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CHAPTER21
Briana
“Why?” I asked, trying desperately to keep my face impassive, and failing abysmally.
“You know why,” Papa Georg replied.
“But…” I said. He looked at me patiently. I didn’t have any more words, because I knew they would be lies, and I didn’t want to lie to my papa. A thrill went through my whole body at the thought. My papa might be kind, like Daddy Trevor, but he was also just like Daddy John. He would punish me for lying.
And I had already lied, when I said I didn’t mean to blow his cover.
My face went hot. Papa Georg waited a moment to see if I would say anything more, and then he spoke again.
“If I have to use the voice, Briana, you’re going to get extra.”
I felt my face crumple. I closed my eyes, and in the darkness behind my lids I pushed away the fear and found my defiance again. I needed it all.
“Where’s your paddle?” he asked, while I still had my eyes shut.
I opened them, and felt my face blaze with heat—rebellious heat as well as embarrassment.
“You think I’m going to tell you?” I asked, taking the twisting knot of mingled fear and excitement in my belly and turning it into a bad girl sneer.
The smile on his lips grew just a little.
“Get the paddle and bring it to me, sweetheart,” Papa Georg said. As always happened with the voice of authority, my body recognized the compulsion before my mind understood. I pushed myself away from the corner and the fear rose from my tummy into my chest as I observed my body doing it as much as I did it myself. I scrambled off the bed, my nightgown’s short skirt going up and showing Papa Georg much more than I wanted him to see just then.
What kind of bad girl are you? my mind demanded. You seriously care about that? After everything that happened in Garonov’s bunker?
Yes, I cared though: as I had learned all too well my modesty just refused to go away, no matter how strange and inconvenient it seemed. Though Papa Georg had seen absolutely all of me and watched Garonov and his men fuck me sideways, I still had the urge to smooth down the skirt of the red baby doll so he wouldn’t see the pout of my bare pussy.
And his command wouldn’t let me do that, because my body knew the thing my papa wanted most from me right now was obedience. I got off the bed and I knelt on the floor so I could reach under. I let out a little cry as I felt his hand on my back as he flipped up the skirt of the nightgown to expose my bottom.
Papa Georg might want obedience most, but he also clearly wanted me to feel his dominance. As I extended my right hand under the bed to find the paddle on top of my foot locker, his huge hand took hold of my whole bottom, squeezing it so firmly that I gave another cry, my hips jerking—half trying to get away from his grasp and half responding to the lewd pressure of my papa’s thick fingers on my pussy.
“This is mine now,” he said simply. “Isn’t it?”
“Oh, God,” I whispered.
Your ass is mine, a voice in my head echoed. The kind of thing the daddies in Advanced Guidance might say. Or any daddy might say it when a bad girl like me had done something terribly naughty.
The hand squeezed harder. My hand scrabbled atop the foot locker. My fingers found the handle of the paddle and tried to take hold of it, but the distraction of Papa Georg’s grip on my ass and my pussy made me clumsy.
“Answer me, Briana,” he said. “Is this mine?”
My response came as a sob from my chest. He hadn’t used the voice. I understood suddenly that he meant to ask about everything… about life, about whether I wanted to belong to my papa. The shreds of my defiance gave way.
“Yes, Papa,” I sobbed.
His hand eased its firm hold.
“Alright, then, sweetheart. Get that paddle and give it to me. It’s time to learn what that means for a bad girl like you.”
Electricity ran over my skin. In Papa Georg’s words I had heard something very different from the serious tone he had used only a moment before. He knew I needed my resistance as much as I needed to have it overcome.
I got the paddle in my hand and drew it out from under the bed.
“Fine,” I said as I stood up and turned around to face him. “Here’s the stupid paddle.”
The smile on my papa’s face got bigger. I decided that I loved all his smiles. Maybe I loved the kind, forgiving one the most. But that one definitely wasn’t the one that made me shiver all over right now—and right now that shiver felt like the thing I needed most in the world. I would never call Papa Georg’s face grim the way it looked at me as I held out the stupid paddle to him—because it was stupid—but the smile on his lips was definitely… determined.
“Your butt is going to pay for that, missy,” he said.
My eyes went wide. None of the others—not a single one of my previous daddies—had called me missy. I hadn’t even known that dismissive little word represented precisely the proper title of the naughty little girl inside me.
I did now. A match made in daddy heaven.
I drew my hand and the rest of me back a step as he reached for the paddle, upping the stakes, teasing the bear. I knew what he would do next: he would use the voice of authority again to get me over his knee.
But he didn’t. Instead, he put his hand out, grabbed my upper arm, and pulled me toward him.
