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I needed to know he cared enough to do this for me.
I cried out softly, unable to stop myself.
“You’re okay, little girl. Daddy’s got you,” he murmured, and he traced his fingers up and down the sides of my legs. My thighs trembled a little, more from the overwhelming desire surging through me than from fear of what those hands were about to do to my naked backside. His fingers grazed along the tops of my thighs and just his thumbs glided along the insides of my legs.
“Come now. It’s time for you to go over Daddy’s knee, little girl,” he said softly as he guided me over one of his muscled thighs. He locked his other leg over the backs of mine, and I was left feeling so vulnerable that I panicked until his palm glided across the naked skin of my lower back.
My fear faded at once at his touch and I took a deep breath.
“In all your life, you’ve had one mark after another and not a single one of them ever came looking for you, did they?”
“No, Daddy,” I whimpered.
“Did I come looking for you?”
“Yes, Daddy.” My voice cracked precipitously, and I had difficulty calming my beating heart.
“Did I find you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I answered shakily.
“And when you ran from me a second time, what did Daddy do, little girl?”
“You found me again, Daddy.”
“Do you think Daddy is going to let you run from me again, little girl?” he pressed.
“No, Daddy,” I cried out, my voice shaky and small and entirely too weak. I pressed my legs together, hoping against hope that he couldn’t see just how wet his scolding was making me. I closed my eyes, still fervently wishing that I could just vanish and disappear.
“Do you think Daddy will let you hide things from him again, especially things that put your life in danger, little girl?”
His words made me feel so incredibly guilty and I knew that if this continued much longer, I’d probably cry from his chastisement alone.
“No, Daddy,” I said quietly. I blinked several times, trying to hold back how much his heavy words were weighing on me.
For a few long moments, his palm glided over my naked backside, swirling back and forth and lulling me into a temporary sense of comfort.
“You need this, don’t you, little girl. You need Daddy’s forgiveness. You need Daddy to punish you, but more than anything else, you need to know Daddy cares for you,” he continued, and all the air rushed out of my lungs in a single breath.
I did need this.
He was right.
I hated that he was right. I hated that I needed this. I hated that I was that kind of girl who needed to be taken over a man’s knee and punished.
“It’s okay to need those things, little girl. Daddy is going to give you everything you could ever need. Daddy’s cock is very hard thinking about taking care of you that way,” he said firmly, and my pussy clenched down tight.
“Please, Daddy,” I whispered, pleading and weak and so entirely exposed.
“Tell Daddy what you need,” he pushed.
I cried out and pressed my face against the couch.
“I need you to punish me, Daddy,” I finally wailed. There was no more hiding, not when he’d stripped me bare and had me pinned over his knee in preparation for a hard spanking. Not when he’d already found a way inside my walled-off heart.
“That’s my girl,” he purred, and his fingers squeezed my bottom again. This time, it was possessive and only mildly painful, and my inner walls fluttered with need.
The first time he smacked my bottom, I expected it to be hard. It wasn’t. The sound of it was harsher than its bite. I sucked in an anxious breath all the same. The second was just as hard and I found myself thinking that I could maybe survive this.
