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James stepped up behind her, interrupting her wayward thoughts, and tugged her PJs and panties to her knees. “Feet on the floor and hands in front of you, or the stroke doesn’t count.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He stepped away, and the clinking of his belt buckle sent her heart racing. All these years together and the sound still made her tremble.
The first stroke caught her by surprise, as it always did. Olivia squealed at the deep burn, but before she could voice her discomfort, the second fell.
She grabbed at the duvet, clutching it in her hands to keep herself in place. He was going for the fast, hard whipping tonight. The kind that layered pain over pain until all she knew was agony.
It was somewhere around the twelfth stroke when she found her voice. “Daddy! It hurts!”
“It’s supposed to hurt.” The belt connected twice more, her cries melding with the crack of the leather. “This is what happens to little girls who disobey their daddies.”
“I’m sorry!” It was more plea than apology, a long, drawn-out wail begging for mercy.
“Are you going to listen to Daddy?”
“Yes! Promise!” She pressed her toes into the carpet, keeping her feet in place by sheer force of will. The instinct to kick up and cover her bottom was strong, but her bottom ached and burned and she just wanted it over so her Daddy would hold her.
“Last five, little one. Stay in place.”
She was staying in place! Why did he need to remind her to do something she was already doing?
Her answer was delivered in a line of fire across the tops of her thighs. Goddammit, she hated that spot! She buried her face in the duvet, and every ounce of energy she possessed was channeled into staying still.
The next four were delivered with measured precision across her thighs. By the time the final stroke fell, she was exhausted from the effort it had taken to stay in place. A rough hand stroked her bottom and she whimpered at even that soft contact.
“Poor baby. Daddy’s so proud of you. You didn’t even move once.”
Now that the whipping was over, she had nothing to focus on but the pain in her bottom. Her breath hitched, a sob catching in her throat as the agony overwhelmed her.
James stretched out on her bed and held his arms open to her. Accepting the invitation, she scrambled up and curled into him. The moment his arms closed around her, the dam broke, and she cried against his chest, months and months of silent worry and fear finally being purged from her system.
“That’s my good girl,” he crooned, stroking a hand over her hair as she wept. “I love you, Livvy. So much.”
“I l-love you t-too. I’m s-sorry I didn’t l-listen.”
“I know. It’s all behind us now. Clean slate.”
There was nothing left to say that they hadn’t already said. Letting his comfort surround her, she pressed her face into his chest and wept until she had no tears left inside of her.
When it was over, she felt hollowed out, but in a good way. Like all of the bad feelings had been scooped out of her and thrown away.
“Feel better, little one?” he asked when she snuggled closer with a quiet whimper.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Let’s get to bed, then.”
Sitting up, she winced at the flash of pain when her welted bottom pressed into the mattress. She’d definitely be careful to follow Daddy’s instructions.
At least for a little while.
Chapter6
Standing in front of the mirror in their bathroom, Olivia craned her neck to see if there were any marks left from the night before. She pressed her fingers against a slightly discolored spot, savoring the flash of pain. Other than that one little spot, the welts and redness were gone, with only a slight lingering ache to remind her of the multiple punishments she’d endured.
As strange as it may have seemed to anyone else, she was disappointed by the lack of marks and discomfort. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a punishment or even a play session that had stayed with her the next day. Resigned to a day of sitting comfortably, she walked into the bedroom to get ready for work.
