Playing a Little by Breanna Hayse Page B

thought to himself with a soft smile. She loves being called Cami… her eyes just shine with joy , he recalled. As though she knew it was her special name, given to her by a loving uncle and a true friend.
    Erik paused in the doorway of her room to study her posture as she stood obediently with her nose to the corner, hands clasped in front of her body while shifting back and forth from left to right as though she did not know what to do with herself. He settled a stern look upon his face and sat on the edge of the bed.
    “Camille Loren? Come here, please.”
    Camille bit her lip as she approached him, wringing her hands nervously. He reached out and took them in his own, squeezing gently. “How old are you?”
    “I’m nineteen. You know that.”
    “No, Camille. How old are you now? How old do you feel as you are standing in front of me, about to get a very firm spanking?”
    “About twelve. Like when we were on set,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper as her lower lip began to quiver.
    “That is an honest appraisal. Very well. This is where we will start. Follow me.”
    Erik led her out of her room and across the walkway that led away from the nursery. He stood at a closed door, waiting for her to catch up, and then reached for her chin.
    “Arthur had several different rooms designed for this experiment. Since you are feeling more like a pre-teen, I think this room will suit you better right now. Just remember that this is temporary, because I plan to get you back into the nursery as soon as you are ready.”
    Camille’s mouth hung open as she entered her ‘big girl’ room. It was decorated in hot pink and zebra prints, and had posters on the wall. Of Erik! He grinned with a shrug as she looked at him with a disapproving frown.
    “This is Arthur’s doing. He had it decorated like the normal, American teenage girl. He put my posters up to embarrass me. I have to admit, he did a good job. At embarrassing me, I mean.”
    Camille lifted her brow skeptically and then returned to peruse the room with her eyes. A black metal desk with hot pink trim and a matching dresser were placed against the far wall, complete with a stereo, TV, and video station. On the floor was a giant faux fur zebra skin rug, also trimmed in hot pink.
    Erik pointed to an empty corner. “Even bigger girls get corner time with me. Go stand there, hands on your head, and think about how naughty you have been. I will be right back.”
    He returned ten minutes later, carrying a book in his hand. He called Camille over, handing it to her. “When we are done with your spanking, you will sit, bare-bottomed, at your desk and write 500 lines. They will say, ‘I promise to mind Uncle Erik and all his house rules or I will be getting spanked on my bare bottom again.’ Understand? Now write it down so you don’t forget it.”
    “Yes, sir, Uncle Erik,” she whispered, hand trembling as she took the notebook from him. He watched as she wrote the sentence, her handwriting shaky as she eyed the large, broad hairbrush that he had placed on her new bed.
    “Very good. Since you are a big girl, I expect different behavior from you during your punishment. When you are over my knee, you are to keep your palms flat on the floor and no kicking or squirming. Big girls are expected to accept their punishment because they know better how to behave.”
    “Is it too late for me to be two?” Camille asked, drawing her brows together.
    Erik nodded, cupping her face in his hand. “This time, yes. You will have plenty of time to find the age where you feel the least constrained in how you react. Right now, though, you are twelve. Turn your bottom across my lap, young lady. Let’s get this done with.”
    “I’m scared.”
    “Your bottom should be scared. It is going to be very, very sore by the time I am done with it. Now mind me.”
    Camille visibly gulped before she gained the courage to obey. His legs were long and, sitting on the edge of the high bed, he