Page 76 of Daddy's Lesson

He blinked in surprise, as if he hadn’t really thought this was going to happen, but he recovered a moment later. “Alright, then.”

I saw the shift in his demeanor. Sudden and seamless. He wore his Daddy persona as if it were a second skin.

Lennon helped me to my feet, then slipped his jacket off my shoulders, leaving me standing in front of his friends in nothing but my bra and panties. Heat rose up my chest to my cheeks. I was embarrassed and a little ashamed, but I also felt something else. Pride. Liberation. Belonging.

And I could see those same emotions playing over his face, as well. Hooking his arm around my waist, he turned to his friends, who seemed to be pretending not to watch us. “We’ll see you guys out there,” he said, pulling the door open and leading me onto the main club floor.

The room was just starting to fill up. Were any of the people the ones that had been here last night? I didn’t know. The whole thing was honestly a blur. My stomach knotted with anticipation, and I blocked out the onlookers, most of whom seemed to be busy with their own scenes and negotiations, anyway.

My eyes were only for Lennon. My Daddy. He led me to a spanking bench in the center of the room, and gently guided me into position. My heart thundered in my chest, ringing in my ears as I realized how fully exposed and on display I was, but this was still what I wanted. He was perfect and attentive as he fastened first my ankles, then my wrists into place, speaking softly as he knelt by my head.

“I’m here, babygirl. Close your eyes and it's just me and you. Remember your safeword, and don’t be afraid to use it. Occasionally, I might check in and ask you what color you are. Green for all good, keep going, yellow for slow down, I need a minute, and red stops everything.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Now, this isn’t going to be easy. I’m going to do what feels right, and I’m going to make sure that you get everything you need from me tonight so we can put this behind us.”

Forcing a smile, I nodded my understanding.

He brushed a kiss across my lips a moment before I closed my eyes, blocking out the crowd.

“My friends are here,” he told me. “And I know you’re going to get mad at me for saying this, but last chance to back out. We can do this at home. We don’t have to have an audience.”

I didn’t answer because he already knew how I felt. We’d had an audience last night. I deserved to have one tonight. More than that, I needed it.

He must have seen my resolve on my face because he didn't say another word, and pulled himself to his feet, walking around the bench to stand behind me.

I couldn’t see him, or even really hear him with all the din surrounding us in the club, but I could feel his presence giving me strength and encouragement.

“Okay babygirl.” His voice rang through the noisy club, not loud enough for everyone to hear, but loud enough for more than just me. “Why are we doing this scene tonight?”

My breath caught in my throat, and I was sure if my eyes were open, I’d have a deer-in-the-headlights expression. Stupidly, I hadn’t expected a question-and-answer segment. But I pushed the response past my lips. “Because I need it, Sir. I feel terrible for the scene I made last night, and the way I treated you over something we hadn’t ever discussed. I need this lesson so we can move forward without any yucky stuff festering between us.”

“Mmm.” He rubbed his palm across my bottom, and lowered my panties to rest just below the curve of my sit-spots, exposing me while still affording me a modicum of modesty. “I want to thank you babygirl, for your bravery and your commitment to us.”

His sweet, soft-spoken words of affirmation killed the nerves that had been simmering below the surface. He’d told me a million times that I didn’t have to do this, but it meant a lot that he understood and appreciated where I was coming from. I popped my eyes open, twisted my head to gaze at him over my shoulder, and smiled.

I shouldn’t have done that. It gave me a perfect view of the three things he was currently holding. A butt plug, a tube of lube, and a hard wooden paddle. What was it with this man and butt plugs? He had to be more of an ass man than I’d realized, because it seemed to be his go-to move. Still, I was thankful he was sticking to tried-and-true. While I was looking forward to exploring and experiencing even more with him, playing in public in a crowd of strangers was about all the experimenting I could handle for one day.

It only took me about a second to realize that the idea of being plugged and spanked in public was utterly mortifying. What had I signed myself up for? Glancing over at the back booth where his friends were gathered, I quickly remembered why I was doing this. For me. For him. For us. For the sake of making his friends’ second impression of me better than the first.

My face was flaming red, it had to be, and I was pretty sure the rest of me matched. God knew my ass would be soon enough, but I settled in, and waited.

I didn’t have to wait long. I heard Lennon’s smooth-as-honey voice behind me announce that we were starting, and then I felt the tip of the plug pushing against my tight back entrance. Misery and humiliation bloomed in my chest, but I bit my lips and closed my eyes again. My version of grin and bear it.

Maybe Lennon sensed how anxious I was, or maybe, like me, he just wanted to get this over with and put it behind us. Either way, he didn’t waste any time pushing the plug deeper and deeper inside me until it was seated between my cheeks, with only the base sticking out between them.

Then, I felt the cool wood as he rested the paddle against my ass. I whimpered. I hated the wooden paddle, but that was what made it perfect for this. I’d made him uncomfortable and embarrassed with my actions, and I deserved to feel the same.

As soon as the paddle cracked against my ass, the roller coaster of emotions I’d experienced last night and this morning before Lennon had all but broken into my house, demanding we work things out, came back with a whoosh.

I thought I’d cry out from the pain, but I didn’t. I was too far in my feelings. I welcomed it, instead. Each stroke of the paddle brought something new. First the memories I’d kept buried for far too long. Of my father, and then my ex. Anger that they had ruined something for me that I should have been able to occasionally enjoy with friends or with my lover. Regret for how buttoned-up I’d kept my feelings—so much so that I hadn’t shared with Lennon the depth of how strongly my hatred for liquor went, and had somehow just expected him to know. Anger at myself for how badly I’d handled a situation that didn’t have to get out of hand. Lennon had been nothing but kind, loving, and understanding within our dynamic, always seeking to help me work through my issues and bring out a better version of myself. I wanted to do that for him. He said I had, but I couldn’t see that. All I could see was the depths of what he’d given me. And I’d almost ruined it because he’d dared to have some drinks with friends when I hadn’t told him not to. Stupid. A rush of an old familiar feeling—self-loathing—struggled to the surface, but I pushed it back. I’d made a mistake, and I was here getting my ass pummeled in a club full of strangers to atone for said mistake.

Something hot and wet fell onto my cheeks and I realized I was crying. Once the tears started, they wouldn’t stop, but the paddle did.

Lennon paused his assault, rubbing my already tender ass, and said, “Color, baby girl?”

And, oh god. I couldn’t think to answer him. I wasn’t red. I wasn’t green. I just needed a second to breathe. “Yellow,” I croaked out.