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She scrambled to do what she was told. Having never had to do much for herself, her folding job was in keeping with a kindergartener’s. Frustrated, she threw them on the floor and crossed her arms. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes as she stared at the messy pile on the floor.
Her theatrics did not move me in the least. “Pick them up and place them back on the bed. Daddy will show you how to fold pajamas.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Once she’d placed the mess on the bed, I said, “Okay watch me now.”
I folded the pajama bottoms at the seam, then folded the outer leg where they slid over the butt until the pants aligned at bottom and top. Once they were even, I folded them in quarters.
“Now you try.”
Her lips pouted out like a duck’s beak as she did her best. It was a far better job than what she’d done before. “Well done, Ronnie.”
She beamed at the compliment.
“The top is a little harder. Watch,” I instructed. “Place the shirt face down.” I extended the arms out to the sides. “When you fold back the first sleeve, you also want to include about twoinches of the shirt to create a folded line, like so. Now you try the other sleeve.”
Ronnie did her best and repeated her efforts until her side looked like mine. “All right. Great job. Now, we ensure the sleeves are flat with no crinkles and then we fold the bottom half a third of the way up and once again until you have the same size as the bottoms, place the top right side up on top of the bottoms andje suis fini!”
Ronnie crinkled her nose. “What does that mean?”
“The literal translation is ‘I am done’.”
She repeated the French saying.
“Now, put these in the closet and back in the corner with you.” Lesson one complete. I would add folding and putting away of her clothing to her to-do list, but later. Right now, there was a naughty bottom to blister.
Retrieving my implements from the closet, I chose three and laid them out on the side of the bed so she would see them when I recalled her from the corner. I considered the best place to administer her punishment and decided my bedroom wasn’t it. I didn’t want our play spankings and sex to be associated with punishment.
“Come to Daddy, Ronnie.”
Immediately, her gaze fell on the implements. A hint of shock and fear quickly appeared on her face before ending with curious desire.
“I want you to go to the kitchen and retrieve one stool and place it in the center of the area rug in the living room. Bend over that stool and place your hands on the legs, with your bottom facing the fireplace. Understood?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
She scurried off, and I waited until there was no noise before following with the implements. The sight that met me gave me an instant hard-on. Her luscious bottom was up, and her legsspread as wide as the stool legs allowed. With her feet resting on the first rung as she needed that extra elevation to get her hands down the legs on the other side.
Placing the implements down. I stood back and admired her body. She was so damn perfect in every way. “All right, naughty girl, we are about to start, but before we do, I want to ensure your safety. This is a punishment and will hurt, but if you need a way out for any reason, I want you to say red. That will call an immediate stop. Understand?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. I will break this spanking down into parts with the three implements you saw. The first round is for taking the cart without permission. The second round is for drinking before you took the cart and risked your safety. That is unacceptable, so expect that one to hurt a lot. The third round is for going alone without letting your friends know.”
“But—”
“No, Ronnie, leaving a note in a room no one knows you’re in doesn’t count as direct communication.”
Her stiffening body told me she still didn’t get the monumental fear all the men had felt on the ride back to Rawhide Ridge. “You endangered your friends’ lives when they came after you. I’m sure some of them had a lot more to drink than you did and were at even a higher risk of things going wrong than you.”
A sob of, “Ahhhhhhhhhahahaaaahh,” came from the other side of the stool. Now she got it. “How do you feel, knowing you endangered seven lives, not including your own. Or, that all of them received a punishment. Your backside won’t be the only one blistered today. As such, I have revised your to-do list for today. After we finish here, and are sufficiently recovered to make some phone calls, you will phone all of them, and their men, and apologize. Is that understood?”
My voice had become darker and deeper throughout the lecture I’d given her, and her crying increased exponentially. But it had to be done. She needed to feel the guilt in order to feel fully absolved from her actions the night before.
“Sniff, sniff, ughhhh, mmmmhhh!”
I hated hearing her sob; it broke my heart in two knowing she was hurting emotionally, but this had been missing for her all along and it took last night for me to see the forest through the trees.
