If there was one chore Irene hated the most, it was cleaning. It was just a never-ending task that as soon as you ignored it for a moment, piled up into an insurmountable load of work. She could spend her whole Saturday cleaning up her apartment, and less than a full week later, she was back to where she started with no difference to be seen.
Her apartment wasn’t even that big of a mess, it wasn’t dirty, she wasn’t some kind of hoarder… It was just, lived in. A pile of dirty clothes beside the couch where she’d undressed the night before, yesterday’s dishes on the coffee table in front of the TV, a crumpled up blanket she’d cozied up under as she’d watched her favorite show, an empty bag of chips and an empty bottle of soda half-hidden underneath said blanket…
Well, perhaps there was more than one set of clothing there, as well as some dirty socks tucked in between the couch cushions, and those dishes were on top of the dishes of the day before… It wasn’t ever just last night’s mess that needed to be cleaned, things piled up…
Some days when she didn’t have to go to work, she didn’t even want to leave her room so she wouldn’t be confronted by the mess. Her bedroom wasn’t much better though, there wasn’t much room to move around and what little floor-space she had was covered in dirty laundry.
She’d tried several methods in the past to keep up with this chore, some with more success than others: detailed planning with specific areas to clean for each day, gamification where she’d reward herself for keeping the apartment tidy, dividing the large chore into tiny manageable smaller tasks, … All of it worked for a while, until she got bored of it.
The time when her apartment had been relatively clean most was when she was still dating her ex Michael. First because she didn’t want him to think she was a slob, and later when she was more comfortable around him, because he’d help out by giving her a firm spanking whenever her apartment was too big of a mess.
It was mostly for fun of course, a kinky roleplaying fantasy, her messy apartment was just an excuse – but it did mean her apartment got cleaned regularly, usually with her red bottom on display.
It was so much fun in fact, that even after they broke up, she kept his method. Rather than rewarding herself for cleaning up, she’d spank herself to motivate herself to get started. It worked for a while, but wasn’t nearly as fun when you did it yourself. So now her apartment once more looked the way it does.
It was a regular Saturday, when Irene got a message from Michael. They’d broken up on friendly terms and remained distant friends. They didn’t hang out anymore, but occasionally still talked or messaged each-other.
“Hey Irene, I recently came across this ad and immediately thought of you.”
Attached to the message was a screenshot of an ad for cleaning services, mentioning how it offered a unique experience, they didn’t just clean for you, but set you up with a special method that made sure things stayed clean for longer. It also mentioned that it was a free service, no fee required.
“Sounds like a scam,” she messaged her friend.
“I know the guy who runs this, it’s totally legit,” Michael replied.
Irene hesitated for a bit, she knew that her messy apartment was a problem, but she didn’t want to admit that she needed help with it, especially not to her ex. “I’m fine, I don’t need any help,” she replied to him.
“At least meet with the guy,” her ex replied, “I talked with him about their methodology and I think it would be a perfect match for what you need.”
Irene rolled her eyes, “Fine, I’ll contact him,” she replied, just to get him off her back.
Three days later, Irene was sitting on her couch, she’d just dropped an empty plate of food on the ground by accident when trying to rest her feet on the coffee-table while watching TV.
Cursing herself as she had to get back up from her comfortable position, she picked up the plate and placed it back on top of the pile of dishes. Part of her knew she should just pick up the entire stack and carry it to the kitchen, but she wasn’t in the mood.
When she sat back down, she was reminded of the ad her ex had shown her. She hadn’t done anything with it yet, she’d just told him she would, to change the subject. She wasn’t planning on actually contacting this person or firm that could help her.
Still annoyed with herself for dropping the plate, she couldn’t entirely enjoy the show she was watching, admonishing herself that she should be cleaning instead. Eventually, as a sort of compromise she picked up her phone and looked up the ad, calling the number provided. At least now she was doing something, she thought, though she knew she was still just procrastinating.
“Hello, this is Eric,” someone picked up.
“Hi, this is Irene,” she replied, “I’m calling about the cleaning services ad?”
“Hello Irene,” the man replied, “I do indeed provide a special cleaning service. May I ask where you heard about this?”
“A friend of mine shared one of your ads,” Irene replied, for some reason she was a bit nervous, if there were people who’d help her, they’d first have to see how big of a mess her apartment was.
“Did your friend tell you where he found my ad?” Eric replied, “I offer a few different services and have very targeted advertising. If I know which ad, I’ll know exactly what it is you’re looking for.”
“I don’t know,” Irene replied, “He said he knew you? His name is Michael.”
There was a short pause on the phone, “Ah, I remember now, Irene right? Michael mentioned you might be calling.”
Irene blushed slightly, Michael and she had broken up almost a year ago and he was still arranging things for her.
“If you want, we can meet up and I can explain exactly what I do and how I can help you, Irene,” the man continued.
“So, should I come to your office or something?” Irene asked, this was already starting to sound like a lot of trouble to go through, she could just clean the apartment herself…
“I don’t have an office,” the man replied, “Preferably we could meet at your apartment, that way I can see how much help you actually need. If you’re not comfortable with that, we can meet somewhere more informal, like a coffee-place.”
Irene hesitated for a moment, she wouldn’t want a stranger in her apartment, but then again if they were coming here to clean, they would need to come in… “I guess we could meet at my place,” she replied.
“Great,” the man replied, “Do you have time today?”
“Today?” Irene replied, slightly alarmed.
“There’s no point in procrastinating,” Eric replied, “Besides, I want to see the actual state of your apartment right now, if you clean up before I come over, I won’t get a proper assessment.”
Irene could feel her nervousness increasing, but she knew she didn’t have any other plans today, except for lazing about in front of the TV. Might as well get this over with, she thought, “I have time today,” she replied.
“Alright, give me your address,” Eric replied, “And I’ll come over.”
Irene told him her address, looking around her apartment and the mess she’d made since she last cleaned over a week ago.
“Great, I can be there in an hour,” the man replied, “Is that alright, or do you have any more questions?”
Irene shrugged, she imagined she’d be able to ask her questions when he was here, “No, I’ll see you then,” she replied.
“Great,” Eric replied, “I’ll see you soon, don’t do any cleaning before I get there.”
Irene chuckled as she hung up, she hadn’t planned on doing any cleaning, but now for some reason she was itching more than ever to put at least some things away.
Nervously she waited for the man to arrive.
Almost exactly an hour later, the doorbell rang.
Irene got up from her couch, tossing aside her blanket and walked up to the door to let him in. Halfway there she realized she was already in her pajamas, some cute pink cotton pants and sweater, soft and cozy. With a blush she stopped, wondering whether she had time to quickly get dressed.
The doorbell rang again.
Well at least they were proper pajamas, she thought, not the sexy, revealing night-gowns she sometimes wore. They provided decent cover and – whilst embarrassingly cute – didn’t seem too inappropriate. It seemed to fit the current situation, setting the tone that she wanted to relax and be comfy rather than having to deal with cleaning.
She buzzed Eric in and then had one last look around her apartment as she waited for him to come up the stairs. Once she heard him approaching she opened the door to let him in.
Whilst he was obviously older than her, he seemed younger than she’d imagined, and quite handsome as well. He was holding a binder in one hand, the other reaching out to shake hers. “Hi, I’m Eric, nice to meet you Irene,” he said when she grabbed his hand.
“Hi, come in,” Irene stammered, more nervous than before. She could feel the blush on her face as she allowed him into her messy apartment.
Eric followed her inside, looking around him, though she couldn’t quite read his face. “Shall we sit at the kitchen table?” he asked.
Irene nodded, clearing away some of the dirty dishes that were still on the table – from three days ago, she thought – and then sat down on the chair opposite him.
The man smiled, “I can see that you’re a bit nervous, but there’s no need to be embarrassed, Irene,” he said, “A lot of people need help with household chores, especially people who live by themselves and have a full-time job as well. We all want some free-time and not having to spend all our days working and cleaning.”
Irene nodded, licking her lips as she tried to calm herself a bit. This was normal, she assured herself, that’s why people who had the money hired cleaning ladies or even a full cleaning staff. “I know,” she replied.
The man smiled, “Besides, from what I’ve seen so far, it’s not even that bad, I’ve seen apartments in a much worse state than yours.”
Irene smiled, slightly reassured, “So, what exactly do you do? The ad said something about a special method?”
Eric nodded, “Yes, I think my method would be perfect for someone like you. I can see that with the way things are now cleaning seems like an overwhelming task, one you don’t even want to start on. What we should work towards is a clean apartment that only needs a little maintenance each day, five to ten minutes tops, to prevent it from becoming so overwhelming.”
Irene nodded, that’s what she wanted as well, but some days she just didn’t want to bother, and every missed ten minutes added to the mess that it was now.
“All you really need is a bit of encouragement,” the man continued, “And help on days when it gets as bad as it is now.”
Irene blushed slightly, hearing him call it bad, but also surprised by how well he seemed to understand her already.
“That’s where my method comes in,” Eric said, “We arrange several preset dates on which I come and help you clean the apartment. After every visit, you’ll have a completely clean slate so that you can try and keep things under control until the next visit, without having to be overwhelmed by such a massive job.”
Irene nodded enthusiastically, if she got help with the task of cleaning up the accumulated mess, she wouldn’t be so burned out on cleaning a little more every day after. “So, you just come and help clean once in a while to lighten the load?” she asked, slightly confused what was so special about this method.
“Not exactly,” Eric replied, “Help wasn’t exactly the correct word, I can do all the cleaning, you don’t have to do anything. That way you have all your energy left to keep the apartment clean until our next visit.”
Irene raised an eyebrow, “What’s the catch?” she asked, this almost sounded too good to be true, especially if he was doing this for free.
Eric smiled, with a bit of a twinkle in his eye, “Well, I don’t want to have to keep coming back, we need to make some progress too. The goal is that you’ll learn to keep the apartment clean enough so that I’m no longer needed,” he replied, “And as I said, you’ll need some encouragement for that. On my regular visits, I won’t just clean the apartment, I’ll also provide some stern feedback and strict discipline to inspire you to work harder next time.”
Irene felt a sudden blush creeping back up on her face, “Discipline?” she asked.
The man nodded, “Self-discipline is the main issue here, it’s hard to rule yourself when you know you could just do what you want instead, so it’s better to let someone else do it.”
Irene’s blush deepened, suddenly reminded of her time with Michael. It had been better when he did it, even though that had only been for fun. “So what kind of discipline?” she asked, now that her mind had brought up those memories.
“I believe corporal punishment is most effective,” the man replied, “It’s direct, there’s no wriggle room or tricks to get out of it, and once it’s done it’s over and you’re ready to start with a clean slate.”
Irene could feel herself blushing scarlet now, with her naughty, kinky memories suddenly matching what the man was proposing. “Corporal punishment?” she stuttered.
Eric nodded, “A good spanking usually does the trick,” he said, “We can get into the details of what you can expect later.”
Irene licked her lips, not just nervous, but suddenly slightly horny as well. “So what, you come clean my apartment, and then you spank me?” she asks.
The man chuckled, “That’s the gist of it,” he replied, “There’s a bit more to it than that, if you’re still interested, I can explain further.”
Irene hesitated for a moment. She could at least hear him out, she thought, that didn’t mean she was agreeing to anything. She nodded.
“We first agree on some fixed dates that I’ll come over,” the man began, “Once a week at first, then as you make progress, once every two weeks, and finally only once a month. The goal is to stretch the time between visits, until they’re no longer needed. When we reach the final stage, once a month, visits will also be on random, unspecified dates, to make sure you don’t just clean the day before.”
Irene nodded, that made sense, though what she was most curious about was the discipline, not the cleaning.
“During these appointments,” he continued, “I will first assess the situation, how well you’ve managed to keep the apartment clean. Then I will get to work, making sure the apartment has a clean slate for next week. When I’m done, you’ll get some feedback on how you’ve done and tips on how to do better, this usually includes a bit of scolding as well, as I’m sure you’ll need it. And finally, your punishment, which consists of a bare bottom spanking, the intensity of which is decided by how messy your apartment was when I arrived.”
Irene couldn’t help but feel her excitement rising as the possible punishment was brought up. Somehow this was no longer just about helping her with her apartment, it had become something naughty and exciting.
“So, you come over, clean my apartment, and then spank me?” she repeated herself, rather breathlessly.
The man grinned, “Exactly,” he replied, “Would you like that?”
Irene licked her lips, she’d never understood why this idea of being disciplined turned her on so much, not when she’d been with Michael, participating in his fantasies, nor when she’d done it to herself after. “Well, it certainly is unique, as advertised,” she replied, trying to act light-heartedly.
Eric nodded, “Well, I’ll let you think about it if you want, you don’t have to make a decision right now. Personally I’m sure that a sore red bottom is the exact motivation you need…” he paused for a moment, “In fact, I believe your friend Michael told me you already have a bit of experience with such a method.”
Irene gasped in surprise, shocked that her ex had shared such information with a stranger. Suddenly she wondered how the two of them knew each-other, she’d been pretty sure she’d met all his friends when they were still together.
“We can also do a try-out,” Eric continued when she didn’t reply, “And you can always cancel our appointments if you’re not satisfied with the results.”
Irene nodded slowly, part of her wanted to go through with it right away. She could feel her body tingling with excitement. It seemed so hot and naughty, her time with Michael had always been the most satisfying when they’d added some BDSM into the mix. This was different though, this wasn’t about sex, it was about discipline, yet somehow that turned her on just as much, if not more. “I think we could do a try-out,” she replied.
The man smiled broadly, “Great, shall we set up a date then?”
Irene licked her lips excitedly, “What about tonight?” she asked, “No point in procrastinating, right?”
Eric chuckled, “That’s right. Well if you’re up for it, then let me explain what we’ll do.”
Irene nodded, nervous but excited.
“I will start by checking your apartment, I’ll need to get acquainted with the layout and where everything belongs before I can start cleaning. Then, I’ll start a clock, a timer, and get to work. You don’t have to do anything, you can just sit back, relax and watch me do the work. Or, you can get up and help. The more you help, the quicker the timer can be stopped. This is important, because the more time on the clock, the more intense your punishment will be.”
Irene nodded, excitedly.
“Your punishment will be a spanking, over my knee, on your bare bottom. If the clock exceeds fifteen minutes, you will gain extra swats with a small paddle. If the clock exceeds thirty minutes, you will strip down to your underwear for your punishment, bottom still bare of course. If the clock exceeds a full hour, you will be bent over or lay down for extra swats with a leather belt. If the clock exceeds two hours, you will strip completely naked for your punishment. And lastly if the clock exceeds four hours, you will be tied up and paddled or whipped with several implements of my personal choosing.”
Irene could feel herself breathing heavily, her heart racing, her excitement increasing with every step up in the proposed discipline. Michael had only ever spanked her with his hand, a hairbrush once. Yet she wasn’t as nervous as she was excited and aroused.
“Of course, like I said, you can help out to make sure the clock doesn’t last that long,” Eric said as if to assure her.
Irene nodded, “I’d like to try,” she replied.
The man nodded excitedly, “Alright, mind if I have a look around then?
Irene nodded again and looked on nervously as Eric stood up and started strolling through her apartment, picking up items, looking into cupboards, even entering her bedroom.
A good ten minutes passed while Irene silently watched the man go through her apartment. She could feel her body tingling with excitement, waiting nervously. She blushed slightly whenever he looked at her when he found something especially dirty, such as day old dishes, or embarrassing, such as yesterday’s bra and underwear hidden underneath the couch.
Finally, he joined her again, sitting down at the chair opposite her. He took his phone from his pocket and placed it on the table after opening a clock app.
Irene licked her lips nervously.
“I’ve had a good look around, Irene,” the man said, “And I found a few things that surprised me, as well as a few that I expected. I found a lot that needs to be improved, but two main issues kept popping up.”
Irene blushed slightly, his tone was suddenly a lot more strict than before, and she remembered now that a scolding might be part of the agreement.
“First of all is your eating habits, I found dirty dishes and empty wrappers and bottles everywhere. I would suggest that you keep food contained to the kitchen area of your apartment, if you can’t do that, you need to clean it up immediately after you’ve used it, and not keep it laying around until later. Do you understand, young lady?” he asked.
Irene nodded abashedly.
“Tell me you understand, Irene,” Eric said sternly.
“I understand,” she whispered.
“Secondly, I found dirty laundry everywhere,” he continued, “That means you should be doing laundry more often. But what also might help is choosing one fixed place where you get dressed, so that you can place a laundry bin to keep all your dirty clothes in one place.”
Irene nodded again.
“Speak up, young lady,” the man commanded.
Irene blushed, “I understand,” she repeated.
“I’m not going to sugarcoat it, there’s a lot of work to be done,” he continued, “If I’d have to hazard a guess, we could get very close to that four hour mark. So I suggest you help, since this is your first time, you don’t want things to get that bad. You’re in a lot of trouble, young lady.”
Irene could feel her heart beating in her throat and she was having trouble looking the man in the eye, “I’ll help,” she promised.
“Good,” the man said and he tapped the clock on his phone to start the timer, “You grab a laundry basket and start collecting all the dirty laundry. I’ll begin gathering all the dirty dishes.
Irene jumped up in surprise, the timer had started, the numbers quickly increasing. Suddenly feeling rushed she froze, not sure what to do.
“There’s a laundry basket in the bathroom, young lady,” the man reminded her.
Irene nodded, yes, she knew that… She rushed to the bathroom and grabbed the basket, and then started gathering clothes.
The man was efficient, and demanding, constantly ordering her next task without losing focus on what he was doing himself. It helped a lot that she didn’t have to think for herself what needed to be done, but could just follow his orders instead.
She wasn’t as adept as he was, she was constantly hesitating, unsure where to put something, or distracted by the clock on the table, checking how much time had passed already and daydreaming about her soon to come punishment.
He was also meticulous. She’d wondered at first how cleaning her apartment could take up to four hours, but when she saw him not just gathering her dishes and placing them on the sink to deal with later, but washing them by hand right away, she understood. He wasn’t going to just clean her apartment until it looked acceptable, he was going to do it thoroughly, until everything was spic and span, looking underneath the couch, dusting the shelves, cleaning underneath the carpet.
She wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to be so perfectionistic, that she’d be happy if everything just looked clean. But she knew that wouldn’t help, if anything that would just get her scolded again. He was in control now and all she could do was do as he said and hope that timer didn’t run up too high.
Slowly – much too slowly when she considered the numbers on the clock – her apartment started to look clean. The laundry was sorted in different baskets, and the washing-machine was running. The dishes were washed, dried, and placed in the cupboards. Trash was sorted in different bags. The floor was mopped. Her cabinets reorganized.
Then finally, Eric stepped up to the table and tapped his phone, pausing the clock.
Irene stepped up slowly, nervously looking at the timer. She’d been keeping an eye on it of course, so she already knew what it would say. Two hours and sixteen minutes. She blushed deeply, she remembered the rules he’d set quite clearly. Over two hours meant she’d only escaped the four hour mark, but would still get the belt, and she’d have to strip naked. If she’d worked just a bit faster, just sixteen minutes and she would’ve been spared that last part.
“Well, thanks to your help, we finished more quickly than I’d anticipated, Irene,” Eric said with a smile.
Irene nodded. While working she’d felt nervous and excited, but now that that was over, those feelings multiplied. Her whole body tingling, her bottom especially.
“Now, because this is your first time and it’s just a try-out, I’m willing to be lenient and half your time,” Eric continued, “That puts you at only one hour and eight minutes. Unfortunately not enough to escape a few swings from my belt, but eight minutes gets you a lot less strokes than a whole extra hour would have.”
Irene licked her lips. She hadn’t considered that more time also meant a harsher punishment, so there was still a difference between one hour and one hour and fifty-nine minutes, even though no extra punishment was added. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Now, let’s get you motivated to keep this place clean for the rest of the week,” Eric said with a grin, “Let’s start by stripping down to your underwear, since we went over the thirty minute mark.”
Irene bit her lower lip excitedly, not sure whether she should be aroused by her upcoming punishment, or worried. Then she remembered she was still wearing her cute pink pajamas, with nothing underneath. “I’m not wearing any,” she whispered.
Eric chuckled, “Go get some then,” he said, nodding toward her bedroom.
Irene bit her lip more firmly, deciding to choose arousal over worry. “We did cross the two hour mark,” she said.
The man raised an eyebrow and then nodded, “Your choice,” he said.
Irene slowly pulled up the pink sweater, revealing her naked body underneath, her heavy breasts and erect nipples. She didn’t look at the man in front of her as she then pulled down her pants as well, completely baring herself. Fully naked, slightly shivering she stood in front of him. “You’re still going to be lenient though, right?” she asked, “Based on half the time?”
Eric smiled, “Of course,” he said, now eyeing her up and down, “Come with me.”
Her heart racing, Irene followed him to the couch where he sat down. “Across my knee, young lady,” he commanded.
Slowly she laid down on the couch, the lower half of her naked body across his lap where she could feel a bulge of excitement extruding from his trousers, pressing firmly against her lower belly. She blushed, but she knew he’d be turned on by all of this, there was a reason his services were free after all.
She had to grind her teeth to stop herself from moaning with excitement when he placed his hand on her bottom, intimate and arousing. Then he raised his arm.
The first few smacks were slow but firm, sending shivers up her spine and a tingling, burning sensation through her skin. She couldn’t help but moan softly.
Then the intensity increased, each swat across her backside hard and quick, sending waves of stinging pain through her buttocks. She grunted and moaned, but knew that he was only getting started.
Again and again his hand rained down on her backside, the pain increasing as quickly as her arousal, stinging pain in her bottom matched by hot wet excitement between her legs.
But soon the pain seemed to take over. This wasn’t the playful, erotic spanking her ex-boyfriend had given her in the past. This was discipline, a lesson she needed to learn. Eric’s hand rained down on her poor behind without pause as to remind her what he really was here for.
Irene bit her lips and buried her face in the couch cushions as she tried to deal with the ever increasing pain in her sore, throbbing backside.
Occasionally Eric paused, resting his hand on her bottom, gently caressing it, soothing some of the pain. It was in these moments that she remembered how naked she was, how vulnerable, and how aroused.
It never lasted long though, and too quickly she’d be squealing again and kicking her feet as he chastised her bottom with the palm of his hand. If anything the pauses only made things worse, because that short respite only made it so she could hold on for longer.
“Please, I’ve learned my lesson,” she said as her bottom was burning hot like a bonfire, brightly red under the onslaught of Eric’s hand, “I’ll keep it clean, I promise.”
Eric paused, softly massaging her bottom as if her pleas had convinced him, but soon after raised his arm again, with no explanation for why he’d continue or any indication for how much longer it would take.
Irene squealed and whimpered and moaned as he set her backside on fire. She kicked her feet and squirmed across his lap, unaware of the effect her naked body was having on the man who was punishing her.
She pleaded and begged, promising she’d keep her apartment clean again and again, but his hand kept coming, the sound of her discipline echoing in her apartment.
Finally, he stopped, not because she begged, but when she was silent, taking her punishment with just a few moans and desperate squeals.
“Get up,” Eric commanded.
Irene quickly pushed herself to her feet, looking back at her bottom that was bright red, reaching for it with both hands to soothe the pain.
“Hands on your head,” the man commanded.
Irene blushed, but obediently placed her hands on her head, she was in no mood to disobey.
Eric stood up, face-to-face, right in front of her, Irene was once again reminded of how naked she was, standing so close to him. Despite the pain in her bottom, she felt another burst of excitement.
“Stay here, don’t move,” he said.
She waited patiently, hungrily as he disappeared into the bathroom, reappearing moments later. “I didn’t think we’d start today,” he said, “So I didn’t bring my toys, we’ll have to use this instead of the paddle.”
He was holding one of her hairbrushes, a wooden one with a wide flat back. Irene bit her lower lip nervously. She’d almost forgotten that she’d agreed to more than just a simple over-the-knee spanking by hand. Not just the hairbrush, she reminded herself, his belt later as well. For the first time she wondered what she’d gotten herself into, why she’d ever agreed to something like this.
When Eric sat back down and ordered her back across his lap however, she eagerly took her place, not afraid, maybe a little nervous, but mostly still excited.
The wooden hairbrush felt cool against her bottom, but when Eric brought it down with a loud smack across her buttocks, she squealed loudly.
Again and again he paddled her behind with the heavy brush, the pain in her poor, throbbing bottom increasing tenfold. She squealed and moaned helplessly, once again burying her face in the couch cushions and kicking her feet. Her buttocks bouncing from the impact of the implement.
The session with the hairbrush didn’t last as long as the one with his hand, but he didn’t give her any pause either, relentlessly punishing her poor bottom until it was bright red and swollen.
“Please, I’ve had enough, I’ve learned my lesson, I promise,” she begged, but just like before those words landed on deaf ears.
Once again she wondered why she’d ever agree to something like this, cursing her ex who had set this up, cursing the deep hot arousal she still felt between her legs even now.
Then finally Eric paused, but Irene did not sigh a breath of relief. She knew it wasn’t over yet, the belt was still coming.
“Get up,” he ordered her once again.
Irene got up, grabbing her poor throbbing bottom in both hands, this time he did not stop her.
“Are you realizing how much trouble you’re in, young lady?” Eric asked after he got up as well, face-to-face, their noses almost touching, standing so close.
Irene nodded, “Yes,” she replied.
Eric nodded, “I’d like for you to call me sir, at least while you’re being disciplined.”
Irene blushed, “Yes, sir,” she replied.
“Good, remember,” Eric said, “You’re only getting half of what you deserve today. If I come back next week and your apartment looks like it did today, you’re going to be in a lot more trouble.”
Irene bit her lower lip. She wasn’t going to let that happen, she was going to keep things clean, he’d hardly have any work to do next week she promised herself. She hadn’t really agreed to anything yet of course, this was just a try-out. With how sore her poor bottom was, she would be smarter to see this as a warning and keep it just a one time thing. She’d never been very smart when it came to naughty, kinky fun however…
“Now go lay down on the couch, face-down,” Eric said, “We went over an hour, so you’re getting the belt, young lady.”
Irene nodded nervously, “Yes, sir,” she whimpered, before laying down on the couch.
She looked to the side to see Eric taking off his belt. She wondered if he always used his own for this, or if he had a special one when he brought his toys. She couldn’t deny how hot it looked when he pulled it through the loops of his trousers and then folded it in half, despite the warning twinges in her bottom.
“Eight minutes past the hour,” Eric said, “So that will be eight strokes with the belt.”
Irene gritted her teeth nervously. Eight didn’t sound like too much, she could take eight. She quickly did the math in her head for what would’ve happened if he hadn’t halved her time however. Surely she wouldn’t receive over sixty strokes for passing the two hour mark, right?
“One!” Eric called and the belt whooshed through the air, landing across her bottom with a loud crack.
Irene squealed.
“Two!” Eric called, swinging the belt again, followed by another, louder squeal.
Eight times in total, the heavy leather belt swung through the air, drawing a new thick crimson red line across her burning, trembling bottom.
All Irene could do was squeal and bury her head, listening for Eric’s voice calling out the strokes to brace herself for the next stroke.
Then finally, at eight, it was over.
“You can get up now,” Eric said.
Irene stayed down for a bit longer, just reaching back, rubbing her poor, throbbing backside, not ready yet to stand back up on her trembling legs.
After a moment she could feel the couch shifting as Eric sat down next to her. She could feel his hands on her upper thighs, gently massing the stinging red marks where the belt had partially missed her bottom. Slowly he pushed away her hands, until only his remained to soothe the pain in her backside. “Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” Irene replied, biting her tongue to make sure she didn’t moan and betray how aroused she was. She knew however, that by staying down and allowing him to caress and fondle her backside, that he’d know she was enjoying his touch. After a while, when she was afraid that she’d embarrass herself by asking for more, she pushed herself up. She winced as she sat down on the couch beside him.
“So, do you think you’re motivated enough to keep your apartment clean?” Eric asked.
Irene nodded, “Yes, sir,” she replied.
“And do you want to set a date for our next appointment?” he asked.
Irene licked her lips, she wasn’t sure yet that she wanted more of this. Right now she felt like she wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably on her poor bottom for days, and that was after he’d been lenient with her. But when she looked up at him, saw the way he was looking at her naked body, the excitement in his eyes reminded her of the excitement and arousal she felt herself. “What day is it again?” she asked.
Eric chuckled, “Tuesday,” he said.
“So next Tuesday?” she asked, “You said once a week, right?”
Eric nodded, “Next Tuesday it is. I’ll be back for some more discipline.”
Irene licked her lips, “Unless I keep the apartment clean, right?”
The man smiled, a knowing twinkle in his eye, “Of course,” he said.
Irene blushed, she knew as well as him, that it wasn’t going to be perfectly clean, not like it was right now. Perhaps it won’t be as bad as it was, but surely she was going to get some amount of punishment at least.
Eric got up off the couch, fetching his things from the kitchen table. “I’ll see you next week then?” he asked.
Irene bit her lip, surprised by how sudden their interaction was over. Yet she knew that if things went further from here, it wasn’t for more punishment, but for something else. “Until next week, sir,” she replied.
As Eric left the apartment, she looked back at her poor bottom, still blazing red. It surprised her how at the same time she was promising herself that she’d keep her apartment clean and not earn another punishment, but also felt the hunger and arousal of looking forward to more time under his control.
The end
Story inspired art
