Daddy's Fiery Little (Wounded Daddies 5)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Micah

The door opens and she glares at me as I step inside and close it behind me.

“I closed up a half hour early,” I say.

She rolls her eyes.

“You’ve gone too far, little girl.”

She stares back at me defiantly. “Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it, Daddy?” She spits out the word Daddy as a challenge.

“Get undressed,” I say. “Now.”

She stares at me in shock and then her expression changes. I see the lust in her eyes as she whispers, “Yes, Daddy.” There is no challenge in the word this time. This time it is anticipation and need that characterizes her voice.

As she strips, I cross to the couch and sit down. She will not be happy with what is about to happen, at least not at first.

When she is undressed, she steps up to me, a hungry expression on her face. She will likely never know how hard it is for me not to change course and give her what she wants right now. I can’t though. What she wants and what she needs, what we need, are two different things.

I extend my hand and when she takes it, I pull her forward, turning her body as I do so she’s bent over my lap. She gets out, “What the…” before the words end in a yelp as my hand comes down on her ass, hard.

She is stunned.

She is too stunned to react. “Even if we argue, little girl,” I say, “you will treat me with respect.” My hand falls again, and she yelps again. She is not only stunned but very clearly angry with me. I land another spank and say, “And you will not disrupt this club’s business with your tantrums.”

She gasps and shouts, “You prick!”

We have a safe word. Many Daddies and little girls do not because most don’t engage in bondage. I always have one. If she uses it, the spanking will stop. Until then, she’s getting more spanks. My hand falls again, twice in a row. “When you’re angry, you’ll deal with it the right way.”

“How dare you!” she screams.

My response is three hard spanks. By now her ass if very pink. It’s also so damned beautiful I have to focus very carefully on the task at hand instead of stopping just to admire her. She yelps and then presses her lips together, determined not to give me the satisfaction of another yelp.

She’s wrong, of course. This isn’t about me being satisfied with how much pain she receives.

“Tell me now that you will not throw a tantrum in the club.” She keeps her lips pressed together and I land two hard spanks.

“Damn it!” she shouts.

“Tell me now, you will not throw a tantrum in the club,” I say.

“You can’t make me say anything!” She lifts her ass a little in anticipation of the spanks she knows will soon impact, and I have to keep from chuckling at the perfect, fiery little girl on my lap.

I land another spank, a hard spank, and she yelps loudly. I also hear a slight moan she quickly stifles. Again, I fight back the urge to chuckle at her defiance and at her refusal to give even an inch. At the same time, I find myself almost hoping she’ll say the safe word because I want her to learn the lesson, and I want her to get better, but I sure as hell don’t want her stubbornness to lead to a spanking that hurts more than it should.

But I trust her.

I have to trust her.

I have to believe she’ll use the safe word when she needs to, and I bring my hand down again. She yelps and clamps her lips together even tighter. I land another spank and by now, her ass cheeks are a very angry red.

“Tell me now, you will not throw a tantrum in the club.”

“No! I won’t!”

I bring my hand down twice more and that means there are two more yelps and her ass looks so damned red. The defiant look in her eyes tells me there will still be more refusal. I don’t know how long I can keep this up, safe word or no. “