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“That’s what happened to me, too.”
“You didn’t want to have sex?”
“I wasn’t saving myself, if that’s what you mean, but I’m a bit enamored with you, Zoey. Nobody else really compares. That’s beginning to be a bit of a problem as far as my dick is concerned.”
She laughed loudly, throwing her head back, and then she grabbed me and hugged me. I hugged her back, of course, and I spent a moment just breathing her in. She felt so good in my arms. She felt right. This felt right. Zoey looked up at me, and I claimed her mouth in a soft kiss. It was short and sweet, but I felt like it said everything I wanted to. Finally, I nodded.
“All right, princess. I’ll spank you.”
“Here?”
“Here.”
“In front of everyone?”
“Is that what you want?”
I wasn’t one of those dominants who was bossy. At least, I didn’t like to think of myself that way. Sometimes, if I was with someone who was into hardcore BDSM and wanted someone who would tell them how everything was going to be, then sure, I could boss my partner around. BDSM was all about a mutual meeting of needs, after all. Right now, though, I wanted to be the partner that Zoey needed more than anything else. The partner she needed tonight was someone who would listen to her needs and then provide for her in that way.
She thought about it for a minute, but then she nodded.
“Yes,” she finally said. “That’s what I want.”
“You want everyone to watch me pull your skirt up and spank you until you cry?”
“Is that what you’re going to do to me?”
“Yes,” I said. She was right when she said that she’d been naughty. I wasn’t without fault, and I fully planned on making it up to her. This was what she needed to feel better, though. I understood that. Many times in life, even if you felt like you’d made something up to another person, you hadn’t. Not really. Not until there was some sort of give and take. People didn’t like to consider the idea of “punishment” because it was punitive and patriarchal, but sometimes it had its place. Receiving a spanking, even a public and slightly embarrassing one, could be cathartic.
“Okay,” she nodded. Then Zoey took my hand and gave it a little squeeze. I understood her well enough to know that there was a lot contained in that gentle pressure. She was telling me that she trusted me. She was telling me she cared about me. Most of all, she was telling me that she was excited about everything we were about to do.
It was wildly exciting, wonderfully erotic, and I couldn’t wait to get started.
12
Zoey
I was a fool.
Shit.
I realized halfway to the empty stage that I didn’t really want this. Not really. Not like this. Did I want a spanking? Yes. Totally. I wanted a spanking. Had I scened before? Also, yes. Also, with spankings and sometimes without. Playing at the club was a safe way to express yourself sexually. It was the kind of place where you could have sex and explore your kinks without suffering any social consequences, but right now...
Well, now I was starting to panic.
I was walking around Classified with David Walker: sex god. I was walking around the club like it was no big deal that I was with him, only it was a big deal. He was a big deal. He had the power to save me or break my heart, and I didn’t know which it was going to be. Was David going to make me soar? Or was he going to crush my soul?
We made it to the stage. It was empty, which meant that anyone was allowed to use it. You didn’t have to reserve stages at Classified. Sometimes, a club made you make reservations in order to perform a scene. Other clubs only let specific people perform. It was a way of making sure the club catered to a certain clientele. If a club brought in a couple of popular Doms, for example, they might want the stage to be just for those people.
Classified had no such policy. Anyone could play on any stage, provided it was empty and had been cleaned prior to use. We paused beside the side, and David looked down at me. He cupped my face. It was a tender gesture he had used many times with me, and it never felt any less wonderful. When he touched me like this, I felt totally safe. I felt like everything in the world was going to be just fine as long as he kept touching me.
“Please don’t stop,” I whispered.
“Zoey,” David said my name like it was a damn promise. How did he manage to do that? And why was I so crazy about him?
“Yes?”
“Are you sure about this?”
