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“The spanking it is, then,” he said, reaching for me. Grabbing my upper arm with one hand, he plucked the coffee from my grasp with the other and returned the mug to the bedside table.
My heart slammed up against my ribcage as the reality of what was happening hit me. “Um, Cole, this isn’t necessary. I’ll eat breakfast.”
“Too late, sweetheart.” Pulling a straight-backed chair from the vanity on the opposite side of the room, he sat and tugged me down over his lap all in one fell swoop. It was a position I had never actually been in despite the numerous spankings I’d endured over the years. I felt vulnerable in a way I couldn’t remember feeling before, like a naughty child who’d been caught misbehaving, which was exactly how I imagined he wanted me to feel.
His next words confirmed my suspicions. “Naughty little girls who don’t listen to Daddy get their bottoms spanked. Isn’t that right?”
Was he giving me an out? If I said “no” would he let me walk away?
Maybe he would… but I honestly didn’t want to find out.
“Yes… Daddy.”
And with that, I sealed my fate. A strong arm wrapped around my middle, holding me in place while he rubbed a hand over my naked backside. It seemed impossible that my body could want more after we’d so thoroughly enjoyed each other the night before, but my pussy spasmed at his touch.
“Good girl.”
The hand on my ass disappeared, and a moment later a resounding crack echoed around the room. Pain blossomed where his hand had landed, and I sucked in air. But before I could scream or cry out, he repeated the action on the opposite cheek and the breath stuck in my lungs.
Somehow, over the last few years, I’d forgotten how much a simple spanking could hurt.
And Cole wasn’t playing. Despite the teasing tone he’d had while scolding me, he spanked hard and he spanked fast, lighting my entire backside on fire before I could fully process that first swat.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow!” I finally managed to gasp out. “Stop! Ow!”
But instead of a reprieve from my punishment, all my protest earned me was a lecture.
“Coffee is not an acceptable breakfast, little girl. You have a physically demanding job, and your body needs fuel. Am I making myself clear?”
As if to punctuate his lecture, he targeted the extra-sensitive crease between my ass and thighs, and I howled at the intensity of those well-placed swats. “Yes! Perfectly clear!”
“Are you going to argue with me the next time I give you an instruction?”
“No, Daddy!” An impossible to keep promise, as I suspected we both knew, but in that moment, I was willing to say just about anything to end my punishment.
Two more extra-hard swats to my sit-spots capped off my spanking and then I was on his lap, in his arms as he rocked me gently.
“Are you ready to be Daddy’s good girl?” he asked softly, pressing his lips to my temple in a gesture so tender it made my heart ache.
“Yes, Sir.” I allowed myself a pitiful sniffle, even though I wasn’t anywhere close to crying. As much as the spanking had hurt, it was going to take a lot more than that to bring me to tears.
“Good. Now, why don’t you go eat something and then you can finish your coffee.”
Now that the spanking was over and the pain in my backside had ebbed, I was acutely aware of another part of my anatomy that was throbbing. Shifting, I straddled his lap, looping my arms around his neck.
“Can it wait just a few minutes longer?” Peeking up at him through my lashes, I pushed my bottom lip out in a pout. “Please, Daddy?”
It took a lot longer than a few minutes and every bit of our breakfast was cold by the time we got to it. But it was more than worth the delay.
