Mayor's Discipline: Two Domestic Discipline Short Stories

by Renee Rose

  She went for the shrimp enchiladas, a New Mexican favorite, served with salsa verde, her favorite.

  She told her friend briefly about getting broken into, and then hooking up with the mayor, but she left out the spanking part.

  “Well, I think it sounds exciting!” Skye said when she’d finished the story. “Why don’t you want to date him?”

  She flushed. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I mean, he’s the mayor.”

  “So?”

  “So...well, I don’t know. I think it was just about sex, anyway. I mean, we’d never even had a date, and then bam—we hooked up. I don’t even think he wants to date me.”

  Although, that wasn’t necessarily true. He’d invited her to his cabin in the ski valley to discuss their relationship.

  “You know what I think?” Skye challenged.

  “What?”

  “You’re scared. Everything you’ve said so far sounds like an excuse. Do you think he’s too good for you or something?”

  She shrugged. Partly. And maybe she was embarrassed about the spanking thing. So embarrassed she wanted to erase the whole scene, even though it would probably provide fantasy fodder for the rest of her life.

  “I don’t know.” She downed her margarita. “Let’s talk about something else. How’s your love life?”

  “It sucks,” Skye said flatly. Claire listened to her friend's lamentations about the dating scene in Taos. “The thing is, the list of eligible men is so short that by the time you reach the bottom, there's nothing else to do but start back up with the first guy again!”

  Claire laughed in commiseration. “That’s true.”

  “All I want is a man who works a decent job he enjoys, instead of a ski bum or hippie slacker. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Apparently.” Claire’s mind flitted unbidden to Luis and his very important job running their town.

  “And I really like an alpha man, you know?” Skye said. “Which cuts out most hippies, anyway.”

  “I like an alpha man too,” she muttered, her body prickling with the memory of being bent over Luis's hard thighs as he spanked her to tears with her hairbrush. How long had she been waiting for a man like Luis to walk into her life? A man who knew how to dominate, and who did so out of charismatic confidence, rather than sexism. She shifted in her seat, wanting to feel the residual soreness, lamenting the fact it had almost already faded.

  She drove slowly home after the meal, Skye’s words rolling over and over in her mind. Maybe she was just scared. Did she want to throw away a shot at something good just because she was embarrassed and scared? She pulled up to her casita and stared at the new door. A curious mixture of longing and anxiety twisted in her stomach. Perhaps she'd made a mistake.

  It was 8:30 p.m. Far past the time Luis had set for their proposed date. Would he still be there? She turned on her cell phone, but remembered she didn't have his number programmed. It was inside, in her client files. Should she call? But what would she say? Maybe it would be better to just drive up and surprise him? If he was still there…

  Feeling itchy for any kind of resolution to the way she was feeling, she threw the car back into drive and pulled out, heading for the ski valley. She had no overnight bag, no phone number for Luis, only the note he'd left with the address. It would have to do. It was a forty-five minute drive up the mountain and she refused to think about anything at all, choosing to sing loudly to the radio, instead.

  She found his place without a problem—it turned out he owned a unit in the most popular ski condo on the mountain. She stepped out of the car and shivered. She wore only a light sweater over her tank top, and the mountain air had a chill to it. In the sky, the slivered moon was highlighted by the majestic arc of the Milky Way, making her grateful, as always, to be out in the wild after her years in New York City. She took a deep breath and marched up the steps to Luis's condo. She rapped on the door, then froze.

  Was that a female voice she heard inside? Oh God. She'd been right about him after all—he was a man whore. She hadn't shown up for their date, so he'd found someone else. And as sexy and powerful as Mayor Luis Valdez was, he wouldn't have to look far for a playmate.

  Gathering her wits, she turned and made to retreat, but was too late. The door swung open and Mayor Valdez loomed in the doorframe, his eyebrows raised in what appeared to be disapproval.

  ~.~

  “Claire.”

  He'd been resigned to the idea she was not coming. Deeply disappointed, but resigned. Now, he had to catch his breath as he took her in: fitted purple tank with a thin sweater over the top, a jean skirt and cowgirl boots. Her gold hoop earrings swayed as she tossed a strand of hair out of her eyes. She had on her Miss Independent persona, which expanded far beyond her petite frame. She lifted her chin and gazed past him into the condo. “Am I disturbing you?” she demanded.

  Perplexed but amused at the attitude, he held the door open wide and ushered her in. “Not at all, I was just watching TV.”

  She looked around, her eyes falling on the television he'd been watching. “Oh,” she muttered.

  “Did you think I was having a party here without you?”

  The defiant look on her face faded and a blush crept onto her cheeks. Seeing the tinge of pink made him think about the color of her ass the night before.

  “Are you here for your spanking?” he asked in a low voice.

  Her eyes flickered and she bit her lip. She shook her head. “Actually…I just want to… talk.”

  Talk. He found himself curiously excited to hear that, though it went against every cliché about men and relationships. That they had something important to discuss between them was satisfying to him on some level. He suddenly found he wanted to know everything that mattered to her, hoped he had the chance to tell her some random detail of his life. He turned off the TV, and hit the button to turn on the gas fireplace, motioning to the two overstuffed swivel chairs in front of it.

  She kicked off her boots and dropped into one of the chairs, drawing her legs up underneath her with a feline grace. She picked at the hem of her skirt for a moment.

  “Luis...” Her voice sounded shaky.

  If she hadn't driven all the way up there, he'd think she was breaking things off. As it was, he felt sympathy for her difficulty in speaking.

  “Tell me, cariño,” he said gently. Her eyes flashed to his, surprised at the endearment. He held her gaze, letting the warmth he felt for her show. She relaxed and smiled faintly.

  “I'm sorry I didn't come earlier—I hadn't planned on coming at all. This is all just going too fast for me—we hardly know each other, and I'm not sure we want the same things. I just think we need some clarity before we go on.”

  He nodded encouragingly. “Vale.”

  “I mean, you don't even know that I don't speak Spanish!” she exclaimed.

  He laughed. “You're right, I didn't. I'm sorry—I should not have assumed. But you understand me, don't you?”

  She nodded.

  “Okay, we got that one figured out. What else?”

  She looked at her hem again, pulling at the threads with trembling fingers. “About the spanking…” she said in a small voice.

  He waited.

  “What I was trying to explain is that…I'm not into erotic spanking.”

  He choked back a burst of laughter, making a strangled sort of sound. “What?” he managed.

  Her face turned a deep red, but she looked at him with a stubborn expression. “It's not funny. I'm not. I don't want to be spanked for fun.” She studied her skirt again. “I only want to be spanked when —” her voice had grown so small he had to strain his ears to hear. She untucked her legs and swiveled her feet to the other side. “—when I'm bad.” Her voice was tiny. She didn't lift her eyes as she studiously massaged her baby toe.

  He made his face perfectly blank. “Well, you have been bad,” he said seriously.

  Her eyes shot to his, brows drawn together, as if worried he hadn't unde
rstood.

  “But I think I understand what you're telling me. You're into domestic discipline, not BDSM.”

  She looked relieved. “Yes!”

  “But you can't tell me it doesn't turn you on. DD is still a kink.”

  A fresh blush spread across her chest and she didn't answer for a moment. “I'm not into pain. I mean—the idea of being spanked turns me on, but I don't actually like being spanked. I like being held accountable for things—real things.”

  He patted his knee and opened his arms, happy when she immediately scrambled out of her chair and onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, helping her to settle against him, her head resting on his shoulder, face into his neck. He stroked her thigh. “Clara, I would like nothing more than to be a real disciplinarian—your real disciplinarian.”

  He breathed in the smell of her, relishing the feel of how easily her small body fit on his. “My ex-wife…she tolerated a few spanks here and there because she knew I was into it, but she never let me lead. So I can't say I have vast experience as a ‘Head of Household,’ but,” he pitched his voice to the timbre of a campaign speech, “if elected to the position, I promise I will do my very best to be fair and just, and never spank for fun.”

  She giggled, lifting her head to look at him through her thick lashes. “I'm not saying I'd vote to impeach you for fun spankings.”

  He brushed a stray wisp of hair from her eyes. “That's good, because you still have a spanking coming tonight, and I would hate to make you cry two nights in a row.”

  Her lush mouth opened slightly.

  He pushed her off his lap to stand. “Pull down your panties, Claire,” he murmured, his voice charged with promise.

  Her breath quickened as she lifted her short jean skirt.

  His cock went rock hard. He watched her slide her thumbs into the waistband of her pink polka-dotted panties and slowly pulled them down. He had never considered the difference in flavor between discipline and erotic spanking but discovering Claire wanted real authority was somehow even hotter than learning she was into spanking. Knowing she would be willing to submit to his lead, not just in the bedroom, but outside of it, gave him an enormous boost of manly pride.

  She stood before him now, pants pulled down, waiting for her spanking and the sight was at once erotic and heart-rending.

  He took her hand and pulled her over his lap, savoring the view of her lovely cheeks as he adjusted her into an ideal position for spanking. He gave her bottom a sound slap, then rubbed. “Do you know why you're being spanked, Claire?”

  ~.~

  “Mmm hmm,” she whimpered. Luis's hand came down again with a loud smack.

  “Why?”

  “For leaving a snotty message on your phone?”

  She heard him chuckle just before his hand connected again with her prickling flesh. “Sí, mi amor. You wrote me off this morning without even talking to me.” He picked up his speed, landing a dozen swift smacks across her cheeks. She sucked in her breath and kicked one heel, wriggling against the burn.

  “And what else?”

  She hardly heard the question because he had begun another volley of swift spanks and focusing on anything other than the pain was nearly impossible.

  “What else, Claire?”

  She'd thought he'd been spanking hard, but he increased the intensity now and her ability to answer drifted even further away. He slapped the back of her thigh twice and she howled in protest.

  “Answer me, cariña.”

  “I don't know!” she managed to gasp.

  He began spanking again and she moaned a long “Noooooooo,” as she kicked her heels.

  Luis threw one leg over hers to pin them down, and she whimpered a protest again.

  “How about for showing up here three hours late?” He attacked the same exact spot where her right cheek met her thigh over and over again.

  She squealed loudly. “Sorry!”

  He moved to the left. “I thought you weren't coming. I was very disappointed, Claire. You see, I've been attracted to you since our very first appointment.”

  “Uhhhhhh,” she managed.

  He moved back to the right, torturing her with his steady, firm slaps.

  “And last night when I discovered you're spankable, well, I was ready to marry you on the spot.”

  She giggled in spite of the fire blazing across her butt. To her relief, the spanks stopped, and Luis patted her numbed cheeks with his palm. His fingers slid between her legs, gliding into the lush wetness her pussy had produced. He slowly moved them up and down her slit, spreading her nectar over her swelling sex. “I guess that was punitive enough to excite you, Claire?”

  A tiny whimper came out of her mouth.

  His hand withdrew, and he brought his palm sharply down on her right buttock and then her left. “Or do you need me to teach you another lesson with the hairbrush?”

  “No, sir!”

  The sound of Luis's rich, deep laughter reverberated through her whole body, stoking the heat already coursing through her.

  He rubbed her hot cheeks slowly, kneading her flesh in his large, hard palms in a proprietary way. She moaned and pushed back at him. His fingers slipped between her legs again, penetrating her deeply this time. She arched, spreading her thighs and offering her hot core for his exploration. He pressed his fingers in and out of her until the need built like a tight coil.

  “Luis!”

  “Amorcita.”

  “I have a condom,” she gasped.

  Again, the pleasurable sound of his chuckle surrounded her, and he pulled her upright to sit on his lap. She was dazed, half out of her mind with desire, and disoriented by the change in altitude after hanging over his knee. She looked at him, pleadingly, unable to speak.

  “Are you sure, mi amor?” he asked seriously, gazing up at her.

  She nodded, her head feeling wobbly on its perch. She reached between his legs and felt his hardened cock pressing eagerly against his pants.

  He caught her hand, groaning. “Let's go to the bedroom,” he said hoarsely, nudging her up to stand. He surged to his feet and scooped her, giggling, into his arms, carrying her down the hall to a darkened room.

  She blinked in the shadows as he lit a candle and stripped off his clothes. Taking his cue, she wriggled out of her skirt and panties, and pulled her sweater and tank off, keeping her eyes glued to his lanky, defined physique. He tossed her a condom and crawled up on the bed, straddling her and pinioning her wrists above her head before she could open the wrapper. He held her like that for a moment, looking down with glittering eyes. She bent her knees and pushed into her heels to press her hips up, rolling wantonly against the firm pressure of his pelvis.

  “Are you going to be a good girl?” he asked softly. A spasm ripped through her at his words and she bucked her hips harder, needy for release.

  “Maybe,” she panted. He rolled her hip to one side and gave her several swift smacks on the ass.

  “Okay, yes!” she gasped. “I'll be a good girl. Your good girl.”

  He growled at that and attacked, his mouth hungry on her neck as his hard cock pressed between her legs. The hand holding her wrists groped for the condom and snatched it out of her hand, bringing it to his mouth where he savagely tore it open with his teeth. Her wrist freed, she snatched it back from him, reaching for his cock and grasping it with great authority. She rolled the condom over the head and down his length, while guiding him at the same time to her entrance.

  “Oh God, yes!” she groaned as he penetrated her. She grasped his shoulders tightly as he moved in and out, plunging to the hilt and lifting slightly on the in-stroke, so he caught her clit each time. She arched into him, opening her mouth wide as she practically sobbed in ecstasy, the rhythmic slamming of his flesh against hers the only thing that mattered.

  “Oh please,” she begged. “Please? Luis…oh yes, oh God…” She wrapped her legs around his waist, squeezing her inner thighs like a vice, taking him as deeply within her as she
could and holding him there while her orgasm came slamming down the tracks. “Yes, yes, YES!” she screamed, and Luis bucked against her, his own orgasm adding to hers, prolonging it so she milked his cock of its load with her spasming muscles.

  “Oh God,” he gasped, collapsing to one side of her, rolling her hips so they remained connected. “That was amazing.”

  ~.~

  “Yeah,” Claire said, dazedly.

  He had never been with a woman who was so vocal before. Hearing her call out his name at the moment of climax had been almost as big a turn-on as spanking her. He nuzzled into her neck, making contented noises against her baby soft skin.

  “Luis?”

  He slid out of her and removed the condom, then leaned up on his elbow to gaze at her beautiful visage. Her face was flushed from exertion, her lithe, youthful body still trembling against him. He stroked her cheek with his thumb.

  “Qué cosa?”

  “I know you were kidding when you said you wanted to marry me, but…” her eyes drifted away from his, but he held her face to keep her from turning away. “—I just want to know, I mean—would you marry again?”

  Though a week ago he would have sworn otherwise, he nodded now, soberly. “Absolutely,” he answered truthfully.

  “And would you—I mean, I know you already have kids, but—”

  He nodded again. “Yes.” With Claire, he would do it all again. And it would be so much better with her. He'd be a true “head of household,” like his father had been, with a woman who was turned on by his natural dominance. The idea of it gave him a surge of satisfaction. He bent to kiss her, brushing her lips softly at first, then pressing against them with insistence, nudging them open and slipping his tongue between them to seek hers. She caught his face with her two hands, holding him as she kissed him back with a tenderness that expanded his heart. They separated and he stroked her hair back from her face.

  “Do you think you can obey me, mi corazón?”

  A slight blush bloomed in her cheeks and her eyes lowered momentarily. “I'll try,” she said shyly.

  He kissed her again, deeply. “I will try to be a good leader,” he said seriously. He settled down next to her, rolling to his back with his hands interlaced behind his head. “Let's see…I think I might need to institute some rules right away, to make sure we get off to a good start.”