Boundaries. That was the word she’d been looking for when she said parameters.
“I’ve never negotiated to let someone hurt me. It’s always been pretend spankings. Something tells me you aren’t going to go for that.”
“If there’s a reason you can’t be spanked, we’ll find other consequences and deterrents. I’m not opposed to cornertime, early bedtime, orgasm denial, or countless other ways I can alter my baby-girl’s behavior when she can’t behave.” He grinned. “Or won’t.”
“I never thought I wanted to be hurt, and I’m still not sure I do, but I think...” She sighed. “I don’t think I can take it off the table. I might, once I experience it, but it feels dishonest to both of us for me to rule it out.”
“Okay. We’ll figure it out. Anything else?”
“I need to hear what you want. Expectations, and any... I don’t know. Philosophies?”
“Explain what you mean by philosophies. I know you have this thing where you don’t fuck and tell, but we both know I’m going to need a specific example for some of this, right?”
Sandy looked around and saw he was right — no one was paying attention to their conversation.
“One of my regulars has this idea that little girls should stay virgins, so he only does my ass.”
“Ah. Philosophies. Okay.” He took a bite, considering. “I see you as an adult who needs babying, not as an actual little girl. I may treat you like a little, but when we have sex — if we have sex — I’ll be having sex with a grown-assed woman. For me, it’s about taking care of you.”
At his words, everything clicked into place. She wasn’t regressing to a child with him, she was just letting him take care of her.
“And another of my philosophies has to do with not making up shit reasons to punish on my end, and not doing things to get punished on your end. If you happen to like fun spankings and want one, we can arrange for a way you can get them — calling me a meanie-butt, or some other prearranged word. However, disobeying a rule you’ve agreed to follow will mean consequences, and it won’t be something you’ll like. If spankings are off the table, we’ll find another deterrent. From my side, I’m not going to set you up to fail.”
Sandy’s heart settled in her chest. She wouldn’t have to get answers wrong on a test on purpose.
She could have the real thing with Vic. She could be his baby-girl for real.
But their timing sucked, and she was going to have to be an adult and tell him.
“I’ll need four to six uninterrupted hours to do homework, study, and work on a project tomorrow. I usually try to get started around one or two on Sunday, and then work until I finish.”
“Okay. I’ll leave so you can have your regular study atmosphere. As much as I’d like to hang out so I can walk Prince for you, and cook food to feed you when you finish, I know you’re in the final weeks of school and it won’t do for me to screw with your schedule.”
“Thanks. This is the last week I’m scheduled to work Monday and Wednesday. I knew I’d need to buckle down for finals, so I set an end date for them months ago, so no one would book me.”
“You’ll shoo me away when you need to study, or I’ll be unhappy with you.”
“Okay.”
“I believe you want to say either Yes, Sir, or I understand, Uncle Victor.” He put his arm around her again. “It’s all about acknowledging you understand I just gave an order and not a request. You’ll figure it out, and I’ll help guide you while you do.”
She shook her head to argue, but changed her mind because his explanation sank in and made sense — there was a logical reason, he wasn’t just ordering her to use a silly phrase for no reason. “Okay, Uncle Victor. I’ll probably screw up until I get the hang of it. I’m glad you’ll help.”
His voice dropped an octave. It was soft, affectionate, and yet it held a hint of the tone that turned her on so much. “It’s my job to help you learn and to take care of you. It’s your job to learn and to be taken care of. I’ll always help, baby-girl. Sometimes you may not like the way I help, and we’ll work through it when we get there.”
He went back to eating. “You told me your safeword’s red already. Say it, and everything stops so we can talk.”
“Oh.” Could it be real with a safeword?
“Baby-girl, you aren’t supposed to sound disappointed when someone reminds you of your safeword.” His tone was one of admonishment, though his eyes showed laughter.
“I thought it was going to be real.”
“It will be, because you won’t abuse it. You’ll only use it if something’s wrong — physically or emotionally — and I don’t pick up on it. If I hurt you in a way that doesn’t work, you have to let me know. That isn’t negotiable.”
Realization dawned on her. “But if I use it just to get out of something, you’ll know. You’ll smell the lie.”
“Exactly right. Do you want another hot chocolate?”
“No, Uncle Victor. Maybe some water?” The day was starting to get to her. She was ready for sleep.
Vic flagged the server down, requested boxes for the rest of his food, and paid. He knew she was flagging and took her straight home.
And when Prince went apeshit about her bringing Vic home, he fed the chicken out of his sandwich to her little tyrant.
Sandy fell asleep while the two males bonded over food.
Chapter Eight
Vic looked at his little sleeping princess and wondered how he’d got so lucky.
At first, he’d wanted to rescue her from the life of a sex worker, but the more he talked to her, the more he understood she needed to decide when to quit. Not him.
She was already shutting it down by cutting two days a week out. Half days, but still. It was a start.
Sandy wasn’t a victim. His baby-girl would never be anyone’s victim. She’d chosen the work as a means to an end, and she seemed to have found power in it. Our choices define us, and he liked her — a lot — so he couldn’t be upset with any of the decisions she’d made to get to the present version of herself.
Also, he was intrigued with the possibilities. She’d discovered she liked being a little, but had never played with it outside of the structure of work. The MC gave her a safe space, where men negotiated for extras with clear dollar amounts. She’d done the activities without the actual power exchange. Vic would get to show her the wonders of life as a pampered little princess, but they weren’t having to start from scratch. She already had an idea of what turned her on, so most of the hard part was done.
“Has she taught you anything?” he asked Prince. The little bastard eyed the plate with the chicken, and Vic pulled a piece off, showed it to him, and said, “Sit.”
Prince sat, and Vic called him a good boy while he fed the little guy a bite of chicken.
“Roll over?” Prince eyed the chicken, considered it, and rolled over — clearly expecting more chicken when he stood again.
Vic laughed, and fed him another bite. “Good boy. You’re growing on me, little guy. We just need to get the barking and growling under control.”
The two shared the meal until the food was gone, and Vic took a quick shower before climbing into bed with his baby-girl.
SANDY SAT STRAIGHT up in bed and glared at Prince, barking his ass off from the bench at the foot of her bed. He usually stood over her in bed and barked down at her, but he must not have wanted to do that with Vic in the bed.
Vic sat up with her and said, “Enough Prince. Hush.”
Prince grumbled at him, but shut up.
“How the fuck did you do that?”
“No bad words, baby-girl.”
“That won’t work for me.”
“Then we’ll define some boundaries, but definitely no bad words in bed.”
She sighed. “Okay, Uncle Victor.”
“Good girl.”
She asked again. “How did you get him to shut up?”
“We came to an understanding last night. He wants me to like h
im so I’ll give him more chicken.” He rubbed her back. “If you’ll help me get his harness on him, I’ll walk him so you can go back to sleep.”
“No. He’s my dog. My responsibility.”
“And you’re my responsibility, and you need sleep. If you don’t trust me with him, tell me and I’ll drop it, otherwise, I’m taking him.”
She considered, and realized she trusted Vic would take care of her little guy.
“Yeah. Okay. You know where my keys are. Take them with you so you can lock me in while you’re gone.”
She showed him how the harness worked, and rolled over to go back to sleep when they left — Prince happy his new favorite human was walking him, and Vic apparently happy Sandy trusted him with her dog.
VIC WOKE SANDY AT ELEVEN with breakfast in bed — eggs, bacon, biscuits, and gravy. He couldn’t go shopping while he had Prince, so he’d stopped off at his apartment to get what he needed.
They spent two hours negotiating — while they ate, and then cleaned the kitchen, and finally while they sat on the balcony — Sandy with coffee, Vic with lemon water. He’d brought a lemon from his apartment, too.
Consequences could include punishment enemas, butt plugs, mouthsoaping, a large ball-gag that would hurt her jaw and prevent understandable speech, and numerous forms of cornertime. He explained a few versions — standing in various positions he described in detail, kneeling, kneeling on rice, and a few bent-over versions that had her horny just considering the possibilities. It seemed Uncle Victor had a thing for cornertime.
Could she stand for twenty-three minutes, bent over at the waist, her arms holding her elbows behind her back, and holding a sheet of paper to the wall with her nose? She didn’t know, but she’d squirmed in her seat at the thoughts having to try.
But the spanking negotiation had her working hardest not to squirm and fidget, and she only had her coffee to hold onto out on the balcony.
When they’d finished the last bit of negotiation, she told him, “I don’t want to have to wait until I screw up to be spanked. I need to know what it’ll be like.”
“Some couples schedule a maintenance spanking — once a week, or sometimes once a month. Today’s the first Sunday of the month, let’s do it tonight, and depending on how things go, we may want to consider doing it monthly — first Sunday. Maybe not. We’ll see how things go, but the first will be tonight. Possibly the last, if you don’t need them.”
“Why would I need them?”
“A reminder. Some littles forget to behave and then need a bad punishment spanking because they get too mouthy, or lose their temper, or refuse an order. A maintenance spanking can remind them they need to behave, so they don’t need to be punished.”
Heat flashed over her entire body and focused in her nether regions and nipples. She’d have never believed she would want a spanking. The sun came out from behind a cloud, the light hit his chiseled features just right, and she thought she might be in love. His mouth, his cheeks, his eyes — all focused on her. And her spanking.
Her clit throbbed.
“Okay, Uncle Victor. Tonight.”
Chapter Nine
“You aren’t in trouble, but I want to show you how a spanking will be if you ever get in trouble,” Vic explained, when Sandy protested having to stand in the corner. “Five minutes in the corner, and then you’ll bend over my knee. Depending on what you’ve done to get in trouble, you may be holding soap in your mouth in the corner, or holding onto an enema. Today, you’ll just face he corner. Nothing else.”
She walked to the corner. “Fine, but this is silly.”
“And yet, you’ll do it, and you’ll think about what’s going to happen to your bottom while you’re there. This is maintenance, so you acknowledge you’re there because I said so, and it’s your job to trust me to know what you need. If you were in trouble, you’d be thinking about your actions, and the consequences about to be visited upon you.”
Five minutes felt like an hour, and she’d chipped most of the polish off of two nails when the time was up.
“Okay, baby-girl. Time’s up. Let’s get the spanking handled before we address the fidgeting.”
She wasn’t sure what he meant, but she was too focused on the spanking, now that it was time. Every nerve ending in her body was primed and ready, and her heart raced as if she were about to have to give a report in front of other students.
He’d stripped her naked to stand in the corner, and he was in shorts and a t-shirt. She liked the way it felt — her naked and him dressed.
“Over my lap.”
He was sitting on her bench, looking as if it were a throne. Today he was all king, not even close to a queen.
She walked to him.
And stood there, looking at his lap. Why couldn’t she bend over?
“I know it’s hard the first time. Do you need help?”
“No. I can... I’m okay.” She forced her body to bend, her knees to dip, until her stomach was on his knees.
“Close. Let’s adjust you a little.”
The next thing she knew, he’d tilted her forward, her hands were on the floor, and her butt was in the air. She’d been like this before, of course, for customers, but that was when she knew it wouldn’t hurt.
“Since this is your first, I’m going to give you two hard swats without a warmup. True punishment doesn’t allow for a warmup, and most of the time you won’t get them for maintenance, either, but I need to ease you into this, so you’ll get one today.” He rubbed circles on one cheek, then the other. “But first, two hard swats.”
His hand pulled away and he hit her left cheek and then right, with no pause between. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, her heart raced, she gasped for air.
She tried to stand but he held her down, his warm hand on her back.
“You’re okay, baby-girl. It’s over.” His other hand rubbed her bottom, soothed.
“That hurt!”
“I know, but it’s over. Breathe for me. Five deep breaths. An eight count in, and an eight count out.” He counted to eight so damned slow she almost couldn’t do it, but he sped the last of the count just a little, thank goodness.
He kept rubbing, stroking. Goose bumps followed his hand across her bottom and spread to the rest of her. And she breathed in and out as ordered, his voice leading her.
When the fifth deep breath was over, her bottom was still warm but it didn’t hurt anymore. She bent her legs so her feet were in the air. Straightened them so her toes touched the floor again. The position was awkward. All of her weight was on her body and hands. She wasn’t in control. Uncle Victor was.
“Good girl. Light spanks now. These won’t hurt.”
Her already rapid heartbeat sped even faster. She braced for the first strike, expecting it to hurt, but it didn’t. After four or five without pain she relaxed, and he caressed her back with his other hand. “Good girl. Just relax and trust me.”
Another dozen strikes and it was almost boring — like her customers — but he quickly increased the strength until she wasn’t bored with it anymore, but it was still far from hurting.
The heat and warmth grew, and an involuntary moan escaped. His chuckle was deep and more than a little cocky. “That’s it baby-girl. Relax and enjoy it. Trust me to make this part good for you.”
He gradually spanked harder, and her bottom grew warmer, and eventually hot.
She moaned in protest when he stopped, and he gave her another manly, sexy, cocky chuckle.
“You’re doing great, baby-girl. Do you want to keep going?”
“Yes. Please.”
This time, the strike was louder and she felt it more, but she lifted her bottom, silently asking for more.
He spread his legs a little, and she had to rethink her balance. The hand on her back touched her shoulder. “Give me your hands, baby-girl. I need to hold you down so you can’t try to stand. If you reach back and I’m not holding you, you could fall on your head.”
She moved o
ne hand back, and then the other, trusting he wouldn’t let her fall on her head, because it wouldn’t take much. He held both her wrists at the small of her back — trapping her even more, but she wasn’t afraid. She wanted more.
The blows came louder, harder, and faster. Her moans turned into mini-shouts, and she understood why he’d put music on kind of loud in the other room.
He struck again and again. Stinging, thudding, and shaking her to her core. Her bottom was so hot, and he was hitting hard enough now she could feel her skin giving way, feel the muscles underneath absorbing the impact.
And still, she wanted more.
Without warning, fingers drove into her pussy and pumped. Two fingers. Three fingers. Four. Hard and fast, and just as she was about to orgasm, he said, “Come for me, baby-girl. Let me feel you come with my fingers inside you.”
Sandy thought the top of her head might come off. Every muscle in her body tensed, spasmed, jerked, and thrashed out of control. She came forever, and her entire world turned technicolor.
The orgasm ended all at once and left her spent. Drained. Vic turned her in his arms, cradled her to his chest, stood, walked around to the side of the bed, and gently settled her on the sheets.
Her eyes opened and she wanted him. Needed him.
“You have too many clothes on,” she told him, her voice drowsy.
“You were supposed to have to stand in the corner when we finished, but I’ll give you some time to recover.”
She shook her head. “I want you, Vic. Please.”
He froze. “You’re sure?”
“I’ve never felt so close to someone. Please don’t turn away.”
He was out of his jeans in an instant, though he left his boxer briefs on.
Vic’s mouth landed on hers, insistent, demanding, and she opened and gave him everything he wanted. He climbed into bed, his body over hers — all muscle, grace, and heat. He moved down her body, sucked her nipple into his mouth and pulled until she didn’t know if it felt good or it hurt — but she didn’t want him to stop. When he released it and kept moving down, she whined at the loss of his mouth.
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