The ironing board gently squeaked as Dan folded it away. As he picked up the freshly ironed shirts, he sniffed them. He loved the smell of clean laundry, it smelled like a job well done. He moved to hang the shirts up, the crisp dress shirts on his side of the walk-in closet, and the dresses on Octavia's side. He leaned against the door for a moment, wondering whether he would still have time to turn down the bed before she would come home. The curtains in the bedroom were closed, Octavia liked it that way, daylight seeping in through gaps at the edges. It gave the whole room a soft, padded feeling of being safely hidden away from the world under a blanket.

The copper bell rang in the hall and Dan immediately felt his cock twitch. The idea that Octavia was training him to get excited whenever she came home was a happy thought that bounced through his head as he went down the stairs to greet her. She stood in the doorway shaking her umbrella before putting it down on the porch. She came inside and closed the door with a tired sigh.

"Shall I take your coat, My Lady?" Dan helped her take the raincoat off and hung it away, as she hung up her hat and tried to fix her hair in the mirror. "Would you like me to take off your shoes as well?" 

When she nodded and quietly stood there as he kneeled down to take her shoes off and kiss her feet, he knew for sure something was off about her mood. So when he rose to his feet again, he asked her: "Is there anything else I can do for you, My Lady?"

She touched her face in a thinking gesture for a moment, taking a long breath. And then she said: "I'm sorry, Dan. Today was long and tiring and I'm disappointed." 

He stepped in and they shared a long, loving hug. She buried her face in his neck and her hands thoughtlessly groped and clawed and squeezed him.

"I could be your whipping boy." Dan whispered, blushing.

Octavia let go of him and gave him a long look. "You would let me take it out on you?"

He nodded and mumbled: "Violence is a love language we both need sometimes."

She nodded too. She took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders and then grabbed him by the back of the neck to steer him towards the dungeon. "Move!"

Excitement fluttered in Dan's stomach as he went down the hall to the basement stairs, enjoying the way her claws dug into his skin. When they arrived at the bottom of the stairs, she shoved him forward into the dungeon.

"Bring out the kneeling bench and select a paddle." She ordered without making eye-contact. 

He nodded and he dashed off to the right side of the room to set the kneeling bench down and peruse the rack of impact implements. Meanwhile she went off to the left where she shed her clothes on the floor and pulled on a silk robe with an elaborate autumn leaves pattern. She retrieved a pair of comfortable slippers from under the bed and then made her way over to the bench. Dan brought her a smooth, wooden paddle and she nodded as if she approved of his choice as she took it from him. Then she grabbed his chin.

"Look at me, boy." Her voice was low and compelling. "Surrender to my power."

His eyes opened wider into an enraptured stare. His arms fell limply to his sides and his mouth sagged open and he automatically uttered: "I surrender, My Lady."

She took a deep breath, savouring this moment before she continued. "Your mind is so obedient to me, you are so well-trained, my beloved. I don't need to say anything in particular to make you surrender and obey and enjoy what I do to you. The words I say are not important, because you are such a good thrall, you don't need any specific words to obey me. The words are not important. Say it."

"The words are not important." He replied in a breathy whisper.

"This is an act of service on your part. You do this for me. You obey. And the words are not important." Her hand moved from his chin, stroking from his jaw all the way to the back of his head where it grabbed his hair firmly. "You may find yourself sinking deeper down into such an obedient space that the words I say don't even make sense to you anymore. As if what I'm saying doesn't apply to you. And that's just fine because the words are not important."

"The words are not important." The answer was automatic, Dan was gone and only an obedient drone was left now.

"You will kneel down for me and take this beating. You focus on how this makes you feel and you'll find it's easy to give me feedback about how it feels to you. You do all of this and you disregard what I say because the words are not important."

"The words are not important." He droned.

Still holding him by the hair, she forcefully turned him around and pushed his face down towards the bench. He groaned as he folded himself over the bench, his knees on the cushioned foot and his hands grabbing onto the bench as if he was hugging it. She unceremoniously yanked his pants down to expose his soft, round buttocks. With the paddle loosely in her hand, she stroked his butt for a moment and then started to softly and rhythmically slap it as a warm up.

Dan kneeled motionless, his eyes closed as his elbows pressed down on the top cushion, as if in prayer. Octavia's free hand rested on his lower back. She bent over in order to hit him, her eyes narrowed in concentration and her lips moving, muttering to herself.

"I wish you could just handle any kind of obstacle in your life without needing to come knocking on my door in a drunken haze..." The slaps became slower and harder and it ended in a firm, resounding hit. "...for just fucking once."

He moaned and shifted after that last one, a noise and movement that looked and felt as if he was enjoying something rough and sexy. He was oblivious to her words.

She repositioned herself, stretching her arm in the air to make the hits wider and harder and slower. And she continued to talk to herself between hits. "I really shouldn't be enabling your bad behaviour. But you give me no choice, do you?"

He quivered for a moment after the first hard impact, holding in a stifled moan. He shifted on the stool and braced himself for the next one. After a few hits of clamping down like that, he opened his mouth to blow out the breath he had been holding. Which meant that the next hit caused a deep, gutteral grunt. He shook after the hit, trying to steady himself before the next one, failing with another grunt. His breathing quickened to keep up with the pain.

It was not that Octavia didn't notice his squirming, but more that she knew him so well after their years together, she knew the rhythm of their intimacy so well and it was not time yet to slow down. But she was also a little caught up in her own feelings. "I don't know why I even spend my time and energy trying to help you. It's not like you're going to fucking stop drinking and actually deal with your shit."

He gasped. It was very hard to remain still despite the bench leaving him precious little wiggle room between the thick cushions and the polished wood. His buttocks were turning hot and red and his legs were trembling. It was exhilarating, his erection was just as uncomfortably pressed against the bench as his legs were. It was exactly what he wanted when he asked to be her whipping boy, but it was going too hard, too fast, and that made him worry about her. He took a deep breath and held it, in an effort to break her spell and listen to her.

"And I'm just making it worse, rewarding you every time you show up on my doorstep. I should have never indulged in this unhealthy relationship." Her voice was raw with emotion and the effort of wielding the paddle made her shoulder ache. Her hits were becoming imprecise and her vision was blurry with tears. "But I'm too soft to do what's necessary and break up with you!" And that last swing landed below the hot, red skin of his buttocks, against his inner thighs.

He yelped, jolting against the bench making it shove forward. Shocked, she took a step back. She rubbed out her eyes and tried to clear her throat, but it made a sobbing sound. He immediately got up from the bench and caught her in a hug. The paddle fell to the floor and she cried softly on his shoulder.

"Oh, love… I'm so sorry."

"No, My Lady. Don't worry about it." He shushed her and hugged her tightly.

"Now I'm hurting you as well. I'm just so worthless." Her voice broke.

He guided her to the bed. "You're not worthless! Please don't say that. You don't believe that. Please, my Lady. Let me take care of you. Let me worship you." He sat her down and stroked back and her shoulders.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded. "Yes please, my beloved." She opened up the robe and laid back on the bed.

Dan quickly shed his clothes on the floor and then crawled on the bed. He kissed her feet and then slowly started to make his way up her legs, worshipping every part of her body, telling her how much joy she brings him every day, expressing his passion for her with caresses and kisses. Their lovemaking that night was sweet and romantic, with a seemingly endless stream of "I love you".