Domestic Discipline Addict Ch. 02

"Too rich for my blood," he said and I replied, "I understand but you know how it is, prime costs."

He waved and drove off.

"What was that about?" she asked when I walked back to her.

"It looks like I'll have to lower my price for you, $5,000 a night was too steep for him," I said, trying hard to maintain a straight face.

She giggled and said, "Is that part of our new, what? Our new arrangement? Will you be renting me out?"

I laughed and patted her ass.

"Oh no," I said, and gave the leash, still hanging down her back, a little tug, "you are MINE."

She smiled and said, "good."

The uber arrived and I liked that she leaned against me in the back seat, my arm around her, again like a couple of teenagers.

When we got home she turned as soon as we were through the front door and said, "wait here for a minute honey,"

So I did, watching as she left the front room and returned a few seconds later with the same chair I had used for that first spanking.

She sat it pretty much where I had, in the middle of the room, and came back, took my hand, and led me to it.

She didn't say anything and I watched, curious and, okay, aroused, as she said, "Alexa, torch songs please."

The little speaker replied, "Yes Arlene, torch songs it is."

Peggy Lee came on doing her incomparable version of "Fever" and Arlene started to strip for me.

I've said she's a good dancer, and she is, but this was new to me.

And damn she was good at the striptease too.

Her legs parted, hips whipping from side to side with the beat as from the waist up she was very still, making a show of unbuttoning each button and then using her fingertips to caress the skin she revealed.

As Peggy was ending with "what a lovely way to burn" Arlene stepped to me, draped the red blouse over my neck, and then stepped back before I could grab her.

While Julie London did "Cry Me A River," a much slower tempo, Arlene worked off the skirt, laying it in my lap, kicked off her shoes, unhooked the garter belt, rolled the nylons down and draped them over my shoulders, and finished the dance in only her collar, leash, corset, and garter belt.

Barbra Streisand's "My Man" followed and Arlene danced as the tempo slowly picked up, a delightful combination of a classic American burlesque bump and grind with Greek belly dancing.

I was captivated.

When the song ended Arlene said, a bit out of breath, "Alexa, music off please."

She caught her breath for a few seconds, her body shining with a sheen of sweat. It had been a pretty energetic dance.

She came to me and got to her knees, in a movement so graceful I assume she had been practicing.

She took my hands in hers and caressed them with her cheeks.

"I give myself to you," she said very softly, holding my eyes with hers.

"I am yours, with nothing held back," she said and kissed my hand.

"I give this with no feeling of coercion or any intent to deceive," she continued in what was clearly a set speech, well, maybe a vow, she had thought about a lot.

She kissed my hand again and took a deep breath.

"And now I offer myself for you to claim as only a man can properly claim a woman," she said softly.

She kissed my hand again, stood in that graceful way, took a step so she stood to the right of my chair, and laid across my lap.

I gently moved the silver leash off of her back and began caressing the lovely roundness of her ass.

I liked the way her ass, right where she sits, fit the cup of my hand.

I caressed like that for a few seconds, drawing a softly hummed, "mmmmmmm" from her.

When I suddenly lifted my hand, I could feel her body tense and see the way her butt tightened in anticipation.

I waited until she relaxed and then laid the first swat, my palm finding those matched spots on each cheek where she would sit.

It was much softer than a "slap," more like a "pat."

It drew a soft little giggle from her.

The entire spanking lasted almost an hour.

Between each swat, each one slightly harder than the last, I would stroke and caress, telling her how much I loved her, how beautiful she was.

What I had learned in my research is that a proper "warming up" was necessary to allow the woman (or, I suppose, the man if you happened to be in that kind of relationship) to accept a stronger, deeper, more painful spanking.

By the twentieth swat, when she was squirming and clenching between each one, her ass had a wonderful red color, the classic "rosy ass."

By the fortieth swat, I could feel her crying, her body shuddering with her sobs, but she made no attempt to stop me or to get away.

It was swat 66, by which time I was hitting pretty much as hard as I could, when she came, that spectacular spray of her release soaking my pants and spattering onto the floor.

I caressed her ass until the tension left her body and then said, sharply, "AGAIN!" and slapped her ass.

It took four more swats and she came a second time, this time crying out as her back arched.

Her entire body was shuddering when the orgasm ended.

I waited a few seconds, caressing where I was hurting her, and said, "ONE MORE!"

It took another 15 swats, she shrieking in her agony but still not attempting escape, and this time when she came she did lose bladder control, pushing, crying out, and the scent of urine mixing with her womanscent.

She didn't just relax after this one, she collapsed.

I looked at the puddle on the floor and thought, "I'm glad I put in that engineered vinyl floor."

We sat like that for some measurable fraction of eternity, me caressing her back and ass, her shuddering on my lap.

With a gasp she squirmed around and got to the floor, on her knees, almost slipping in the puddle she had made, and began that frantic grabbing at my belt and button and zipper.

I loved the look of her, tears streaking her carefully applied eye makeup, snot, and a thick mucus-laden drool hanging in thick strings from her chin and onto her breasts.

I was so erect I hurt and as she took me into her mouth my control almost failed.

I managed to hold off for a couple of minutes as she used her mouth, her head bobbing rapidly, obviously wanting to bring my ejaculation.

The slickness of her mouth combined with the pheromone laden womanscent and the harsh, acidic smell of urine undid me though and once again she pulled off quickly, accepting my ejaculation in her hair and on her face.

She kissed my hands, wonderfully slick kisses, and looked up at me.

"I love you," she whispered.

I stroked her hair and said, "I love you too."

I took her hand, supporting her as she stood, and then led her into the bedroom.

I turned down the bed and helped her into it and then began undressing.

When I was undressed and turned to the bed I smiled.

She was already asleep.

Her face was a mess with mascara streaks and snot and drool crust and semen, and she had what can only be described as a "contented" smile as she snored very softly. Asleep in her corset like that, she was absolutely gorgeous.

I left the bedroom quietly and went back into the front room where I grabbed the mop, well, the Swiffer, and carefully mopped up the puddle she had left.

House cleaning complete, I went back to the bedroom, stopped to pee, and crawled in with her.