15. Jaime
FIFTEEN
jaime
“ T his is going to be more of a demo than a proper workshop,” Tony said from the tiny stage the club used for this kind of thing. I squirmed. He’d run me through everything when we’d arrived to set up about an hour ago, but sue me, I was still anxious. I had no idea what had gotten into me when I’d accepted to do this, really. It was so far out of my comfort zone, I might as well be on another continent. “I’ll still answer questions and explain things as I go, but Jaime agreeing to be my spankee today brings us more didactical opportunities. I’ve never spanked them before, or watched them be spanked, which means I don’t know anything about their pain tolerance, limits, or the things they need before, during, or after.”
Ev—full name Everest—raised his hand. He was one of the newer additions to the club. Me and Sergio hung out with him sometimes. Danny, too, when the guy didn’t ditch us to be play-raped by one of his men.
I narrowed my eyes. Ev knew I was anxious about this because I’d met up with him, Sergio, and Kara yesterday. I didn’t usually go to their weekly milkshake dates—because money, and milkshakes didn’t appeal that much—but I’d needed to talk with someone who wasn’t just interested in teasing me about my taste in men.
Cece wasn’t even here. She’d said it would be both weird and boring, and that wasn’t a combination she was interested in. I’d rolled my eyes at her, then. Any other day, I would’ve asked her to come anyway for moral support, but I didn’t know what was up with her yet, so it didn’t feel right to make demands.
But it meant I felt even more exposed now. More raw.
Sergio and Ev were here. Danny and León and their new guy, Carlos, too. Erika and Eli sat on the floor, first row, right at the center. Kara and her Domme, Mónica, were the only ones in our group missing, but that made sense. Impact play was a hard limit for Kara.
Even María was here. She was acting as DM and had already told me a dozen times she was not afraid to go down against Tony. The visual was kind of funny.
She winked when she caught me looking her way.
It was oddly soothing.
“You have a question, boy?”
Right.
Ev had been raising his hand. I crossed my fingers he wasn’t about to throw me under the bus. He was a shy guy, but I admitted I got under his skin a few times too many. If it were me, I’d totally be aiming for revenge.
“Isn’t it unsafe to have your first scene with someone like this?” Ev nearly stammered but managed to get the whole sentence out. A weird sense of pride filled my chest. “I mean, there’s more pressure on Jaime to not make you look bad, isn’t there?”
I frowned.
Tony glanced my way before he addressed Ev again. I breathed out. For a second, I thought he was going to ask that I answer.
“It is riskier, and it wouldn’t be a risk I’d take with a quieter, more service-oriented sub. However, not having spanked Jaime before doesn’t mean I haven’t played or interacted with them. One thing they don’t care the slightest about is how they make me look.” I snorted. It was accurate. “So, it is not a concern in this particular case, but good eye, boy.”
Ev blushed and shrank back. I’d talk with him later. It had been a good question, and I loved that he was getting bolder. A few months back, he’d had a bit of a bad scene. Tony had been DM that night, actually, and helped with the aftermath. I’d been worried it would set Ev back to the meek thing he’d been when we’d first met him.
Right now, I was too caught up in Tony’s presence on the stage. I didn’t miss how he’d started mixing in his pronouns for me more often. There had been an itch under my skin, but I hadn’t been able to put words to it until I’d heard him address me with they/them pronouns today. It lifted a weight that had begun settling on my shoulders.
“Any other questions before we start?”
No one made a sound. I noticed the way Tony’s eyes lingered on Sergio.
I’d made Sergio promise yesterday that he wouldn’t get in the way, no matter what. Apparently, he and Tony had already agreed he could only intervene if it was cleared by Abel, but it was never a bad idea to reinforce shit with him.
“Good.” Oddly enough, Tony hadn’t sounded like he’d be annoyed if there had been more questions. I’d pictured him being grumpier on stage. Must be the professor in him. “Sit down, pup.”
Right.
Enough with the distractions.
Tony was pointing at the couch we’d moved up on stage. I perched on the arm, my eyes on him. As expected, he rolled his eyes. I caught the corner of his lip tilting up before he crowded me, though.
He tugged the hair at the back of my head, standing close enough to have me question my balance on the piece of furniture. “Is this how it’s gonna go, pup?”
My heartbeat started thumping rapidly against my rib cage, but I smirked as if there was nothing out of the ordinary. As if I could fool him. “I’m sitting down, Sir .”
Tony moved his hand from the back of my head to cup my cheek. I frowned. I would’ve expected another tug. Instead, I got the softest tap on the cheek before he sat down on the other side of the couch.
Why did I get shit for perching on the arm of the couch, but he didn’t for manspreading?
Asking for a friend.
“So, you know I don’t like beating around the bush.” Despite the stage, and the audience, Tony kept his eyes on me at all times. He moved his hands to the back of his head. He was wearing the same stupid leather gear from the other day. It did even more stupid things to enhance the muscles in his arms. I huffed out of principle. “Tell me about your experience with impact.”
Of course.
“I’ve been spanked before.” I wrapped my arms around my middle. I was too used to wearing puppy gear when I was at the club. This was a level of exposure I hadn’t expected. “It was light, though.”
Tony grinned. He seemed unperturbed by everything. It was annoying—the fact that this was his turf. “Define light.”
Was this really necessary?
Well, yeah, it was, but it still bothered me.
“As in, my ass would be red after, and maybe it would be sore for a few hours. A day, tops.” I pursed my lips as I considered it. It sounded a bit embarrassing, but the only times I got spanked was by friends who happened to be D-types, and it was for fun. Mostly. “I don’t bruise easily.”
“What evidence do you have of that?” Before I could huff, Tony flexed his arms under the guise of stretching. It was a good distraction all right. “Humor me.”
“I just don’t.” I shrugged. What evidence did he expect I could give him? “Like, the other day when we were playing here? I hit one of the spanking benches during one of my laps?”
“I remember.”
He’d wanted to check in on me then, but I’d just started humping him. “No bruises.”
“Okay.” Tony relaxed the slightest bit. Did people really lie about how easily they bruised or not? I mean, I got people were working through their issues or whatever, but it seemed like an odd thing to lie about. “What about other types of impact? Do you have experience with those?”
Huh.
He really hadn’t been lying when he’d said he didn’t have any intel. That should make me nervous, itchy. It shouldn’t have me sitting up taller.
I’d wonder why that was later. If I remembered to care about it. I wasn’t one to analyze why I was into a certain thing until I was blue in the face with it.
“León might have paddled me once or twice.”
It was years ago, but it had to count for something.
Tony quirked an eyebrow. “And you say you don’t have a high pain tolerance?”
“I take offense to that,” León hollered from the back of the room where he was perched with his men.
I snorted. Tony’s lips twitched.
León admittedly had a reputation for playing hard and heavy. I wouldn’t deny that reputation played a role in why I’d name dropped instead of just saying I had experience with a paddle.
The word, experience, had always seemed funny to me. I understood the need to discuss it, but it made things sound so formal. It felt disingenuous, in a way. Saying I had experience being spanked meant nothing when I’d seen the way others spanked me and the way Tony spanked his subs. Even saying that León had gone to town with a paddle on my ass meant nothing because I knew he’d held back.
There was a point to the questions, and I got it on a theoretical level. On a practical level, I just wanted to get on all fours and get this show started. I was better at adjusting as I went than laying it all out on paper—metaphorical or not.
“I’m waiting on an answer, pup.”
Of course.
“I like the idea of pain, and I’m turned on by watching you, or any of the other Sadists here, but I think I get too in my head to actually follow through.” I gulped. Maybe Ev had had a point—not in regard to my safety or ability to put a stop to things, but talking about this was definitely harder in front of an audience. I was biting off more than I could chew. “Does that help?”
Tony hummed. I watched him. For one thing, it was a nice change that I didn’t have to hide the fact that I was into him. For another, watching him distracted me from everything else going on with my own body.
“It does,” he said. He didn’t elaborate. I scowled. “Fear of the unknown aside, would you say you prefer a thud-like type of pain to a stinging type?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
He pinned me down with just a look. “You guess?”
It was predictable. D-types could be very picky with language. “Yes, Sir. I prefer paddles or hands to whips and floggers.”
The latter just looked too intimidating, even when they were just leather with no attachments or fancy shit.
“What do you prefer about it?”
Tony hadn’t been kidding when he’d said we were going to demonstrate a full-on negotiation. Gosh, I hadn’t gone into as many details about everything since I was vetted by Erika to join the community.
Was it bad? Probably. Did that have to do with why I never played with a Domm for real, outside of group play fun with friends? Yeah, it tracked.
Whatever.
“I don’t like the sound of the whip cracking through the air.” It made me shiver every time—not the kind of shiver that meant I was getting ready for whatever was to come. “And I don’t… I’m not going to explain this right, and you’re going to regret agreeing to this, but whatever. I like the build up of a paddle or a hand. I feel like, with whips, yeah, there’s a build up because warming up is important, but the sting is there from the get-go? With paddles or hands… Yeah, there’s pain, but a whip is hard from the start. A hand is fine at first, and it becomes more as it goes.”
Tony squinted his eyes.
“I’m sure a bunch of your maso friends are gonna have big opinions on what you’ve just said, but…” He scratched his chin while a few of the people watching snickered. It was weird to see him make others laugh. I stood by what I said, but I wasn’t the easily distracted type of sub who would get sidetracked fighting everyone while something else was clearly the priority here. “You’ve just given me all I need to start, and no, I don’t regret inviting you to do this with me.”
There was a pointed look that accompanied that last choice of words.
I swallowed. Tony really was serious about having everyone know this was happening. I was still processing how to respond to it. No one had had such a single focus on me before. It was dizzying.
Wait—
“I have?”
Tony looked way too pleased with himself as he leaned forward. Again, his focus was all on me. It was as if there weren’t at least a dozen people watching. “Get on my lap, and I’ll explain as I go.”
“I thought we were supposed to go over all the fine print or whatever first.”
He smirked. Why was he smirking? “And I remember the faces you pulled when I shared that part of the plan.”
Huh.
Fine, smirking for that reason was acceptable. Plus, getting on his lap, as he’d said, meant less of my body was exposed. Tony had asked for something that didn’t hide my ass cheeks since it was important that people could track the redness and bruising and whatever. It was a perfectly sensible ask, but I was used to having more cover. Right now I was just wearing a latex tank top and sort of a G-string I didn’t remember getting, but it had a pouch so it didn’t make me feel too icky.
It was still better if I was covered by Tony’s body.
“You’re using red, yellow, green, right?”
“Yeah.”
Barking didn’t make sense when I wasn’t wearing my hood or engaging in anything puppy-related. It wasn’t as if I barked because I struggled with verbalizing anything. I just didn’t speak as a pup because puppies didn’t speak the human way, and it was hot—relying on corporality to deliver a message when all I did the rest of the day was talk until my throat hurt.
“And what happens if you start screaming, crying, or telling me to stop?”
I’d been on my way to drape my body over him, but I had to pause to make it clear I didn’t appreciate the question.
The first part of it, at least. “I don’t scream.”
“Okay.” Tony shrugged. “What about the others?”
“Just check in with me.” I squirmed. “Saying stop or crying is like a… yellow-green color? There’s a name for that.”
“Chartreuse,” Tony supplied.
“That one.”
It wasn’t quite praise, but Tony rubbed small circles on my lower back as I got into position, and it felt like praise. It spread the same kind of warmth through my body that a well-placed good pup did.