Nicholas and Linn

This is a story about a couple in a D/s dynamic finding out who they are with growing elements of Ageplay, or specifically, a Daddy Dominant and Little dynamic. All characters are consenting adults.

The main character is based on me; I started this story for a friend but was getting some great feedback from other friends who encouraged me to share. Constructive criticism always welcome, I'm not a Daddy Dom and I want this to be an authentic story.

Special thanks go to Robert, Trish, Criss and many others who helped me.

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Main characters

Nicholas (Nick) James

Willo Linden (Linn) Hart

Stephen (Steve) and Helen (Lena) Frasier

(Stephen is Nicholas' best friend from college, Lena becomes Willo's friend and mentor.)

Friday

*****

"Please be ready for me to pick you up at 5.30 PM for the cocktail party. Can't wait to see your surprise."

My heart thumped every time I glanced down at my phone. That was the last text Nicholas sent, 20 minutes until the appointed time. One last look in the mirror; I splurged a bit on my outfit.. but it was just the right find, complimenting the colors I know you intend on wearing to your business partner's cocktail party. Tonight I want to make an entrance for you. It's so rare that I splurge and get myself something new; I've really had to save my pennies the past couple of months. But Nicholas is more than worth it.

I arrange two smaller braids on either side of my head, meeting in a small ponytail over most of my free flowing hair. Just as I smooth my skirt down after arranging my garter belt (Nicholas felt that pantyhose were unflattering, so, I found myself getting my 1st pair of garters at 34 years old!) I hear your car pulling into the parking lot.

You're wearing a dark suit, white shirt and bold maroon tie... dapper as always. Your dark hair frames your face and a kind expression always gleams behind those brown eyes.

At first glance my black velvet cocktail dress, one that flourishes just a small amount in the skirt and stops above my knees, doesn't seem that fancy. Upon closer inspection you notice the maroon lacing around the dress and nod your approval with a smile growing on your face.

You reach into my hair, take a firm grasp to tilt my head up and kiss me. That move always makes me go a bit weak in the knees. As you pat my bottom, I squirm a little and you chuckle.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart."

"Thank you." I smile softly at you. "Oh! The best part, watch this!"

I spin twice around and reveal a slit up the side of the skirt and a dusky rose slip underneath. Smiling, I return to your embrace and soon feel your hands under my skirt. I glance around quickly, but no one else is in the parking lot. Mrs. Burkett in the next apartment might be getting a little show, but just the thought that we might be seen makes me press my body into yours, half in excitement and half almost hiding into your chest. You start patting my bum again until suddenly I feel you bring your hand down with a firm swat.

I gasp and hold on to you for a bit of balance, and quickly the warmth on my bottom spreads into tingles. I moan in appreciation.

"Thank you," I purr into your ear. I feel you trace your fingers along the garter belt, then you turn me around and lean me back carefully into your arms. I feel your hand patting my pussy. I moan with just a single layer of silk between your fingers and my labia.

"I want you to remember exactly how this feels.." you growl slowly, then swat my pussy three times. I gasp from the surprise, but start to moan and melt to the tingles that leaves me with. I look back at you with a smile, leaning into your loving arms.

"I like the way that feels."

"Do you now.." you reply, rubbing the slight sting into tingles. "If you're a good girl tonight, we'll continue later with some privacy."

I grin up at you and whisper, "I'm always a good girl!"

You raise your eyebrows but stay quiet and nudge me upright. I turn back around and smooth my skirt.

Soon we are pulling off the highway into Stephen's neighborhood.

Knowing Stephen and the clients who are coming tonight, you tell me that the drinks will continue to flow into the wee hours of the morning.

One of the first things you taught me was to keep our drinks to a minimum. "As others loosen their tongues," was all you had to say.

Just as you were telling me about our plans for tonight, my phone alerts me to a new text message. I check quickly and my eyes open wide. A close friend of mine, Tracie, was just admitted into hospital. I can't hide my look of concern as thoughts race through my mind.

'There has to be a solution,' I think, 'that will have me where I'm supposed to be tonight..' I start tapping nervously on the back of my phone while I think. '..but maybe I'll be able to grab a chance to slip away for a little bit and make a phone call?'

Not that it's an emergency, but this is the friend who taught me nearly everything I know about patient advocacy.

'She doesn't sleep well so maybe I could try to call later? For some strange reason I thought this party would end before the evening stretched into night.'

"Uhm.. Sir?" I start with my I'm not sure if your gonna like this.. tone of inquiry.

You raise an eyebrow and look at me as you come to a stop at a red light. "I didn't realize how late tonight is going, and Tracie is just being admitted into the hospital. She must be frightened. May I make a phone call tonight, or do you need me to wait?"

You think for a moment, then say, "I will give you 10 minutes of privacy at 10p, but then I need you back inside with me, please."

"Thank you so much for understanding!"

"Of course, Willo, I couldn't expect you to support my career if I didn't, also, support you at yours." You pull into Stephen's driveway and turn off the vehicle. "Oh, by the way, I arranged for some food that will suit your delicate stomach."

A tingle goes down my arms and I start to feel overwhelmed by your attention to my needs.

"Thank you, Love, you surprise me at every turn."

"Are you ready? Do you need a moment?"

"I'm ready for you. Let's go get 'em!"

I take your outstretched hand and you lead me inside. People surrounding us immediately stop their conversations.

"Mr. James, so good to see you!"

"Nicholas, it's been so long! And who is this you brought?"

"Nicholas! Who is this beautiful creature you have tonight?"

You smile at the gathering crowd and introduce me first to a woman named Gloria Walker and next to her a man named Randy Makin, the one who made the "beautiful creature" comment, but quickly tell him, "Don't go getting any ideas, Randy, this young woman is mine."

I grin up at you, tingling as you call me "yours."

"Indeed, Nicholas is a lucky man," a voice says from behind the crowd. People move aside and Stephen smiles with his glass of tequila. "Welcome to our home, Willo, please make yourself comfortable."

"Thank you, Stephen."

"May I take I your coats?" Lena asks from beside her husband. I've gotten to know Stephen and Helen from a few lunch meetings. But this is the first time I've been invited to their beautiful home. I look around in amazement at the artwork hanging on the walls, the way the rooms flow into another. "It's stunning..." I murmur, looking around, not aware that you are solely responsible for the design.

We begin to move around the rooms, saying hello to everyone, and you quietly tell me about the folks I've never met before tonight.

I know how to look the part, by now I even know some of the architectural language you use with clients and junior partners alike.

My hidden talent is being able to remember who prefers scotch or whisky, whose partner is named what, and if they have kids.. those small details that can make all the difference at anything from a fundraiser to a business party. I can keep a conversation going on nearly anything with ease.. which is why Stephen, your partner, loves it when we work clients together. "A winning team, you two could close any deal!" we often hear from him.

These talents are what have made me a successful patient advocate for people who are tick bite victims, like me. My entire adult life I have never known what it's like to have a healthy body without a care in the world. I have to watch what I eat, watch what I do.. all because of two tiny insects when I was 17 years old. I have disability coverage, and therefore do not hold a "regular" job, but supporting other people in the community with my heart and soul, not just money, can be the best feeling. Plus it takes a lot more than a "normal" job would, just in different ways.

Though it sounds elite to be called an advocate, I really just help other patients by being there for them, helping them with my experience. I do have dreams to start one of our area's first NPOs (non-profit organizations) for tick-borne infections.

All of those plans, though, take a back seat to my own health, which sometimes gets the better of me. It's sufficient for what I do right now, but my brain and body can easily become overwhelmed...

I explained all of this to Nicholas when we first met. He donated his talents to design and build a house for a patient friend of mine, someone who had been made homeless by the effects of the illnesses.. so he knew exactly what he was doing when he asked me to join him for dinner that evening, and continued to ask all kinds of personal questions throughout the meal.

I was surprised, genuinely, that here was someone who was asking what exactly did a bad day entail for me, what do I do for the many things that could go wrong.. and he didn't go running for the hills. It made him more protective of me and for a couple of weeks he would call and check up on me regularly; on how my patient was doing in his new house, how am I feeling? Am I taking care of myself? ..finally we both realized we had a magnet pulling us closer together, and let nature take its course.

Being equally driven to help our community has made Nicholas and I a well known couple in our area. What people are always surprised at is the fact that we act very much like an old-fashioned couple with very modern ideas, and no one guesses at the age difference between us.

Though our relationship is still short by many standards, I adored Nicholas from the moment we met, and I knew he felt much the same way. We just seem to always work in perfect syncopation.

In private we talk of an old fashioned connection - which I enjoy, even blossom under. When I feel strong, he bolsters me. When I feel weak, his presence always gives me strength. I have a lot of respect and affection for Nicholas. Under many circumstances, calling him Sir feels natural and pure. He always has an affectionate name for me, and has never made me feel less than special and cherished.

We set to work easily, and before I know it you are reminding me about the time.

"Ladies and Gentlemen if you would excuse us for a few minutes please, Willo has a quick phone call to make."

You bring me into Stephen's study and then run your hand gently down my cheek.

"Okay baby, 10 minutes only, please. I'll see you back out there soon."

But time quickly gets away from me, and I was laughing at something Tracie told me when I could suddenly feel someone watching me. I turn around and see you frowning. You point to your watch.

I look, then my eyes shoot open wide.

10:40 PM.

"Tracie, honey.. I'm.. I'm so sorry," I start, trying my best to read the expression on your face.

Not pleased, doesn't even begin to describe it.

"I really need to go.. but I hate to hang up like this.."

She assures me that it's all right, we hang up and I slowly start to walk to you. I look down, unable to meet your gaze. My poor tummy doesn't know whether to leap up or sink down.

"Look at me, Miss Linden."

Your sharp voice stops me in my tracks and I gulp. You lift my face so I fully meet your gaze. I feel fire in your eyes for the first time; you have my full attention! But, this is different. I make no mistake reading your frown.

'This is not good at all.'

"Do you remember when we first started dating that we had a talk about my old fashioned ways? You said that you enjoyed them, did you not?"

"Yessir.." I whisper.

"And that in our relationship, I'm in charge. I even told you the story of a former girlfriend and how I spanked her for going against my wishes. You said you were okay with that, and that you wanted me to head our relationship."

My eyes open more and more wide as I realize how oddly calm you are.

"So I warn you to choose your words carefully for the next few minutes, Miss Linden. I did not want to interrupt the evening for us or our host, so I allowed you ten minutes to talk with your friend. Do you know how I felt, as more and more people asked where you had disappeared to?"

A tear slips down my cheek, but I can't look away and I don't dare to say anything else yet.

"Would you like me to take you home and allow you a month or so to contemplate the chance of a future together?"

You pause for effect, and it works. I gasp and my tummy feels like it's going to tie itself up in knots. My lower lip begins to quiver, more tears fall and I start shaking my head.

"Or... you can accept your punishment, and apologize to me and our host when we find the right time tonight."

After a long, quiet pause, I whisper, "I'm so sorry, Sir."

"Well then, young lady, you're about to receive a sound spanking from me."

A bewildered look comes over my face.

"I.. I thought you were kidding about the spanking."

With a wry smile on your face, and while shaking your head slowly, you respond,

"No, young lady, I wasn't. I'm very serious. We both made ourselves quite clear in our early talks. I have my ways and they are firm. You are a reliable companion and in turn I have gladly given you my time, and endorsement for your future dreams. But, I will not tolerate any misbehaviour from my partner. Do I make myself clear?"

My faint "yes sir" with eyes downcast tells you everything you want to know. You take me by the hand and walk me over to Stephen's chair. Just when I think you're going to sit down, you open up the top left drawer and pull out a flat wooden hairbrush. My eyes shoot open wide and tears immediately start flowing freely.

'And we haven't even started yet!'

After what seems like an eternity as you look at the brush and then place it on the desk, I hear, "Let's get this over with."

I look at you with a touch of confusion.

"You're going to spank me with that? H-here?" I squeak.

"I will indeed, but only after you get a good warm up with my hand. The brush will not last long, but long enough for me to make sure you have learned a good lesson."

"But..."

"One more question," you interject. "and remember, choose your words carefully, little girl.." you warn. I feel the sting of your words and look down, scoffing my shoe on the carpet.

"Well.. uhm.. H-how.. did.."

I take a deep breath and spit it out:

"How did you know that there was a big-scary-wooden-hairbrush in there?" I can't help but whine and look at you for some mercy.

With that same wry smile you explain, "I designed this house, little one. Steve discussed the need for a study that is soundproof, and of course he told his best friend where he keeps his punishment brush. On occasion, he takes his wife over his knee, and through all their years of marriage their children never heard a thing. And by the look on your face, I know what you're wondering. The answer is yes, both Stephen and Helen know exactly why neither of us will return for a little while yet."

With shock and embarrassment on my face, you sit down and pull me over your lap. I gasp and find myself suddenly staring at the wooden floor. My skirt gets lifted above my waist and panties get tugged down. Without hesitation you begin to spank my poor unmarked cheeks, beating out a steady tempo.

You've spanked me before.. but in bed. That was always lots of fun.

'This.. this is not fun.'

I whimper, but something tells me not to fight. You settle into a rhythm and keep steadily spanking. My feet begin to sway as the heat registers. I whimper and without thinking kick my legs. You respond with a few sharp slaps on my thighs. I yelp and press my face into your leg quickly, allowing a small whimper to trickle out.

"You don't have to hide, no one can hear you from outside this room. I intend on hearing you do much more than whimper, little girl."

The next part of your scolding you punctuate nearly every other word with the spanking.

"When I say 10 minutes, I expect you back out in that time young lady, not to be waiting for a further 30 minutes before having to retrieve you like a naughty schoolgirl."

You pick up your pace. My whimpers turn into yelps. Amidst it all something comes over me. Tears fall down my face and I start to beg,

"I'm so sorry I lost track of time! Please, l'll be a good girl, I promise, Sir! Please.."

Tears flow freely and I start to find myself going limp, but my mind is churning in many directions.

'I never said these things when I was a little girl, why would it come to mind so easily now?'

That's when you pause for a moment, pick up the hairbrush and tap it on my already red behind. I try to catch my breath. You surprise me, and instruct me to count out each one.

I whimper, "Please," but immediately you kick your leg up to raise my backside higher and you swing the brush down, first on the right cheek then the left, then the middle, then directly on the low sit spot.

4, 8... 32... 64...

You repeat that pattern over and over again moving only slightly to make sure you cover my backside from top to bottom. Trying to count out the swats, I yelp out apologies and beg for it to stop.. but it keeps on going until I break down into soft sobs, unable to continue counting.

"Are you ready to be a good girl?" you ask without stopping.

"Yes Sir!" I sniffle and to my relief you put the brush down on the desk. I cry out a few more times as you finish the spanking with your open palm, but I'm too exhausted to do much else. I just lay like a rag over your lap.

Finally the punishment stops and you start rubbing my flaming cheeks. As the sobbing quiets to crying, you pull my panties back up, smooth my skirt, pat my rear a couple of times... and then you lift me upright on your lap so you can hold me as I bury my face in your chest.

"Please forgive me," I clutch onto your shirt tightly and cry.

"Shhh.." is your only verbal reply to my tears. You stroke my hair, bring out your handkerchief to wipe my eyes, and cuddle me close.

I look up and see your calm expression, no more fire smoldering in your pupils. You're even smiling slightly.

At that moment with my rear blazing, tears still falling - for some reason that I can't yet understand - I feel lighter. I just cling onto you and let my tears drop, as any little girl would.

Then, just as the tears are finishing, you stand me up and point to the far corner of the room, which I now notice is left bare, no beautiful painting or even a shelf to look at. You designed that purposely, too.

"Ten minutes," you say, then pick up my phone and head out the door. I know what is expected, and the time limit you have for the corner didn't go unnoticed by me, either.

Finally after what seems like an hour, but was really only ten minutes, the door opens and someone walks in, but when I turn my head around it's not you.. it's Lena holding a jar.

She tells me, "It's okay, you can come away from there.. your punishment is over, dear."

She goes on to explain that she's been in that corner many times and that it's nothing to be embarrassed of, at least not in front of her. She offers to rub cold cream on my very sore bottom, which I sheepishly accept.