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Oh, fuck. Oh. It hurt a lot.
I wasn’t ready for this, but it wasn’t looking like I had much of a choice. His palm was ruthless and terrible and incredibly hard. It cracked against my naked cheeks, over and over again until my skin felt like it was on fire. It had started as a gradual burn, but with every last spank it escalated until it felt like a flame was scalding my flesh. He didn’t just punish the fullest part of my bottom either.
He moved to the upper curves of my ass, ensuring to punish every inch with that wickedly cruel palm. When he spanked the place where my bottom met my thighs, I cried out because the sting was so much more intense there. I struggled to take it, but I was bound, and I wasn’t going anywhere until he let me go.
This was a punishment. A very real punishment and I couldn’t use my words or my looks or anything I’d been trained to do to get out of it. I was trapped in the leather cuffs with my vulnerable bottom presented for chastisement. With my arms pulled out wide and my ankles bound, I couldn’t really turn my body. I couldn’t squirm or twist away to stop his cruel punishing hand. I was his prisoner. I’d stolen from him and he was taking out his revenge on my naked flesh.
“Please. Stop. I’ll figure out how to get your money back,” I pleaded.
He ignored me.
“Begging won’t help you, little girl. Daddy knows that you need to be punished. Daddy knows what you need,” he said firmly, and I pressed my forehead against the sheets beneath me in stark disbelief.
There it was again.
Daddy.
When the term fell off his lips, my core tensed hard each time. Even though my breasts were entirely covered, I knew that my nipples were scraping against the soft lace of my bra. Even worse, I knew that my arousal was beginning to gather between my thighs in earnest. I was so turned on and I didn’t want to be.
Something was seriously wrong with me.
There was probably something wrong with him too.
His cruel hand spanked my upper thighs for the first time, and a quiet keening noise escaped my lips before I could stop it. Maybe that spurred him on because he began punishing my thighs harder than ever.
“Such a pretty bottom, little girl. It’s even more beautiful when Daddy spanks it bright pink,” he mused.
Bright pink? Hell, it felt like it should be purple by now.
I twisted my hips as much as the chains would allow, but that didn’t stop him. His palm turned even more punishing after that. If I hadn’t known that it was his hand, I would have thought it was something else. A block of wood maybe. I didn’t know. All I knew was that this was more painful than I ever could have imagined.
“Please stop,” I begged.
“You were a bad little girl, weren’t you?” he asked. “Daddy has to take you in hand when you’re naughty,” he scolded and for some reason the insanity of his words touched me far more than I wanted. Deep down, I hated my work and I hated that I had to hurt people to do it, but it was a job, and I did what I had to do.
“Please don’t,” I pleaded.
“Daddy’s got you, little girl,” he murmured gently even though his hand was the exact opposite. His palm was cruel and harsh as it cracked against my flesh over and over no matter how much I wanted it to stop.
The true extent of my loss of control really settled over me. All my life, I’d been independent. I hadn’t needed anyone. Never needed anyone and now that my bottom was bare and stinging so much that I wondered if he’d make me cry, I didn’t know what to do.
I didn’t know if there was anything I could do.
My bottom was on fire and there was no end in sight. For a moment, he paused, tracing his roughened palm over top of my scalded flesh.
The pain lessened, but it was still there. I’d be sore for some time. I knew that, yet something else hurtled forward that caught me by complete surprise.
My desire surged forward like a slingshot, like it had been waiting for him to stop so that it could surface and take over every last inch of me. My core swirled with need and nothing I could do would make it stop.
My thighs slid against one another and I came to another mortifying conclusion.
I was so much wetter than before.
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Not just by a little bit either. I was soaking wet. My inner thighs were covered with it and that’s when he decided to slowly trace his fingers along the lower curve of my bottom until he traced part of my inner leg.
“You think you can keep secrets from me, don’t you, little girl?” he asked.
