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“Oh yeah, this is much better,” Archer murmured, taking the bag from him and rummaging through it. When he pulled out an implement, I squeezed my eyes shut and looked away again. I didn't want to know.
“You ready to learn your lesson, little girl?”
The right answer wasyes, Daddy, but I couldn't say it. “Will you call me your good girl when it's over?” I needed his praise again like I needed my next breath.
He ran his hand over my back. “Only if you earn it. Let's see how well you take your punishment, hmmm?” He paused, lifting his claiming hand and tapping my bottom lightly. “Oh, and Audrey? Daddy’s going to need you to keep your eyes open. Knowing everybody can see you getting your naughty bottom spanked and whatever else I decide to do, is part of the punishment.”
I swallowed hard. Of all the things I anticipated him expecting from me, that had not been on my radar. It made sense though, and he was right, it added a whole new element to the punishment. It was also going to make it a whole lot harder to earn the praise I so desperately craved. But I was determined. It was the one thing that would make this whole night worth it. Taking a deep breath, I popped my eyes open on the exhale. “Yes, Daddy.”
Staring straight ahead, I was thankful that the spanking bench he picked faced the bar where most people seemed to be facing away and not really focused on the action in front of them. Naturally I realized there were people on both sides and behind me, but if I couldn't see them they didn't count. That's what I was telling myself anyway.
“I'll be right back.” Archer tapped my bottom again before walking away. Though I was trying hard to ignore the crowds around me, I couldn't help but follow him with my eyes.
He walked to a table on the side wall where his friends were seated, their eyes on me. I watched as he exchanged a few quick words.
I wonder what that's about.
He strode quickly back toward me, and as he did, I caught a glimpse of the wooden paddle in his hand and wished I hadn't. Wood was my nemesis. I hated it. Of course, that's what makes it the perfect choice for the punishment I had coming and that's what I focused on.
I messed up. And I understood that the blame wasn’t all on me. I even knew that Archer recognized that as well. That fact made it easier to accept the part that did fall on my shoulders, and the punishment for which that was about to fall on my butt.
My eyes tried to close but I forced them to stay open. There was a woman in front of me standing with her feet wide apart, dressed in red leather from head to toe, holding a whip. I made her my focal point as she spoke sharply to a nearly naked male submissive kneeling on the floor in front of her feet.
He leaned over to kiss her boots and I stifled a giggle. I didn't realize that was a real thing. I couldn't imagine doing it, though I knew Archer’s shoes—expensive Italian loafers— would be clean enough.
Then he licked them, his tongue long and graceful as it glided over the leather. My pussy clenched, watching what felt like an intimate moment, until I started to fantasize about being in the same position.
Then the wood cracked against my ass, startling me back into my own intimate moment and I screamed. The paddle was large, covering the width of my ass with its surface and butting up against the base of the plug, shoving it deeper inside me.
“Oh!”
“Naughty girl trying to snoop on Daddy’s phone.” Archer went straight for the gut with his lecture and my cheeks burned with shame. What had I been thinking? Even in my worst relationships, I’d never acted that way, even when I probably should have.
When the next swat came, I was ready for it and I forced myself to feel the pain and the weight of the punishment.
I wanted this scene to be everything Archer wanted it to be. Even if it hurt, even if it was scary, even if I was humiliated by the public setting. I would take it like Daddy’s good girl and prove to him that I was. And then, when it was over, I’d finally hear the words my soul longed for.
Good girl. Good girl. Good girl.They beat inside my brain on repeat, in time with the paddle. It made it easier to take, at least at first.
But each swat pushed the butt plug, shoving it deeper inside me, stretching my hole. I imagined it pushed to its limits, getting ready for Daddy’s cock. I wanted it. But not here.
“Trust is important to me,” Archer lectured above the pulsing music and the sound the paddle made against my flesh. “I want you to trust me and I need to be able to trust you.”
Trust. It was such a simple concept, and yet so difficult. Had I ever really had it in any aspect of my life? I thought back to my childhood, and past relationships. The only thing I had been able to trust in those relationships was that I would be wrong no matter what I did.
I was wrong now, but it felt different. I actually was in the wrong. And my reasons had been understood and heard. I hadn’t been put down, screamed at, gaslit, or manipulated. Instead I’d been shown off, let in, and told I was important. Daddy was punishing me, not to let out his anger, or to break me down, but to help us both move on and forward.
He was spanking in earnest, the paddle barely leaving my backside before crashing down again. Pain bloomed and burned; my whole ass had to be radiating heat. The ache was deep and each smack of the paddle stingy and excruciating. Yet I welcomed the pain, focusing on Archer’s words, both the ones he was currently speaking and the ones he’d said before we started.
My ass ached, but the ache in my pussy was worse. Why did this turn me on so much? Why did I like being told what a naughty girl I was and being punished like a child?
Okay, so this, here in the club, wasn’t at all childlike, but same difference.
“Are you ever going to do that again? Make assumptions instead of just asking for the truth?”
“No, Daddy.” My whisper was thick, and I was surprised by how close to tears I sounded.
“Are you going to try to go through Daddy’s personal things? Do you want Daddy to go through yours?”
