Much to Learn: Housewarming

With thanks to Paolo of Wholebean and I

Sarah and Mark’s Story began here

Sarah stood over the remains of the clothes airer, in shock at what had just transpired. It was like a scene from a bad horror movie, or perhaps a video game. She had been cleaning, no- waging battle on, the apartment for the last week. “Never again will I have houseguests, particularly houseguests I’m trying to impress, within a week of moving,” she had sworn countless times as she had scoured and hoovered the place into a somewhat habitable condition. Hopefully, that would not be a concern for quite some time. She was in the mood to settle, and this was becoming a fine place to do so.

The disposal of the clothes airer was supposed to be a quick, simple task. The previous tenants had left it on the balcony, and while the thing was still standing when she moved in, it had acquired a rusty-dusty-outdoorsy feel that was unfit to mix with clean laundry. She had debated wiping it down and moving it inside, though a more thorough examination of the rusted hinges revealed that it did not have much left in it’s natural life. Better to put it out of its misery and start anew.

And so she had started to break it down to a size the estate rubbish bin could swallow. No sooner had she collapsed the first section than hundreds of. . .she was going to call them “weevils” cam skittering out. Sarah liked to think that she had a healthy, enlightened respect for life in all its forms. One look at the black forms spilling out of the broken metal tube had rid her of any such higher ideals as a baser survival instinct took over and the screaming and stomping began.

It had been a tough fight, but she had won decisively, and now towered over the broken form of the former airer as it bled rusty water over her balcony. Sarah sighed. The thing had been an eyesore before, and was even more so now. It needed to go before Mark arrived. She thought back to her last visit to his house. It was spotless. Controlled. Just like Sir. Her house. . .was getting there. Just like her.

She prodded the tangled remains of the airer with the toe of her shoe. No further lifeforms emerged. Before she could ponder what might be lying patiently in wait in the broken tubes, she quickly wrapped the thing in six black bags and set off for the rubbish bin at a run, heaving the load into the bin as soon as she was within reach.

Returning to her sitting room, she flopped down on the couch in relief. It felt wonderful to have a couch of her own again; her job had kept her on the move for much of the last five years, and she’d had neither time nor inclination to invest in furniture.

Now things were different. Now she could begin to invest in her life here, to build a deeper connection to the things and people around her. Which, of course, included Him.

Where was he, anyway? She had thought he’d be here hours ago. She was becoming a bit anxious, but had to admit the delay had worked in her favour. Even after a full week of frantic cleaning, she still had a list a mile long to work her way through that morning- long enough to keep her from worrying about what might have stalled him until mid-afternoon.

Just as she reached for her phone to call and ask if he had gotten lost, the phone vibrated itself off the side table. She dove down to retrieve it, noting briefly and belatedly that the floor could use another round with the hoover, before jumping excitedly when she saw the text from Mark, banging her shin rather painfully against the table. He was lost, but close. Was it a man thing or a dom thing that had driven him to wander so long before asking for directions? At the moment she didn’t care, she was just glad he was finally here. She ran out the door to find him, not even bothering to grab her jacket.

A few moments later, she directed him into the courtyard parking lot of her apartment, and all nearly jumped into his arms as he emerged from the car, stopping short when she noticed the spiny plant in his hand

“It’s good to see you too,” he chuckled as he emerged from the driver’s seat.  “This is for you- something to help you settle in here,” he said as he gave her the cactus and embraced her in a half-hug.  “Now let’s see this new home of yours,” he said as he stepped back for her to lead them to her door.

Once inside, he set down his bag, a very small bag, Sarah noted, worrying that he must not be planning for staying as long as they had originally hoped. She banished the thought from her mind; she knew he was busy and that the three day visit they had planned might not be feasible. She was determined to enjoy whatever time he had to give her. Shaking her head to clear it, she joined him as he conducted a quick inspection of the place. As he peeked into each room, she carefully watched his face. Were her preparations sufficient? Did he hate the place? Would he want to come back?

“Very nice,” he proclaimed as he finished. “The balcony is an excellent feature.”

Sarah almost melted with relief. “Glad you like it,” she said with a smile. Her eyes drifted to the table which she had knocked askew earlier, and she bent to straighten it. He shot her a brief questioning look, and she shrugged. “I must have knocked into it when I was running out to greet you. Just clumsy, I guess.”

He smiled and shook his head slightly as he turned to go out to the balcony. She joined him, wrapping her arms around him in another hug as they looked out over the river.

“Why are you clumsy?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“I just am,” she shrugged, having long ago accepted this rather inconvenient trait of hers.

He turned to face her, the intense domly look coming over his face. “In my experience,” he said, “clumsiness is often caused by a lack of focus. Do you think this might have something to do with it?”

Sarah shuffled her feet as the silence stretched. “I guess it might,” she admitted.

“I thought so,” he said with a small smile. “On that note, I have another surprise for you to try out. It’s a good thing you’re wearing jeans. I think you’ll need them,” he said ominously as he turned to go back inside. “I think we’ll have you over the armchair,” he told her as he turned to retrieve his bag.

Trembling, she bent over the chair. Her resolve to face forward didn’t last very long, and she snuck a quick look behind her to see him brandishing a short wooden paddle with three holes down the middle. Large holes, too- it was almost more hole than paddle. She felt her eyes widen and saw him smirk in response. “Bend over,” her reminded as he took up position behind her.

Sarah held her breath as she waited for the first stroke to fall. It came with a sharp crack that shocked her, but not nearly as much pain as she had feared. She relaxed a bit, but was caught by surprise by the second stroke, louder and harder and with a sharp twinge of pain that shot through her. Of course, she chided herself. He’ll start lightly and then go from there. As expected, the third swat was even harder, though she managed to brace herself and reacted only with hiss and a wince.

“Let’s see the damage,” she heard him say behind her. She awkwardly knelt up on the chair to shuck down her jeans. He gently pushed her back over once the garments were out of the way, running his hands along her bottom as he examined her.

“You’re nice and pink,” he proclaimed, “though I think you can take a bit more.” He punctuated this statement with another swat from the paddle that made her yelp. She squeezed the padded chair back with all her might as she rode out the pain from the next two strokes, stunned by the ferocity of the tiny implement. She felt genuine relief when he gently helped her to her feet and hugged her.

“I think that chair is an excellent place for a spanking,” he declared. “You took that well, though we’re not through yet,” he said with an evil smile. “We need to try a few more positions before we decide how you’ll be spanked in your new apartment. Let’s try the couch next. I’ll have you over my knee.”

Before she could protest, Mark gently hauled her over to him and positioned her over his lap. She huffed as he shifted her bottom into a more spankable position. Figures he would chose to celebrate her move in this particular manner. Not that she minded all that much; she had to admit it had been far too long since her last spanking.

She squirmed as his hand began to further redden her bottom, wondering if she would ever get used to this sensation, and wondering if she wanted to. As unpleasant as the sting was at the time, it was worth it for the wonderfully warm feelings afterwards.

Before long, she couldn’t help but kick at bit at each slap. With her bottom still sore from the paddle, even the hand spanking was proving difficult to take.

He took pity on her when she began to yelp, and let he stand after a quick rub. She moved to restore her clothing to it’s proper position, but he caught her hands firmly, evil smile still in place.

“I think we have one more position to try; kneel on the couch. I think you could do with a dose of the slipper,” he said as he retrieved a flipflop from the bag.

Sarah eyed the implement suspiciously. This, too, was knew. She hoped it wouldn’t prove as evil as his last “surprise,” but gamely positioned herself as requested. She heard him slap the slipper down a few times, and wondered what he was testing it on. Whatever it was, it was making an incredible amount of noise. It wasn’t until he placed a hand on her back that she realised he had been hitting her; it truly was all bark and no bite. She had to bite her tongue to keep from giggling. She knew he had a cane lurking somewhere, and had a feeling that laughter during her slippering might incur that particular penalty. If the flip flop was all bark and no bite, the cane was the exact opposite.

He paused, and she heard him wander off to the kitchen. Peeking up, she saw him remove a small knife from the block. She shuddered, wondering what he might have in store. She knew of several painful things that might require the use of a knife. Before she could get too worried, she saw him cut the straps off the flipflop and place the knive down by the sink. For the milionth time that day, she sighed with relief, bending back over the couch to await the next dose- or would tha be “placebo?”- of the slipper.

She heard the swats began again, and squirmed a bit for effect, proud of her little deception as he quickly brought the spanking to a close and lifted her into a lingering hug. When she pulled away, he smiled down at her- a happy, contented smile rather than the evil one from before.

“Now, why don’t you get dressed again. Although I don’t mind the rosy bottom on display, I think wherever you’re planning on going for dinner would beg to differ,” he said with a wink and a hug.

Sarah hugged him back, revelling in the close contact. She had missed him, and she had missed this feeling in particular. Now that he was here, she basked in the same blissful happiness she felt each time he spanked her.

The bliss lasted all evening, making the meal at her favourite Italian restaurant and the ale at her local pub that much more enjoyable- if a bit squirmy. She would need to scout out restaurants with padded seats for his next visit.

She curled next to him on the couch- her couch- that evening, feeling truly settled for the first time in her new home. It was the first time she had truly just sat, just enjoyed being there, savouring the peace and his presence and the warmth in her bottom.

He spanked her again before bed, a quick reheating of the warmth he had ignited earlier, that kept her warm all night long. She smiled as she drifted off to sleep by his side; this truly was a proper housewarming in every sense of the word.

To be Continued