by Maren Smith
“But, Daddy…”
He was across the room before another word could come out. With his left hand, he clutched a fistful of hair, pulling her head back so she had no choice but to look into his face, while the right hand swatted down fire onto her naked backside. “I told you to put your nose back in the corner. You wanted to upset your daddy, you needed him to take control of you and that is what you are going to get. Now, put your nose back in this corner and don’t say another word.” He let go of her hair and turned her to the wall.
Chapter Nine
Tears brimmed Brianna’s eyes as she stared at the white wall. He had made his point, loud and clear. Had she pushed too hard this time? The guilt she was feeling for Phantom’s injuries had screamed so loudly that everything else, including the sense of self-preservation, had been muted. Be careful what you ask for, you might just receive it. Those words had reverberated inside of her a decade ago when she watched Max’s truck pull away, never to return. She heard the movement behind her, but didn’t want to anger him by turning around. Her heart dropped when she heard him unzipping and rezipping his pack. She hoped to God she didn’t just push him away again.
“Come here, Bumble,” Max finally called for her.
Brianna turned, her eyes widening. Standing in front of the bed in the middle of the room wearing a pair of black shorts was Max. To his right was the hard, tall-backed wooden chair that had been pushed into the desk in the far corner of the room. A stack of pillows had been neatly arranged in the center of the bed, his thick black belt laid ominously next to them.
“Daddy, I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me!” The words rushed out as she approached.
“Oh, Bee.” He pulled her into his arms for a tight hug before kissing her forehead. “Nothing you do is going to cause me to leave you. I might blister your bare behind, but I am not going to leave you. Okay?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He took her hand and led her to the desk chair. Sitting, he positioned her to stand between his legs. “Now, what was it you were wanting to tell me when you first got into the corner?”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” She looked down at her hands, clasping and unclasping them in front of her.
“Eyes up, Bumble. What are you sorry for?”
“For being a bit… brat,” she self-corrected. She noticed the corners of his mouth turn up, but he stopped himself from laughing. “I wasn’t very nice.”
“You weren’t nice. You were downright disrespectful and you purposefully broke our rules, didn’t you, Bumble?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Why did you do that, Bee?”
He would ask her the hard questions, darn him. She tried to find a way to vocalize it to him. “I am feeling overwhelmed. There are all these feelings piling up inside of me. I feel guilty for what happened to Phantom. I know it isn’t logical but I feel it anyway. I feel like I am going to explode. I don’t like it. I can’t control it and I’m spinning. I don’t know what to do and…” she floundered. She didn’t know how to verbalize it.
He took her hands in his and spoke again. “I don’t ever want you to hide from me. The destructive way you went about this today is not okay. I won’t tolerate it. Our relationship is too precious to me. If you need a spanking, if you are feeling out of control, you can always come to me. I will talk you through it. I will recenter you. I will spank you if you need. I will help you get through anything life throws your way. But, there can be no hiding. No self-sabotage, no disrespect. It can be hard to ask for what you need, but sometimes, we have to do hard things in life. Do you understand what I am saying, Little Bee?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Had you come to me and told me what was going on, I would have helped you through it. We would have had a long conversation and then I would have guided you through a spanking where you were in some control over when it stopped. But, you pushed and prodded until we were way past that. Daddy can’t allow you to get away with playing games with our relationship, can I?”
“No, Daddy,” she said sadly. She absolutely could not argue with him. She had pushed him and now, he was pushing back.
“Good girl. Okay, over my knee you go.” He helped guide her over his lap. She was not happy with this position. The couch had given her some support under her legs and torso. Now her body hung free, only her middle supported by his strong thighs. Her hands rested on the floor, her hair spilling over her face. Her tiptoes grazed the carpet on the other side. Max scooted forward, lifting one of his legs under her, exposing more of her behind. She groaned.
The first swat had Brianna rearing up. It was unlike any spanking he had given her before. This wasn’t a slow warm up. This was fast and furious. The swats were hard and sharp. They came down with full strength on her bare, cold behind. She tried to hold her cries in, they were in a hotel after all. Swat after swat landed, with no pattern to it. Left cheek, right cheek, sit spot, thighs. He swatted and swatted and swatted.
It hurt like hell. Her butt was on fire. She was going to need a fire extinguisher to quench it. Squirming from side to side wasn’t helping. She wanted to get off his lap and sit in a bucket of cold water. Max pulled her tightly to his stomach, ending her squirming and continued to wail on her. She couldn’t catch her breath; she was going to hyperventilate. The swats were just coming so, so fast. There weren’t any pauses between them.
“Daddy, Daddy! It hurts!”
“That’s the point.”
Bastard.
She tossed her head back and inhaled deeply. She was positive she couldn’t take even one more single swat. Then it stopped. Okay, okay. It's over. He’s going to pull me onto his lap, cuddle me into his chest and love on me. She wasn’t prepared for him to stand her up, turn her toward the bed and swat her, giving her a three-word order.
“Over the pillows.”
“Wait, what?”
“We aren’t done yet, Bumble Bee. Go lay over the pillows.”
“Yes, Daddy.” Her submission was a way she could prove to him she really was sorry. She went and laid over them, unsure if she was doing it right. Turning her head to the outside of the bed, she watched him pick up the black belt laying there.
“This isn’t leather, Bee. This is my duty belt. It is two belts in one; it has an inner and outer locking system. The outer belt is made up of ultra-rigid nylon webbing and the inner one is made up from heavy-duty nylon scuba webbing. When you are especially naughty, you will get a taste of Daddy’s belt. Sometimes, it might be a small taste, a cherry on top of a sundae. Other times, the hand spanking will be your appetizer and the belting will be the main course. It depends on what you have done to earn it. I will never abuse you. I will never give you more than you can take. I will give you every bit of what you have earned. Do you trust me?”
Her heart was beating from deep within her stomach, anxiety and fear filled her pores. But, it wasn’t fear of Max. Never. She knew he would give his very life before harming her. “I trust you, Daddy.”
“Good girl. I want you to hold on to the covers now, Bee. Do not reach back. Your hands are tender and could be badly hurt. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. We are going to start now.”
There was no warning. Unlike the few times in the past where she had tasted his leather belt, there wasn’t a sound either, no zinging through the air. Just silence. Then an explosion. Unlike leather, the nylon thudded heavily across the fullness of her ass cheeks. It was a deeper pain. The next one fell below the first stripe and then another landed. She had to grasp hard on to the bed covers to not reach back and protect her backside. The pain was exploding with each lash.
The pain, like the emotions, built up, until she couldn’t take it anymore. An animalistic cry rang out from her lips as she tossed her head back and screamed, “Daddy!” before bursting into body-wracking sobs.
Max dropped the belt with a thud onto the ground and threw himself onto the bed, bundling her up into hi
s arms. She held on to him for dear life, sobbing into his chest.
“It’s okay, baby. I have you, Bee.” He tightened his grasp on her as she clung to him, breathing him in, allowing his strength to envelop her, to fill her. He was her seatbelt on this rollercoaster they called life. He would keep her safely contained within his boundaries. She was free. She was home.
Present Day
Max stood in the doorway, drinking from his coffee and trying not to grin at the ridiculous sight in front of him. The last thing he needed to do was encourage her.
“I’m excited about this trip, Daddy!” Brianna said, looking up at him from the middle of the floor where she was surrounded by three suitcases and piles of clothing.
“I can tell, Bumble. We are only going to Colorado for the week, not a month. Do you really need all those clothes?”
“I don’t know what the weather is going to be like!” she exclaimed, bouncing excitedly on her knees.
“Well, I don’t think you are going to need fifty outfits for three days.”
“Oh, Daddy!” She giggled.
He chuckled himself. The past three years had been wonderful. Not that it had been without challenge. The first year especially. Brianna had sold her house and moved to San Diego. Eventually, they developed a routine and had fallen into a nice pace. He had taken her to his BDSM club and introduced her to several close friends of his, couples who practiced the lifestyle that they lived.
The transformation in her had been awe-inspiring. He’d known she was a submissive, his submissive. He hadn’t realized that she would find her identity as a little. It was amazing. He was able to grow in his role as a Daddy Dom and she was able to be free and let go of some of her long-held fears and insecurities. The woman before him now was the best version of herself he had ever seen. More confident, happier and easier to be with.
“I talked to Phantom yesterday, he is excited to show you the land he purchased and the houses he’s already built. He thanks you for the idea. The community is really starting to come together.”
“He needed a project, a purpose. I just helped him find that,” she shrugged.
Always humble, his girl was. “You inspire people, Bee. It is one of the things I love about you.”
“I’m just happy that he found something that will keep him busy. He has come such a long way. I wish he could still be a SEAL but I guess I get why they won’t let him. He’s doing great with his prosthetic though.”
“He is. He’s my hero. I don’t know if I could do it.” He wasn’t lying. Living without a limb… there but for the grace of God go I, he thought to himself. Phantom was a better man than he was. No doubt. They were over the moon happy when he attended their wedding the year before as Max’s best man.
“Now, if we could only find him a girl. Maybe while we are out there visiting him—”
“No. You will not play matchmaker, you hear me, Bumble?”
“But, Daddy, Phantom needs his own girl to take care of. You said he was a Dom, too.”
“He is. But, you leave him alone. Let the man find his own woman. He doesn’t need you meddling.”
“I bet he isn’t even looking.” She looked up at him with her big eyes, the, please, Daddy look written all over her face.
“Little girl, if I find you interfering in Phantom’s love life in any way, shape or form, I will spank your bottom. Do you understand me?”
“What love life? He doesn’t have one!”
“You know exactly what I mean!”
“Oh! I guess I don’t need to take this with me.” She turned to him, holding something out to him. “It's for you anyway.”
He noticed the change in subject but his curiosity grabbed his attention, so he decided to allow it.
“What is that?” He pulled the white stick out of the wrapping paper.
Pregnant. The word was written in the window of the test. His heart raced in his chest. “Are you? Are we?”
“We are! Six weeks! Are you excited? You are going to have two of us calling you Daddy!” Max dropped the stick, rushed over to Brianna and picked her up, spinning her around before setting her back on her feet.
“I love you.” He wiped the tears from the corner of his eyes. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, Daddy. I am so glad you came and rescued me.”
“Me too, Bumble Bee. Me, too.”
The End
For more by RJ Gray, please click here.
Protecting Lu
Kara Kelley
Kara Kelley
Kara Kelley is a naughty Canuck (that’s a Canadian for those of you that don’t know), who loves spanks, a little bondage, tantalizing creative sex (trust me, honey this sh*t is gonna rock our world) and TIM HORTON’S. She’s full of playful mischief, loyalty and maybe some stubbornness, but she’ll never admit it. And she believes living in a secluded cabin in the woods (including good WIFI, a stocked Kindle, and plenty of chocolate) with her husband/Daddy-Dom would be absolute bliss.
Kara Kelley is a USA Today and #1 international Bestselling Author. Kara writes dominant heroes (mostly daddies) that are equal parts sweet and stern, and her novels incorporate enough steam and suspense to keep you wiggling on the edge of your seat and begging for more.
Copyright © 2020 by Kara Kelley and Red Hot Romance, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including, but not limited to, photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, locales, and events are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, and events are purely coincidental.
Editor: Jane Beyer
Copy Editor: Norah Williams
Chapter One
Lu
The note said, “To the Jackass that keeps stealing my pudding—”
I’ll spare you the rest. Trust me on this, you’ll thank me… or rather, I’ll thank me, as it paints me in a rather unsavory light. And since I worked damn hard to become Tallulah Jane Olsen, a friendly, sweet vet tech and contributing member of society, this does not sit well with me.
You’re welcome.
Anyway, it wasn’t the most imaginative of work lunch notes. I’d read a few in my time (although never directed at me—because, ahem, friendly, sweet vet tech and contributing member of society, remember?), but this came close and it was one hundred percent deserved.
Yes, it’s true. I’m one of those dreaded work lunch pilferers. But before you judge, I want you to know it’s not because I want to be a jackass. And I do try to take the least nutritionally valuable item in my victim’s lunch because, I dunno, it seems less rude if you take a snack that doesn’t in any way contribute to the health of said victim, and in fact, might even, if you take a leap here, prevent future health conditions like obesity and diabetes.
I know, I know, it’s quite a leap, but hell, I gotta live with myself.
I’m just saying, while yes, I’m a jackass, I’m a thoughtful one. What a saint, right?
So why do I do it?
‘Cause I’m not just a jackass, I’m also an idiot. When I found my foster brother, who I’d only very recently reconnected with, lying on the floor of his apartment in a frothy pool of his own puke, barely breathing, I called an ambulance. As soon as they arrived and I could stop monitoring his airway, breathing, and pulse, I did the stupidest thing. Ever.
I mean monumentally stupid.
In one, self-righteous, anger-fueled, holier-than-thou moment of I’ll-fix-your-problems-easy-peasy, I slipped away and dumped my addict foster brother’s drug supply down the toilet.
The. Entire. Thing.
As if one, or actually five, long-hold flushes could end his thirteen-year-toxic-love-affair with pills.
Here’s the idiot part. Ready?
With the amou
nt I flushed, only an imbecile would think it was just one guy’s supply, so while the EMTs worked frantically on Gage, I slipped away. I didn’t want to answer questions I had no answers for. But when I went out the back door of his rundown apartment building, a man in a leather jacket with a Satan’s Ransom patch was straddling his shiny Harley and blocking my car.
Satan’s Ransom controlled the drugs in River’s End and the two larger surrounding cities.
I swallowed hard, even though my mouth was drier than the desert. I had dumped the drugs. I had dumped a lot of drugs. Drugs owned by a biker club with a reputation for making examples out of people that crossed them.
“What’s happening in there?” the huge, bald biker asked with an orange goateed-covered chin lift indicating the top apartment—Gage’s apartment. I glanced over my shoulder to buy time.
“In there?” I thumbed the building over my shoulder and noticed the butterscotch candy wrappers scattered around his feet as I turned to look at the building behind me.
The reflection of flashing lights, flickering blue, red, and yellow, bounced off trees, ramshackle houses, and cars so old I doubted they ran. The police had arrived and they were just out front. But how would I explain? I just dumped evidence down the toilet. What if they thought I was involved? Jesus, why did I come here? Why was it so damn important I repay the debt I owed Gage?
But I knew the answer. Because he saved me from a drunk foster father with unzipped pants and lust on his face when we were kids. Another swallow. And because he goaded the pervert into beating him so badly there was no denying the abuse.
So yeah, I owed Gage.
“Uh, guy overdosed. I think.” I force myself to look back at him, my heart beating wildly in my throat.
“Someone you know?” His orange eyebrows lifted in question but his eyes told me he damn well knew I did.
