Page 86 of Reckoning


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“Will you punish me, Daddy?” I asked and my voice trembled with every syllable. His eyes lit up, glittering with pride and a love that only seemed to deepen with time.

“Strip for me, little girl. Daddy will happily turn that pretty bottom bright red so that you remember to be obedient for him,” he coaxed.

I shuddered hard with arousal as I tentatively reached behind my back and unclasped my bra. The silky material fell away from my body and my nipples pebbled into stiff little peaks once I saw that his gaze was on them. I slipped my fingers under the waistband of my panties. With even more hesitation, I slowly lowered them down my hips. Once they fell down to the floor, he held his hand out expectantly.

With a soft cry of shame, I knelt down, picked them up, and placed them in his waiting palm. He arranged them so that the seat was plainly visible, as was the wet spot my pussy had left behind.

“You’re very wet for a little girl about to be spanked hard over her daddy’s knee,” he observed, and I blushed even harder as a single drop of my arousal dripped down my inner thigh.

His eyes searched my face and I squirmed, unable to hide any of my shame under his intense scrutiny.

“Lie over my knee, little girl,” he said firmly, and I slowly did as he asked. I felt so naked and bare and when my pussy pressed against his thigh, I balked and pushed back.

“But I’ll get all over your pants,” I exclaimed, and he forcibly pressed me back into place.

“That’s what dry cleaning is for, isn’t it, little girl,” he answered firmly. “Perhaps I’ll even tell the dry-cleaning attendant that I had to put my naughty wife over my knee for a hard spanking. Perhaps I’ll also tell her that it made you wet enough to leave a wet spot on my thigh.”

I keened with embarrassment, knowing that he wouldn’t hesitate to do just that. If anything, he’d probably even take me with him when he did it.

His hand brushed over my backside and I stiffened before his fingers slipped in between my thighs.

“Daddy likes that you get this wet before you get a spanking. It makes him very hard,” he said as those same fingers circled around my needy clit. I couldn’t help myself as I ground back into him, wanting and needing to feel his touch with a sort of wild desperation that I could not even remotely hope to contain.

“Daddy, please,” I murmured.

“You took your pleasure last night without permission,” he began, and I stilled.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Do you think you’ve earned the right to come for Daddy again so soon?”

“No, Daddy,” I sighed, and his hand drew away from between my thighs. My clit pulsed painfully with his denial as his fingertips grazed against the bareness of my bottom.

“What needs to happen first?” he pressed gently.

“You need to spank me, Daddy,” I breathed. I was practically trembling over his lap.

“I do, don’t I?” he said and quickly maneuvered me so that his knee was between my thighs. His other leg pinned over the backs of mine.

His palm cracked against my backside and his fingertips just brushed on the inner curve of my buttocks. He did it again and I was sure that he intended to punish the inside my cheeks along with the rest of my bottom.

I didn’t expect him to start spanking me this hard. Once I realized that he fully intended to sear a message into my backside on our wedding night, I didn’t even try to keep quiet.

He punished me firmly and before I could even stop myself, I was apologizing for touching myself against his instruction. I begged and pleaded with him to show me mercy even though I knew that he wouldn’t.

It made me wetter just knowing that.

That didn’t stop the spanking from hurting though. I twisted and turned as much as I could over his thigh, knowing without a doubt that my wetness would be visible all over it once he was done. I tried to take every smack gracefully, but it soon proved difficult because he was making sure that I felt his hard hand over every last inch of my backside.

He even spread me open so that he could thoroughly punish between my cheeks.

I groaned the loudest for those.

He then spanked my thighs, making sure that they stung just as much as the rest of me, if not more.

“Please, Daddy,” I cried out, having difficulty taking the spanking the longer it went on. His palm always seemed to grow harder and more punishing with every smack and this felt no different.

“Do you decide when a punishment ends, little girl?”

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