“Yes, I did think about it. I knew there was a risk, and I knew I’d be in trouble with you or the mafia, but I couldn’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“Good girl, you admitted it, and I guess you know what you’re in for, right?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Kneel.” He pulled his digit from her anus, and she immediately dropped to the floor, facing the corner.
“Turn around.”
She pivoted on her knees until she was eye level with his waist and his belt. His wide brown leather belt, worn from years of wear.
“Take it off, so I can whip your bottom.”
Her hips thrust with his words, and her juices gushed, coating her labia and seeping from between the lips. Gawd, her clit wouldn’t stop throbbing.
What is wrong with me? Why does this excite my pussy?
Her hands shook uncontrollably, and she gripped the tail, pushing it through the loop on his jeans. She tugged it back to loosen the metal tooth from the hole, and once it was unhooked, she grasped the buckle—the cool, hard, unforgiving metal—in her right hand and yanked it free. The familiar slapping of leather had her bladder spasming and she strained to keep control. Her eyes filled with tears, and her body vibrated with fear... and excitement. Once the snake-like length was free from his denims, she held it up for him.
“Kiss it and ask me to spank your naughty bottom.”
Choking on a sob, she wiped away the tears silently coursing down her cheeks. “Daddy?”
“Yes, baby.”
“Can you please take this b-belt... and sp-spank my bottom. I’m sorry for doing bad things and lying.”
He bent over, kissing her nose and forehead, whispering softly, “Of course, baby. Daddy will always make sure his girl behaves; you’re so much better than this. You’ll learn, and then it’ll be all over.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He folded the belt, palming the buckle. “Stay on your hands and knees, and crawl through my legs.”
She paused, blinking at him. He’d never done this before; it was all new.
“Just do as I say, Charlotte Anne. You gave up any ability to have a say in this.”
She crawled through his open legs, and he closed his knees around her waist, leaving her restrained and defenseless, unable to clench or even move away from his punishing belt. Which, of course, was the point.
“You’re going to be a sobbing, sore mess when you go to bed tonight, but I’ll be there when it’s all over. Loving and cuddling you again. I promise.”
And those were the last words he said before his belt began its furious descent on her pristine backside. Her screams filled her ears.
Chapter Fifteen
Logan couldn’t believe the audacity of this little shit.
“You will never, ever steal my truck again. Those keys and that truck are mine. How dare you do that?”
“I’m sorry. So sorry!”
“Not as sorry as you will be, bad girl.” He lashed her now pink ass. Over and over, doing his best not to overlap.
The scamp attempted flattening herself to the floor, but he held her fast with his knees, and she attempted twisting, but he smacked her thighs.
“Stop! Keep your backside still.”
“I can’t. It hurrrrrrrts.”
“You will not get on my computer again! Or give information to others that doesn’t belong to you!”
Her sobs and screeches were melding into one long plaintive wail. He continued to stripe her raw-red ass.
Logan paused, giving her time to recover. His goal, of course, was to let the nerve endings calm down, so his next session with her would reactivate the pain. Right now, she was more than likely numb to the whipping.
Peeking between his legs, he saw Charlie had dropped her forehead to the floor, sobbing piteously.
It broke his heart. It’s not easy hearing the woman you love cry in pain. And yet, he wished he could make this punishment last as long as his heart had stayed in his throat with fear. How could she be so stupid with her life—his heart would have never healed.
She needed to learn. Needed to never behave in this manner ever again. And, dammit, he was the man to carry out her comeuppance.
Logan slipped his index finger between her red, puffy labia. Although he hadn’t intended to spank her pussy, with all her movements and her positioning, the lips of her sex were red from the attention of the belt. But slipping his finger into her sex, it became evident—fast—that his baby girl was drenched.
His girl was always wet and ready. How Miss Charlie loved a good spanking—she sobbed and begged for mercy, but her body and pussy loved every single minute of it.
He slid along the sensitive areas, pressing against her g-spot, and instantly, her pussy gushed with the plentiful fluid, dripping down his hand.
It wouldn’t take much to make her squirt... and he’d be working on that... later. Much later.
He briskly rubbed her sore, hot ass.
“Ow! Oh, it hurts.”
“It’s supposed to. You’re such a naughty girl.”
“But I meant well. I did.”
“It doesn’t matter. You put your life at risk. You put all of us at risk. And you disobeyed in a monumental manner. None of that is acceptable to me—ever.”
“Are we d-done, Daddy?”
“No, sweets. We still have to deal with your disobedience and lying.”
He watched her quietly gain control of her hiccups, and after a few moments of silence, her breathing had returned to normal. It was time. He rubbed her backside one more time. It had cooled just a bit, but her nerve endings would have rejuvenated during this time, and her ass-whooping would be that much more effective.
He steeled himself for the rest of the task. It wouldn’t be easy, even remotely. Her wails had broken his heart with the first go-round; this time would be excruciating. But this session would be where the real lesson would be learned—one neither of them would forget.
“Stick that ass up and out.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Do it regardless.” He waited until she begrudgingly rose up, arching her back before him. Her musky scent filled his nostrils.
Inhaling, Logan swung the belt high and brought it down with a hefty force, the smack of leather against skin echoing off the walls of the living room.
“Oh, fuck!”
“Watch that swearing! This is for leaving the house.” Smack, smack! “This is for sending files when you knew you shouldn’t.” Smack, smack! “And this is for knowing you shouldn’t disobey and doing it anyway. It’s called rebellion and disobedience.” He flayed her ass, welts rising to the surface of her mottled backside.
Charlie waggled her bottom, sobbing and pleading for mercy. “Please. Oh, please. Daddy. I’m s-sorry.”
“Will you do it again?” He slapped the belt harshly.
“No!”
“Are you sure?”
Sobbing, her fingernails clawing at the floor, she shouted, “No—I mean, yes!”
“Tell Daddy!”
“I w-won’t touch your c-computer—Ow!”
“You will. Listen. To. Orders!”
“Yes, oh, God, yes!”
He smacked her ass several more times, focusing on her sit spots.
Her sobs and hiccups had his breath catching. His poor girl. He patted her sweet red bottom. She’d be sore tomorrow... and probably the next day as well. But he was confident that a lesson had been learned today.
Gripping the belt firmly, he raised it and with no warning, smacked her ass several more times, right on the meatiest part of her rear end. “You lied and told me you didn’t remember the rules or why Daddy put his finger in your bottom hole. No. More. Lying.”
The last three words were accentuated with very harsh lashes, and then he threw the belt onto the floor, the buckle clattering on the wood.
“It’s time for you to go to bed, princess.”
Bending over, he helped his baby girl stand, and then w
hen her knees threatened to buckle, he scooped her up. Her small, petite frame felt comfortable in his arms. His sweet little brat, such a naughty minx.
Tears coursed down her face, and she hadn’t stopped crying yet, and to be honest, he wasn’t even sure she really had comprehended that the spanking had ended.
Walking into his bathroom, he whispered, “Charlie, sweetie?”
“Y-yes, Daddy?”
“You need to go potty before bed. It’s going to hurt sitting on the toilet, but let’s get this out of the way now, then you can sleep all night.”
“Ohhhhh.”
“I know, sweets. I’ll help.” He held under the arms, standing her before the toilet. “Bend your knees a bit and squat.”
She didn’t hesitate to do as he stated, and he held her just above the toilet so her sore hind end wouldn’t make contact with the porcelain. The urine hissed from her body into the water, and when she was done, he stood her back up, wiping her carefully before carrying her into his room again.
Logan strategically placed her on her side, keeping the brunt of her welted ass off the sheets, and he covered her with the sheet. Reaching into the nightstand, he pulled out the hairbrush he’d used to spank her, and ran it through her long tresses.
She sighed, her eyes heavy, and she smiled at him. “That feels nice.”
“I thought it would. I’m sorry you’re so sore, baby. But I refuse to apologize for your punishment. I’ll brush your hair until you fall asleep, and then I’ll come back later... you need to sleep. My poor girl.”
After brushing her hair for no more than five minutes, her eyes began to flutter with her sleep, her body hiccupping from her sobbing.
Poor naughty girl.
It wasn’t easy disciplining his woman. People always wanted to be a dom or daddy, but they didn’t realize the responsibility that came with the title... or the work. It was fun, no doubt, and the sex was off the charts, but when it came time to discipline or punish, the angst of the role weighed heavily upon the dominant.
He worried that he might go too far and push her away. What if this disciplinary session caused her to leave? Would she become wary of him? There was a possibility she wouldn’t trust him... it was a delicate balance of punishing harsh enough that the behavior would be halted, but not far enough to ruin her spirit. And, of course, disciplined enough to meet her submissive needs versus punishing too harshly, offending her. Finding the balance wasn’t always easy. Communication was the key with grace and love. Unconditional love, especially during discipline.
A girl desired and needed to know that even if she disappointed or crossed a boundary, she would be loved implicitly. That her dom and daddy would be there to wipe away her tears, massage her bottom, and make sweet love to her—filling every part of her.
He loved her sassy, fiery personality. It made life exciting, and yet, it was her independent, rebellious nature that caused most of their conflict. Once she settled into her new life and wasn’t broken, but was reined in, her submission would be beautiful.
It was no different training a dog or horse; their submission was best with an owner they trusted and respected. The submissive needed to know without a shred of doubt they were loved and cared for with a desire to please their owner and not disappoint or incur the wrath of the dominant. And above all else, a tinge of fear—more of the implement used as a deterrent—was what kept them on the straight and narrow. But the love of the dominant and need for praise and reward were the most essential elements of the submissive’s success.
Of course, all of this was done daily—checking on them often and asking if your woman had eaten all her meals or how she slept the night before, watching that she didn’t stretch herself too thin. Letting the submissive know that she was the center of the dominant’s life and thoughts—not just every now and then, but always.
His baby girl—Daddy’s little rich girl.
He stopped brushing her hair, now that her breathing had become normal with no hiccups. And he stared at her face, twirling her locks and raking his hands through her hair.
How did I become so lucky?
Tonight and tomorrow he’d go out of his way to pamper her, catering to her every whim, letting her know that she was completely forgiven and hopefully his heart would come to terms with what he’d done—what was necessary.
He’d do whatever was required... he couldn’t—wouldn’t—lose her. Not now. Not ever. To anyone.
Chapter Sixteen
Charlie stretched in the bed, rolling onto her back, only to be startled awake by the searing pain that coursed through her ass.
Holy fuck. I did it this time.
She rolled up onto her side, brushing her fingers gingerly along her abraded skin. She felt small, thin welts on the surface of her bottom, and she winced, knowing that her ass would be mottled with bruises and welts.
However, it wasn’t like she didn’t deserve it; some people would say she had asked for it—had gone out of her way to ask for it even.
She knew some of her friends and coworkers would say Logan was too controlling and domineering.
But Charlie knew that what fueled had her disciplinary session last night was fear. Fear, love, caring, and concern. It was amazing how in just a handful of weeks, although it felt like longer in some respects, they had become so close, and she cared for him as well.
Charlie would rather he show his care—and fear—in a less painful manner, but it didn’t appear that would be happening anytime soon.
She wondered how Gavin was, and part of her was glad that Logan’s man and the FBI would be keeping track of him, thereby keeping her best friend safe. She appreciated Gavin’s loyalty and willingness to put his safety and concerns for his own well-being behind hers, and she would probably never be able to repay him for the treasure of his friendship. At least Logan would assure Gavin didn’t become injured or die during this mess, and if she had to guess, Gavin would continue investigating and find himself in hot water as well.
Wouldn’t that just be the way of things?
Gavin thought it was so funny she had stumbled into a relationship with a very stern, dominant man, and yet, now that he had become embroiled in the Tomasso mess, he may actually find himself with a harsh dominant too.
With a deep sigh, she decided she better get up and start her day. Tossing the covers aside, she slowly swung her feet over the edge, doing her best to get her feet to touch the floor without scraping her blistered ass along the sheets.
The door to the bedroom swung open, and Logan stood with a tray in his hand and halted immediately, his head canting a bit. “Why are you getting out of bed?”
“I need to use the bathroom. You know... start my day and take a shower.”
“Watch your tone and attitude, little girl.” Lifting the tray with both hands, he gave a nonverbal direction, adding, “Get back in bed. I made you breakfast.”
“But I need to pee.”
“Right now you don’t. Besides I have plans for you and a full bladder will make it better. Just sit back and eat your breakfast.”
What the fuck did that mean?
She had read in books about men having a thing for golden showers and heard a full bladder made orgasms insanely intense. Maybe that’s what he meant?
She looked down at her tray. Home fries, scrambled eggs with spinach and cheese, and he had even fried up some bacon. There was orange juice and coffee made just the way she liked it. He had been watching, keeping track of her favorites, and her heart warmed that he had noticed all the little things.
Picking up her fork, she stabbed a bite full of eggs and put them in her mouth. The taste of cheese and spinach had her eyes rolling with the deliciousness.
“It tastes good?” Logan’s eyebrows raised in question.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good.”
He sat watching her, and suddenly, she realized she’d been wolfing it down and not even caring he wasn’t eating with her.
“Daddy?�
�
“Yes, baby?”
“Are you going to eat?”
“I had a little food earlier. I want to watch you eat.”
It seemed odd, and uncomfortable to know he was just observing. Swallowing the last bit of food in her mouth before speaking, she said, “I’m sorry about last night, Daddy.”
He stroked the back of his hand down the side of her face. “I know, princess. But it’s all over and forgiven. Daddy spanked your little bottom, and now the slate has been wiped clean. We start over. You’re a good girl, Daddy’s girl, and my princess. I’ll spoil you today. No chores or doing anything. You can sit on the couch and watch your favorite shows or movies. I want you to rest that backside up and feel my love for you.”
Love? Did he just say he loved me?
Her face must have shown her surprise.
“What? Oh, that.” He winked at her. “Yeah, I’ve fallen in love with you, Charlie. My little rich girl and her filthy, dirty daddy.”
“It sounds so... filthy when you say it like that.”
“But that’s why you’re squirming. And why you like it, am I right?”
Damn him!
He was right... something about the lurid phrasing, the contrast between blue collar and white collar, dirty and rich had her clit throbbing.
She liked being his little rich girl as he put it. Something about it felt right, and the naughty minx in her loved it.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“That’s what I thought.” He kissed her forehead and, tapping the edge of her plate, said, “Now eat up.”
It didn’t take long to finish it all; she even wiped the plate clean with her wheat toast. Leaning back against the pillows, she patted her tummy. “That was amazing. Feel free to do that again.”
He chuckled, picking up the tray and placing it on the nightstand before tossing the covers aside, and then he pushed his pajama pants down. His cock had been tenting them uncomfortably outward for the duration of her meal, and with the newly found freedom, it waved rhythmically in front of him.
Her pussy gushed just looking at it, and she opened her legs a bit in invitation.
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