Page 18 of Impressing Brett

She swallows. “I don’t know. Why do you want to spank me?”

“Because I know it will help you let go of the stress you’ve been carrying.”

“Not because I rolled my eyes?”

I chuckle. “Well, that too, but you only rolled your eyes to test me and see if I would follow through and give you what you really need.”

Her jaw drops. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” I challenge.

She bites that bottom lip. “I don’t know,” she says again.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out. Want to try it?”

She wiggles on my lap, gripping her knees together tight. “Will it hurt?” she asks in the littlest voice I’ve heard from her.

“If you want it to.” I keep rubbing her back. “Some people like to be spanked hard enough to make them cry because they enjoy the release. Some Little girls prefer a playful spanking that leaves nothing more than a slight sting.”

She frowns. “Little girls? I’m not a little girl. You called me a little girl earlier. Why?”

I need to choose my words carefully. “Have you ever heard of age play, Lacy?”

She slowly shakes her head.

“When you’ve read books where the heroine got spanked, was she at a BDSM club?”

She nods. “Like on a St. Andrews cross or a spanking bench.” Her cheeks pinken.

Maybe she hasn’t read any age play. “Some adults like to practice another form of kink called age play. They might also do that in a club, but sometimes, they do it at home. Not just for an hour on a Friday night but more frequently.”

She stares at me.

I never imagined myself in this position, explaining age play to an unknowing submissive. And the only reason I’m even remotely willing to do so is because I firmly believe Lacy already dabbles in age play without knowing the vocabulary. Her tendencies lean that way.

“Age play is for submissive adults who like to spend time enjoying some of the aspects of a younger stage of life. They might do that alone, but they often prefer having someone take care of them while they’re role-playing in a regressed state.” My God, it’s difficult to explain, and I don’t want her to leap off my lap and run from the room. I’m trying to be diplomatic.

She takes shallow breaths while I wait for her to react or ask a question. “You mean like adults who want to pretend to be young again?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

She looks down at her lap, fidgeting her fingers again. “And you think I’m like that?” she whispers.

“Yes, Little lamb.”

She purses her lips, still staring at her lap.

I let her process.

“Sometimes, I pretend I’m a Little girl,” she finally admits in the softest voice.

I slide my hand up her back and cup her neck. “That’s age play, Lacy. That’s why I called you Little girl. It helps center you in the mindset when you need it.”

She lifts her head. “That doesn’t seem weird to you?”

“Not at all. I’m the sort of person who likes to be the caregiver to a Little girl.” I haven’t used the D word yet. It’s coming.

Her brow furrows. “Why would you want to do that?”

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