A nice dinner... And some nice plans

The chairs are soft enough for your bare bottom not to cause you too much discomfort through the surprisingly pleasant. It got off on a strange foot, of course, but you do enjoy that kind of trouble after all and it is exhilarating to be able to talk about the matters you kept to yourself for so long now. You all agree immediately that any changes concerning important humanity-wide matters would have to be agreed upon by all of you and write Rules to confirm that. The brothers' device turns out to be an ancient laptop - you are not technology geek but you are pretty certain it predates the turn of the century. You also re-word and confirm Rules concerning any other potential entrants to your little club.

The more fun Rules, however, are not quite as straightforward. In principle you are, of course, more than happy for yourself and women in general to be humiliated and mistreated in those ways, but you want to retain a share of control over quite how it happens. If the brothers find the idea of a half-naked sore-bottomed woman asking for control hilarious, they do a good job of hiding it, you have to give them that. Furthermore, they do not have a problem with it as such... They just want to ensure they will get to have some fun too. James also points out that with such power at your disposal you might yourself enjoy losing control, at least for a while. That point is rather hard to argue when you are quite certain there is a spot already formed on your chair following the pre-dinner proceedings.

It is not easy, but by dessert you all seem fairly satisfied with the agreement you reach. Sure, in addition to being satisfied you are scared too and already feeling the humiliation to come, but those are the right kinds of fear and humiliation. A part of you is already looking forward to the next week, when "Stage One" of the arrangement will be initiated (the rest of you, obviously, is not, but that is kind of the point). The dinner ends very amiably and you manage to avoid further slip ups so you get dressed again. The art of putting your lower half of clothing on without giving everyone a view down your various orifices has been mostly mastered by now, although it did not help that the bill arrived when you were just in your underwear and you had to insist to contribute your third before a chance to finish with your clothes. Your bottom has practically stopped actively hurting too, although of course you can still feel it in the background.

Now fully dressed, you exit the restaurant with the young men and shake their hands by the entrance before you head separate ways. This will be an interesting partnership.