“No,” I blurted, biting my lip hard with mortification.
“Answer me properly, little girl,” he warned.
“No, Daddy,” I rushed to say, feeling my face flush much hotter than ever.
He smacked my ass several more times and the resulting sting caught me off guard. To be honest, the first few had been more of a shock and hadn’t actually hurt. My nervousness rattled through me and I couldn’t help but squirm a bit over his lap.
He was simply enjoying his fantasy. That’s all this was, right? Fantasy? He was just getting what he wanted to get his rocks off and then this all would end in his bed.
I told myself that again and again, but it did nothing to quell the fact that this felt like a very real punishment over his knee.
His palm cracked harder against the lower curve of my bottom and I gasped audibly.
“Sometimes Daddy has to be firm with a naughty little girl, doesn’t he?” he said softly.
“Yes, Daddy.” This time, my answer was almost automatic. It was as if the words were meant to fall off my lips. Maybe they were supposed to. I felt so unsure of everything that I began to question the soundness of my own mind.
He spanked me a little bit harder after that, enough to where the mild initial pain began to build into something much more intense. Each strike of his hand was like the sting of a massive bee, except multiplied by a least a hundred and they were only growing even more powerful. I tried to twist from side to side as the ache built, but his hold on my hip was strong and I soon realized that I wasn’t going anywhere even if I wanted to.
“Wait. It hurts,” I pleaded.
“You were naughty, little girl. You’ve earned a hard spanking over Daddy’s knee,” he scolded, and my pussy clenched down hard in response. Even as my fear strengthened, my arousal did too, and I could do nothing to stop it.
I must be crazy. There must be something wrong with me to have wanted this.
“That’s enough. You’ve made your point,” I squealed.
He chuckled and didn’t answer me for several moments. Instead, he used his palm to tell me exactly what he thought of my protests.
“Daddy is going to spank this bare little bottom bright red, little girl. You are being punished and Daddy is going to decide when you’ve had enough. Not you,” he finally replied.
Fuck.
If this was role play, he was really fucking good at it and that was terrifying. I felt as though I’d jumped off the edge of a cliff and the bottom was nowhere in sight. The sensation of fear was overwhelming, but his palm branded my backside a little harder and I forgot my sheer confusion over what this actually was. All I knew was how much it hurt.
“Please, Daddy,” I begged, trying to play along with him. Only it didn’t feel like I was playing anymore. It felt like the real thing.
“Your pretty little bottom is only pink, little girl,” he chided, and I keened with anxiety. For several long moments, his hand peppered my backside, and I did everything I could to keep quiet so that he didn’t know how much he was affecting me. He paused after that, edging his fingers along my thighs in a silentmaneuver that indicated how much he was aware of the terrible way my body was betraying me.
“You’re soaking wet, little girl,” he observed, and a quiet sound of mortified desperation escaped my lips. A single rough fingertip grazed against the outer edges of my pussy and I had to stifle a gasp of arousal at his boldness.
“If you’re a good girl for the rest of your spanking, Daddy might just let you come over his knee, little girl,” he murmured, and my hips arched back just as his palm smacked my bottom hard. I whimpered loudly and it was at that moment that I realized that he had been holding back before.
This was real…
This was a very real spanking, and it hurt quite a lot more than I expected it to.
I squirmed and I cried out as his hand painted my backside red. It felt as though he didn’t leave a single square inch unpunished in the entirety of my bottom and even the tops of my thighs. Those stung the most. I tried to crawl forward and escape his harsh smacks, but his hold on me was firm.
I wasn’t going anywhere.
“I’ve learned my lesson, Daddy! I’m sorry I lied. I won’t do it again,” I promised, trying to play on his fantasy even more in hopes that he might stop, but it didn’t work. The spanking continued, just as hard as before and I soon feared how much longer this might go on for. Did he intend to make me cry? Did he truly mean to punish me?
“Please stop, Daddy,” I begged.
He still didn’t listen. The spanking went on and on and I didn’t know how to process the fact that it hurt, and I couldn’t make it stop.
A very real cry fell off of my lips and he spanked me at least two dozen more times before he paused once again. By the time he finished I was gasping for breath and I had lost control of my ability to hold in my cries. I begged and pleaded for him to stop, but it soon became clear that he was going to stop when he wanted and not a moment before.
