Page 16 of Reckoning


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My mouth opened, but no words came out. At once, this all seemed to make sense. Him taking down my jeans. Him ripping off my panties. Him baring my bottom and putting my nakedness on display.

He was going to spank me as punishment for what I did.

“By your silence, I take it you’ve never been spanked in your life, but that is going to change very soon. You see, Daddy is going to punish your bare little bottom until it’s bright red. I’m not going to stop when you beg me to. Daddy is going to make sure that you’re very sore and very sorry by the time he’s through with you, little girl.”

“I won’t do it. I won’t call you that. It’s wrong,” I exclaimed. It felt dirty and wicked and why the fuck was it making me even wetter? What the fuck was wrong with me?

Normal girls didn’t get spanked and normal girls didn’t call anyone Daddy.

Especially not me.

“My hand is going to hurt, little girl,” he warned.

“I don’t care,” I blurted.

“If you don’t refer to me properly by the time your punishment ends, little girl, you’re going to get a very real taste of Daddy’s belt,” he said.

A quiet cry died in the back of my throat. He couldn’t be serious. He wouldn’t.

Right?

This wasn’t real. This was simply a bad dream that I was going to wake up from at any moment. The worst part of it all was that I couldn’t even reach for my arm to pinch myself and force myself to wake up.

“You wouldn’t dare,” I sneered.

He chuckled and the effect was chilling. His laughter surrounded me like a storm, swirling around faster and faster as I lost control.

“Are you scared, little girl?” he asked softly. His hands had never stopped moving. Always gentle. Always soothing. Always in control.

“Yes,” I murmured.

“Daddy is going to take care of you. You just have to trust him,” he continued.

Why did he keep calling himself Daddy? Was he sick too? Did it make his cock hard at the same time it was making my pussy wet? Were we both as deranged as the other?

Oh, God. This was so wrong.

“Just let me go,” I pleaded. I hated that my body was surging with arousal from some deep, dark hidden depths that I never even knew existed. My body was a traitor. I should hate him for this, but I knew that I was soaking wet because of it. My one saving grace was that I could keep my legs together. He wouldn’t be able to see the effect he was having on me.

I could keep my body’s betrayal a secret. No matter what happened, he wouldn’t know his words were turning me on. He wouldn’t know how much I wanted to come.

His palm smoothed over my right cheek and then like a leaf on a harsh gust of wind, his touch vanished. Not knowing what to expect, I stilled and didn’t say anything at all.

“It’s time for Daddy to punish you, little girl. What comes next is going to hurt, but when your spanking is over, the two of us are going to talk about what you did. Do you understand me?”

I didn’t dignify him with an answer. Maybe I should have.

His palm cracked down hard on my left cheek. I squeaked in surprise more at the sound than anything else. It bounced off the stone walls all around me, reverberating off the hard cement and pounding down into the deep chasm of my soul. A second followed on the opposite side so quickly after the first that I barely had time to register that he’d spanked me again.

Disbelief rattled through me. This was really happening. I’d been caught and now one of my marks had bared my bottom and was giving me the spanking that I so richly deserved.

Did I? Had I really earned this?

My ears hurt from the sound. It was so much louder than I could have ever imagined it would be. His palm cracked twice more on either side and that’s when the sting started to rise along with it.

Sure. I knew that a spanking was a punishment. I wasn’t naïve. But I had never been spanked before. I didn’t know how much it would actually hurt.

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