Page 24 of Impressing Brett

When I bite a bit too hard into my bottom lip, Brett chuckles. “Let me amend my statement. My clothes will stay on. My cock will stay in my pants. He can be patient. If you need a release after I spank you, I will give it to you.”

My mouth drops open. My eyes go wide again. I keep thinking he’s surely not serious, but he is. He really is.

“Ready?” His hands come to the elastic of my leggings at my hips.

I grab his shoulders as he twists his body toward mine and tugs my pants and panties down to my knees. I’m panting already. I feel so exposed. I’m also glad I keep myself shaved bare and well-groomed. How the hell could I have predicted fifteen hours ago that this morning I would wake up in Brett Pauson’s house and let him pull my pants down to spank my bare bottom before noon?

It’s ludicrous, and it’s happening.

He guides me over his thighs. “Fold your hands under you so they don’t get in the way, Little lamb. If you can’t do that, I’ll hold your wrists at the small of your back. I don’t want to accidentally swat your fingers.”

I cross my arms above my chest and lean my cheek on my forearms. It’s hard to concentrate. I’m so very aware of my bare ass and the way he’s palming it. It’s so…intimate.

“Good girl.”

When he praises me, I melt a little. No. A lot. I’m like a stick of butter out in the sun. His words do that to me. As part of my melting, wetness is leaking from between my legs.

He palms my bottom. “I’m going to take my time warming you up, Lacy. Soft swats at first before I increase the pressure when I’m certain you can take it.”

I nod. I’m too tongue-tied to do anything else.

The first swat startles me. I jump, but it doesn’t hurt. It’s just different. Weird. No one even spanked me when I was a child. My mother didn’t believe in any kind of corporal punishment, and my father had very little to do with my early years.

Brett spanks my other cheek next and then paddles back and forth. It’s oddly soothing, somehow. Now that the shock is over, I’m relaxing. He keeps going. The swats become more random. I can’t predict which side or where on my butt he might strike next.

After about a dozen spanks, he pauses and rubs my cheeks. “How does that feel, Little lamb?”

“Good,” I whisper. It’s a weird answer. I don’t know what else to say.

He chuckles. “Good? You want more?”

I nod.

“Can I increase the pressure, Lacy?”

“I think so,” I respond softly. It’s so awkward to be discussing this. Hell, it’s hard to fathom that I’m lying over Brett’s lap with my bare ass on display, letting him spank me. Encouraging him to do it harder.

“Good girl.”

Oh, God. Those words again. My sex throbs. I squeeze my legs together.

He hasn’t resumed yet and slides his hand down to my thighs. “I think my Little girl likes to be praised.”

I purse my lips. I’m embarrassed. How could I not be?

He pats my legs. “Spread your knees, Little lamb,” he says. His voice is so gentle. I find that interesting. I wonder if he will always be this calm and collected when he spanks me.

Good grief. What am I thinking? Is this really going to happen again? Are we suddenly some kind of kinky couple, and he’s going to spank me when I’m naughty every day?

Brett seems to think we are. My head is still spinning. I can’t grasp this abrupt change in my life. It’s so fast.

He taps my thighs again. “Lacy…” This time, his voice holds a hint of warning, and I realize I haven’t obeyed him.

I quickly part my knees a few inches. That’s all I can do with my yoga pants and my panties bunched up around them.

“Good girl,” he repeats.

I whimper. It sounds really loud in the silence of the room, which makes my face heat.

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