Page 40 of Fire Daddy


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He stares me down a moment longer, but I see satisfaction gleam in his gaze before he releases me. “Go to the bedroom, take everything off and kneel in the corner.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I say softly, dropping my purse on a chair as I head in. I strip out of my clothes. It was too soon to wax again, so I had to shave. It’s not quite as baby smooth, but hopefully will still be as pleasing. I kneel in the corner.

This time everything seems familiar. I like the routine—it settles my nerves and helps me focus. I’m about to be punished.

I know it will be good, but it’s still scary every time I surrender to Blaze. I always wonder if I’ll hate it, or if it will be too much. Would I be too stubborn to use my safe word? Probably.

The door opens. I don’t turn, just keep my face toward the corner, my heart thudding against my back.

“Come here, babygirl.”

When I stand and turn, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, same as last time. Again, I’m grateful for the routine. I walk to him and he pulls me between his knees. He strokes up and down my sides, drinking in my body like I’m some kind of miracle.

“Are you ready for your spanking, Sparks?”

I nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He pulls me down over his thigh, my torso resting on the bed.

I settle into the spanking immediately. The first few slaps sting, but once I get used to it, I close my eyes and breathe, experiencing the slaps as only sensation, sometimes even pleasure. The heat grows between my legs as he swats my flesh. I don’t count, but it seems to go on for a long time. Just when I’m starting to squeeze my cheeks together to avoid the pain, he stops.

“Good girl. You took that so well,” he praises me. He rubs his fingers between my legs and I practically purr.

Yes, please, Mr. Daddy, sir.

Yeah, my thought-words are tumbling over each other.

He drags his fingers up the crack of my ass and massages my anus. I try to squeeze my cheeks together, but he delivers a sharp slap to each side. The snap of plastic reaches my ears, then he pries my cheeks apart and dribbles something cold on my crack.

I jerk my head up, peering over my shoulder.

“I have to get you ready for my cock, Sparks.”

I turn my face back to the bed and bite my lip. I am seriously not sure I’m up for this. But it’s Blaze, and I trust him, so I do my best to relax as he massages the lube into my anus, prying it open enough to fit his finger in.

I stifle a moan. It shouldn’t feel good, but it does. I should be grossed out by this.

He removes his finger and replaces it with something cool and round. “Open for your plug, little girl.”

I don’t want to. I swear I don’t, but my pussy swells open and I relax my anus when he pushes the plug against it. It stretches me open, wider, wider until I catch my breath and tense.

He stops and eases back, pumping with miniscule movements.

Oh God, it feels so good. So wrong. So very wrong. But so very good.

“Be a good girl and take your plug.”

How can I not obey? I freakin’ love when he calls me good girl. I concentrate on relaxing and he eases the plug in farther, farther, stretching me wide before it seats and the stretching sensation eases.

“That’s it, baby. It’s in. Now lie down on the middle of the bed, face up.”

Thrills of excitement ping through me. The plug feels awesome—a constant but relatively subtle stimulus. I climb into the position he described and he buckles my wrists and ankles to cuffs attached to the bed.

What now?

“I think this is a very appropriate punishment, Sparks.”

What is? Having my ass filled with a butt plug? It is rather humiliating, but I’m not sure why it’s appropriate.

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