"I assume you mean the cat?"
While he humped, she hunted in the closet. In the box.
So we did.
According to P my butt was cold. He rectified that issue with a flurry of squats, or maybe it was a swarm. It certainly felt like bee stings had landed on mass on my arse. The use of the mean little paddle didn't challenge that theory. I'm so out of practice, because it has been a while, and I couldn't hardly take anything without squirming and whimpering.
I'd just finishing cleaning the house and was rather hot and sweaty.
Do you want a rest?
"Me, no..." Rest! I've been resting for bloody weeks.
As for the cat. She didn't leave the room, so I don't think she's been traumatised, but I do think she's too young to witness the shenanigans that went on in that room. Afterwards she try to gnaw on my feet and tapped me repeatedly with her paw.
She's very observant that cat. A little too dommy, perhaps.
Next time, oh and please don't wait for me to rest too long, next time, she's going to be locked out.