AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He runs his hand over my pussy again. “Why are your panties so wet, baby? Did you have an accident?”
Heat spreads over my cheeks at the question, and I whip my head around to look at him with wide eyes. “No! I didn’t have an accident.”
“Then why are your panties so wet? You’re practically dripping down your thighs, Red.”
If it were possible for me to combust into a ball of flames, I’m pretty sure I would.
Another sharp smack to my other thigh.
“Owwie!”
“I asked a question. I expect an answer. Why are they so wet?”
I pant and hang my head between my arms, not wanting him to see the embarrassment on my face. “Because…because I’m turned on.”
Smack! Smack!
He chuckles when I cry out. “I know you are, baby. I can smell your honey. Fuck, it’s killing me. But you still have to be punished first.”
Smack! Smack!
I dance and squirm on my tiptoes, whimpering and crying with each slap. When he stops, I think it might be over, and I let out a sigh of relief. My bottom is already on fire.
He steps behind me and taps the outside of my thighs until I bring my feet together. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties and tugs. As he lowers them, I whimper when the cool air hits my swollen and wet pussy.
“Step out one foot at a time,” he instructs as he kneels behind me.
I obey, hoping he’s going to bury his face between my legs. When my panties are gone, he stands and moves back to my side. I twist my head to look back at him just as he brings my panties up to his nose and takes a deep whiff.
“Fuck,” he groans. “You smell like vanilla frosting and cherry pie.”
If I weren’t so shocked from watching him sniff my underwear, I’d giggle at his description of my scent. Vanilla frosting and cherry pie? Very specific.
He takes one last sniff before he tucks the frilly material into the pocket of his slacks and presses his hand to his crotch to adjust himself. He’s keeping my underwear? Huh. That’s…hot. Really hot. Way hotter than it should be.
When I realize he’s not going to bury his face in my pussy, I start to push myself up but am quickly stopped by his hand pressing me back down.
“I didn’t give you permission to move. We’re not done with your spanking, Red. Stay,” he says with a raised brow.
Crap. My bottom quivers at his threat.
The wolf moves to one of the old wooden cabinets and spends several seconds looking through the contents. From the angle I’m in, I can’t see what’s in there, but when he walks back toward me with a riding crop in hand, I suck in a breath.
“Daddy, I’m sorry,” I plead, keeping my eyes on the mean implement he’s holding.
He nods. “You will be. Spread your legs back to where they were. You’re getting ten with the crop. If you move your hands or feet, we’ll start over.”
I whimper but slowly obey, spreading my legs as wide as he had made them before.
Smack!
It takes about two seconds for the stinging pain to register, and when it does, I cry out as my fingers dig into the couch and my knees bend slightly.
Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
