Be My Babygirl

We’re quiet on the way back to the hotel. She worries her lip and wrings her hands, but she’s squirming on the seat. I reach my hand to her left thigh and give her a little squeeze. She whimpers.

“What is it?”

“It turns me on, daddy. Even as I’m… well, I’m afraid to be spanked when you’re angry.”

“I won’t hurt you. I’m in control.”

“I know you are,” she breathes. “It’s part of what I find so… um, sexy.”

I feel a corner of my lips twitch up. She’s so damn adorable. I can breathe easier now that she’s back with me.

We make it back to the hotel, and I leave the car to be parked by an attendant. “Don’t move.”

This little girl’s going to learn I’m in charge.

And you never, ever, run from daddy.

She watches while I come to her side of the car, open her door, and reach for her bags.

“I can take those,” she begins, but I shake my head.

“I’ve got them.”

She obeys and lets me take them. Good girl. I take her hand and lead her inside.

We ride the elevator in silence and head upstairs. I’m so relieved at having her back, I want to squeeze her to my chest, and a part of me wonders what this means. I’ve been telling myself this is just an arrangement, just two people who have a contract and limited time together. A business deal, as it were. No more, no less.

Should I feel this way about her? Should it bring me relief to know she’s home with me?

Soon, her contract will come to an end.

Then what?

She bites her lip, apprehension evident on her features the closer we get to the apartment. When we arrive, I open the door, usher her in, and waste no time.

I point my finger toward the room. “Bedroom. Now. I want you stripped and waiting for me at the foot of the bed.”

Her eyes widen, but she obeys quickly. I gather her bags and arrange them in the living room, mentally tallying all the tools I have I can use for her punishment. I dismiss each one in turn. No cane this time. No paddle. I consider my belt but dismiss that as well.

I want her naked, over my knee. My hand will do.

When I walk in the room, she looks up at me and bites her lip. She’s done exactly as I asked. Gorgeous.

“I really fucked up.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “But daddy’s going to spank you. Then this will be behind us. Agreed?”

She squirms, and I love watching the signs of arousal flit over her features. Her pupils dilate, her cheeks flush, and she’s panting.

“Yes, daddy,” she says.

Jesus, she’s perfect, the most gorgeous little submissive. She needs this like I do, and that knowledge is dynamite. How am I supposed to stay detached, to not fall head over heels for a woman that feels like she was made for me?

I walk to the side of the bed and point to the floor in front of me.

“Over here, please.”

She stands and walks over to me, her head bowed low.

“You were a good girl getting ready like I instructed,” I say, reaching for her hand. “Now why is daddy going to spank you?”

“Because I ran away.”

I nod. “What should you have done instead?”

She shifts on her feet. “I should have… talked to you?”

I give her ass a sharp smack. “Is that a question?”

She shakes her head. “No, daddy. It isn’t. I should have talked to you.”

I nod. “Good girl.” I pat my lap. “Now get over my knee.”

I’m hard before she even puts herself there, my cock aching. I adjust her over my lap, and the scent of her arousal permeates the air between us. Jesus. I haven’t even spanked her yet, but she’s that ready.

I run my hand over the sweet swell of her backside, gather her wrists with my left hand, and pin them to her lower back, lift my palm, and slam it against her ass.

“Ow!” she squeals and squirms, but I hold her firmly. I spank her again, my handprint blooming pink on her perfect dimpled skin.

“Are you going to run from me?”

Another hard spank.

“No, daddy!”

“Are you going to hide from me?”

I punctuate my words with hard, punishing swats.

“No!” she says, panting. “My God, your hand feels like a paddle.”

I swat her again, hard, and she arches her back and squeals.

“Good. Naughty little girls ought to be paddled.”

I adjust her on my lap and slow the spanking. I let each hard slap land deliberately, pausing long seconds between each one. I spank her until she slumps over my knee, past the initial sting, sinking into her punishment like the good girl she is. And just like that, the spanking goes from punishing to something more.

She moans and squirms and wriggles on my lap. In between slaps, I stroke between her legs and tease her clit, until she’s panting and gasping.