Lanie's Lessons Read online

  With the next item checked off their list it was on to the fun stuff—lingerie. Having selected several jewel-toned bra and panty sets, Lanie was flipping through a rack of sexy nighties. As she eyed a plum satin and lace appliqued sheath that Ethan would love, Beth came up to her with an armful of pink chiffon.

  “Jackpot!” she gushed. “I freakin’ love this store. Look what I found.” She held up at least four frothy baby doll nighties with matching panties. At a glance, Lanie saw they were sweet, innocent by Victoria’s Secrets standards, and full of ribbons and ruffles.

  “Cute. Is childlike innocence the look you’re going for?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Daddy is going to love them.”

  Lanie’s eyes shifted to her friend’s face in surprise and her jaw dropped, closed, only to fall open again the next moment. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask for clarification. Daddy? Had she heard correctly? Beth went on raving about her finds, not having realized she’d left her friend stunned and all but rendered speechless.

  “I have a pair of satin T-strap cutie-pie Mary Janes that will go perfect with these.” She glanced up at Lanie. “What?”

  “Um, nothing, honey.” Lanie went back to the rack trying to put Daddy and cutie-pie shoes together.

  “No,” Beth pushed, “it’s definitely something. You’ve got a funny look on your face.” There was a long pause. “Oh dear, I thought Ethan would have told you.”

  “Told me what?”

  “About me and Steven…” She leaned in and whispered, “We’re kind of kinky.”

  “Okay.” That pretty much confirmed that she hadn’t mistaken “Daddy” for something else. Her mind flew through the possibilities, which instantly brought back memories of last weekend’s activities. “That reminds me. Ethan says I’m supposed to thank you for suggesting role-play, but did you have to recommend spankings? That hurts, Beth.”

  “That means Ethan is doing it right, honey.” She grinned at her broadly, nudging her with a hip. Then she let out a dramatic sigh and pantomimed wiping the sweat from her brow. “Phew. I’m glad you’re cool about the age play. I thought I put my foot in it for a minute. I usually don’t let those sort of things slip out. It tends to make people freak. And believe me, I know. It’s cost me friends.”

  “Uh… wait. Age what?”

  “Age play.” She said that louder than intended and got some odd looks. “I thought you knew. What were you talking about?”

  “Spanking and role-play,” Lanie replied. “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh!” Beth pulled a face as her cheeks pinkened. “Never mind, it’s nothing.”

  “Oh no! This time you have the funny look on your face. Spill!”

  “Okay… um, sometimes, well, it’s actually often, Steven plays my daddy and I’m his little girl.”

  Lanie blinked. She’d heard about things like that, mostly in a joking manner, or surrounded by whispers and giggles. Although she hadn’t put much thought into it before, her curiosity was piqued. A million questions swirled around in her head, but she had no idea what to ask first, or how.

  “Do you think it’s weirdly perverted? Are you going to freak out now?”

  Thinking about how Ethan had spanked her bare behind just days ago, she realized her freak scale had completely changed. “Beth, honey,” she reassured, “I’m the last one to judge what is weird. What you do with your husband in the privacy of your own bedroom is not for me to judge, especially after what Ethan and I got into last weekend.”

  “Oh boy! This I gotta hear. However, I think we should talk about this somewhere more private.” She nodded her head toward two middle-aged women at the next rack who were staring at them with mouths gaped open. Beth wrapped her hand around Lanie’s arm and began to tow her toward the register. “Let’s go pay. It’s time for some girl-talk. The question is do we do it over ice cream or alcohol?”

  Alcohol won without question.

  So, over raspberry mojitos and a platter piled high with diet destroying loaded nachos, Beth gave Lanie an introductory tutorial on age play. Just as she and Ethan were embarking on a journey into power exchange and role-play to address a problem in their relationship, so had she and Steven. It had begun early in their marriage and since it had worked so well for them, it became an integral part of their marital dynamic. Although they explored many different avenues of play, one theme emerged as their preference, with Steven as the daddy and Beth his little girl.

  Shocked, but fascinated, and aided in no small part by mojito number one, Lanie’s questions rolled out. “So how does it work, exactly? You mentioned power exchange; tell me about that. Ethan had me submit for no more than an hour and it was very intense. Do you do it other times or is it solely for play?” She stopped suddenly, realizing her mouth was running a mile a minute. “I’m sorry. I’m just so curious. Maybe this is all too personal.”

  “I don’t mind telling you, Lanie, though it is very personal. Like I said, some folks get kind of tweaked when they hear about playtime, especially bath time and dress up.”

  Lanie grinned. “Bath time sounds fun.”

  “It is. I love being cared for and nurtured, and Steven is so good at it. He makes the best daddy. And somehow, it works for us. We both get what we need from the power exchange.”

  “Being cared for sounds wonderful too. I’m happy that you have that, honey. Though I have to say, I’m surprised. You seem so independent and the two of you together, well, you’re the most grounded couple I know.”

  “I think the age play is the reason for that.”

  Lanie slurped the last of her drink rudely, not having any idea she had sucked it down so fast. She poked at the remaining ice in her glass as she considered what Beth had told her. Her thoughts kept returning to Ethan, about how he’d taken control and spanked her, and all the deliciously wonderful things that had followed. Somehow, he’d known what she needed.

  She looked over at her friend, who also seemed lost in thought. “How did you discover that you had this specific need?”

  “Steven and I have always been adventurous sexually,” Beth answered candidly. “He is also naturally dominant and, to be frank, obsessed with my hind parts. A self-proclaimed dyed in the wool, ass man.”

  “Sounds familiar,” Lanie remarked.

  Beth nodded her understanding as she continued, “Put those traits together and, of course, there were spankings, which led to words like naughty girl and little girl, which led to me being a brat and him taking on more of a parental role. We took it to the next level and it intensified from there. We don’t do it all the time and still explore other kinds of play, but we always seem to gravitate back to Daddy Steven and little Beth where we are most comfortable.”

  The waitress came with another round and conversation halted. When she left, they sipped their drinks in silence for a moment.

  “Although it started out that way, it’s not about the sex, really,” Beth added, as if to herself. “Although some of it really gets me going. It’s more about the exchange of power. His dominance compels me to submit; it completes me.” Beth’s eyes rose to her and with a tilt of her head she sought validation. “You’re quiet. You think it’s weird, don’t you?”

  “Of course not. I’m just trying to take it all in. I also have to be honest and admit that my mind is running wild with fantasies. The teacher/student kind, in particular. I suppose being in a position of power, a psychologist and a professor, it comes natural to Steven, like it does with Ethan.”

  “Definitely. I have to admit I have several plaid skirts in my closet. Those scenes are lots of fun. However, when Dr. Anderson sets his mind to it and puts on his psychoanalytical Freudian hat, things can get very real.”

  “How so? I don’t understand.”

  “Several years back, I was going through a very stressful period. My dad passed away suddenly and my younger sister, who was seventeen at the time, came to stay with us for a while.”

  “Oh, honey…”

&n
bsp; “Yeah, it was tough. Steven was very supportive, but it messed me up. I’m the oldest of four girls. Our mother passed when I was only nine and as the eldest, I became a surrogate mother of sorts. With Dad at work, the three younger girls looked to me to take care of them, so I had to grow up fast. When my sister came to stay, it was like with my mother, all over again. Steven had some clinical term for it, something about unresolved grief—blah, blah, blah. He can go on and on for days with his psychobabble. Whatever.”

  Beth rolled her eyes and tossed back the dregs of her drink. Lifting her empty glass to the waitress, she signaled for round three.

  “We’ll have to call the guys for a ride if we have another.”

  “Yeah, Steven says I should limit myself to two drinks when in public. He’ll be upset.” Beth winked at her. “Isn’t that a shame?”

  “You are a brat.”

  “I’ve been called that before, no surprise.” Another mojito appeared in front of them as they laughed. When the server left, Beth looked at her blankly. “Where was I?”

  “Psychobabble, I believe.”

  “Oh, yeah. After Dad passed, my sister stayed with us for about six months until she graduated and was off to college. During that time, Dr. Anderson became concerned with my lack of grieving. I hadn’t cried for Dad, you see. As with my mother, I threw myself into my responsibilities for my family, thereby suppressing my grief, which got me stuck in one of the stages of grief, most likely denial. I never worked through the other stages, especially anger. His treatment plan was to have me deal with my unresolved issues and emotions, rediscover my inner child, and move on.” She blinked at Lanie, glassy-eyed. “See, psychobabble mumbo jumbo.”

  “It seems to make sense, though.”

  “It did, but at the time, I thought it was farfetched, especially when he suggested—no, that’s the wrong word, insisted is more like it. He insisted on pushing little Beth and regressed her all the way back to baby Beth. To start from the very beginning, he said, for a total power exchange weekend. It was a four-day weekend; I’ll have you know. Immersion therapy, he called it.” She shrugged. “Whatever the term, it worked. Without being too explicit, day one was devoted to baby Beth, full of—if you can believe it—pacifiers, bottles, cuddles and nap time. There were also lots of spankings and tears. At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it all and resisted. I kind of panicked and he had to convince me to give it a try.”

  “Did you?”

  Beth’s vivid red cheeks were answer enough, although she put it into words, very funny words. “Of course, I did. The man could coax the panties off a nun.”

  Lanie snorted, then she giggled, which soon transformed into a full out belly laugh that brought tears to her eyes. “Sorry, honey, but the visual of Steven and a pantiless nun after three mojitos… It got to me.”

  Beth joined in, not at all uptight about the conversation, despite the subject matter. When they received several curious looks, they tried to stop, but that brought on more shrieks of laughter. Spluttering helplessly, Lanie held her aching ribs. Gasping for breath, she managed, “Please, go on.” before mimicking zipping and locking her mouth.

  “Can you handle a fourth?” Beth asked while she lifted her glass. Lanie nodded vigorously while wiping the tears from her face with her napkin as she tried to settle. Beth flagged down the waitress yet again.

  Once they had refills, she continued. “Day two was school age Beth. We had a tea party, played games and I colored. All the things I loved to do before my mom died. Of course, we had dress up. He brought along the cutest yellow polka dot pinafore and white patent leather shoes. He did my hair in braids—I love when he brushes my hair—there were more cuddles and naturally more spankings and tears ensued.” She sighed dramatically with a dreamy-eyed expression. “So it was a very good day.”

  This prompted another giggle from Lanie and an eye roll from Beth. “How old are you, young lady?”

  “Sorry,” Lanie said, as she rubbed her aching cheeks.

  “Day three was high school complete with a cheerleading outfit, which I suspect was more for Steven than for me. I was never a cheerleader, but I let him have his little fantasy. We even had a first date—a car date—at an old drive-in. I didn’t realize those things existed anymore. Steven played my date for that part, got fresh and we ended up in the back seat. My comeuppance came from Daddy Steven when I got home.” Her dreamy-eyed gaze became serious as she looked at Lanie. “It was wonderful, Lanie. By the end of the weekend I felt free.”

  “What happened on day four?”

  “We didn’t play any that day and still, it turned out to be the best day of all. We cuddled, kissed, talked and made love, as the real Steven and Beth. All weekend I had poured out my emotions, which was exhausting, and that last day, Steven helped me process it all. He really is very good at his job. He got me to talk about my grief and resentment, and the anger I felt toward my mother for leaving us, for leaving me to pick up the pieces. I ranted about all the times I needed her in high school—first date, first boyfriend, first time getting dumped by said boyfriend, first period—and how I had to figure everything out on my own.” She blinked, as tears threatened. “I cried for my Mom, Lanie, which was years in coming. Although it was fast, we recreated what I had missed and during those days, I was totally immersed in being a child in the loving hands of my daddy husband. I learned to surrender to him, completely in those few days and since then I’ve never questioned my need for it again. Neither of us has.”

  Lanie sat back and let it all sink in. “I never would have guessed it could be—”

  “Therapeutic?” Beth suggested.

  “Powerful,” Lanie breathed.

  “Yeah, me either. Until that weekend, I thought it was simply kinky play. Maybe it is for most people, but with Steven it’s so much more.”

  “Ethan has suggested we use role-play to help me deal with my stress. I tend to suppress things, like you did, although my issues aren’t nearly as tragic.”

  “I know, honey. That’s why I had Steven suggest it.” Beth reached across the table and squeezed Lanie’s hand. “Sometimes you’re wound as tight as a top, Lanie, and I worry one day, if you don’t learn to let it out, you’ll snap. Trust Ethan and give it a chance. If it worked for me, I’m sure it can for you too.”

  “I don’t think I could do that, Beth. The regression, I mean. Not that I see anything wrong with it and for you it worked. I’m just not sure that’s for me.”

  “I’m not suggesting Ethan diaper your ass, honey. You need to do what feels right for you.” She let go of her hand and leaned back. “Baby Beth isn’t my favorite, but she served her purpose. I much prefer somewhere between six and eight years old. Playing the bratty high school girl is a lot of fun too, and Big Beth likes baby doll nighties and getting busy in Daddy’s big bed. Maybe age play isn’t for you at all. I’m telling you what worked for me. You might find spanking does it for you alone, or maybe a little bondage, flogging, or who knows what else. It’s different strokes for different folks, as they say.”

  Beth’s phone rang and vibrated on the table. They both glanced at the display and saw “Daddy calling.” Tipsy on rum and raspberries, they both laughed inanely, as if they were caught gossiping at school.

  “Speak of the devil.” Beth was still giggling as she answered. “Hey, baby.”

  Thinking she should call Ethan, Lanie fished around in her bag for her phone.

  “Yeah,” Beth told Steven, “we’re well past the legal limit and will need a ride.”

  Finding her phone, Lanie tried not to listen to the one-sided conversation as she looked at the display. She had two missed calls from Ethan. Uh-oh.

  “Okay, I’ll tell her.” Giving Lanie a sad smile of sympathy, she pulled the phone away and said, “Ethan called Steven when you didn’t answer.” Steven must have said something because she turned back to her phone. “We’re at Cheers.” She paused to listen. “Okay. See you in twenty.” Another pause, before she answer
ed, “I love you too, Daddy.”

  “That is so sweet,” Lanie breathed after she’d hung up.

  “Yeah,” Beth sighed. She eyed Lanie with a silly grin. “Uh, Lanie? Are you going to use your phone to call Ethan, or hold it to your ear all night? Did you even dial?

  Looking at the display, Lanie scoffed at herself; it was still on the main screen. She swiped her thumb and located Ethan’s name.

  “He must be worried to have called Steven. Will he be mad, do you think?”

  “He knew we were going out.” It rang once before Ethan answered.

  “Lanie.” His deep voice, smooth like glass, greeted her. He didn’t sound upset, just relieved. “I was getting concerned when you didn’t answer.”

  “Sorry, honey. There’s a lot of noise and I didn’t hear it ring. Forgive me?”

  “Baby… I only wanted to check in. How many have you had?”

  “Three, no, I’m on my fourth actually. Steven is coming to get us.”

  “Good.” He paused. “Are you drunk or tipsy?”

  She giggled. “Somewhere in between.”

  “Make that the last one. I want you loose when you get home, not sloppy drunk. I haven’t had halfway between tipsy and drunk Lanie in a good long while.”

  “Ethan.” She whispered his name getting all tingly and excited inside.

  “Yeah, baby. I’m looking forward to it too. See you soon.”

  When she disconnected she looked at Beth, who winked and guessed, “Drunk sex tonight?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Steven. He can hardly wait. So if he doesn’t come to a complete stop in your driveway, be prepared to tuck and roll.”

  The two friends burst into gales of silly laughter, drawing more curious looks and some amused smiles from the other patrons. They were still giddy when Steven collected them ten minutes later.

  Chapter Five

  With her small box of belongings in hand, which were appallingly few after four years in the same office, Lanie punched the elevator button for the third time. As she waited impatiently for the exceptionally slow car, she eyed the door to the stairwell. She considered the idea briefly, but it was quickly discarded. Fourteen floors in heels—uh, maybe not.