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“We’ll deal with that after. I want you to go to the implement cabinet and choose three implements, one for each infraction. Make sure they’re good ones because if we don’t agree, then we will choose, and I promise you will like our choices a whole lot less.”
Devious, that’s what they were, she thought as she dragged her feet toward the cabinet. She’d peeked inside the one in her room but had gotten too scared and closed it before she got too far. She had felt like a little kid peeking in her parents’ closet and seeing something she shouldn’t. Oddly enough, she didn’t feel any different this time. The armoire was full of every implement she could imagine from a heavy, thick frat paddle that she wouldn’t be touching with a ten-foot pole, to a short, thin whippy-looking thing that looked like it could slice right through her.
Instinctively, she knew her Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t expect her to pick such harsh things when she was so inexperienced, but she didn’t want to pick the wrong things and have them be disappointed in her choices either.
She picked up a heavy-looking wooden spoon, a thick leather strap with a handle and a thin, almost cane-looking thing she thought she deserved for her lie. It was a variety and while all of it looked formidable, she wasn’t actually afraid. Well, until she realized she had to turn around and hand those implements off to the two people she had wronged.
Her heart pounded as she carried the three tools of torture to the executioners. The one thing she did notice through all of this, though was that neither of them looked upset or angry in the slightest. From the minute they had collected her from Master Derek’s office, they had smiles in their eyes. That small thing provided immense comfort.
“Good girl,” Daddy praised.
“I’m proud of you, little girl. I know this isn’t easy.”
“Thank you.” A warmth filled her at their words. It was a little confusing for them to be praising her when she had literally gone out of her way to pull a prank on them, but she liked it, nonetheless.
“Well, let’s get this started then, shall we.” Daddy repositioned himself on the couch and patted his lap. “Tell me, how many rolls of toilet paper do you think you stole?”
Pippi squeezed her eyes shut and cringed. She had taken a roll from every bathroom she could find, including the stalls in the two main bathrooms of the lobby.
“Maybe twenty?” she said as she laid over his lap.
“Twenty, huh?” He flipped up her jean skirt and rubbed his hand around her panty-clad bottom. “I think the spoon is a good choice for stealing, so we’ll start with that after I warm you up with my hand.”
He gave her enough information that she wasn’t an anxious mess, but not enough that she could anticipate much. It sucked because she wanted to complain about it but she really couldn’t.
“Daddy doesn’t have to talk a lot about how naughty it is to take things that don’t belong to you, does he?” he asked.
“No, Daddy.” She wanted him to be quiet and spank so she could focus and not have to try to listen and process the pain at the same time.
“Good then.” His hand began to fall over and over against her panties. It didn’t hurt much at first, but his intensity built quickly.
She squirmed and whimpered as he meticulously covered every inch of her bottom and upper thighs with hard swats of his hand.
“Time for these to come down, young lady.” He hooked his thumbs in the elastic of her panties and skimmed them down over her bottom. The embarrassment of him taking her panties down was almost too much. Even though he had spanked her before, her panties had already been off.
“Nice and pink,” he mused as he rubbed and massaged her bottom.
Even though the act was inherently intimate, there was nothing sexual in his touch. She never felt like he was going to try to turn things sexual or anything like that. She had been naughty and she was getting a spanking, that was it. No blurred lines. It was the most freeing feeling she had ever experienced.
Something cold and smooth touched her skin and she knew it was time for the spoon. Covering her face, she whimpered into her hands.
“You know what’s coming don’t you, naughty girl?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“And why is Daddy going to turn your bottom bright red with the wooden spoon?”
Ugh, questions. She hated questions.
“Because I stole rolls of toilet paper.”
The bowl of the spoon bounced from cheek to cheek twenty times in rapid-fire succession.
“Ow, Daddy! I’m sorry!” she squealed, drumming her toes against the floor behind her.
“Good, that’s a start. I think part of your punishment for stealing is going to be to make sure the bathrooms are stocked with toilet paper for the next few days. You’re going to have to check often because they get used quite a bit by a lot of people.”
“Okay, okay I will!”
