“Good, we begin. Excuse.” She nodded at Bertram and Jillian and turned to her task at hand.
Jillian heard her name being called as she walked out the door and turned. “Y-yes, Stepmother?”
“You will hang out with the sweet girl Cindy tomorrow, yes?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” she stumbled over her words.
“Good.” The woman nodded and turned away.
Bertram closed the door behind them and rushed her down the hall, but not before she heard the first screams.
“Bed?” he grinned.
“Mmhmm,” she squeaked.
“Don’t worry,” he said, wrapping his arms around hershoulders and leading her to the guest rooms. “The first night is always the hardest.”
She nodded and sagged against him as they walked.
“Hey.” He stopped suddenly. “I still owe you a spanking.”
She enteredthe beautiful suite and stopped breathing. It was like two different worlds combined. Rustic torches adorned the small entryway, reminding her of the small cobblestone streets in her town. She couldn’t tell if they were real or not, but they cast the sitting area in a relaxing light. A simple couch sat along one wall, facing a stone fireplace, already lit and creating a wonderful smelling heat. There were soft throw pillows adorned with a rainbow of colors and beaded sequins. Her favorite color, topaz, shone the brightest. There was a small side table that held a bottle of clear, bubbling liquid—some sort of sparkling wine, she guessed—and crystal glasses.
The other wall had a doorway leading into the bedroom. It seemed simple and unassuming, yet fresh and clean. The darker colored walls and draperies kept the light out and made the room as private as she could want.
She turned to Bertram, still standing in the sitting room, and noticed—it.
“A spanking horse,” he told her, as if reading her mind.
She walked around it, feeling the smooth texture of the finished wood, smelling the oak and lacquer. The dark cushioned top gave it the appearance of semi-comfort, and the adjustable legs with restraints set the butterflies moving in her stomach again.
She pictured herself draped over it and Bertram scolding her for something while spanking her bottom until it was sore and gloriously red. She shuddered and turned to meethis knowing eyes. His salt and pepper hair complemented his dark eyes, gleaming with specks of gold.
“We’ll try it sometime, when you are ready for it, Jillian. But first, let’s get you warmed up the old fashioned way.” He sat down on the couch, patted his lap, and suddenly became serious. “Jillian, this is a safe place. Spankings and other activities are done consensually.” He cleared his throat.
“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “What did you say?”
He chuckled and beckoned her with his warm eyes. “I asked you if you want me to spank you.”
She nodded her head, feeling shy and embarrassed.
“Use your words, please. Do you. Want me. To spank you?”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered and stood in front of him. God, this was so embarrassing. Why couldn’t he yank her over his lap like he did the first time? She wasn’t so sure she liked consenting to this. Did it make her a freak? She felt the first tear slide down her cheek. So much had happened during the past 24 hours.
The long, cold journey, Jake getting hurt—which was completely her fault—being stuck in a blizzard in a place that so completely confused her but also beckoned to her. She tasted the salty tears as they streamed down her warm cheeks and onto her lips.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” She turned and started to fumble her way to the bedroom. She felt the movement behind her as he lifted her into the air and unceremoniously threw her over his lap. “Oomph!”
The first swat on the back of her dress was not hard, but it and the sudden position startled her. He leaned in to whisper into her ear, “Say Peter Piper if it gets to be too much.”
She nodded, thankful he’d taken charge, and she pressedinto his hard lap, placing her cheek on the cushions and lifting her bottom up toward his hand.
BERTRAM
He took a deep breath and prayed he was right. The poor thing was overwhelmed, fatigued, and overstimulated. And she didn’t understand how to ask for what she so badly wanted. Her body told him quite clearly what he needed to know. But would her mind allow her to receive what he gave?
He lifted her dress and pettiskirts up and gently rolled them onto her back. He struck her panty covered bottom with firm smacks, using only a quarter of his strength. He didn’t want to spook her, only calm her down and give her a release. After every slap, she raised her bottom up to him, as if asking for more. He wondered if she knew she was doing that.
