Compromise Ch. 02

I can't believe it's been over a year since I posted the first chapter of this story ... sorry! Please look for chapter 1 if you would like to see how exactly this began. The basic summary is that Adam, who has been happily married to Brenda for six years, recently confessed to her his lifelong fantasy of domination. He has convinced Brenda to give it a try. Thanks for your constructive comments.

*****

When I woke up, it was almost midnight and I was starving. We'd ordered Chinese takeout earlier that night, but anticipation had taken over for both of us, and we hadn't finished even half of our usual order.

I rolled over and realized Brenda's half of the bed empty. I found her in the kitchen, just pulling food out of the microwave. Her hair was a tousled mess, and she had pulled on only a giant T-shirt and the panties I'd instructed she wear earlier in the evening.

"Hey," she said, offering me a bowl and chopsticks without having to ask.

If it was possible to fall in love with the same person for a second time, I'm pretty sure I experienced it.

"Thanks," I said, setting them down on the kitchen counter and pulling her in for a kiss. When I let her go again, she had a smile on her face.

"You're welcome," she said, getting out another bowl for herself. "I should've eaten more earlier. Turns out I could've used all the energy I could get."

I smiled at her lighthearted tone, but I wanted more information. "Whenever you're ready, I'd like to talk about it. But if you need to think about it more, that's fine too."

She just nodded and, still standing at the counter, put the first bite of Chinese food into her mouth. I elected to sit at one of our counter stools, but joined her.

The greasy hit of MSG was just the perk-up that I needed. I settled into the meal, but I couldn't help but watch Brenda's face to try and read her, a habit of mine that greatly annoyed her.

As she quickly let me know. "You said we could talk about it whenever I was ready," she reminded me between bites of beef chow mein.

"I know. And I meant it. Sorry," I said, trying to think about other things. But my gaze kept returning to her, and it would have even if we hadn't just had the most amazing, fantasy-fulfilling sex I could remember. I mean, she was just so goddamn beautiful, it was hardly my fault.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, but with good humor, and she walked around the counter to settle in the seat next to me. A little gingerly, I noticed, and I couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride. "Luckily for you, I think I'm ready to talk about it," she said.

"Thank God. I might not have made it through the night."

Brenda laughed. "Well?"

"That's what I was going to ask you," I said.

"Me first. What did you think?"

I supposed that was fair. "I thought it was amazing," I said immediately. "Everything went pretty much exactly how I wanted. You couldn't have been better for me if I'd dreamed you up."

Brenda smirked, but I saw she was flattered. And maybe a little relieved? Maybe she'd been nervous too? "I'm glad," she said.

"Now your turn?" I suggested.

Brenda took a moment, put a new bite of food in her mouth, chewed it thoroughly. I waited, hoping I looked patient, even though I was on the edge of my seat. As in, I thought I could easily fall off the stool if she took much longer to respond.

"I liked it," she said finally.

I let out an exhale in a huge whoosh, a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. Brenda laughed. "Mostly," she added.

"I'm glad now, too. Really, really glad," I emphasized. "Like, really, really. I tried really hard."

"I could tell, actually," she said thoughtfully, "and I wasn't really expecting that. But it seemed like you had put a lot of thought into it. And you were doing a lot of guessing what I was feeling. You were pretty good at it." She shot a look at me, then jokingly bemoaned, "Finally, an advantage to being married for six years."

"Well, there are also the tax benefits," I said, deadpan.

We laughed together. We were joking about it, but I was pretty sure our long relationship really had made a huge difference. I knew so many of her tones, her postures, the looks in her eye. Maybe if I was more experienced at the dominant side of things, I would have been able to read any woman, but I wouldn't bet on it. And Brenda had benefited, too. Even though she'd never heard about these fantasies of mine, I was pretty sure she could interpret my orders and requests more completely than I could even express them.

Which led me to a specific question. "The spanking. Was it too much?"

Brenda shifted in her stool, which set off a tiny spark in my cock as I remembered the image of her pinkened ass. "I mean, it really hurt. But I guess it wasn't too much."

"How about when I made you beg?" I saw the tiny blush rise in Brenda's cheeks, which was both adorable and sexy. More twinges to my cock. Ignore it, I told myself. "Did I wait too long? Did you know what I wanted?"

She rolled her eyes at me again. This time, it was in effort to act like my words didn't have any effect on her, but her blushes never lied. "Yeah, yeah, I knew what you wanted. You've tried to do that before, and I've never given in. But I always kind of had an inkling that you wanted ... like ..." Her words trailed off and her blush deepened. I guessed she was too embarrassed to describe it.

She was right. I'd always wanted her to beg, openly. To scream my name, to say "please" over and over again. To beg for me to stop, or to start, or whatever. I liked that feeling of control. I liked making her acknowledge it, vocally, with words like "please" and "sir."

And I'd gotten it, so I wouldn't be a dickhead by teasing her over it now. So, "Okay, good," I said. "I just didn't want you to feel like the spanking was going on too long and you didn't know how to stop it."

"I knew," she said. "But that does bring me to another point. You told me I had to ask you to blindfold me, or you might add a gag. I felt like I didn't have a choice. Because if I had a gag, there was no way I could say our safe word."

I looked at her in surprise. "Shit. I didn't even think about that. Brenda, I'm sorry."

"That's okay," she said.

"It's not. We'll work out hand signals."

"You could just never gag me," she pointed out.

I let my grin be a little wicked that time. "I don't plan to make that promise."

She bit her lip. She was having sexy thoughts again. That seemed like a good sign, so I pushed on. "Now the million dollar question. Will you do it again?"

Her lips parted. Her answer was ready, but she didn't want to seem too eager. That was okay. I didn't like playing games all the time, but every once in a while, you needed them to keep things interesting.

"Yeah, I guess," she said with a shrug.

I couldn't help but chuckle out loud. "So you liked it, but you don't want to admit it."

She tossed her hair and said primly, "I suppose there were some nice parts."

I stood up and took both our bowls to the sink. "I want to hear which were the nice parts. I want to hear you describe them. With a lot of detail."

She squirmed in her chair again. Made me think about that ass again, that beautiful shade of red I'd made it. I was half-hard now. "Maybe another time."

"Mm-hmm," I said, taking her hand to pull her off her stool. "And I want to see that ass of yours before we go back to sleep. Research purposes only."

"I bet," she said, but she was smiling. "One more question. The nipple clamps. Those things! What the fuck?" She didn't sound angry, just amazed. Maybe even a little aroused again, I could see it in her eyes.

"I know, right?!" I agreed with her, leading her back towards bed.

"How would you know?" she asked, fairly enough.

I hesitated, and then, as we climbed into bed, I told her the story—how I'd tried them on myself, a few times actually, so that I could practice tightening and loosening them. As expected, she reacted with peals of laughter.

"And that stopwatch you gave me last Christmas came in handy," I told her. "I timed myself, a bunch of times. So that I could know how long to keep them on you."

"I'm just picturing you sitting at your office with nipple clamps on under your work clothes, staring at a stopwatch," she giggled.

"Mm, and now I'm picturing you doing that," I said, running a hand up her thigh. She swatted at me playfully, but I left my hand there, toying with her smooth skin.

"So how many minutes was I wearing them, anyway?" she asked.

"I'm not telling you."

Brenda pouted. I couldn't resist adding, "But you lasted five minutes less than I did."

Her eyes widened with outrage. "What?! No fucking way! You are way wimpier than I am. I had a lot more going on, I'll have you know."

"Hm, I don't really remember," I said teasingly. "You'd better show me that pretty pink ass and remind me."

She swatted at me again, but when I caught her hand and pulled her in for a kiss, I knew from her response that just talking about it had turned her on again. Which was very good news for me. I was going to have to get started on planning our next session.

Right after this ...

***

A couple months passed, and we'd found the time to have four more sessions. We explored a little variety pack-I tied her up and gagged her one time, we played with some ice. I pushed her pain tolerance a little, but not too much, and was finding that she was always dripping wet after a spanking. In fact, Brenda enjoyed herself almost all of the time, although there were one or two things that we did that gave her pause. We'd discuss it afterwards, like we had after the first session about her safe word, and work it out.

As for me, I was in heaven. I felt invigorated. For one thing, I was finally fulfilling fantasies I'd had ever as long as I could remember. And for another, as cliche as it might sound, I felt closer to Brenda than ever. Having honest, open discussions about our sex life was actually really good for us. It might not sound romantic, but delineating what we did and didn't want gave both of us a lot of freedom when we did finally dive into a session, and opened up the experience.

Brenda had a hard list of no's that she was maintaining. We'd only discussed it verbally before that first session, but then she'd pointed out, rightfully, that if she ever changed her mind about anything, it wasn't like she'd want to come out and tell me-too much like an invitation, she explained. Plus, I knew that she had her shy moments. I could see her point, so I came up with the idea of keeping a living document on our computer, one that she could update whenever she needed to, without telling me.

Of course, I was keeping close tabs on that document. And there came the day that "Public outings" was quietly stricken from the record.

By the time our next appointment came around, I was ready.

At 6:30 on the dot on another Saturday evening, I walked over to the sink where Brenda was doing dishes, and turned off the water. She looked at me, confused for a second, before glancing at the clock. "Oh, shit, I didn't even-"

"Curses don't fall into the category of speaking respectfully, do they?"

The look Brenda's gave me turned from surprised to annoyed to resigned in the space of a second. She closed her mouth and I could almost visibly see her counting to three to calm herself. She still had trouble getting into the mood at the beginning. It wasn't a huge issue for me yet, but I didn't exactly like it either.

"No, sir," Brenda muttered. If I could guess, she'd thrown in that 'sir' because she knew she was already in trouble.

"I'll keep that in mind for later," I told her. "For now, you'll find an outfit for you on the bed. Put on some makeup, too. Oh, and please be ready in fifteen minutes."

I looked her in the eye and added, "We're going out."

Brenda bit her lip. She'd only updated her list two days ago-and now she knew just how closely I was watching it.

She just nodded, and went into the bedroom.

I stayed in the kitchen, finishing up the last of the dishes before grabbing myself a beer. In our room, Brenda would find a lacy bra and a matching thong, the highest heels she owned, and a dark blue dress that she'd tried on two weeks ago and deemed "too slutty" to buy. I had returned to the store and bought it the next day. It was tight and slid over her curves perfectly, leaving very little to the imagination, with a low-cut top and short skirt. At the time, I'd just planned to have her wear it for me in the house, but this would be much better.

While Brenda got ready, I grabbed one of her medium-sized purses and loaded it with the supplies I'd put together the night before. I wasn't sure I'd use everything, but it paid to be prepared. Then I settled back on the couch and sipped my beer.

When 6:50 rolled around and she still wasn't out of the room, my eyes narrowed.

She finally came out another five minutes later. And damn, she looked amazing. She was showing way more skin than she ever would have chosen to, the dress exposing the tops of her breasts and more than half of her smooth, toned thighs. The heels emphasized the strength of her calves and legs. And while I don't know a lot about makeup, her eyes were dark and smoky and super sexy, and she'd had on some bold lipstick that I didn't even know she owned.

"Come here," was all I said.

She came and stood by me at the couch, her eyes full of the knowledge that she looked sexy as hell. I had to guess that she was expecting me to compliment her, maybe make out with her. If we didn't have plans, that's exactly what I would have done.

Instead, I let my gaze settle on her, no smile on my face, hoping to radiate annoyance. The way her eyebrows furrowed, I think I succeeded.

"You took ten minutes longer than I asked."

She glanced at the clock as if noticing it for the first time. Actually, there is no clock in our bedroom, so maybe she really was. "Oh, Adam, fifteen minutes is really-"

"You're clearly having an issue with time management today. Bend over my lap."

Brenda flushed. "What?"

"Don't make me ask you again," I said, my words deliberate and slow.

It had to be difficult in the heels. I realized that as I watched her slowly, reluctantly lower until she was on her knees next to me. She chewed on her lip and regarded my thighs for a couple moments but didn't dare to look up at me. I didn't try to help her, just sat there, waiting.

She sighed, probably realizing that kneeling next to me was almost as embarrassing as the alternative, and crawled over my lap.

The dress was short enough and had ridden up enough that I could almost see her ass cheeks already, but I tugged it further northward so that the tiny scrap of lace covering her pussy was visible. I rested one of my palms on her ass and the other in her hair, not pulling, but holding it firmly. "Brenda, you know we had plans to go out tonight. You've already made us late for them," I lectured. "And now you're making us even later because I have to start disciplining you." She squirmed a little. "And don't misunderstand me, this will not be your whole punishment. But I'm going to start now."

I waited, wondering if she'd remember what we'd talked about last time I'd given her a spanking for punishment. She'd called me a 'motherfucker' that time, and I'd told her that whenever she was going to be punished, she would have to ask for it.

Finally, her voice came, small and miffed, although she tried to hide the annoyance. "Yes, sir, I understand," she said. "Please, ah, please spank me."

"Good girl," I said, and lifted my hand.

I let it rest in the air for a second before giving her the first smack. She yelped, more from surprise than pain, because this was not a hard spanking at all. More of a warm-up for both of us. I spanked her all over, but focused my attention on the bottom of her ass and the tops of her thighs.

I'd only had her over my knee a few times, including that time a few weeks ago when she'd called me a motherfucker. I was quickly realizing how enjoyable of a position it was. I liked how close she was, so that every time she squirmed it rubbed against my lap and my quickly rising cock. I wondered if she could feel it growing hard along her belly. I shifted my knee upward so that her ass jutted further into the air.

I only spanked her for about five minutes before resting my hand on her ass, watching as she wiggled a few moments past the end of the spanking, listening to her heavy breaths. This actually hadn't been part of my plan, but it did fit in rather well. I rubbed her pinkened cheeks idly as I wondered aloud, "You know, this is a very short dress, Brenda. When we go out, you don't think anyone will be able to see that your ass is a little pink, if they look closely, do you? It looks like I did focus a lot of my spanks awfully low."

She groaned. I was much closer to an exhibitionist than her, and the thought of someone being able to see that she'd been spanked, and even more so, her humiliation at the possibility, was thrilling to me.

"We'll finish your punishment later," I promised. "Time to go."

When she stood, I saw her eyes were a little glazed. Like I said, spanking had an amazing effect on this woman, and over time I was going to enjoy seeing how far it could go.

We took the elevator down and exited the apartment building in silence. We weren't going anywhere far or exotic-just a half-bar, half-restaurant a couple of blocks away from us, one of our standbys for great food and a fun atmosphere. I told her where we were going so that she wouldn't silently hate me for the walk in those heels, and she actually smiled.

"By the way, don't look inside your purse," I told her casually. "I put a few goodies in there, but I don't want you to see them just yet."

The look she gave me showed her curiosity, but she just said sweetly, "Yes, sir."

Lord, the woman could push my buttons. I know, it was nothing, there was nobody around or anything, but she called me "sir" outside the house. On the street. If someone was walking by, they could have heard her. She might have been doing it in an attempt to get out of her punishment later, but I didn't care. It was fucking exciting. I was definitely going to enjoy myself tonight.

When we got to the restaurant, the bar was already pretty full, but we got a table without a problem. One of our usual waiters came over almost immediately. "Anything to drink?" I thought he probably recognized us, but he didn't act like it. The place wasn't exactly known for being friendly, but the service was fast and we'd never had any complaints.

"I'll have the IPA that you have on draft," I requested. "And Brenda, how about a Blue Moon?"

"Sounds good, sir," Brenda said absently, already perusing the menu.

Then Brenda's chin jerked up, as if she was just realizing what she'd said. The waiter flicked a quick glance at her, but took it in stride and said "I'll put those right in."

By the time he had turned around to leave, Brenda was already flushing bright red, the look on her face saying it all. I, meanwhile, was fighting to keep down a broad grin.

I laid my hand on top of hers. "Hey, relax," I said.

"Easy for you to say," she shot back at me.

It sounded like her brief slip into the submissive role had paradoxically sharpened a determination to fight it. Well, I didn't want that. I stroked my thumb along her hand as I murmured, "Have I told you how fucking sexy you look yet?"

She looked the tiniest bit mollified as she returned, "No, you haven't."

I smiled at her, skimming a hand along her arm, letting my eyes drift down to her ample cleavage before returning to her face. "Well, you look beautiful," I told her. "Not only that, you look eminently fuckable. How do you feel showing off those tits for everyone?"