Domestic Discipline Addict Ch. 06

Chapter Six

"Hello," she said and I recognized that lightly raspy voice.

"Vivian?" I asked.

"You called me," she said.

I chuckled.

"David Morgan," I said, "We met last night."

"Oh David, I remember you very well and I knew who it was," she said.

"Oh?" I said, demonstrating once again that I'm not always the brightest conversationalist in the world.

She chuckled that raspy soft laugh.

"David, it's the 21st century and my phone told me who it was," she said.

"Gotcha," I said.

"And what can I do for you David?" she asked.

"I was, well," and I realized I was nervous like I hadn't been since I had asked Arlene out the first time, "wondering if you were, well, free."

She actually giggled.

"Free, white, and well over 21, dear," she said.

"Actually, I had today in mind," I said, falling into the rhythm.

"So you think the old broad won't have anything to do?" she said.

"Vivian, I'm asking, not making any assumptions," I said, "I just wanted to call and see if you might like to, well, get together."

"I'm just teasing David," I said, "and I'm flattered. So come on over."

She gave me a complicated Golden address, which I quickly entered into my Google Maps program and saw an estimated travel time of about three-quarters of an hour.

"When?" I asked.

"Oh," she said, "come on by this afternoon. The pool's clear and inviting."

"Okay," I said, "we'll figure on two."

"Oh," she said softly, disappointment clear in her voice, "you'll be bringing the bride then."

"Well, we both need to learn," I said, hoping she wouldn't change her mind.

"Okay dear," she said, "bring the lovely Arlene along and we'll see what we can teach her."

"See you at two," I said and hung up before she could change her mind.

"Well," Arlene said, "I guess we're going to school."

I chuckled and said, "I guess we are."

I went up into the bedroom and rummaged through our dresser, pulling out her cutoffs so short the bottom of the roundness of that bubble ass would be peeking out and a halter top that would barely hold her boobs. Her flip-flops completed the ensemble.

While she was dressing I pulled on a pair of jeans and one of my dozens of T-shirts, this one advertising Moon Pies purchased in Chattanooga.

I pulled on a pair of sneakers and then rummaged around in our drawers and pulled out my favorite pink bikini for her and my own dark swim trunks.

We checked each other out a bit and then grinned at each other.

We chatted a bit, killing time, but we were both a bit too keyed up to really have a conversation.

Finally, I broke the tension.

"Come on toots," I said, "A quick McBurger and we'll eat inside. I DO love showing you off."

She giggled and actually blushed a little but said, "you're on."

I enjoyed her look as I walked her out to the car. The perfectly round bruises on her bubble butt peeked out from beneath the cut-off jeans and anyone who thought she might have a bra on needed immediate Lasik.

In McDonald's, we drew looks, as we always did.

I caught one matron looking over and then whispering to her husband and smiled and tipped my Coke toward her in one of those across-the-room toasts.

We finished our lunch, the Number 2 two-cheeseburger/fries/drink for her and two filet-o-fish sandwiches and a drink for me, and headed for our, well, our date.

Google maps was reliable as always and in due course, we found a lane and Google proudly told me I was there.

But it was a lane, not a place.

The mailbox had the right number so we headed up.

Almost two miles of dirt lane later we came to a beautiful valley in the foothills of the Colorado Front Range.

In the clearing was a large, sprawling log-cabin-style ranch home and several smaller buildings. A Cadillac Escalade and a 1956 Chevy station wagon looking like it had just rolled off of the showroom floor were parked in front.

I pulled up beside the station wagon and got out, going to the passenger side door to open it.

As Arlene got out of the CTS Vivian stepped out of the oversized front door looking regal in a silver pants suit covering her from her turtleneck-covered throat too long flowing pants, only her face and hands exposed.

I did a slow turn, looking at the place.

Vivian was slowly coming down the steps from the veranda and laughed that throaty laugh of hers.

"It IS impressive, isn't it?" she said.

"How..." I started but just kept turning and staring.

She chuckled and said, "Tommy is a bit of a savant when it comes to the stock market and we had the money to buy this failed dude ranch when it came on the market."

I did one more slow turn and then finished with another, "wow."

She smiled and then turned to look Arlene up and down.

"You, my dear," she said, "are far too overdressed. I don't allow clothes on my submissive guests unless I have picked them out."

Arlene looked at her and then at me and then reached down, did that arms crossed in front thing that all women seem to know how to do, and peeled off the top. Then she unbuttoned and squirmed out of the too-tight jeans and kicked off her flip flops. She left them there in the dirt.

"Much better," Vivian said, looking Arlene up and down admiringly.

"Well," she said, taking my arm possessively, "come in dears and let's talk."

We went into the house and again I was overwhelmed. The first room was a great room with overstuffed leather furniture and three giant TV screens, all showing separate channels, oddly enough, one had Fox News, one had CNN, and one had MSNBC.

She led us through that great room into a kitchen, itself bigger than many houses I had been in.

At the kitchen table, she gestured to a chair and I sat.

She crooked her finger at Arlene who went to her.

"Now dear," she said, smiling, "you need to learn the basics."

"Okay," Arlene said.

Vivian sighed.

"I'll let you get by with that one little one," she said, something I found amusing since Arlene was quite a bit the bigger of the two, "but do NOT," and here she put a little snap into her voice, "speak again unless it is to answer a question or you have been given specific permission."

To give her credit, Arlene didn't respond.

"Good girl," Vivian said again.

"Now," she went on, "first things first."

Arlene stood mute.

"On your knees little one," she said in a very soft voice.

Arlene lowered herself so gracefully it was clear she had been practicing.

"Toes pointed and sit on your heels," Vivian said.

Arlene complied.

"Back STRAIGHT dear," she snapped, "show how proud you are to be his."

Arlene complied.

"Palms flat on your thighs now," she said.

Arlene complied.

And as I watched I realized how completely erect I was.

God, she was gorgeous like that.

"Hmmmm," Vivian said, looking at her handwork.

She stood and said, "don't run off now, I'll be right back."

She left and I met Arlene's eye.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

She smiled and said, "David, I'm so goddam frightened I could wet myself but I'm so excited I can barely breathe."

I smiled and lightly stroked her hair.

"You are absolutely stunning," I said and she smiled up at me and looked so completely happy I almost understood what she meant.

Vivian returned and stood in front of Arlene.

"You are beautiful my dear," she said, "but your posture is still a little off so let's fix that."

She bent over and I watched as she put a wide collar around Arlene's neck, drawing the strap tight enough to dimple the skin slightly but not so tight to choke.

I heard a little click and when she stood I saw that a small brass padlock was on the buckle.

As she handed me the tiny key I heard a little yelp and saw Arlene touching under her chin where a tiny drop of blood was forming.

I realized that there was a little spike, bigger than a needle but not a true blade, that stuck out from the collar to that soft place inside of the bottom of her jawline.

"It's called a posture collar dear," Vivian said, patting Arlene's head, "now keep your chin up, be proud of what you are, and you won't get hurt."

"Would you like something to drink David?" she asked.

"Well, a beer would be nice," I said.

"And shall I get a water dish for your bride?" she asked.

It took a few seconds for it to sink in what she had said before I said, "that would be nice," trying to look sophisticated although I felt completely out of my depth.

She left the room again, and I suspected it was to give me a chance to talk to Arlene.

"Still okay?" I asked.

She giggled softly and said, "well, I'm about to cum but other than that I'm fine."

I chuckled and said, "I know what you mean."

Vivian came back in with a small tray.

She sat a glass mug of beer in front of me and then put a silver dish on the floor.

"Drink up honey," she said, patting Arlene on the head, "but you are not allowed to use your hands. Drink it all down like a good girl."

Then she sat across the table from me.

I watched, fascinated, as Arlene bent forward until she was on all fours and lowered her head until she could sip directly from the bowl.

"Is that what you want David?" Vivian asked, "a pet?"

I took my eyes off of that image of Arlene, drinking like a dog or a cat, and returned them to Vivian.

"I don't know," I said honestly, "this is all new to me."

She smiled, a knowing, worldly smile, and said, "Oh, I think you know perfectly well dear."

She patted Arlene on the head and said, "sit up girl."

When she did Vivian said, "open your mouth dear."

Arlene complied.

"Now take this," she said, laying a large capsule on Arlene's tongue.

Arlene's eyes got big but she closed her mouth and swallowed.

"Now tell me, dear," she said, holding Arlene's eyes with her own, "I know you have come to understand the effect of pain on you. Hell," and here she giggled, "I saw that clearly last night. But have you ever contemplated suffering?"

When Arlene didn't reply Vivian said, "it's okay dear, you may speak."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Arlene said.

"Oh, you know dear. The sharp sting of the paddle or the palm or the belt is one thing. But have you ever thought about what it would be like to truly suffer? To feel the pain build slowly from a soft ache to a sharp pain to a true agony that encompasses your entire being?"

"No," Arlene said in a very small voice, looking down.

Vivian reached over and lifted Arlene's face with her hands, holding her eyes again, "shall we try it little one?" she said in a very soft voice, something you might picture a well-practiced animal trainer using to gentle a frightened dog.

"Yesssssssss," Arlene hissed in a very soft whisper.

Vivian smiled and patted her on the head.

"Well then dears," she said, standing quickly, very businesslike now, "come with me."

As Arlene stood I noticed that the posture collar, forcing her chin up as it did, also gave her back an interesting arch making her ass stick out even more prominently than usual.

She led us down a hall and then opened a door and started down a flight of steps.

It was like entering a new world.

Colorado is a dry place generally, and warm this time of the year.

As we walked down the steps, though, the coolness and humidity were almost palpable.

At the bottom of the wooden steps, the floor was hard-packed dirt.

Vivian took a few steps and stopped and turned.

"Welcome to the dungeon," she said with a dramatic arms-spreading gesture.

"Come here Arlene," she said in that firm voice I could picture her using to train her dogs.

As my wife walked to her I couldn't help but notice how the very dark dirt on the soles of her feet was sexy.

"Assume your position," Vivian ordered.

Arlene complied, her knees on the dirt, her hands on her thighs, sitting on her dirty feet.

Vivian turned to a chest of drawers, opened one, and brought out a pair of leather collars.

I watched, fascinated, as she worked the first collar under Arlene's right breast. Close up against her body, and drew it tight until the mammary gland was forced forward, distending her nipple from the pressure, and then locked the buckle.

Her breast was already darkening as she repeated the process on the other breast.

"Are you ready to suffer?" Vivian asked.

Arlene managed to nod.

Vivian undid the collar and removed it. "This won't work with what I have in mind for you dear," she said.

"Come with me," Vivian said and led us to another section of her basement/dungeon.

"Right here," she said, pointing to a concrete pad in the dirt floor. There was a drain grate in the middle of the pad.

With her dirty knees and her darkening breasts, I don't know that I ever felt that my wife was sexier.

I watched, captivated, as Vivian pressed a button and I heard the whine of an electric motor.

A hook with a chrome chain, the chain with two small hooks on the ends, was slowly lowering from the ceiling.

As I watched she hooked the two small "S" hooks onto the "D" rings sewed into the straps binding Arlene's breasts and then started lifting with the electric motor which I realized, belatedly, was a hoist.

Her eyes got big as the pressure built and I realized that Vivian intended to suspend her by her breasts.

I did not intervene.

Arlene was on her tiptoes when Vivian stopped the motor.

She patted Arlene on the ass, that little bit of pressure causing her to dance on her tiptoes.

Her hands were wrapped around the cable holding herself up, trying to ease the pressure.

Vivian reached behind a column and a slow dribble of water began falling onto Arlene's head.

"Come, David," she said, crooking her finger for me to follow as she started toward the steps.

I looked at Arlene, struggling to hold herself up on tiptoe, but followed Vivian.

As we got to the top of the stairs she flicked a switch, leaving Arlene in darkness.

"Ummmmm," I said, as she closed the door, "how long will you leave her down there?"

She smiled and said, "not me, dear, we, but not as long as she will think it is. Sensory deprivation is a strange thing and she's already thinking it's been hours."

She turned and looked at me, deliberately looking me up and down.

"Come with me David," she said, setting off to a part of the building I hadn't seen yet.

I followed.

She turned into a bedroom and stopped and turned to look at me.

"David," she said, holding my eyes with hers, "I only told you one lie last night."

"Oh?" was all I said.

She looked at me for a long second, speculation obvious on her face, and then took a deep breath, bent over, grabbed the waistband of her flowing pants, pushed down, and then, as she stood, did the crossed arms thing and peeled off her top.

I stared.

"When I said I was the one weighing 250 it was actually closer to 350," she said.

And it showed.

Her skin hung in great folds, even her shins had drapes of skin, from where the formerly fat girl had lost a LOT of weight.

Her chin was held high as she did a slow turn.

Her back and ass looked the same, folds of skin hanging loose.

"If you're not attracted I understand," she said.

And the thing was, I DID find her attractive in a, well, an exotic and kinky sort of way.

"Come here Vivian," I said, crooking my finger to her, understanding on an almost instinctive level that this is what she wanted, what she needed.

Her eyes were downcast as she stopped a foot or so from me.

I reached and entwined my fingers in her hair, so short I could barely get a good grip, and twisted, pulling her head back, forcing her to look up at me.

"How long, little one," I said, deliberately using the turn of phrase she had used on Arlene, "since you have been properly claimed by a man?"

Her eyes were welling with tears, her perfect makeup a mess, when she whispered, "five years."

"And do you want it now?" I asked, still forcing her to look up at me.

"Please," she said very softly, her body shuddering a little with the sobs, her tears streaming now.

"I'll tell you what," I said, still controlling her, "I'll call in to work tomorrow and we can spend a day exploring your needs."

She said nothing.

"But for now," I went on, "I am worried about Arlene and so you need to clean up and get dressed so we can check on her."

"She's okay David," she said, "trust me."

I twisted harder in her hair, drawing a groan, kissed her hard, almost brutally, and slapped her ass hard enough to make her cry out.

"Do as you're told," I said, releasing her.

I followed her as she went into the bathroom, fascinated by the way each step sent ripples through all of that soft skin.

She washed her face and looked at me in the mirror.

"Yes David," she said, reading my mind in that way some women seem to be able to, "I had work done on my face or it would look like the rest of me. You can see the scars here," and she pulled her hair up and carefully parted it so I could see a hairline scar, "and here," she pulled her ear forward showing me another.

"Unfortunately," she said, turning to me, "there's not much to do about this," and she lifted one of four distinct rolls of belly skin and dropped it making an odd little slapping sound.

"So," she said, raising her hands over her head and doing another slow turn, "what you see is what you get if you're interested."

I grinned and said, "I can't wait to explore."

She smiled an odd little smile, not that predatory grin I associated with her, and turned back to the mirror.

As I watched she was converting herself back into the regal Vivian I had met the night before.

She brushed past me and went into her bedroom, opened the closet door, and brought out another of those neck-to-floor suits of hers, this one in scarlet making a contrast to her white hair and pale skin.

As I watched she stepped into the legs, worked her flabby arms into the arms of the suit, and then, in a feat of legerdemain, zipped it up from crotch to neck and suddenly the regal Vivian stood before me again.

She smiled.

"Now David," she said, "when we go downstairs I'm warning you it will be messy."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Honey," she said, touching my cheek lightly, "when you're in the dark, hanging from your tits, cold and wet and cumming you tend to lose all control."

She flashed that feral grin.

"Trust me, I know," she said, taking my hand and leading me to the stairs.

She flicked the switch at the bottom of the steps and a new light came on, this one a muted red. It was almost like being in a darkroom.

We walked to where Arlene hung, and it was literally hung.

Her feet were flat on the concrete pad and her hands held onto the cable but weren't really supporting her.

Suddenly, as I watched, she cried out, gripped the cable tightly, and her knees drew up.

When she relaxed, her feet back on the pad, I could see a thick trail of her release down her thighs.

"Right now," Vivian said, standing close and lightly rubbing my arm, "her world is a strobe, with the blackness of her agony lit by the perfect light of her orgasms."

I watched, fascinated, as she cried out again, leaning back, carrying her full weight on her breasts, now a very dark color, and came again, this time her thick natural lubricant hanging in a silvery string.

"Christ," I said very softly, afraid to break the spell, "how long will she go on like this?"

Vivian giggled very softly and said, "until she dies unless you break the spell."

As I watched I saw her peeing, the acrid scent of urine joining the earthy smell of shit and the womanscent of her arousal.

"Are you sure you don't want to take the time to explore me?" she asked doing that hand slowly up and down my arm thing that women seem to understand gets to men.

"I, uh," and I stopped, captivated with what I was seeing.