by Maggie Ryan
“Um, Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“You forgot to pull my panties up.”
“I didn’t forget. Sitting on your bare bottom and looking down at your panties will remind you that you’ve been a naughty girl.” When she started to tug on her skirt and coat, he shook his head. “No, Coco. Keep your clothes up and your eyes down.”
Her nether cheeks were chilled sitting on the cool leather but her facial cheeks heated at his order. Pulling her clothing back to her waist, she stared down at the panties.
“As you sit there, I want you to think about what is going to happen when we get home. Think about how Daddy is going to give you a very hard spanking until your cheeks are as red as the words across your panties.” He paused, and she saw his lips quirk as he added, “And, of course, you won’t be cold any longer as your bottom will be very, very hot. Isn’t that what happens to naughty girls who don’t listen to their daddies?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Despite the fact that she knew she’d be blubbering before he allowed her off his lap or up from the chair or bed he’d instruct her to bend over, she felt that tingling in her tummy again. God, what would Paul and her associates think seeing her now? Her clothing at her waist, her innocent looking panties visible, her bare bottom pressed against the leather? Her gaze drifted to the rear-view mirror to see Harrison smiling and giving a small shake of his head as if to say he was in total agreement with his employer’s decision. Blushing hotly, she dropped her eyes and took deep breaths, preparing herself for when they arrived home.
Chapter Two
Dalton held his wife’s hand as they walked towards their building. He’d seen her flushed face when the car had stopped, and she’d not yet been given permission to lower her clothing. While she was so easily embarrassed worrying that anyone glancing inside the car could see that she was on display, he knew the tinted glass made that unlikely but also understood it was a very effective tool in reminding his girl that being naughty wasn’t a good choice. Once Harrison had opened the door, Dalton reached across the space, pulled her panties into place, and lowered her skirt, not the least bit surprised to see the look of intense relief on his little one’s face. She might be grateful now but he knew the flush and squirming would begin again in just a short amount of time.
“Good evening,” the uniformed doorman said, pulling the door open. “I’m glad to see you wearing your coat, Miss Colette.”
“Thank you, Mr. Porter,” Colette said, avoiding Dalton’s eyes, evidently knowing that he understood the comment could only mean that the older man had also worried about her lack of proper outerwear.
They rode the elevator up and exited on their floor. Living in the penthouse allowed the doors to slide open in their foyer. It was here that Dalton went into full blown Daddy mode. Pulling the panties out of his pocket that he’d removed from her earlier, he held them out. “You know where these go, I’m sure.” Her face flushed as she accepted the panties, having to stand on her tiptoes in order to hang them on the hook by the closet door. The action allowed her to understand that her naughtiness would be on display in more ways than one. He turned her to face him, reversing his actions earlier to unbutton and pull the belt free of her overcoat. Once it was off, he held it out and nodded towards the closet.
“Hang up your coat.”
“Yes, sir.” Colette opened the door and soon had completed the task. Turning back, she asked, “Do you want me to hang up yours, Daddy?”
“No, I want you to close the door, please.” He could see her confusion, and yet she obeyed. “Now, open the door, remove your coat and put it on.”
“But I just—”
He didn’t have to speak, his silence and expression making it clear that he expected his instruction to be obeyed. With a soft sigh, she did as instructed and he nodded.
“Care to guess how long that took you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know? Thirty seconds?”
Dalton shook his head. “Try five.” He paused to give a significant glance to the elevator door behind him before returning his gaze to her. She was a highly intelligent woman, and he wasn’t surprised to see her confusion clear.
“But I was holding my briefcase, and the elevator door was already open and—”
“And you decided that ignoring your daddy was perfectly acceptable.” Removing her coat again, he rehung it in the closet, adding his own. As he spoke, he began to slide the pearl buttons of her blouse through their buttonholes.
“Instead of taking a few seconds, you stood right here this morning and ignored my instruction which was given to assure that you were nice and warm.” The last button free, he gave a gentle tug to pull the blouse free of her skirt and then slipped it off her shoulders. “You also ignored Mr. Porter and finally, Harrison, didn’t you?”
“I-I just thought…”
She stopped speaking when, with a deft movement, he had the front closure of her bra undone, and it was quickly removed as well. Her nipples instantly pebbled, and he knew the temperature wasn’t the cause as the apartment was nice and toasty.
“You decided that you knew better than your daddy—”
“No, I just was—”
A quick swat to her bottom given to remind her that interrupting was not wise. “I’m not interested in hearing your excuses, little girl. You did and will now pay the price for that decision.” Unzipping her skirt, he allowed it to fall to the floor, leaving her standing in nothing but her heels, stockings and, of course, her “Spank Me” panties. Her shoes and stockings were quickly removed before he spoke again.
“I want you to think about the fact that your daddy loves you and when he instructs you to get a coat, it is because he knows you will need one.” Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her to face the closed door. “You will stand here, contemplating the fact that your choice to save five seconds has earned you a spanking.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said softly, her hands fluttering as if wanting to cover her breasts from possible view, facing a door that he was willing to bet she suddenly wished she’d opened that morning.
“Nipples and nose to the wood, young lady.”
Her soft moan was drowned out as another voice filled the foyer.
“I’m so glad you’re home. I was a tad bit worried with the snow. Dinner will be ready whenever you…oh, goodness.”
“Goodness isn’t the word for our little one,” Dalton said and gave a soft chuckle. “I’m afraid dinner will have to wait a bit.”
“I see,” Anita Dyer said, tsking and shaking her head as she looked down at the mistress of the house who stood in the foyer in nothing but her “Spank Me” request in full view. “Of course, sir. Just let me know when you wish it served.”
Dalton saw Coco’s shoulders slump and knew she was fighting feelings of embarrassment at being seen in her state of undress as well as her sorrow at hearing the disappointment in their housekeeper’s voice.
“I shall, thank you.” As he spoke, he stepped closer to the little miscreant and slowly peeled her panties down to her knees, smoothing out the cotton to make sure the prophetic words remained in full view. It took him only a few moments to pluck the pins in her hair free. With her golden locks falling down her back, the tips almost reaching the crease of her perfectly heart-shaped bottom, plump globes quivering just the slightest, the pale surface’s normally smooth texture pebbled with tiny little bumps of gooseflesh, panties at her knees, she was absolute perfection. Their home had many incredible works of art hanging on its walls, and yet he knew that he was presently looking at the masterpiece of their collection.
He gave her rear a light pat before turning to walk further into the apartment. It would make dinner a little late, and yet he was a very firm believer in corner, or in this case, wall time. By the time he called her to him, her mind would have left her professional lawyer role behind, leaving his little one in her place.
Dalton took the time to remove his suit coat, hanging it in the large closet in th
e master bedroom. It was a room that exuded masculinity, a huge king size bed dominated the space opposite floor to ceiling windows. Large leather chairs sat in front of a hearth, an oversized ottoman offering more than a place to set one’s feet…often holding a naked woman on its surface, kneeling or lying in one of many positions given with the order to display herself. The hardwood floors were softened by Persian rugs, the walls adorned with art. Dalton had eyes for none of these as his mind was occupied with the task at hand. Opening the door of a huge armoire, he scanned the interior, making his choices. Returning to the living room, he could smell the aroma of dinner and yet was not tempted to hurry the evening along in order to sit down to what he knew would be a delicious meal. Just like he never rushed choosing his little one’s panties each morning, he never hurried through the preparations required to ensure that by the time Coco sat for dinner, she’d be one very contrite little lady.
Placing the items he’d retrieved onto a small table, he went towards the hearth. Picking up the antique, yet very sturdy, ladder-back chair from its place, he moved it to the center of the room, next to the table. As he had done when they’d found the chair on one of their weekend jaunts to explore out of the way antique stores and flea markets, he smiled wondering how many men had taken a seat in this very chair in preparation of drawing a naughty girl across their lap to apply needed corporal discipline to a pale bottom. Turning towards the foyer, he took another few moments just watching Colette. It was an activity he’d never tire of.
She was standing as instructed. Her bare bottom, pale as the snow falling outside the window, was pushed out into the room. Small hands were linked on top of her head, her torso pressed against the door so that her nipples made contact properly. Experience told him that the tip of her nose would be a little pink from the pressure necessary to hold her position. Going to the fireplace, he opened the screen to allow more heat to waft across the room. Though he knew he’d be warming her bottom quite thoroughly, he wanted to ensure that Coco wouldn’t grow chilled. Satisfied that all was prepared, he sat down, unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, and called to his little one.
“Come here, Coco.” He knew it shamed her immensely to be forced to take what he referred to as the “shuffle of shame.” She was completely nude except for her panties, her steps inhibited by their presence at her knees, and even though she knew that she was going to be punished, she came.
While she began to shuffle towards him, he began to roll up his right sleeve. It was a sight he knew had both her pulse rate increasing and her bottom clenching. He had both sleeves rolled to his elbows before her tiny steps brought her to stand directly before him. When her eyes dropped to the table’s surface, widening at what she discovered awaiting her, his eyes scanned her body taking note of the slightly pink tip of her nose, her tightly puckered nipples, and her slightly spread stance necessary to keep her panties at her knees. It didn’t escape him that despite the fact she was trembling slightly, he could see the glistening coating her inner thighs. Two things were abundantly clear as she returned her eyes to his. She wasn’t thrilled about what she’d seen on the table and despite that truth, she couldn’t keep her body from responding to her daddy’s dominance before the first swat ever landed.
“Why is Daddy going to blister your bottom, Coco?”
“I-I didn’t obey you, Daddy.”
“That’s right. You ignored Daddy when he told you to wear your coat. Going out improperly dressed is a safety issue, isn’t it?”
Her could see her fight to swallow, both of them knowing that discipline for ignoring safety rules was harsher than discipline for simple disobedience. He watched as the adult lawyer within her struggled against the little girl who had taken the vows she’d given on their wedding day to a different level…a level that required her submission to his wishes, obedience to his rules, and acceptance of punishment delivered by her daddy when she broke those rules.
“Answer me, Colette.”
“I-I guess…” Her eyes dropped for an instant then lifted to give the true answer. The answer that would not only justify her upcoming spanking but force her to admit she’d made a big mistake that morning. “I mean, yes, Daddy.” Evidently the adult attorney was still not fully banished, as she looked once again at the table and said, “But I was in a—”
“No,” Dalton chided, shaking his head. “I’m not interested in excuses, little girl. I’m interested in making sure that the next time your daddy tells you to do something that instead of ignoring me, you’ll obey.” He reached for her, taking her arm and guiding her between his spread knees. “It doesn’t matter if I’m instructing you to brush your teeth, mind your manners, or put on a coat. Let this spanking remind you that my little one is to obey every single instruction she is given.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered, her lower lip trembling as he pulled her down and positioned her draped over his left leg with her bare bottom perched on top of his thigh. Her hair fell to shield her face, her hands moved to grip the legs of the chair, and her toes were barely able to touch the floor behind her. He gave her bottom a pat before reaching for the first item on the table. Once the jar was open, he lifted the lid of the black box sitting next to it and removed the long glass tube.
“You could have caught a cold out in the snow—”
“No, I wasn’t outside long enough for—”
The moment his palm cracked against her right buttock, her protest ended. With the imprint of his hand, each individual finger painted in red against her pale flesh, he continued. “If you are running a fever, it will not keep you from receiving your spanking, but it might require a change in our vacation plans. I am going to take your temperature now and several additional times until I am satisfied that you aren’t becoming ill.”
She whimpered, her bottom clenching at his words. “Please…please, Daddy. Not there.”
“Not where?” he asked, not needing an answer but knowing requiring one would help her accept the proper mindset of her role.
“Oh, Daddy, please don’t make me say.”
A matching handprint bloomed on her left buttock. “You will answer any questions I ask you, little girl. Now, use your words and tell Daddy where this thermometer is going to go.”
She gave a little sob but he knew it was from embarrassment and not pain. His little one had a hard time voicing certain things and those pertaining to her body always caused her to hesitate. “My…my hei…heinie hole,” she finally managed, stuttering the words he’d taught her were proper for his little girl to say. Her head turned back, her eyes welling with tears of humiliation, the trembling of her bottom lip more frantic. “Ple…please, Daddy, it’s too embarrassing. Please put it in my mouth.” Her shaky voice, her uttered plea told him his precious little girl had completely driven the attorney from this moment.
“No, Coco. Naughty little girls don’t get to decide where their daddy takes their temperature. Daddies make the decisions and, young lady, this thermometer doesn’t go between a good little girl’s lips.” He paused as his cock twitched at the image of those sweet trembling lips, imagining them parting to wrap around his shaft. Ignoring the erotic image, he concentrated on the task at hand.
“No, this is the thermometer that Daddy is going to push into your heinie hole before he spanks your naughty bottom until it is as hot as those logs in the fireplace.” Shaking down the thermometer, he watched as her head fell forward, a soft cry given as he used the fingers of one hand to spread the globes of her ass apart to expose her puckered little hole. It too was clenching with both the embarrassing exposure as well as the knowledge that it was soon to be invaded. He swirled the tip of the glass tube into the jar of lubricant, coating it with a large dollop of the emollient before placing it against her anus. The sound of her sharp inhale didn’t deter him in the least. Pressing the thermometer past the tight ring of muscle he said, “Don’t clench, and don’t move. I don’t want to lose the tube inside your little hole. Be very still for Daddy.”
> Though there was absolutely no chance he’d ever lose the tube, he knew the mere possibility would freeze his girl in place. Yes, her little cheeks would continue to clench, and her whimpers would continue to waft on the air, but her bottom would remain still until he, and only he, decided to remove the tube. With her as immobile as a statue, he pressed the thick thermometer past the second ring of muscle.
“See, no need to be scared. Your heinie hole is swallowing the thermometer just fine.” How he adored hearing her soft little gasps of humiliation at his use of the words that caused both her face to flush and her tummy to twist at the knowledge that she, a twenty-six-year-old woman, was across her husband’s knees in front of a bank of floor to ceiling windows in a lavishly-furnished penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park. Instead of enjoying an evening cocktail, clothed in some designer’s newest collection, she was completely nude except for the little girl panties at her knees and having her temperature taken anally. He pulled the tube almost free of her passage before sliding it in again as if to demonstrate his point. Repeating the process, he heard her little whimpers change to soft moans. Regardless of her protests that she hated any attention to that specific portion of her anatomy, her buttocks finally relaxed, and with her anus loosening its tight grip, he slid the tube in fully until only enough remained to hold between his fingers. “There, that wasn’t bad, was it?”
“N…no, Da…Daddy, but I don’t like it,” she said, obediently answering yet maintaining her stubborn streak.
Dalton chuckled, giving the thermometer a twist, eliciting another moan. “It doesn’t matter if you like it or not, Colette Grace Windsor. What matters is that Daddy will make sure that his little girl isn’t burning up with a fever. The only part of you that Daddy wishes to be on fire is your bottom after your spanking. Now, just relax and let the thermometer do its job.”
