"All the time. Reading that book, I kept imagining... what it would feel like. To be put over someone's knee and held accountable. I want to know someone cares enough to correct me when I'm being self-destructive or to give me a therapeutic spanking when I’m stressed or even a…"
"A what, baby? You are safe with me."
"A sexy good girl spanking."
Ethan laughs but not at me. I smile back at him. "I know how to give all those. Are those something you might want to explore? With me?"
I look at him, really look at him, meeting his eyes and I see nothing but patience, care and a bit of arousal.
"Yes. I want to try."
His smile is slow and devastatingly sexy. "Then let's establish some ground rules first." He stands up from the bed and stretches and once again I check out his body. Someone needs to pinch me, I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming. He’s so damn edible. Carved abs, wide shoulders and those forearms… I bite back a sigh in disappointment when he turns and walks over to the desk in the corner of his room. He picks up a notebook and pen, along with his desk chair and comes back to bed. He sits the chair next to the bed, drops into it, crosses his legs and leans forward. It’s very professor looking of him.
We spend the next hour talking through boundaries. Like safe words. We settle on the good old reliable ones- red for stop immediately, yellow for slow down, green for keep going. And when we get to limits and start to talk about what's off the table, what we're curious about, what we're definitely interested in, he doesn’t let me get too self-conscious or nervous. He makes the conversation feel natural, like I’m telling him what food I enjoy and what food grosses me out.
"I want to be clear about something," Ethan says towards the end of our conversation. "Discipline is different than a funishment or sexy spanking. When I discipline you, it's about correction and it’s about growth. I will make sure it’s very clear what kind of spanking or discipline is going on. If there is any question, I am not doing my job. The line should never, ever be blurred between discipline and sexual. The goal is to help you remember why you shouldn’t do whatever it is you’ve donewrong, so you don’t do it again, help process emotions and release the guilt you carry when you break a rule."
"How does getting spanked release guilt?" I know the answer to this question, I think. Although, I’ve never experienced it myself.
"Because it creates a clear endpoint. You made a mistake. You accept the consequence. Then it's over. Forgiven. You don't have to carry it anymore." His hand cups my face. "Does that make sense?"
"I think so."
"We can start small. I'll show you what a spanking feels like. If at any point you want to stop, you say red and we stop immediately. No questions, no judgment. Understood?"
"Understood."
"Good girl." He stands, offering his hand. "Come here."
I stand up and go to him, and I'm acutely aware that I'm wearing nothing but his t-shirt.
Ethan sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread, and looks at me with an intensity that makes my knees weak. He’s going to spank me. We haven’t had sex yet, we’ve barely only kissed, and he’s going to spank me.
"Here's what's going to happen," he says, his voice calm and controlled. "You're going to tell me something you did this week that you know wasn't good for you. Something where you ignored your own wellbeing. Then I'm going to put you over my knee and give you a spanking. Not because you're bad, but because you deserve someone who cares enough to help you do better. Do you understand?"
I nod, unable to speak.
"Words, sweetheart."
"Yes. I understand."
"Good. Now tell me. What did you do this week that hurt you?"
I think about the past few days. There are a few things I could confess. The constant work, missed meals and the anxiety I pushed through instead of addressing. I constantly hope that if I work hard enough, long enough… I’ll be enough to succeed.
"I stayed up until three a.m. working on a portfolio piece even though I was exhausted," I admit. "I skipped lunch two days in a row because I was too busy. And I didn't tell you when I was feeling overwhelmed because I didn't want to seem incapable."
"Come here."
My legs feel like jelly as I cross to him.
He guides me gently but firmly over his lap, positioning me so my hips are elevated, my hands braced on the bed.
"This is just a warmup," he explains, his hand resting on my lower back. "I'm going to spank you over your panties first. Nothing too intense. Just enough for you to feel it. I want you to focus on your breathing and tell me if anything doesn't feel right. Can you do that?"
"Yes."
"Color?"
