“Wait! No! Please, I don’t want a spanking,” she howled. This was no act. She’d known it was coming, and at one point had sort of wanted one. But when faced with the reality of it, her mind changed.

“You should have thought about that before being a bad little girl.” He lifted up her floral skirt and yanked down her ruffled panties.

Fuck… Bare bottom.

Humiliation washed over her when she glanced around and realized the whole room was watching her discipline. “Please, I’ll be good! I’ll be good!”

His answer was a simple swat to her naked behind. And then another, and another. She kicked and flailed her arms the best she could, but it only caused Costello to tighten his grip and increase the severity of the spanking as he peppered her behind with one smack after another. It didn’t matter what mental age you were—spankings hurt.

Costello paused for a moment, which sent a completely new terror through Ariana. The longer the spanking, the higher the chance of him seeing the arousal his punishment caused. He would be pleased, but he could also use her arousal against her. And they weren’t in the privacy of his room or her own. The other girls were here, they were watching. And the Daddies.

She tried her best to think of other things and not allow the wetness to take over. But she couldn’t help it. When Costello spanked her, she always wanted more. She wanted his touch in more ways than just blistering her backside. It was unnerving.

Luckily, or unluckily, he continued with the spanking. Swat after swat, until her entire ass blazed. Tears filled her eyes as his palm reddened every square inch of her bratty behind.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry.” She really was. He made sure of it. Costello had never gone easy on her, and this was going to be no exception. It felt worse, like he was making up for the few days he’d been away from her.

He stopped, resting his palm on her bottom. “Are you going to be a good girl, or should I take off my belt?”

“I’ll be a good girl, Daddy. I promise.” Though the mental image of him pulling off the leather belt only made her arousal ramp up.

Costello lowered her dress and stood her up. Her panties still hung at her ankles. Ariana looked down at them, feeling humiliated that all the other Daddies and girls had witnessed Costello spank her bare ass.

“Keep your panties down and go stand in the corner for ten minutes. When the time is up, we’ll wash that paint from your face,” he commanded.

She quickly did as he asked, hobbling over to the nearest corner and placing her nose in it. She knew better than to question Costello when he was in discipline mode. Getting him angry only worked to get her ass blistered, not closer to taking her outside of the House.

Ariana looked like the women working in the Romeros’ whore houses with all that paint on her face. As much as he didn’t like it, he hated when she acted up more. It undermined him as her daddy and with the other men hanging out in the dayroom, he couldn’t let it go unpunished.

He caught Gianni’s grin as he led Ariana to the bathroom just off the dayroom. The man had no room to judge, considering Shelby had spent three nights over the past week in the playroom. Costello was willing to bet that Ariana obviously missed having him around the past few nights and was acting up to get his attention.

It wasn’t usual for him to keep away from his little girl’s training, but Ariana wasn’t the usual sort. Whenever he spent time with her, he found himself longing to keep her in his room longer and longer. It took all of his energy to send her to her own bed every night. He’d needed the last two nights to get his priorities back in order.

Having any sort of feelings for her would put them both in danger.

And yet, as he stood on the outskirts of the dayroom listening to Gianni complain about his cut of a new business he’d been put in control of on the outside of the House, he couldn’t stop staring at his girl.

She’d been bored.

While the other girls were completely enthralled with the toys and activities in the room, Ariana looked ready to poke out her own eyes if it would entertain her. It only solidified what he already suspected. The Lullaby wasn’t working on her. But being the smart girl she was, she’d learned to hide it as best she could.

But for how long?

Eventually she’d slip.

Then what?

“Sit here,” he said, pointing to the closed toilet. She plopped herself down with all the attitude a child would have in the same situation. Looking at her a bit more closely, he sensed not all of her act was pretend. She reacted so sweetly to being taken care of and was excelling at her training every night. A woman despising his treatment of her wouldn’t get so wet in the panties like she did. And they probably wouldn’t react so openly to being disciplined.

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