Bryson meets us at the private room. When we arrive, he’s holding it open. He nods toward me, and then his gaze shifts to Simone and, finally, Lillian.
Simone is obviously Little based on her attire. Plus, I have my hand on the small of her back. There’s no mistaking she’s mine. Bryson does not linger on her, but I swear he hesitates when he sets his gaze on Lillian.
I shut the door behind us before making introductions. “Bryson, this is Simone. You’ve probably seen her around here before. She’s been a member for a number of years.”
Bryson takes her hand. “I have seen you. I don’t think we’ve ever been formally introduced.”
“And this is Simone’s sister, Lillian. She just moved to Seattle and has never been to a kink club. She’s also never witnessed a spanking. I was hoping she could watch for a few minutes and slip out of the room when she gets uncomfortable.”
Bryson shakes Lillian’s hand next. “No problem. I’m only here to observe and provide some guidance, so I can keep an eye on Lillian and let her out of the room when her eyes bug out too far,” he teases.
Lillian’s cheeks turn pink. “Thank you.”
Bryson points toward a loveseat. “Why don’t you have a seat, Lillian.”
I guide Simone to the spanking bench in the middle of the room, keeping my hands on her shoulders.
Bryson turns his attention to us. “You told me over the phone that you have done one deep spanking scene, expecting Simone to relieve some stress from a good cry.”
I nod. “Exactly. I was surprised that, instead of being reduced to tears, she managed to accept a very heavy hand and grew aroused to the point that I decided she would need to find release through orgasm instead of tears.”
Lillian clears her throat. “Yeah, just so we’re clear, I’ll be vacating the room before you get anywhere near that stage.”
Bryson chuckles. “You don’t want to watch your sister and her boyfriend getting hot and heavy?” he jokes.
“Not in this lifetime.”
He turns back to us. “It’s not unheard of. Kind of unusual, especially for someone new to the scene and new to spanking, but I’ve seen submissives get release from orgasms instead of crying. The important thing is that if what she needs is release, you should not end the scene with denial. It will leave her frustrated and more stressed than she was before the scene. She needs to know she will get the release she craves. If you want to practice denial at other times, do so without spanking. You also wouldn’t want to spank her to that extent very often.”
“That’s what I figured. Instead of spanking her for misbehavior, I’ve used other forms of discipline, except for the occasional swat on the bottom for something minor that’s not dangerous or serious.”
Bryson nods. “Perfect. Go ahead and do your thing. I’ll let Lillian out when she gets uncomfortable, and I’ll stay until you give me a nod.”
“Thanks. Appreciate it,” I tell him before turning toward Simone to lift her onto the spanking bench. “Put your elbows and knees on the padded sections, Little one.” I won’t ordinarily let her wear anything when I spank her, but with Lillian and Bryson in the room, I know naked isn’t an option.
I stroke my girl’s pigtails a few times to help her relax before lifting her dress to the small of her back. “I’m going to pull your panties down to your thighs. “Lillian can’t see your private parts from where she’s sitting.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
I love how she shivers when I lower the cotton bikinis to her thighs. I’ll take them off entirely after they both leave. I intend for Simone to get everything she needs from this. I’ll take my lead from her reactions, but I suspect thrusting my fingers into her tight cunt will not be our stopping point tonight. I’m prepared for whatever cues I get from her.
“I’m going to warm you up first, just like last time, and then I’ll increase the pressure when you’re ready. What’s your safeword, Simone?”
“Red, Sir.”
“Good girl. Keep your elbows and knees on the padded sections, understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
I hold her dress at the small of her back with one hand and palm her bottom with the other, molding the flesh until she relaxes deeper into the bench.
When I lift my palm to start swatting her, she sighs. Her body slackens further. My girl has been looking forward to this.
I ease her into it, taking my time to warm her bottom up, watching closely as her skin turns pink and heated. When I pause and lean over to kiss her cheek, she’s already sliding into subspace. “How are you feeling, Baby girl?”
“Good, Sir.”
“Want me to keep going?”
