Girl's

by Darla Phelps

  His hand slipped from her arm, journeying down to gently rub low on her tummy, little circles that applied pressure against a bladder that already felt on the verge of bursting.

  "Oh!" she whimpered, squeezing her eyes tightly shut as she lost control. The warm gush of liquid flowed from her, and Meg began to cry.

  "There's a good girl," Daddy soothed, rubbing her tummy in comfort. "Let it all out."

  "I don't like this," she hiccuped.

  "I know, but it's all right." He kissed her forehead. "You're doing what I told you to. Come on, let's get you changed and dry again."

  On the bathroom floor, he lay her down on the quilt that enveloped her so warmly and unwrapped her as though she were the sweetest of treasures. She drew her knees up at his gentle insistence, his warm hands parting her thighs wide, splaying her open to him. Meg turned her face away, blushing furiously when he removed the soiled diaper and began to wash between her legs with a cleansing wipe, but he wasn't about to let her hide herself from him.

  "Meggy, baby," he said, smiling because her entire body tensed. Not because of misery or upset, but because he'd just parted the lips of her baby bare sex to dip between them. Gently, he coaxed, "Look at me. I want to see my little girl's pretty eyes."

  Her lips parted, her back arching slightly as he touched all the most sensitive places.

  "Look at me," he coaxed again. He rose up on his knees, stretching between the cradle of her thighs and over the top of her. He leaned his forearm on the quilt by her head, bracing his heavier weight off her as he continued to stroke, up and down, the wipe becoming slippery as her arousal began to flow from her like honey.

  "Open your eyes," he repeated.

  Her legs remained just as far apart as he had made them, like a butterfly's wings unfurled, and her hips began moving under the motions of his hand. She combed her fingers through her hair, catching fists full of the brown locks and holding fast, moaning raggedly, but she opened her eyes and turned her head to gaze up at him through half-closed lids.

  "Because you were such a good girl for Daddy, I'm going to give you a reward," he said. "Let me see your face. Keep your eyes open and keep looking at me. That's my precious, baby girl. I want to watch you cum."

  Her legs trembled and shook. Were he not stretched up between them, she would have snapped her knees together as he caught her clit between his fingers.

  "I have the most beautiful baby," he said, while she whimpered and moved against his hand. "I love it when you make those little noises way back in your throat like that. No, open your eyes, Meggy. Look at me. I love the way your nipples swell, wanting to be touched and suckled. And the way you smell when you're aroused. And how you move and squirm beneath me, your body begging me to come inside you because you're too shy to say the words."

  She wrapped her legs around his hips, moaning as he lay the wipe aside and his bare fingers slipped into her wet crease.

  "Is that what you want, baby? Just feel how wet you are; molten, hot and sweet. Shall I slid all the way into you, stretch you open and fill you up?"

  She let go of her hair to clutch his shoulders. She didn't answer, but she didn't take her eyes from him either. Not when he found her sweet spot, and not when he delved into her slippery sheath, one questing finger becoming two, moving slowly in and out, mimicking the motions of sex.

  "Oh yeah," he breathed. "I need to be inside of you. My baby deserves her play time. She deserves to feel me filling her all the way up."

  He took his hand from her to unfasten his jeans, but when she tried to help him, he stopped her. "Hold onto me and don't look away."

  She obeyed, clinging to him, her hands on his broad shoulders as he impatiently shucked his jeans and underwear down over his lean hips, releasing his member, swollen and hard and straining to reach her. He lifted her legs, draped her knees over his shoulders and sank deep inside her willing body.

  It didn't take much to make Meg cum. She was very quickly gasping and quivering, arching stiffly to meet his thrusts, and crying out when her whole body rocked under the force of her orgasm. The feel of her tightening and shivering all around him was enough to trigger David's, and with a hard expulsion of breath, he drove all the way into her one last time and spilled his seed as he nuzzled up against her soft womb.

  He didn't move for the longest time, wanting to feel her clenching rhythmically upon him for as long as possible. But as passion waned and he finally felt himself slip back out of her, their bodies reluctantly became separate again. Daddy David bent over his little woman/child, kissing her forehead and the tip of her nose.

  "I love you," he told her as he kissed her sweetly smiling lips.

  Her stomach rumbled. She quickly clapped both hands over it, pressing down to silence the nose. Her cheeks blushed as she giggled. "Oops."

  "That's what I get for having play time before breakfast," he chuckled. "Come on. Let's get your diaper on so we can eat."

  "Waffles," she said as he reached for the wipes again.

  "Waffles it is."

  "With jam." Her breath caught sharply as he parted her labia to clean her and his fingers brushed her now quite sensitive clit. She grabbed the quilt beneath her with both hands, arching her hips. "S-st-raww-ah!-berry!"

  He chuckled again at her reaction to the touch, but play time was over.

  "Hold still, baby." He cleaned away all traces of their shared passion and powdered her baby soft skin for the diaper. "I think I have enough strawberry jam for a waffle or two."

  "An' whippin' cream an' a cherry on top."

  He bent back down to kiss her forehead, fixed her with a mockingly stern look, and said, "Don't push your luck."

  Meg giggled happily.

  * * * * *

  It was much later in the afternoon when Meg awoke to the sound of footsteps strolling along the gravel and stepping stone walkway beneath one of her open bedroom windows. She rolled over, rubbing her eyes sleepily as she wondered what time it was. Probably not yet three and nap time not yet over if Daddy was walking around outside. She almost rolled back over, her eyes already drifting shut again, when she sleepily became aware of her body's needling reminder that drinking so much juice at lunch time often led to consequences later on in the afternoon. Those consequences had now come due.

  She really had to pee. And that wasn't all, either. Horrified, she covered her abdomen with both hands, but that familiar urge would not be ignored. If anything, it intensified, signaling that she should get to the bathroom right away.

  Meg sat up, chewing her bottom lip and holding the front of her diaper. Her eyes slid to the white baby monitor on the little table by her crib. The indicator light was on and it was facing her. Chances were good that all she had to do was call out and Daddy would come promptly. Maybe she could ask really nicely and he'd let her use the big girl potty, especially since it was going to be messy. Except that he'd already said no, that she wouldn't be allowed to be a big girl today. He'd already changed her diaper twice that morning. And both times he'd praised her and rewarded her with quick but intense play times that had left her body absolutely singing with ecstasy. But this time would be different. This time would be more than just urine.

  She had to use the toilet, even knowing that she did so without his permission.

  But he was outside. Maybe if she was very, very quiet, he'd never find out.

  She tucked both hands between her thighs, pressing hard against the diaper, the urge growing stronger as she tensed with indecision. Her gaze darted back to the baby monitor. Could she sneak quietly enough to avoid being heard? If she couldn't...her eyes were drawn unwillingly to the hard, wooden hairbrush and she shuddered.

  She shouldn't get up. Good girls called for Daddy as they were supposed to. And if it were only a matter of her wetting her diaper, then perhaps she wouldn't now be caught in such indecision. She didn't want Daddy mad at her. She certainly didn't want a spanking.

  She hugged her aching tummy, bowing over as she rocked herself
and hating the diaper with a sudden passion. She just couldn't fill her pants. It was embarrassing. Humiliating. And she didn't want to feel that against her skin, not even for so brief a time as it would take for Daddy to come in and change her. And for him to see it!

  No! No way.

  In the end, she swung her leg up over the side of the crib, and avoiding so much as a peek at the hairbrush, she climbed down to the carpet as quietly as she could. Standing in front of the monitor, she fidgeted with her fingers. It wasn't too late. She could still call for Daddy and still be his good baby girl...a good baby girl in a wet, smelly, saggy, baggy, nasty ol' diaper.

  She wasn't going to be good, and that was her choice. But as she fidgeted in front of the monitor, she also decided that it was bad enough to be naughty without being dishonest and deceitful about it. She cleared her throat, her bottom already tingling with dread, knowing she was going to be soundly spanked all over again.

  As bravely as she could, Meg announced, "I'm gonna go downstairs, Daddy. I know you're gonna be mad at me, but I can't use my diaper this time; I hafta use the big girl potty."

  At the door, she paused long enough to pick up the hairbrush, which she would undoubtedly have to fetch for him pretty soon anyway. Then she hurried downstairs.

  In the bathroom, her hands shook as she tugged her pajama sleeves from her shoulders and pushed her pull-ups down to her knees. She held onto the hairbrush the whole time, turning it over and over in her hands until she was done. As she shrugged into her pajamas again and flushed the toilet, out in the living room, she heard the front door open. An explosion of nervous butterflies fluttered through her stomach and she almost dropped the hairbrush straight into the bowl.

  Clutching it tight to her chest, she wrung the handle between her hands. She closed her eyes and tried to catch her breath as Daddy's heavier footsteps trod into the cabin. This was the price of disobedience. She'd known it before ever leaving her bedroom. Was it worth it?

  No. She hadn't trembled this hard at the embarrassment of Daddy's seeing her messy diaper, but despite having just emptied her bladder, the prospect of placing this hairbrush into Daddy's capable hands had her on the verge of wetting her pants all over again.

  On impulse, she went to the towel closet and selected the biggest, fluffiest towel folded neatly on the shelves. Dropping her own bottom flap, she worked to wedge a corner of the folded towel into the waist of her pull-ups. It was laughable to think that he wouldn't notice the extra padding over her bottom, or that he would even allow her to keep either her pajamas or her diaper on. All her other spankings had been fearsomely delivered on the bare, but she pulled the flap back up and buttoned it into place anyway. And when she turned around to look at her backside in the mirror, her shoulders drooped as she realized just how obvious the padding was.

  Bowing her head and dragging her feet, she picked up the hairbrush and trudged out to the living room. She didn't even look at him, but shuffled herself straight into the nearest corner, folded her hands behind her head and leaned in until her nose touched the crux of the walls. She completely missed seeing the two lithesome switches lying on the dining table near him, as well as his bemused expression as his glance fell to her towel-padded bottom.

  Meg sniffled, facing the walls miserably. As one silent minute stretched into two, she gave up waiting for him to say something. In a tone that almost sounded more petulant than remorseful, she said, "I wanted to be good, but I couldn't. It's embarrassing and humiliating, and I didn't have to just pee. It was the other one, too." She sniffled again. "I won't do it!"

  Still without speaking, Daddy slowly crossed the room to her corner. He took the hairbrush from her hand. "We're not going to need that."

  She blinked owlishly, looked up at her empty hands and then half turned out of the corner to face him. "Y-you're not gonna spank me?"

  "Oh no, you're going to get spanked. But the hairbrush is for little corrections only. For more severe things-such as blatant displays of unrepentant, deliberate defiance-I prefer implements that leave a more lasting impression." He patted her towel-plumpened bottom. "Now that is absolutely darling. I can honestly say, you are the first of my little girls to try this trick. Did you really think I wouldn't notice this, or that I'd forget to bare your bottom?"

  "No." She bow her head and faced the corner again, shifting her feet as he unbuttoned her pajama flap and pulled the towel out.

  His smile turned a little sad and he stroked her hair back so that he could see her face. Gently he asked, "Did you announce your disobedience to keep from being tempted to lie and cover it up?"

  She nodded and said, "I didn't want to be bad. I just couldn't-"

  "Meggy," Daddy calmly interrupted. "You aren't bad, but you were naughty. It doesn't matter what you want or don't want. I told you that you were only allowed to use your diaper, and you waited until I wasn't present before you willfully defied me."

  "But, Daddy-"

  "I know it's hard for you. I know you're embarrassed to have me doing something so intimate for you. But as hard as it is to submit to this, you're going to find it that much harder to bear taking a switching across your bare bottom. Especially one that is administered with as much severity as I have to do now. And the next time that you decide to deny Daddy the right to take care of his little girl, I sincerely hope you'll remember this and change your mind."

  Switching? Meg's knees wobbled weakly.

  "Come here," he said, touching her shoulder gently. "Let me hold you first."

  She turned, already shivering in dread as he pulled her into his warm embrace. As he cradled and rocked her, she buried her face against his chest. She could feel the strong beating of his heart beneath her open hands and it felt somehow comforting.

  "I love you, baby girl," he murmured low against her ear. "But I need for you to surrender yourself fully to me. You won't always like what I ask of you, and you won't always want to obey. But trust that I'll never ask more than what you're capable of giving, and that what I do ask is for your own good. Okay?"

  She nodded, sniffling harder because the tears were starting to burn behind her eyes and they refused to be blinked back.

  "All right, then. Let's get this over with." He led her to the dining table, where he gently stripped her of both pajamas and diaper.

  Holding onto his shoulders for balance, as Meg lifted each foot in turn, she couldn't help but look at the switches. She swallowed hard. "Why are there two of them?"

  His mouth tightened, but he remained determined. "Because the first is going to break long before your punishment's over."

  "Oh." Her breath quickened as he moved the switches aside, took her arm and bent her into position. The edge of the table felt hard where it jabbed into her pelvis, the surface of it cool against her belly and her breasts.

  Daddy picked up the first switch. Only as thick around as her littlest finger and a good three feet in length, it made a horrible sound as he swished it through the air once. "Hold onto the table with both hands. I want you to keep them in front of you. No reaching back, or I might accidently strike one before I can stop. The same goes for your feet. You can shout and cry all you want to, but keep your feet down and don't try to cover your bottom with them."

  Her voice shook when she said, "Okay." And she grabbed onto the table as tightly as she could.

  His warm hand settled on her back, pressing her firmly down. She heard the awful sound of the narrow limb cutting through the air an instant before the first stripe of agony burned across the seat of both buttocks. The extra length wrapped around the side of her hip to flick against her thigh, and Meg sucked at a started breath. Before she could even cry out, two more sharp spanks caught her just as fiercely and a ragged shout tore itself from her throat.

  There was no holding still, no matter how she tried. She kicked and screeched, clinging frantically to the table, hardly aware that she had pulled herself up onto it almost entirely, or that Daddy's hand now pressed even harder at the small
of her back just to keep her from rolling onto her side. He raised over a dozen welts from the top of her fiery bottom to her tender sit spot, where she would be sure to feel it the sharpest when he finally pulled her diaper back into place. By the time he wore out the first switch, she was sobbing so hard her words were nearly unintelligible.

  "Puh-lease, Daddy! No more! I'll be good, I promise! I swear! No! NO!"

  As he exchanged the first switch for the second, fresh one, he said, "I love you, baby girl, but I need for you to mind what I tell you. And this is a good way to make sure you will from now on."

  By the time that second verge was worn to an ineffective length, Meg was sobbing so hard that she could barely catch her breath. She had screamed herself almost hoarse and was now lying fully on the table, having heaved herself all the way up in her struggles to escape the agony of the switching. Though he knew she'd tried not to reach back, despite all her best efforts, he'd had to pin her hands behind her when she simply could not hold onto the edge any longer.

  Half blinded by tears, when he released her hands, she clumsily dragged herself up on her hands and knees. Immediately she reached for him, and he barely caught her before she fell off the table.

  "I'm sorry!" she sobbed, flinging her arms around her neck.

  "I know," he said, stroking her hair and rubbing her back. "So am I."

  "Pick me up, Daddy."

  He lifted her easily into his arms, holding her tightly as she wrapped both her arms and legs around him. Weeping, she buried her face against the side of his neck. He rocked her, for a moment afraid that he had been too severe, too quickly. He didn't even realize that he'd began to sing to her until her sobbing slowed and, tearfully, she laughed.

  In a sad and raspy voice, she began to sing with him. "Do your ears hang low, do they wobble to and fro? Can you tie 'em in a knot, can you tie 'em in a bow..."

  "You'll always be my baby girl, Meggy." He smiled softly, rocking her to the rhythm of the childish melody, the heat from her wealed and blistered bottom in his hands. He finished the rhyme with her, his deeper voice keeping the harmony that her scratchy one could not. "Can you throw 'em over your shoulder, like a continental soldier? Do your ears hang low?"