarrassed for him to see my bare bottom in these circumstances. Eric continued the spanking, and I cried harder. On bare skin, the sting was more intense and my bottom was getting more tender by the moment. When I realized that I had no control over when this was going to end, I began to panic. My legs kicked on their own, and I pounded the bed with my fists. Eric spanked on. Finally the fight was gone from me, and I melted into the bedspread. I was limp over his lap, conquered.
He stood me up then and placed me in front of him. He looked me in the eye, and I looked at the floor. “Are you ready to behave yourself?”
I nodded. I was too embarrassed to speak to him. I was also extremely turned on. Somewhere during that spanking, the sexy had returned. I wondered if Eric noticed, but I didn’t ask him.
“How do you feel?” he asked me.
I chewed on my lip. “Embarrassed,” I said.
He nodded. “Okay, that’s good. Anything else?”
“My butt hurts,” I told him.
He smiled. “Also good.”
“I’m sorry I talked to you like that. I don’t know why I did that,” I said honestly.
“Oh babe,” Eric said. I could see his eyes soften right in front of me. He stood up and put his arms around me. Then he kissed me deeply.
I kissed him back, hard, grabbing his hair with my hands. I was burning with lust and I didn’t have to wonder long if he was too. Eric pressed against me, and I felt him hard inside his black pants.
“It’s not supposed to happen like this,” Eric mumbled, apparently to himself.
“Hm?” I breathed into his ear.
“I don’t want you to associate punishment with sex,” he whispered, grasping me under my bottom and lifting me toward him.
“I’ve associated punishment with sex my whole life,” I answered. I leaned into him, and he bit my ear. It sent shivers up and down my body.
He continued nibbling on my ear and then my neck. Then he licked his way down to my bra and bit my breasts likely. It was a tiny pain, a prick, and it made me crazy with desire.
Eric put me on the bed face down and began kissing the back of my neck. He kissed his way right down my spine, stopping to lick me now and then. I groaned and wiggled, but he held me still. When he got to the base of my spine, he kissed my bottom. My panties were still around my thighs. These he pulled off and tossed onto the floor. When he opened my legs, I shuddered. He was an expert with his tongue. He moved it around toward my clit. Then he turned me over and finished the job.
My clit began to swell with the touch of his tongue. I pushed my pelvis toward him, and he took hold of my legs. Then he lightly bit the inside of my thighs.
“Oh Eric,” I breathed, on the edge.
His tongue moved back to my clit and began flittering back and forth. It was enough. I came hard, feeling my juices flowing out of control. My body rocked with intensity, and I even cried out. Then I fell back onto the bed.
I was relaxed for a moment, but then Eric started kissing me again. He stopped for a moment to remove his pants, shirt, undershirt and underwear. Naked, he climbed on top of me. His cock was swollen and ready. I grabbed hold of it, wanting to feel its thickness. Then I got up and pushed him into my mouth.
I let my tongue tease him the way he had teased me, tracing circles and moving in and out. I put one hand around the base of him, and with the other I cupped his balls.
He went still and groaned. Then he said, “I want to come inside you.”
I let go of him and let him fall onto me. He entered me quickly, and I knew he was about to burst. We moved together on the bed until he released.
Once he’d had a chance to catch his breath, he said, “We’re not supposed to have sex after a spanking.”
“We always have sex after a spanking,” I argued.
He rolled next to me and settled into the pillow. “No, I mean after discipline. That’s unless we have disciplinary sex. You’re not supposed to enjoy it. Well, not too much.”
“I think I’ll always enjoy it,” I told him. “But if it’s any consolation, my butt still hurts a lot.”
“That’s good,” he said. “Do you feel punished?”
“Punished and loved,” I told him honestly.
He put his arms around me and held me tight. We stayed there together for a long time before Eric announced it was time to get going or we’d miss the whole wedding.
I chose a black skirt and a black and white top. I was worried that someone might be upset that I was wearing black to a wedding, but Eric said to let it go. I obeyed him and let it go. It felt good.