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Chapter Twenty-Seven
She’d never been caned before. Ever. Hudson had spanked her with all manner of things—paddles, straps, belts, gloves, and more—but she hadn’t been caned.
It scared her, but at least she’d been given a choice. Her butt was beyond sore already and she couldn’t stand the idea of being hit there again. Being even slapped on her inner thighs was the worst, so her tits were taking this punishment.
Sable swallowed as her daddy approached with a cane in his hands and she squeezed her eyes closed. Maybe she should’ve gone with her bottom—now she was going to be sore all over. It was probably too late to change her mind and she didn’t want Jethro to tease her for asking. She could be brave, she could be good, and then she’d get treated like a princess. She loved that part, Daddy petting and stroking her, kissing her, and of course making her come.
All she had to do was get through twelve cane strokes. She’d taken a hundred stripes of Hudson’s belt across her bottom before—this couldn’t be any worse than that which had left her with welts and bruises for a week.
“Ready, baby? You need to count for me. If you forget, we start over. Tell me you understand.”
“I understand, Daddy.”
She tried to be loose and accepting, but it was hard when she was nervous about what this was going to feel like. It was one thing for increasingly large plugs to be fed into her ass because she had an idea of what that would be like, but this was kind of a mystery.
Sable closed her eyes and inhaled sharply when Jethro began tapping the cane lightly across her breasts. It didn’t hurt at all; it was like he was taking his measure before he really started in.
There was a pause and then—ow, ow, ow.There was a concentrated line of burning across the tops of her breasts and it took all of her willpower to not yank herself away from the desk.
“Count, baby.”
“One, Daddy.”
“Good girl. I think you should tell me how sorry you are each time too. Or how grateful you are for having a daddy who will correct your bad behavior before it gets too out of hand.”
“Yes, Daddy, thank you, Daddy.”
“You can do better than that,” he scolded. “But next time. I don’t want this to take all night.”
And then there was another stripe of pain, the hurt radiating out from where the cane had connected with her flesh.
“Last reminder, baby,” Jethro said as he collared the back of her neck with his large, warm hand. “Count.”
“Two, Daddy. Thank you for helping me be a good girl.”
And then he said, “it’s my pleasure” before another cane strike landed and she had to choke out her count and an apology.
The next eight passed in what felt like a flurry of pain and tears and apologies. She felt very sorry indeed even as she knew she was soaking the seat of the chair. She hoped her wetness wasn’t dripping onto the floor; that’s how soaked she was.
How? How could something hurt so much but send pleasure coursing through her veins and make her shift on the seat in an effort to get the plug in her ass to give her more stimulation? Her head was swimming, she was crying and desperate, and she was—as Jethro had instructed her to say she was—both a very sorry and very grateful girl.
Jethro threaded fingers into her hair and gathered a fistful of it at the crown of her head which he used to force her into better posture and she gasped, a sound she wasn’t sure whether was pain or pleasure because the two seemed so mixed up right now.
“Last one, and then you’re finished. You’ve done a very good job and I’m proud of you.”
Sable moaned her pleasure at his praise and rocked her hips forward just as her daddy laid the last stroke across her throbbing tits.
She cried out since it was the hardest he’d hit her, and just barely choked out, “Twelve, Daddy. Thank you, thank you for correcting me. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” before she began to sob in earnest.
And then her chair was pulled away from the desk and Daddy was scooping her up, holding her snug against his chest and murmuring the sweetest things to her.
“What a good girl you were taking your punishment. Everyone makes mistakes, baby. You’re forgiven and I love you. You’re still my perfect little miss. Yes, you are.”
Jethro set her at the edge of bed and pushed her back until she was lying down, and then he was in between her thighs, cupping and squeezing her abused breasts which were sore and throbbing. It hurt, but in the very best way, and all Sable wanted to do was rock her hips against him until she came.
Worse than that, though, she wanted him inside of her. She wanted Jethro to fuck her. And even if he’d been just saying those things about putting a baby in her belly to get her horny, well, she could still pretend.
He freed his erection from his pants and rolled on a condom in short order before he notched the head of his cock at her entrance. She wanted him to thrust into her with a single stroke, but when he edged in she was reminded of the plug still stretching her ass and she was grateful he wasn’t as impulsive as she was.
