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Chapter 5
Merry
The past twenty-fourhours had been a figment of my overactive imagination. I was growing more sure of it by the second. Any moment now, I would come to, probably to find myself surrounded by piles of dog shit in Mr. Harris' yard. Or face down in an eighty-nine cent burrito. Because that was my reality. Not this.
Not the men of my dreams, the two biggest regrets of my life, offering to share me. Wanting to have me together. What did that even mean?
For now, though, whether it was real or not, they were both staring at me expectantly. "I…" Oh, what the hell. Why not? It wasn't real, anyway, and it would make for one hell of a hot dream. "Okay, sure. Whatever." Dream me was no more eloquent than real me, it seemed.
"That's my good girl," Dream Slade murmured sweetly in my ear. I melted.
"A very good choice, baby girl," Blake, or the dream version of him, anyway, spoke in a deep timbre that had shivers racing down my spine. "Stand up then, and lose the jeans."
Slade helped me off his lap, and I fingered the buckle of my belt, while they both looked on.
"Get a move on, baby girl," Blake growled. "Before I do it for you."
That was all the encouragement I needed to have my jeans pooled around my ankles in a hot minute. I quickly stepped out of them and waited for instruction, still half in a state of disbelief. This could not be real life.
Slade made a twirling motion in the air with his finger. "Turn, and bend over the bed."
I obeyed, without thinking, and before I knew it, my panties were puddled around my feet.
"A spanking works best on a bare bottom, baby girl."
My stomach clenched at the familiar turn of phrase. One of Blake's favorites. I realized, in that moment, they were already working as a team, and they had known all along that this was going to happen in exactly this way. I wasn't sure if the thought brought me comfort or made me more nervous than I already was. Both men were capable of delivering one hell of a spanking. This was a fact I knew from experience. The thought of the havoc they could wreak together had my poor bottom clenching in agony, and they hadn't even touched me yet. Was it too late to bow out?
The first blow of flesh against flesh answered the question I hadn't asked, and I recognized the hand as Blake's. How I could pick it out, after all these years, I didn't know, and I didn't have time to ponder, as it fell hard and fast against the center of my bottom, alternating sides with every couple of swats.
"You'll never go forward in life, baby girl, if you are too busy looking behind you at past mistakes." Each word of the powerful edict was punctuated with a hard and punishing blow to my sit spots. The last one knocked the wind from me, and my breath left my lungs in a loud whoosh of air.
"There's a lot to look at back there. All I do is make mistakes," I grumbled under my breath. The swift and hard smack to my thighs told me that I apparently hadn't spoken softly enough.
"Beating yourself up, baby girl? From what I have heard, Daddy doesn't much like that, now, does he?"
The old title brought me to a place of anger, instant and strong. Sure, they could sit here and spank me to aid me in finally letting go of the past. I had consented to that much. But the titles meant something. They spoke of love and old relationships and feelings that ran deep. I didn't deserve a Daddy, and Slade didn't want to be mine.
"Stop," I choked, rolling out of position and glaring at the two men, who stood there looking utterly confused. "Don't toy with me like that. It's just a spanking. You need to give it, as much as I need to receive it, and I am okay with that. But the titles and sweet terms of endearment need to stop. It's not fair. It just hurts and reminds me of everything I fucked up. If you're going to lead me on, I won't be able to take this. It's not fair. We need to put all our cards on the table and agree that this spanking is just a last ditch attempt to clear as much air between the three of us as possible so that we can get through the next few weeks for Nan."
They both stared at me with bewildered looks of confusion as I finished my speech. "It's okay, guys. I get it. This will help us heal, and hopefully, help me forgive myself. Let's just try to keep in mind that it doesn't really mean anything. And not make it into something it's not."
I was fully standing now, watching as they both stood in silence. Slade was shaking his head back and forth, his fingers hooked into his belt loops, looking like he wanted to smack me. Blake was fiddling with the buckle on his belt while he stared at the floor. Neither one spoke.
"Well, are you going to spank me or what?" My hand found my hip, and I stood there glaring, hoping I hadn't managed to ruin even that. I did want this spanking. I just didn't want the illusion that it changed anything, when I knew that it didn't.
I watched as Slade's face darkened with anger, and he stepped towards me. "You, little girl…" he growled "…have a listening problem. So let me spell this out for you. I don't spank women I don't care about. If I spank you, I damn well care enough about you to call you whatever the hell term of endearment I choose. And, at one time, I was your Daddy. In my mind, that never stopped. But I guess, in yours, it did. My mistake."
My hands shook as I stared up at the intimidating figure towering over me. I knew without a doubt the words he spoke were true. Slade didn't lie. Now, I just had to make myself believe them. My mouth opened in question, but the words never formed.
Blake had freed his belt of its buckle and was advancing on me, working the thick worn leather through the loops of his jeans. All the while, his eyes never left mine. When it was free, he folded it in half and shook it in my face. "I ought to take this belt to your bottom right now, baby girl, for the lies you're telling yourself."
I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat at the sight of the worn, familiar leather. "Wh-what lies?"
"What lies?" Slade asked incredulously. "The lie that this is only to do with clearing the air of the past or about making Nan happy, for one."
"The lie that it doesn't make your pussy wet, when we call you our baby girl or little one."
"I'm not yours!" I cried, wishing I could close my eyes and ignore the smoldering looks shooting in my direction. "You don't want me!"
