Daddy's Desperate Little Girl (Wounded Daddies 7)

But Jesus, it hurts! It hurts like a son of a bitch! For the first time, I understand the old saying about no pain and no gain. I feel like I ought to gain the whole damned world.

I don’t know how long the spanking has lasted, but I don’t want it to end, which makes no sense to me. I know, though, that I don’t want it to end until I no longer feel any connection to the worthlessness. I want that feeling gone. I want to be free of it and feel confident for the first damned time in my life.

His hand falls again and again, and I keep saying, “Yes, Daddy.”

When he changes and says, “Are you a loser?” I realize I don’t think I am.

“No, Daddy!” His hand falls over my ass time and time again, and I have never been in this much pain. Why in the world am I lifting my ass in anticipation for each spank? That’s what I do, though, as he asks me again and again if I’m a loser. Then he asks if I’m going to put myself down. He asks if there’s anything wrong with me. He asks if I’m broken or defective.

“No, Daddy.”

Spank.

“No, Daddy.”

Spank.

I’m sobbing uncontrollably, but I still lift my ass, wanting those spanks just as much as I have ever wanted anything in my life. I don’t understand why it feels so good, but it does. Even through the pain, I feel centered and happy in ways I never have before. Soon, in between the “No, Daddy” and “Yes, Daddy” comments I repeat in response to his questions, I’m just sobbing and saying, “Daddy, oh, Daddy!”