Page 171 of Cowboy Daddies

He kissed my cheek and I felt a peace I’d never known settle over me.

“Ready?” he asked softly.

“Ding, ding, class is in session.” I smiled as I reached up to ring the pretend bell.

His chuckle was the most beautiful sound and when that first smack landed, I joined the chorus with a cry and for some reason only the two of us would ever understand, it was the first note of the most glorious song I’d ever sing.

Well, at least that first verse was. However, by the time the chorus began again, I was singing a totally different tune.

“Ow, that hurts!” I cried, adding lyrics to this song.

“Spankings are supposed to hurt, little girl. Otherwise it’s called petting.”

“Then pet me!” I demanded, reaching for the footboard in hopes I could obtain some sort of leverage to haul myself off his lap.

“That comes after,” he said, applying a pair of smacks to my right buttock before repeating the pair on my left.

“After what?”

“This little bottom is nice and red, of course,” he said as if anyone with a brain could figure that out.

How he could spank, talk nonsense, and haul me back from the mere inch forward I’d achieved was a mystery. “It’s red, it’s sooooo red!” I cried as I abandoned the footboard and flung my hands back to cover my blazing bottom.

“Some Little pixie needs her eyes checked,” he said, capturing both my wrists and pinning them to my lower back.

I gave him my most pathetic pleading look as I turned back to gaze up at him. Of course, if I hadn’t had to puff hard enough to attempt to move my hair off my face, I was sure it would have been more effective. As it was, he did give me a break as he used his spanking hand to brush the errant curls back over my shoulder. I forgot all about pleading when my gaze dropped to my behind.

“It’s barely pink! How is that possible?”

He chuckled. “Funny how one’s mind can paint a different story, isn’t it, pixie? Before we continue remember two things. Daddy will never harm you⁠—”

“But—”

“I’ll spank you which will hurt, but I’d die before I’d ever harm you, Livvy.”

“I know,” I said and then sighed. “What’s the other thing?”

“That you can use the traffic light if you need.”

When my mouth opened a second time, he laid a finger across my lips. “A safe word isn’t to be used simply because your butt might be burning, and it won’t stop the spanking, but it will pause it if you need.” He let that bit of info sink in before quirking his eyebrow and asking, “So, tell me, pixie, do you need to safeword?”

“No, Sir, but just so you know, my butt might be pink but it is already getting pretty hot.”

“Too hot?”

How unfair is that question? I so wanted to say yes but knew that was a lie. “No, Daddy, it’s not that hot I guess.”

He smiled. “Then we’re good to go.”

When his arm lifted, I cried, “Wait!”

His hand froze and his eyebrow rose again. It was a pose I suddenly knew I’d be adding to that drawing he’d commissioned. “Um, I just wanted to say in case I forget by the time my butt is really red, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

That was all I required to stop trying to fight the very thing I needed. This time when the strokes began, I accepted each one as the gift it truly was. And when the quilt beneath my face was soaked with my tears, he lifted me into his arms and rocked me with a gentleness that healed my soul.

When I opened my eyes, it was to find his and when I smiled, his lips curled as well. And when I pushed my palms against his chest, he knew I wasn’t pushing him away, but that I was ready. He laid back and lifted me from his lap so I could control the ride. Once I was straddling his hips, I gasped as his erection brushed against my roasted ass. I purposely shifted in order to brush against it again and again and then again.