#425) Where’s the Art, Where’s Your Soul?

It was time for Mary’s maintenance spanking. Dave found that Mary needed disciplining about once a month to keep everything copacetic. Mary found that she hated getting a painful punishment for no good reason, so she only agreed to cooperate with this monthly ritual if Dave came up with a substantial excuse to warm her bottom. This put the onus on this Top to pay close attention to his bottom’s behaviors, words, and attitude all the time. Both partners saw an improvement in their relationship from this agreement, Dave paid closer heed to everything Mary did, and Mary bratted less (a tendency Mary was infamous for), or so it seemed on the surface.
So it was the Friday evening before the first Saturday of the month. The first Saturday of each month was when Dave and Mary had agreed would be reserved for her maintenance lesson. They shared dinner together in her apartment, then streamed a movie cuddling on the couch. Like all their other dates in recent memory, this one went along smoothly, without incident or disagreement. Mary had been watching her P’s and Q’s, Dave had no excuse for tomorrow’s chastisement, and Mary knew it. As they spooned in her bed at the end of the night, Mary couldn’t conceal her Cheshire cat grin as Dave fumed in silence.
It was summertime, they slept in the nude, without the bedsheet pulled up over them. Even in the dark, Mary’s body was magnificent in Dave’s eyes, her luxuriously thick auburn hair, smooth tanned skin, pale hypnotic full moon of an ass, her several tattoos decorating her curves. They’d fallen into the habit of not making love just before the maintenance spanking sessions, so as to fuel their make-up sessions afterward to be all the hotter. So Dave rolled over, away from her intoxicating allure, rested his right hand on his throbbing erection to try to quiet his desires, and looked at the opposite blank wall of her bedroom. Then the idea came to him, making him smile more broadly than Mary had, allowing him to sleep soundly.
Mary woke up early in an ebullient mood, so sunny that she got up, performed her toilette, and cooked Dave an expansive breakfast in bed. While he ate voraciously, Mary nibbled, instead focusing on giving her man some slow-motion, languid head. Her intention was not for him to reach release, rather she wanted to tease him, antagonize him.
“You’re killing me!” Dave groaned.
“I know…!” Mary replied and gloated. “If you want me to stop, I can get dressed and go do the grocery shopping…” she smiled as she pulled on a pair of tidy-whities and a sundress.
“Aren’t you forgetting something…?”
“What?” Mary asked with an air of superiority, knowing full well what he was referring to.
“Your maintenance punishment.”
“…I assumed that I wouldn’t be getting one this month…”
“Assumption is the mother of all screw-ups, isn’t that the phrase?”
“Okay, what’s the excuse?” There was still that haughty demeanor about Mary.
“Laziness,” Dave said, looking forward to taking her to task.
“Laziness! Do I have to remind you that I just got up early to fix you a big breakfast?”
“I’m talking about something more ingrained, maybe it’d be better labeled as an internal slovenliness, whether it’s one or the other, it’s a quality that masks a fear of commitment… How long have you lived in this apartment, Mary?”
“I dunno, close to a year…”
“You have an artistic sense,” Dave said, tracing his fingers along the tats that were visible on her left shoulder blade and side, “yet in all that time, you’ve never put one piece of artwork up here in this lovely apartment…”
“I guess I’ve just been too busy…” Mary shrugged, looking at the floor, but actually focusing inwardly.
“Maybe,” Dave said softly, “but maybe it’s because you’ve been afraid to fully invest. If you decorated these walls, it would reveal the inner you… If you opened up to me, didn’t hold back, our relationship would be all the stronger… For example, if you didn’t demand an excuse every time I think you deserve to have your cute bottom warmed, you’d really experience what it is to be submissive…”
Mary’s brown eyes got glassy as Dave recounted this, seeing the truth in what he said. The tears over-brimmed her long lashes and spilled down her cheeks. With a trembling lower lip, Mary kissed her Top.
“You seem to know me pretty well… I think I need more than a maintenance spanking this morning…”
Dave moved the breakfast tray out of the way, Mary crawled willingly over his lap. Dave pulled her sundress up and her panties down, Mary arched her white ass up at him invitingly. Dave spanked her soundly, Mary took it stoically. The two kissed, knowing that this appetizer just whetted their appetite, their hunger was keen, sharper than the steak knife Mary had provided for the sirloin she had cooked him along with the eggs. But, for the first time, Mary didn’t fear her desires, he reveled in them. They carried the dirty breakfast dishes down to the kitchen together and put them in the sink. Dave got the bamboo cane from the hall closet while Mary readjusted her clothing to be out of the way and stuck her ass out again.
He didn’t hold back. Dave caned Mary’s bottom very thoroughly, making her shriek, making her bend her knees in an effort to absorb the pain, making her cry profuse tears, making her confess her heart’s desires.
“I’m yours David! …Or, more precisely, I want to be yours… Make me yours… Mark me as yours… I’m ready to commit… Beat a tattoo into my backside…”
These loud exhortations allowed Mary to get through the caning. She was well behaved, staying bent over, holding as still as possible until Dave put the rod down and took his submissive into his arms. Then she crumpled. He helped her over to the couch. She snuggled into him and dissolved into sobs. Dave let her get it all out, simply petting her silken hair, whispering sweet endearments into her ear. No sooner had she quieted herself, and the room was completely still, did Mary shift gears.
“Fuck me, lover,” she whispered back.
Even though he’d just given her the hardest whipping of her life, Dave found Mary’s pussy just as aroused as if he’d administered a playful spanking.
“You are the sexiest thing on the face of this earth,” he growled as their sexes joined.

The fuck was just as intense as the punishment had been, leaving them both satiated.

“There’s an art fair in that downtown park this weekend…” Dave suggested, and this news made Mary’s eyes light up.

It was as though Mary was a little. Her voice had a little girl’s innocence and vulnerability. “I’m ready to show the world my inner life…” she offered. “I’m ready to let you in, Dave…”

(Here’s another example of apartment walls that are bare. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve walked into friend’s homes to see walls just like this, whereas there is no blank space on any of my walls. That’s what inspired this piece.)

5 responses to “#425) Where’s the Art, Where’s Your Soul?”

  1. I know I have mentioned this b4
    (and I know this is a fictional story): Butt I would love to have a sub willingly place herself over my lap for a disciplinary spanking. Honest about her recent behavior and contrite enough about it to place herself in position. Totally trusting me to give her what she needs (and maybe even what she deserves)There would definitely be pain and probably tears butt she is willing to accept it in order to be a better sub for me.
    I have actually dreamed about this fantasy.
    Thank you for this story. It really resonates with me. I hope I can find her soon.
    .

    Liked by 1 person

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