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She put her hands on her hips and pouted. “But what did I do!?”
“You tell me. What was the very first and most important rule Daddy gave you?”
I watched her expression as she wracked her brain for the answer. She bit her lip and scrunched up her forehead, before finally meeting my gaze with a determined one of her own. “You said I’m beautiful and intelligent, and if I say otherwise, there would be consequences.”
“So, you understand why you’re getting a spanking.” She glowered at me and lowered her eyes from mine as pink crept over her cheeks.
“All new parents worry they’ll mess up. Becoming a good parent is a learning process. I’ll be right there learning along with you.” I said reassuringly.
I watched as her breath gradually slowed and she seemed to relax. I pointed to the chair, “Bend over and rest your palms on the back like a good girl.” She obeyed, her body delicately balanced between nervousness and surrender.
Faith trembled as I brought my hand up to caress her bottom. I slowly caressed the shape of her buttocks.
Gradually, I lifted her skirt up onto her back. “Daddy likes it when you wear pretty skirts like this so he has access to your panties.” With that, I yanked said underwear to the floor.
She gasped as my fingertips ran along the silky softness of her naked flesh. To warm things up a bit before we got started, I lightly smacked each cheek a few times. “I love the way your bottom turns pink at the lightest blow. You’re so perfect.”
When she was ready for more, I delivered firm strokes across both buttocks—not too hard, but painfully enough so she’d remember why it was important to follow my rules next time around. As each swat landed on its mark, she yelped out in surprise, then released a breath as if letting go of all the tension that had been building up inside.
I spanked her next with unrelenting intensity. The tip of my cock throbbed with each strike, as she writhed and gasped beneath me. Her pert ass quivered deliciously under my palm, and I reminded myself this punishment was for her own good.
With a slow, unrelenting tempo, I slapped her bottom. The tender skin of her buttocks rippled under my hands as each strike landed, eliciting a soft moan from her lips. Her skin turned cherry red as I smacked her. I informed her, “One day I’ll frost this pretty red ass white with my cum”.
Oddly, she giggled at that remark. “What’s so funny little girl?” I inquired, raising an eyebrow.
Her mouth twitched with a mischievous grin. “If you do, my butt will look just like the Creamy Crimson Bliss red velvet cupcakes at Sparkles Bakery!”
“Your spanking isn’t supposed to make you laugh, angel,” I said sternly. “It’s a punishment for your lapse in judgment.”
I gave her a few moments to compose herself before continuing. “I’m not expecting perfection from you, but I do expect accountability when it comes to your actions—especially when it comes to respecting yourself and others. Are we clear?”
She nodded in agreement and I continued.
Swat after swat, I kept spanking her until she wriggled and let go of the chair. “Arms in place, pretty girl. If you can’t listen, I’ll have to punish you further.”
She slapped her hands down. “I’m sorry already, Daddy! I won’t do it again!”
I paused and delicately ran my fingers along her flushed face. “I really hope not, angel, but if you do, I won’t hesitate to tie you down,” I said, gently placing my palm on the small of her back. “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson about negative self-talk?”
“Definitely,” she declared, quickly averting her gaze to the ground.
My command came out in a growl, tense from frustration with her and the need to bury my cock in her sweet pussy. “Say it, Faith. The words we agreed upon.”
She paused. “I’m beautiful. I’m smart.”
“And what kind of parent will you be?” I prompted.
Her response was cheeky. “One who has a lot to learn.”
“Fair enough.” I capitulated.
I worked my fingers into her, and the most exquisite sound came from her throat. A cross between a moan and a sigh of pleasure.
Soothing her, I slowly slid her panties on and pulled her skirt down. Gathering her to my chest, I ran my hand through her hair. “I’m so proud of you, angel,” I whispered, kissing the top of her head. “It’s alright, Daddy’s here. Trust me, I get scared too sometimes.”
Faith drew back, eying me narrowly. “You’re messing with me. Since when is a big, bad firefighter afraid of anything? You drag people out of burning buildings for a living, for heaven’s sake.”
Taking a deep breath, I chose my words with caution. I accepted all her shortcomings,—would she do the same for me? “I’m a firefighter and medic. So many of us struggle with PTSD, or worse—death by suicide or drugs. I understand what it’s like to battle anxiety on your own. It doesn’t work. Instead of hiding from our fears, we can name them, deal with them, and make life better. As a team. Trust me—we’ve got this.”
