Chapter Three
Luna
I was still overwhelmed by the recent events that had me sitting in a fine-dining restaurant with the sexiest man I'd ever seen. However, being warm and eating amazing food helped to settle the out-of-control feeling that had been plaguing me since entering the airport back home.
The company was also calming, and I liked the quiet confidence that emanated from Artair.
I wished I had even a little of what he seemed to have in spades.
He was the type of man always in control, not in a nasty way, but more in a possessive way that sparked a host of fantasies for me every time my thoughts wandered, which was frequently.
Still, my question as to why he was spending time with me played in a loop in my head.
I knew he wanted to spank me, and I knew why, sort of, but what was it about me that drew his attention in the first place?
“Will you be having dessert tonight, sir?” Of course, the server directed every question to Artair and not me. This patriarchal attitude reminded me of the in-flight movie, Barbie.
I wasn't entirely sure, as the voices were hard to hear with the crappy headphones they handed out, but from the actions, I'd say Ken got a dressing-down and Barbie a character refresh that screamed of feminism.
Despite liking and agreeing with aspects of the movie, what they failed to ruminate on was the roles all humans find themselves playing.
Ken was blind to what he'd been taught to be.
That was the real patriarchy—the system, or in the movie's example, Mattel, which, admittedly, I found amusing.
Honestly, I didn't care much for bringing down the patriarchy or being a feminist because, despite my issues—and I had plenty—I liked myself and who I was.
I voted for people, with no wish to judge anyone's journey.
I wasn't a fan of labels or choosing one sex over the other.
What I did resonate with was the right to be who you are and be accepted.
In my case, I was still coming to terms with what I wanted and sought acceptance from the people I wanted to be around.
Being with Artair made me feel good; he didn't seem to have an issue with our age gap, financial differences, or even experience.
I wondered if Scottish people, in general, were all so accepting, or if I'd lucked out when I met Artair.
“I, for one, always love dessert,” Artair spoke to our server but was looking at me. “How about you, Luna, do you feel like some plum pudding or cherry cream pie?”
His lips tipped up in a side grin, and I felt heat radiate across my cheeks, and my thighs instinctively snapped shut.
“Did I mention I'm a sucker for suckers?” I replied teasingly.
Both men looked alarmed, and I realized this could be a language thing. “You know, lollipops,” I quickly added.
Artair laughed, and our server cleared his throat. “Bring us one of everything to go,” Artair instructed.
His eyes held mine with a promise that I remembered from the airport. Our server left to fulfill the request, and the air suddenly thickened between us.
“Does this mean I will be receiving my punishment when we go back to my hotel?”
Artair tilted his head slightly to the right. I realized he did this when he debated his answer.
“When I asked you if I could show you my home, you placed a condition on us moving forward. So, in that regard, you hold the power, Luna. Have your conditions been met?”
The question I'd been wrestling with all evening finally blurted out. “Why me? What did I do to get your attention?”
He sat back in his chair and continued to peer at me as if he could see my very soul. I shifted in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable. His intensity both attracted and repelled me. I knew it was a me thing, not a him thing, but it was still there all the same, and I couldn't hide that from him.
“You have ADHD and a little social anxiety. It is difficult for you to hide what you're thinking and feeling, and you also find it hard to fit in.”
Holy crab snacks! I gulped. “Yes, that is true.”
He nodded slowly. “Because of that, you are exactly who and what you are, and I find that refreshing. But I also noted your behavior when you became overwhelmed, and I knew you were in dire need of a Daddy, like me.”
My stomach turned inside out and plummeted, leaving me gasping for breath.
Artair looked concerned. He'd just said my fantasy out loud, something I'd never admitted to anyone, and hearing it spoken so commonly, in the same nonchalant tone one would use to discuss the weather, was too much for me to deal with.
I pushed back my chair, escaping to the bathroom.
Thank goodness no one else was there, because I couldn't hold still.
I fully expected a trench to appear in the floor from my pacing back and forth, with only stops to stare at myself in the mirror as if, somehow, I had answers. I became hyper-aware and didn't know how to handle it, but as there were no answers in the bathroom, I returned to the table.
Artair looked concerned.
“Sorry. I didn't know what to do with what you just said to me.
I still don't. It's like you opened something up, and I can't deal with everything flooding my system.
But... my answer to what we discussed earlier is 'yes.
' You passed my initiation,” I said, trying to backpedal from sounding like a crazy person and hoping he'd understand my sudden disappearance, as well as my ramblings about my mental condition at present.
“I should not have done that to you, Luna. I'm very sorry, but I will make this right, don't you worry, little one.”
Little one? I liked it, but I also liked when he called me lass. Maybe he could call me Little Lass. My heart expanded, and suddenly all the angst just tapered off. I took a few deep breaths, getting my heart rate under control.
Our server arrived with a large bag and the bill, which Artair quickly settled before escorting me out of the restaurant. His car was right out front, and our driver opened the door and took the bag, allowing us to scoot inside. Artair placed me on his lap and rubbed my back.
“Oh, that's nice,” I commented sleepily.
He mumbled soothing words as he continued to palm my back. At the hotel, my sleepiness wore off the minute we stepped out of the car, and I was back to being on high alert. He seemed to feel my hesitation and took me by the hand and up to my room at the tippy-top of the hotel.
Artair placed the bag inside the fridge in my suite.
He took off his coat and held my gaze while he rolled the cuffs of his sleeves a little higher, showing more of his tattoo.
It was indeed a dragon, with a clawed foot on top of a standing sword.
There were words on the hilt of the sword, but not in a language I could read.
He moved to sit on the couch and adjusted the cushions before tapping his lap.
“It's time for that spanking I promised you.”
Energy pinged through me like a ping-pong ball.
My chest rose and fell in quick, staccato beats, matching my breath.
This is so wrong, my head screamed, but oh so right, my lady parts purred.
Whatever. I'd agreed to this already, so swallowing my resistance, I moved until I came to a stop in front of him.
“Good lass. Now, I'll give you the choice to tug your pants down yourself, or have me do it.”
A choice... Did that have significant meaning? How did I know what I chose was right?
“Is this a test?” I needed way more context on how to do this. I'd fantasized about the moment so many times, but in real time, whoa, I was treading in deep water.
“This is not a test, but if it makes you feel better, in offering you a choice, I get to examine your responses. It's the lawyer in me.”
I was surprised he was being so clear in his motivations.
Sometimes in my fantasies, I imagined myself being in a position of dubious consent, like in the mafia-styled romance books I loved to read.
.. The right answer brought rewards, and the wrong answer brought punishment.
But this was pretty straightforward, and my mind was making it more than it was. Except...
“Is this a scene?”
Artair looked genuinely puzzled. “A scene? Like an agreed-upon roleplay type of thing?”
I nodded.
“No. This is for real, Luna. I am a Daddy, about to spank a naughty girl. This is who I am, not just what I do.”
I wasn't entirely sure of the difference but was willing to see where this thing between us was going.
“You have five seconds to decide before your choice is taken away.”
“You. Please.” My face instantly colored with shame.
God, how lame could I be? But he didn't seem to mind.
His eyes had darkened, intensifying the firm, 'you're in trouble' look he'd given me earlier.
What would he say when he saw I didn't wear panties?
Was that an issue? I was still questioning my wardrobe choices when I tumbled face down over his lap.
An oomph escaped me as my nervous belly pressed into his muscular thighs.
He placed one hand on the back of my hips for a moment.
“You think too much, little one.”
Didn't I know it! I drove myself crazy sometimes.
“Yes... Do I say 'Sir' or 'Daddy'?”
“What do you wish to say?”
More choices, but a good question. Daddy felt way more forbidden and dirtier than Sir, which reminded me of the server earlier.
“Daddy.”
“Good girl. Now lift your hips for Daddy.”
I did, and he tugged my pants down my thighs until they slipped past my ankles and pooled on the floor. He adjusted me forward so my ass was centered, then tapped my thighs apart.
Cool air immediately hit my hot, wet pussy, and I couldn't contain the groan.
“You're excited for your first spanking, I see.”
My face colored again. Wait, how did he know it was my first?
As if reading my mind, he said, “Remember, your face tells me your truth. I could tell it was your first when I said that at the airport.”