“Your hands are going to be on me? I thought you just had a whip orsomething.”
Such a fresh mind. A brave, freshmind.
“I’m not going to use a whip. I have something in mind that I believe will be a perfect tool for ourpurposes—”
Ryan stifled a laugh, which caused me to stop and find out what he had found humor in. He quickly sat up straight and a serious expression appeared on his face along with pink cheeks. Interesting.Just like a boy caught with his hand in the cookiejar.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. Please, continue. I’msorry.”
“It’s alright, Ryan. But now I’m curious; what did you findhumorous?”
He looked at me for a moment, gauging if he could trust that I wouldn’t be angry. He must have seen or felt what he needed to because another smile forced its way onto hisface.
“Tool—” He looked down as he laughed and tried to contain his fit of laughs. “You saidtool.”
His laughter and grin had me laughing along withhim.
“I’m sorry,” he wiped the grin from his face. “That was immature of me. Please continue,” hesaid.
“As I was saying, I’m not going to use a whip on you. I have an item in mind, though. But back to the massage and hands, yes, my hands will be on you, Ryan. I don’t want my hands to be the first on your body that day. Hence, the need for themassage.”
He nodded, laughtergone.
“Okay, I can dothat.”
“Good.” I watched him closely as I said ‘good.’ Again, his brows perked up and the corners of his mouth turned upward. “Would you like to see the room and the too—would you like to see the impactimplement?”
“Yeah, that’d becool.”
We went inside and I led him down the hall to the room that had all of my kink furniture in it. As we walked, I told him about how I hosted play parties here in my home on a monthly basis. I also suggested that as my apprentice, I’d like for him to attend the next one. He eagerly accepted theinvitation.
“Damn!” Ryan said under his breath as we walked into the playroom.
I smiled and went to my elevated horizontal bar. I reached upward and gripped the bar while Ryan walked around and looked at everything. I knew this was a lot visually for him to take in and I needed to allow him to roam at his own pace and examine the place. I found it interesting that his feet carried him right to the spanking bench. He stood at the foot of it and quietly looked atit.
“I recognize this from some of the videos that I have watched,” hevolunteered.
In emails, he had told me that he watched spanking videos often and had read short stories that involvedspanking.
“I know I shouldn’t like them so much, but I do,” he saidquietly.
Ryan had a lot of turmoil in his mind. There’d been a lot he had kept all to himself. And a lot of things he hasn’t allowed himself to experience because society deemed it weird, or unacceptable. He also felt guilty about having interests that fall outside of thebox.
“Ryan, there’s nothing wrong with liking spanking videos. Or reading stories aboutit.”
“People would find it weirdthough.”
“Society and people fear things that they don’t understand. They call it names to make themselves feel better. Usually, they’re insecure in their own life. Trust me, Ryan, there’s nothing weird about yourdesires.”
He nodded and though he looked at the bench, I knew his mind was somewhere else. Perhaps, a memory where someone had ridiculed him for liking something that society told him was wrong. I decided to dig a little further since we had been on the topic of spankingvideos.
“Is there something in particular about the spanking videos that you like?” He was quiet and still looking at the spanking bench. “Perhaps, something in particular that usually turns you on in them? Part of a scene,perhaps?”
He nodded and glanced at me. “When they’re beingreprimanded.”
Very interesting. He said when ‘they’re being reprimanded,’ rather than when ‘they’re reprimanding.’ He’s more focused on the bottom in the scene than the Top. He’s turned on by what was being done to the bottom, rather than doingit.
Ryan turned and looked at me and the elevated bar that my hands were curledaround.
