Page 51 of Cowboy Daddies

The strap was wide, nearly wide enough to be called a paddle, and it was made of heavy-duty rubber. The kind they used for tires. The kind that would stripe her backside with heavy welts and leave her sitting carefully for a couple of days.

He considered it, as he turned it over in his hands. He wondered if maybe it was a bit much for the first punishment in such a long time. His glance flicked over to her, unsurprised to see that she’d twisted enough to peek at what he was doing.

“What do you think, Allegra?” he asked, as he held it up so she could get a good look.

“It looks horrible and mean,” she blurted. Her eyes had gone wide as they fixed on his hands.

“I expect it feels horrible and mean too.” He laughed at the way her expression twisted.

His wife loved leather, and even some of their wooden toys she could enjoy. But rubber had a nastier bite and there weren’t many rubber implements that she liked, which is why he generally reserved them for punishment. And she definitely deserved this punishment but overdoing it now could cause problems with moving forward.

He went back to digging around in the drawer, until he found a paddle that would remind her of her rules, without making her regret bringing the dynamic back into play.

He placed the rubber strap in front of her. “I’ll be using the paddle next, and If you stay in place for the rest of your punishment, we’ll end with only two strokes of the strap as a reminder for future behavior.”

She swallowed audibly. “Just two?” She didn’t look up; her eyes were focused hard on the new implement.

“Yes, but every time you fall forward, or try to roll away, or attempt to evade the paddle in any way … I’ll be adding two more. So, I guess it’s up to you how much of that rubber you feel tonight. You understand me?”

“Y-yes Sir.” There was a nervous quaver in her voice.

That was to be expected. Allegra was a struggler, and once the spanking reached the point of hurting more than she could enjoy … she tended to do a lot of moving. Over-the-knee spankings could become wrestling matches because of it, and he rarely used them for punishment because of that.

He missed the more personal lap spankings, but putting her on hands and knees limited how wild the thrashing could get. It had become the default for real lessons. It wouldn’t keep her from trying though, especially with her being out of practice. They both knew she was going to earn some extra strokes tonight.

“Keep your eyes on that strap, maybe it will help you remember to stay still.” The advice probably wasn’t necessary; she hadn’t stopped staring at it yet.

He tapped her quivering backside with the paddle to warn her he was about to start and then…

Chapter Three

There was a loud crack as the paddle landed across her left asscheek. She heard it and jumped a split second before the sting arrived. She hadn’t seen which one he’d chosen from the drawer—the awful rubber toy had taken all her attention, but from the feel she could guess.

It wasn’t one of the wooden paddles she actually enjoyed, of course. Not that there were many of those she considered fun. Wood was just too ouchy, and this one, with its heavy layers of lacquer, stung more than most. But it was the raised letters, spelling out P-U-N-I-S-H across the flat surface, that made her guess all but a certainty.

Of course he’d pick that one.

She hated that paddle. The letters were only a little higher than the rest of the wood, barely even noticeable when you looked at it. But when the paddle swept down and the letters dug into her rump each one seemed to leave its own impression, and with it an ache that quickly became unbearable.

The swats were slow at first. Normally that helped, but not this time. Her tolerance for pain seemed to have vanished, leaving her struggling from the very first smack.

Crack! “I’m sorry!”

Crack! “I won’t keep any more secrets!”

Crack! “Carter, please! I mean, Sir! Sir, please!”

Her voice got higher and more desperate every time the paddle landed. She wiggled and squirmed but tried desperately to stay in place. The threat of the rubber strap was a good motivator, but it only helped for so long. Finally the paddle caught an especially tender spot on the top of her thigh, and she collapsed forward with a yelp.

Carter stopped. “That’s two more. I’ll continue adding if you don’t get back into place pretty quick, missy.”

She wanted to cry. Instead, she hauled herself back up, sniffling. “Give me another chance? Pretty please? I’ll stay in place this time.” She looked back over her shoulder with a pleading look.

He shook his head. “You earned two more and you’ll get them. If I were you, I’d try not to earn others.”

The Dom was definitely back. Oddly, considering the circumstances, she was kind of glad to see this stern side of him again. It was hard to remember that when he started swinging the paddle again.

For a while she tried to count the number of times the implement came down, but that grew harder as the punishing whacks came faster. She lost count several times and then finally gave up. All she knew was that his arm never seemed to tire and that every so often it would be too much, and not even the threat of the strap could keep her in place.