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“Do you decide when your spanking ends?” he continued.
“No, Daddy,” I wailed.
My punishment continued longer and harder after that. My entire focus was forced on my scalded flesh and the more it continued, the more frustrated I became. I fought him and he only smacked my bottom more firmly, the sting burning deep into my core and settling in my clit.
“Please. I’m sorry!” I begged.
“I know you are, little girl. That’s why you’re over Daddy’s knee, aren’t you?” he pressed.
“Yes, Daddy, please. It hurts,” I pleaded.
He spanked my thighs firmly and without mercy and before I knew it, my breath hitched in the back of my throat and I squeezed my eyes shut as hard as I could.
I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want him to know he’d won.
His leg released mine and he readjusted me again so that my body was draped across one of his thighs. He angled me so that his one leg forced mine to remain open and then his fingers slipped between my thighs once more.
I knew what he’d find.
I was so fucking wet and that made me so angry. He’d spanked me for a third time and I’d almost cried, and still, it left me feeling so aroused that it was impossible to hide. His digits easily glided along my wetness and I snarled with fury as he captured my clit between two and teased me.
It made me mad that my body responded to him instantly. I couldn’t stop the way my nipples were tight with desire and the way my hips rolled as his fingers explored my flesh.
“Your little bottom is bright red, and this pretty little pussy is soaking wet,” he observed, and a jolt of pleasure centered in my clit. It throbbed hard with need and I wrestled with the anger inside me even as rampant need coursed through my veins. I squirmed against him and that only served to rub my clit even more firmly against his fingers.
His palm grazed over my backside and he spanked each side incredibly hard before his fingers dove back between my thighs.
“It makes Daddy’s cock very hard to spank this little bottom. It’s going to make me even harder when I punish you with my belt,” he warned darkly, and a hard shudder raced down my spine.
“No, please!” I begged.
His fingers worked my clit, edging me close to orgasm once again and I keened as pain and pleasure went to war inside me. I curled my hips inward, arching back and forth and even though I tried everything in my power not to give in, I soon found myself grinding against his fingers because I wanted release. I needed it.
His fingers worked faster, pinching and circling my clit with frantic intensity and just when I was about to come, he pulled his hand away. His denial cut through me like a knife and I cried out with shock. He released his hold on my hip and I whimpered as my unreleased desire bit deep into my core. I needed to come so badly that it was beginning to hurt. It was also fueling the anger deep inside me and nothing I could do would stop it.
“Please. I can’t,” I pleaded.
“On your knees. You’re going to watch as Daddy takes off his belt,” he instructed, his tone stern and I knew better than to argue. Cautiously, I made myself climb off his lap. He watched as I knelt on the soft carpet before him and I found myself staring at the floor, exceedingly aware that a single drop of my own wetness was sliding down my right inner thigh. I’d never felt that before. I swallowed my shame and tried to hide the way my face was heating with every bit of it.
“Look at me, little girl. If you take your eyes off my belt, you’ll go back over my knee for another spanking before your belting,” he warned, and my breath caught in the back of my throat. I forced my eyes to his waist, watching as his hands descended to his belt buckle with purposeful intention. My own hands fidgeted in front of me and I faltered as I tried to figure out where to put them.
“Hands behind your back. Present those beautiful breasts and spread those pretty thighs for me. Daddy wants to see every inch of you,” he instructed.
Slowly, I spread my knees and folded my hands together at the small of my back. My eyes locked onto the brown leather of his belt. It was well worn in and thick. He slid the end through the buckle and pulled it taut enough to undo the metal prong. The swishing sound of the leather sliding against leather was hypnotic and when he pulled it free from his slacks, I felt another drop of arousal glide down my thighs.
This was going to hurt. Why was it making me even wetter?
He folded it in half, watching me intently as he did so. His eyes dropped to look at my breasts and down between my thighs.
“Such a wet little pussy,” he mused, and I flushed hot with shame at his observation. I wanted to close my legs. I wanted to hide, but there was something in me that kept myself on display for him. There was a part of me that wanted to obey him.
That wanted to please Daddy.
“Does your bottom hurt, little girl?” he asked.
I scowled back at him for a long moment before I remembered myself.
“Yes, Daddy,” I replied, unable to hide my annoyance at the way my body was responding. His eyes narrowed and his lips turned up in a tiny smirk. He was enjoying this.
