I leave work a bit early so I can go home and make sure everything is to Danni's standards. That's not to say I'm a slob, just that she prefers everything just so when she's in Mistress Mode. Add to that the fact that she's spent the better part of the day in court and then will have had to deal with her ex when she takes Grace back and she's going to be in a not-so-good mood.

I've just finished straightening the living room when I hear the Camaro pull into the drive. I quickly pull off my sweat pants and drop them over the back of the Barcalounger before getting on my knees and sitting back on my heels with my feet crossed under me and my hands open, palms down on my thighs near my hips. My back is as straight as if I was standing at attention and my chin is up but my eyes are lowered.

Danni once mentioned posture equipment and I wasn't sure what she meant until she showed me a video. In it a man was wearing what looked like a leather tank top that laced up the back and a small leather cervical collar. The collar kept him from lowering his chin and the tank top kept his back straight. Both looked incredibly uncomfortable so I've been doing my level best ever since to not give her a reason to use either item on me.

Several minutes pass and I realize that Danni hasn't come inside yet. While it's not uncommon for her to keep me waiting, especially when I need to be punished such as today for daring to touch her without permission and at work, after the kind of day she's had she would want to get my punishment over with so that I can service her.

I know I'm courting further punishment by not waiting but there could be something wrong. So I roll to my feet and grab my sweats off the back of the chair before exiting the house.

As I round the corner of the house I stop dead in my tracks at the sight that greets me: my beautiful, smart, strong, confident Mistress is sitting in the front seat of her car, clutching the steering wheel and sobbing like I've never seen before.

The first thought that goes through my head is that something must have happened to Grace. I rush to her side and yank the door open. "Danni! What happened? What's wrong?" Crouching down in the open door, my hands hover over her shaking body, afraid to touch lest it send her even further into this panic attack.

"Grace!" The name is torn from her throat on a wail and goose bumps appear on my arms at the anguish in that one word.

"Oh, God, Danni! What happened? Is Grace hurt?"

She shakes her head and hiccups as she tries to calm her weeping. "…took her…"

"Stan took her?" Danni nods. "Took her where? I mean, it can't be for long, she's still in school. Right?"

She shakes her head again, harder, and tries to draw in a calm breath but she's been crying hard for too long. "…can't see…"

And it clicks. I close my eyes and bite my lip to keep from cursing the man that fathered Grace. "Why'd he revoke your visitation?"

She takes a deep, yet shaky, breath and releases it slowly. "I slapped him."

Well, now, that's a surprise. "Why'd you do that?" I may want to gut the man on a near daily basis for how he treats the mother of his child but Danni has been working really hard to be civil to him for Grace's sake.

"He called me a slut."

That piece of information has me sitting hard on my ass. "What!? Why?"

Danni chews her lower lip and I have to fight the urge to lean in and chew it for her. "We were five minutes late and when Grace called you 'Uncle Steve'-" She shrugs. "-he asked if I'm spreading my legs for you, again."

Before Grace was even conceived Stan had made innuendos about how Danni got her Detective's shield; claiming she slept with her captain. He made similar comments after I recruited her for Five-Oh but after I got in his face he backed off. Apparently I need to have another talk with him. "Surprised you didn't break his nose." I would have.

"Grace was in the other room."

Sliding my left hand up her left thigh under her skirt, I settle on my knees. "What do you require of me, Mistress?" I know whatever she decides to do will hurt in the best possible way because not only will it be my punishment for this morning but it'll be Stan's for daring to suggest I hired her in exchange for sexual favors.

I can almost see the switch being flipped in her head as she picks my wrist up with two fingers as if it disgusts her and flings it away. And just like that she's no longer the grieving mother mourning not being able to see her daughter and becomes my confident, strong Mistress. "I did not give you leave to touch me, Dog." I swallow thickly as I take my first true step of the evening into subspace.

She turns in the seat and hikes up the right side of her skirt while pulling it down a bit between her legs to cover her crotch. "I do believe you have something to lick off." When I start to lean forward, she stops me with one finger to the middle of my forehead. "You will only lick that one spot." With a nod I once again go to do as ordered but she stops me, again, with a finger to my forehead. "And no teasing. Am I clear?"

"Very, Mistress." This time I wait until she nods and raises her skirt again before leaning down and running the flat of my tongue across the silky smooth skin of her upper thigh.

I used to worry about what the neighbors would think, or do think, when she has me do something like this out in the open. But then Danni showed me that humiliation can be a sexual thing and just how much better sex can be with the threat of discovery. And it also helps that my neighbors obviously couldn't care less what she and I do.

I draw patterns on her skin with my tongue, slightly surprised when she lets me. Encouraged by that, I add a hint of teeth. A sharply indrawn breath is her only acknowledgement of what I'm doing to her thigh. A quick peek up shows that she's not even watching me so I decide to see just how much I can get away with.

Sealing my lips to a patch of skin, I begin to suckle gently. She shifts slightly in her seat and it becomes clear that she's not as oblivious to what I'm doing as she'd have me think. With that in mind I turn my attentions to seeing if I can get her to climax. I meant what I said back at the office: she is incredibly responsive and it sometimes doesn't take much to set her off.

So I begin to lick and suck and lightly bite along her upper thigh where I touched her this morning and before long I'm rewarded when she begins to pant and moan. The urge to touch her is strong so I clasp my hands behind my back and bite and suck harder and finally I feel the tiny tremors in her thigh muscles that signal her approaching orgasm. At this point there's really only one thing guaranteed to shove her over that edge but it's been denied me so I press closer, using my shoulders against her knees for support as I run my tongue from the spot that now boasts a nice sized hickey to the edge of her panties. From there it's a very simple matter to turn my head and blow a concentrated stream of air directly on her crotch.

One hand lands in my hair, tugging painfully hard, and I know I accomplished my goal: I gave her an orgasm without once touching my favorite part of her body.

Her grip tightens and she uses it to push me back until she can get a foot between us and kick me back even further. "You now have an additional punishment." I know I should be concerned about the additional punishment but I'm not because I just got her off by sucking and licking and biting her thigh. "We've given your neighbors enough of a show. Now, take me inside."

Crouching in the open door, I slip my right arm under her knees and my left around her back before standing up. She loops her arms around my neck as soon as I'm upright. Walking back to the house I have to fight the urge to kiss her because it's not allowed; for whatever reason she doesn't kiss me when we're playing, except for after I've gone down on her. In the house, I set her down in the middle of the living room, then pull off my sweats and once again drop them over the back of the chair before turning my attentions to undressing her.

"Only remove my jacket, blouse and skirt." Stepping close, I slip my hands under the lapels of her jacket preparing to push it from her shoulders. She steps back. "What part of do not touch are you forgetting, Dog?"

Right. I'm not allowed to touch without permission. "Apologies, Mistress." I step close again and this time I pull the jacket off by grasping the lapels. Her blouse poses a bit more of a challenge since it's sleeveless. But it has buttons so I attack those first then pull it from where she has it tucked into her skirt before removing it. I think I'm doing a half way decent job of not touching her until I get to the removal of her skirt. There's no way to unzip it without touching.

"Mistress?" I stop to pick up her jacket and blouse. The blouse is made from silk, she has several items that are from when Stan would buy her expensive things. I love the feel of it against my skin so I rub it against my cheek, being careful to not get the delicate material caught on my stubble.

"Yes?"

"I will need to touch you to remove your skirt."

"Then you have permission to touch. But only what is necessary to finish."

"Yes, Mistress." Once her jacket and blouse have been hung up on the coat rack, I turn back to finish my task. As slowly as I can, I undo the eye-hook and lower her zipper then step back around in front of her where I kneel and tug on the hem of her skirt to pull it from her luscious hips.

I keep my eyes trained on her navel as the material is slowly lowered. Once it's pooling at her feet I allow my gaze to wander to the panties she's wearing. They're black silk with an ivory lace overlay, a tiny black bow in the middle of the waistband and they sit low on her hips, showing off her curves to perfection and hiding the scar from the C-section she had to deliver Grace. The matching bra is what she calls a demi-cup, all I know is the cups barely contain her breasts, and has a bow in the center between the cups and on the straps.

She steps out of the pool of her skirt and kicks it up just slightly. I catch it automatically and stand to hang it with the rest of her clothes.

"Now, go stand in the corner like the bad boy you are."

I stand at attention for a second, then spin on my heel and march to the corner catty-corner to where she's standing. I can feel her gaze on my naked back and wish she'd touch me. It's been almost two weeks since we've been intimate due to having cases that haven't wrapped quickly enough for us to get the weekend off. This is going to be a very long weekend if she doesn't plan on touching me except to keep me from touching her.

As attuned to her very presence as I am, I'm aware of her walking over to stand directly behind me even though her footsteps are muffled by the thick area rug covering the hard wood floor.

"I'm hungry." She touches the tip of one finger extremely lightly against my back between my shoulder blades. "Did you buy groceries like I told you?"

"Yes, Mistress." And I did: last night instead of three days ago when she gave me the list.

"Hm," she hums and runs her finger lightly down my spine before walking away and into the kitchen.

I can hear the click of her heels on the tile in the kitchen and track her movements as she fixes something to eat. She didn't ask me if I was hungry because it doesn't matter if I am or not. If she wants me to eat, I'll eat. Otherwise, I've been instructed to always make sure I've eaten before we play.

I didn't sleep much last night, anticipation of this weekend has me on edge, and so I doze a bit. How to sleep without actually sleeping and while standing up is something I learned quickly in the SEALs. Just as I feel the pull into true slumber I hear her call for me.

Because she's decided to let me eat, thankfully since my last meal was nearly four hours ago, I drop to all fours and crawl into the kitchen like a dog. She doesn't require me to crawl often but when we're playing and she feeds me, I'm to crawl since my name is 'Dog'. Shortly after we first started sleeping together, she found out that my call sign is 'Smooth Dog' and so when we began playing she dropped the 'Smooth' and started calling me 'Dog'. It feeds my humiliation needs quite well.

In the kitchen I find her sitting at the table with her back to the door, eating, and a plate of mac-n-cheese on the floor at her feet. There hasn't been enough time since she left me standing in the living room and when she called me to come eat for her to have made it from scratch which means it's from a box. I can't stand that over processed junk but she keeps it for when we need a quick meal, and when Grace is here because Grace loves the stuff. Of course she loves her mother's homemade version too but there's something about it being from a box that the girl really likes.

Swallowing my sigh, not that she won't know I hesitated, I begin to eat. I have to finish before her and she's not a slow eater so I practically swallow it whole. The second my plate is empty she says, "Take your dishes to the sink and return to your corner; this time on your knees."

I take a couple swallows of the water in the bowl next to my plate before standing and carrying both to the sink where I dump out the water. On my way out of the kitchen I notice that she's barely touched her food. I want to ask, to comfort her, but that's not allowed so I push my concern down until she releases me from this scene and I can be the loving boyfriend again.

On my knees in the corner, I once again slip into a light sleep, knowing that I'll be better able to give her what she needs if I'm refreshed.

Her panties landing on my right shoulder startle me slightly and I feel guilty that I must have actually fallen asleep.

"Apologies, Mistress."

"For what?" Crap. She either wasn't aware I'd fallen asleep or she's trying to force me into confessing.

"For not buying the groceries right when you told me to." I hold my breath waiting for her reaction; not sure if I want her to call me out on falling asleep or not.

"Huh. I figured you'd drag your feet. Don't do it again."

Relief washes over me when she doesn't tack on yet another punishment at my confession."Yes, Mistress."

"Hm," she hums, moving to stand in front of the hidden cabinet we keep the adult videos in. "What do I want to watch?"

Knowing she's watching porn and most likely masturbating where I can't watch, or participate, is something I hate; and she knows it. Which I guess is what makes it such an effective punishment.

"Ah, here we go." She chuckles evilly and I know this is gonna be bad. "Shagging Private Ryan. A favorite, isn't it, Dog?"

"Yes, Mistress." The porno she chose is a guy on guy military 'film' based on the Tom Hanks movie Saving Private Ryan and the guy playing Private Ryan looks a lot like Matt Damon which is why it's her favorite.

She laughs some more and my dick twitches but since I'm not allowed to get hard, or touch myself to prevent it, I think about how her ex treats her and my arousal disappears. "Oh, this is gonna be so fucking good."

I hear the springs in the chair as she sits down and then the buzz of her vibrator. I can picture exactly what she's doing and which vibrator she's more than likely using. About three months ago she bought a make your own dildo kit. We spent the better part of a weekend molding several out of my cock. One of them is the vibrator that she's most likely using right now and is the one she loves to use when she's in a mood like she is today. She's even been known to use it on her clit while I fuck her. I'm just waiting for the day she inserts it into her pussy and has me fuck her ass.

Soon the room echoes with moans from her and the TV and while the ones from the TV are probably fake, or mostly fake, hers have taken on a frustrated tone. It's like she's too stressed to climax. I know I can help her with that but letting me help would be more of a reward than a punishment.

Just as the actors on the screen achieve their final orgasms the sound of the vibrator shuts off. "Dog, come here."

I turn on my knees and am momentarily frozen in place at the sight of her sitting in the chair with her legs draped over the arms giving me an excellent view of one of my most favorite parts of her body.

Danni isn't overly vain about her body, she knows she's curvier than most women in Hawai'i and it only bothers her when she's wearing a swimsuit. I've tried telling her that I prefer my women with curves like hers but she doesn't really believe me.

Even though she doesn't really care all that much, she hates the look of hair on her legs, too much time as a gymnast I think, but she also hates to shave so she waxes everything every six weeks. Well, everything except for a small triangle of curly hair on her pubic mound; just enough to remind anyone lucky enough to see her naked that she's a woman full grown; if the full breasts aren't enough, that is.

"Do I have to repeat myself?"

I know better than to keep her waiting. The first time she ever had to punish me was because I didn't obey quick enough. "No, Mistress." I crawl on my knees over to where she's sitting and get comfortable between her wide spread legs. Her panties slither silkily off my shoulder when I settle into the proper position.

"Make it good and I just might remove one of your punishments."

I know she won't no matter how good I make it for her. Or rather she just might but I'll break another rule or disobey again and she'll add the punishment right back. Running my nose along her inner thigh from her knee to the bruise I left earlier, I inhale her scent which never fails to make my dick twitch in interest whether or not I'm allowed to get hard. I place a chaste kiss on my mark, then run the flat of my tongue from my hickey to my ultimate goal.

She's riding the edge of orgasm pretty high and gasps at the first touch of my tongue to her labia. The only time I'm allowed to touch her without asking for permission is when I'm going down on her, so I slide my arms under her thighs and use my fingers to hold her open for my questing tongue. Her fingers slide into my hair and grip the back of my head. I can tell she's trying to just enjoy the ride I'm giving her but she's never been very good at giving up any kind of control, especially during sex.

With the thumb and forefinger of my left hand, I pull the folds of skin back to expose her clit and fuck her with three fingers of my right hand while sucking on that wonderful little bundle of nerves. She comes apart in my arms with a shout, pressing my face tighter against her.

Eventually her body stops shaking and she releases her hold on my head with a gentle caress to my hair.

"Take me upstairs." Her voice is soft and quiet like it is when we're having sex as equals, not that we do it that way much anymore, but it tugs at something deep inside me; something I don't have time to examine right now.

Rolling from my knees into a crouch, I pick her up just like I did from the car and carry her upstairs where I drop her in the middle of the bed. She places her feet, still in her heels, on the edge of the mattress and wiggles until her butt is just half an inch from the edge.

Grabbing a condom from the bedside table drawer, I quickly roll it on before placing my hands under her ass and lifting until I can enter her in one smooth thrust.

She gasps at the force on my penetration and throws her head back in a silent demand for more. I learned quickly that when she's like this it had better be hard and fast and as rough as I can make it. I use my thrusts to move her back on the bed until I have enough room to kneel between her legs on the edge, then I lean over her and fuck her like I've never fucked her before.

Danni can sometimes come just from being fucked and I'm hoping this is one of those times because I don't want to be distracted from the look in her eyes. Even though we've been sleeping together for eighteen months now, and playing for almost as long, we've never really talked about anything. I know she cares for me, she wouldn't have given me her Dominance if she didn't, but I don't know if she feels for me what I feel for her. In other words, I don't know if she loves me or not. But staring into her eyes right now I can almost make myself believe she does.

I start giving a hard wiggle at the end of each in stroke, doing my best to stimulate her clit like she likes, and after a dozen or so thrusts, it pays off with her climaxing for the third time in as many hours.

Since I haven't been given permission to come, I pull out, making sure the condom doesn't fall off. I carefully remove it while walking to the bathroom. In the bathroom, I wrap the condom in toilet paper before tossing it in the trash, then squeeze the base of my cock to make my erection go down. It takes longer than I like but after several minutes it deflates enough for me to take a piss.

That taken care of, I wet a washcloth and go back into the bedroom to find her still lying right where I left her: sprawled on her back in the middle of the bed with her legs splayed open wantonly. Bruises are starting to form on her inner thighs, in amongst the beard burn, from where my hip bones pressed against her tender skin and her hair is falling out of the careful knot she put it in for court. It all makes me want to dive right back in. I take a moment to just stare at the woman I'm falling head over heels for. Fuck that. I'm not falling for her; I've already fallen and damn if it wasn't a spectacular fall.

Placing one knee on the edge of the bed I lean down and inhale deeply the scent of sex that clings to her. I want nothing so much as to touch the tip of my tongue to the wet curls between her legs but it's not allowed (very little is during a scene) so I do the next best thing: I gently clean her up. Once done, I toss the washcloth in the direction of the bathroom where it lands with a wet splat on the floor.

Danni gives me a small smile and starts to move over to her side of the bed. I grab one ankle and drag her back to the edge of the bed. I can see she's starting to get upset at my touching without permission but I ignore it in favor of making her comfortable.

Placing a chaste kiss to the instep of the foot I'm holding I take my time unbuckling her shoe and dropping it on the floor. I repeat everything with her other foot. Setting her foot down gently on the bed, I start to climb in with her. Before I get more than one knee placed, she pushes herself into a sitting position and scoots close enough to press a kiss to my sternum. Wrapping one hand around the back of my neck she looks me in the eye. "You know I love you, right?"

I swallow thickly. While we have been together for eighteen months now, this is the first time either of us has said those words. I can't speak around the lump in my throat so I just nod, even though I didn't know until right now.

She gives me a shy smile before twisting around and walking on her knees to her side of the bed while removing her bra. She tosses it at me and I just bat it out of the air and then climb on the bed in time to bury my fingers in her hair and help her remove the pins. Once the luscious locks are free of their confinement, I lift them to my nose and inhale deeply. I love the smell of her shampoo; it makes me think of a garden full of wild flowers.

Danni shoulders me back and turns to lie down, holding one arm out. "We'll sleep then continue with your punishment."

I was hoping she had decided against that, even though I know better. I curl along her side with my head pillowed on her right breast. We lie there for several minutes in companionable silence with her stroking my hair.

Eventually I can't take it any longer and turn my head to rest my chin on her plump breast so I can see her face. "Mistress."

Her eyes had been closed but she opens them to stare at the ceiling. "I have yet to release you, Dog. We both need some sleep."

I'm not going to be allowed to comfort her until she's good and ready; I just hope it doesn't take her too much longer. This all started with me just doing things for her: driving her around, paying for her meals, opening doors and running errands. I've also been her shoulder to cry on and Stan's whipping boy ever since we met and not being able to comfort her now is just about killing me.

I wait until her breathing evens out, signaling her surrender to sleep and then I slip as quietly as I can from the bed. Grabbing a t-shirt on my way out of the room, I pull the door mostly closed before tip-toeing down the stairs taking care to skip the ones that squeak.

In the living room, I pull on my sweats and tug my shirt on over my head before slipping my feet into my slippers. Turning the lock slowly to make sure it doesn't make too much noise I then begin looking for my keys. When I don't see them in the bowl on the table by the door, I frown in confusion. I know I dropped them there because they bounced out and I had to pick them up.

Thinking I might be mistaken, I search the whole ground floor but don't find them anywhere. Scratching my head, I return to the living room and decide to just take the Camaro; if I can only find Danni's keys…

"Looking for something, Dog?" Hitting the light switch, I turn to find her standing in the middle of the stairs wearing one of my Navy t-shirts with my key ring balanced on the end of one elegant finger.

"Mistress,-" I start to explain but she doesn't let me.

"You just can't leave well enough alone, can you?" She marches down the stairs and throws my keys at the table. "Strip and assume the position."

I press my lips together and stand up straight. "Mistress, please."

Her hand whips out and grabs my left ear, not enough to cause any real damage but enough to bring me to my knees. "I seem to remember giving you an order about sleep but since you've decided you don't need sleep I guess it's time to get to your punishment. Now-" She lets go of my ear and stands up. "-do I have to repeat myself again?"

I try and rub the sting from my ear and shake my head while getting to my feet. "No, Mistress."

"Then go!" She points in the direction of the dining room and stomps her foot.

Pulling my clothes off, I make my way into the dining room where I pull a chair out from the table. Since I'm so much bigger than her, it's too uncomfortable for her to put me over her knee so we decided to have me lean over the back of one of the dining table chairs, gripping the edge of the seat.

"Twenty strikes for thinking you have the right to touch me anytime you want." She doesn't need my permission or approval but I nod my head anyway.

Usually she touches me before spanking me, just to steady me before she begins but not this time. And that's all I need to know about her current frame of mind. Even so, I'm wholly unprepared for the spanking I get. She doesn't let up until I've received all twenty strikes and by the time she's done my ass is on fire. Sitting it gonna be near impossible for days.

She drops the paddle on the table in front of me. "Come."

I stand up and hiss at the pull of the abused skin of my ass when I go to take a step. She doesn't usually let her emotions rule when giving a punishment because that's the surest way to do serious damage but I guess whatever tender mood she was in when I fucked her is gone, ruined by my trying to sneak out to deal with Stan.

In the living room I find her standing next to the recliner. "On all fours, here-" She points at a spot on the floor in front of the chair. "-head facing the couch."

I get into the position, fairly sure what she's going to do. When she sits down in the chair and props her feet on my back, I'm proved right.

Danni settles into the chair and turns on the TV. She flips through channels; not staying on any one channel for more than a couple of minutes. I know what she's trying to do but I refuse to feel guilty for trying to help her; it is part of my job as not only her boyfriend but also her submissive.

It's not until Danni has made three rounds through the channels that the tension leaves my shoulders and my head drops down between my arms; all fight leaving me on a sigh.

She removes her feet from my back and stands. "Come."

Back in the dining room, I find her standing rigidly with her back to the door and tapping the paddle against her thigh. It's that little tick that lets me know she's not happy about having to punish me. I want to reassure her with a touch but, once again, it's forbidden to me until she releases me from the scene. So I do the next best thing: I resume my position over the back of the chair and offer up my ass for her to spank.

"Fifteen strikes for humiliating me in open court."

I had heard about that. The linen of her skirt kept catching in the drying vaginal fluid I smeared on her thigh and since she was on the witness stand she couldn't reach under her skirt to scratch at it so she squirmed a bit. The defense lawyer insinuated that she was suffering from 'feminine itch'.

She takes her time with this spanking; alternating between my cheeks and down to my thighs. The last one lands on both cheeks and instead of lifting the paddle, she holds it there against my burning ass before rubbing it in a circle, pressing down harder with each pass. It's something she does when she spanks me for pleasure and for her to do it in conjunction with a punishment has me confused.

But then the paddle lands on the table in front of me and she's barking, "Come" before I hear the heels of her feet striking the hard wood flooring as she marches back into the living room.

Walking is getting more painful with each spanking and I can only hope she's nearly done. It may be our weekend off, and without Grace, but that doesn't mean I won't be required to walk.

In the living room I find her standing next to the chair, all her weight settled on one hip and her arms crossed under her breasts. I can't help but stare at how they push out the material of my shirt and wish for just a moment that I could wrap her waist length hair around my hand and pull her in for kiss. Or pick her up and carry her to the couch where I could cover her body with mine and remind her that not every man in the world is an asshole like Stan.

"Same position as before."

I settle on my hands and knees, fully expecting her to use me as a footstool again. But she manages to surprise me by stepping over me and sitting down on my back. Oh, God! She didn't put on any panties. My breath catches in my throat as I realize that she spanked me while wearing nothing but my t-shirt because the panties she was wearing earlier are still lying on the floor under my left hand.

"Might as well enjoy it. You might not get this close to it again for a long time."

I bite back a whine because I know that she can go longer than I can without sex. Not that it'd be that big a deal, except that I know if she decides to take sex away then I won't be allowed to jerk off until she's ready to let me fuck her again.

A rebellious part of me that I thought had been killed by BUD/s training surfaces and goads me into getting some back on her. She's obviously using this like she does my being put in the corner: I'm supposed to be 'thinking' about why I'm being punished.

I have no idea exactly how to go about getting back on her until she finds a channel playing one of her favorite movies. It takes me a few minutes to realize it's White Nights and from what I can tell it just started so I bide my time. She's forced me to watch it enough that I know which part is her favorite: when Mikhail Baryshnikov's character sneaks out of his studio and into the one with the little girl dancers.

Just as that scene begins, I let all the tension in my body go and sag a bit as if I have finally given into her Dominance. She shifts and I know she's glaring down at my head, trying to figure out if I'm playing her or not. Never one to ignore when a punishment needs to be completed, she turns off the TV and sets the remote down heavily on the coffee table.

"Come," she snaps and I know I got to her.

A small smirk crosses my face at the knowledge that I got away with this small defiance. In the dining room, I take my place over the chair, wiggling my butt a little.

She picks the paddle up and lightly taps me on the top of the head with it. "Ten strikes for the two unrequested orgasms."

"You were stressed! I was just trying to help." I stand up in order to plead my case properly.

"Did I ask for your explanation? It was your suggestion for the no touching at work rule."

"And I do believe I only touched that one spot, just as ordered."

"I believe my exact instructions were to lick that spot."

"And I did!"

Her eyes narrow on my face and she steps in closer until our toes are touching, then she goes up on her tip-toes to get in my face. "Licking isn't all you did. I never gave you permission to bite or suck and I certainly didn't give you permission to give me an orgasm!"

"You also didn't tell me to stop." The deep breath she takes along with the thinning of her lips tells me I'm close to overstepping myself.

"You were given exact instructions. You deviated from those instructions." She pokes me in the shoulder with the edge of the paddle. "You now have ten more strikes: five for arguing and five for thinking you could play me."

"What?"

She snorts. "You really think I don't know what you did in there? It would serve you right if I forced you back into the living room to watch it from the beginning with the added commentary."

"I never said I didn't like that movie."

Her smile can only be described as evil. "You didn't say you liked it either."

I just barely refrain from rolling my eyes. "Apologies, Mistress." I turn and resume my position over the chair, waiting for her to continue with my punishment.

"But you're right. I didn't stop you. However,-" She holds up one finger when I open my mouth to gloat. "-you knew you shouldn't have done it. Correct?"

I hang my head in guilt. "Yes, Mistress."

"And that is why you are going to take these final strikes like the good dog you are."

"Yes, Mistress."

Twenty more strikes will be incredibly difficult for me after the thirty-five I've already taken. But I'll take them because it's what my Mistress requires of me.

If not for the sound of the paddle slicing through the air, I wouldn't know she had started spanking me again; so either she's going easy one me, highly unlikely, or my ass is numb. I'm leaning toward the second one.

After five strikes, I shift just as she brings her arm down and she ends up hitting my outter thigh/hip area. My breath escapes on a sharp hiss at the sting. It's obviously enough to let her know that spanking my ass isn't working this time because each strike after that one hits my outter thigh or hip.

By the time she stops, my legs are quivering and tears well in my eyes at the thought of walking back into the living room, much less kneeling again.

The paddle lands on the table with a clatter, she must have thrown it down, and she orders me to follow her with a curt 'come'. My legs feel like lead when I turn to follow her. The last time I felt this way was during water training during BUD/s.

In the living room, I once again get on all fours in front of the chair. When she sits down she rubs the ball of her right foot against the abused skin of my left thigh and ass cheek. She drapes her left leg over the arm of the chair; this position leaves her open and I can see everything without even turning my head.

She turns the porno from earlier back on and skips to her favorite scenes while absently fingering herself. I really hate when she does this because I feel that sex, or the lack thereof, should never be used as a punishment. We've had numerous arguments about her withholding sex or forcing me to watch while she masturbates or even jerking or blowing me while not allowing me to come as a way of punishing me.

After several minutes she turns the TV off and removes her foot from my back. She nudges my hip with her toe. "Go get your whip."

I roll to my feet and walk down the hall to the utility room where a false wall hides the door to our playroom. When it became obvious we need a place to play I contacted a contractor who specializes in playrooms and hired him to build us one. Luckily there's a copse of trees between the garage and the house that is big enough to hide a small addition to the house.

Danni stocked the room with all manner of toys and equipment but we have yet to use anything other than the horse and St Andrews Cross.

Stepping into the room is exactly how I imagine it feels to walk on marshmallows. Danni said she wanted to make sure it was comfortable for me to kneel for extended periods of time and for when she wants me to fuck her on the floor.

Opposite the door is the cabinet we keep the whips and floggers in. I cross to it and remove the wicked looking bullwhip I gave her for our one year anniversary. I quickly wipe it down, it's been so long since we've used it that it has grown a thick layer of dust, then kneel in the middle of the floor facing the door with the whip curled on my upraised hands as if it's an offering along with my submission.