“You want me to be your daddy?” He tugs at my shirt again.
“Maybe just for tonight.” I sigh when his hand makes contact with my skin.
“Okay.” He nods. “Are you going to be a good girl for your daddy or a bad girl?”
“I think I already showed you what kind of girl I can be.” I reach up and trace the cut under his eye. “A good girl wouldn’t do something like that.”
“Do you know what happens to bad girls?” He narrows his eyes.
“Yes, Daddy…” I try to stop myself from smiling.
“Tell me.” He lifts up.
“They get a spanking?” I exhale sharply and feel a tingle of excitement shoot through my body.
“That’s right.” Bram slides to the edge of the bed and pulls me toward him.
It’s fun. It’s playful. We’re turning what was once scary into a game, and I like it. There is no sense of danger, and the fire I saw earlier is replaced by jovialness. I kind of wish there was a hint of that fire left. It might have frightened me when I saw it flicker, but damn if it didn’t do something to me that I can’t fully explain or understand. Maybe it’s better to let that fire die out and not tempt fate for the second time, but I’m not sure I can.
Moth.
Flame.
I’m just pulled toward it.
SMACK! The first sound echoes as Bram’s hand lands on the back of my jeans. The denim makes it loud, but I don’t really feel it.
SMACK! A second one comes down on my ass. A little firmer than the first, but my jeans still protect me from the sting.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Three in a row, and I finally feel the last one—it’s still very light compared to the sound echoing in the air.
“Are you going to be a good girl now?” Bram rubs my ass with his hand.
Is that it? Surely not.
“I’m not feeling much regret…” I move my ass against his hand to show him I want more.
“I see.” A light growl echoes in Bram’s throat, and he grabs the waistband of my jeans. “Then I think it’s time for these to come down.”
“Okay, Daddy…” I grin as he reaches around my waist and unfastens them.
There’s a roughness in his touch when he pulls them down my hips, and a glimmer of hope resonates with me. I glance over my shoulder and am disappointed to see that the look in his eyes is still playful—he’s not upset; not like he was this morning. I have no idea how to bring that fire to the surface, to dance in the flames, to feel it against my skin.
I shouldn’t want to see that side of him again. Maybe I just feel like I deserve it for the mark I left on his face.
SMACK! I feel it more on my panties, but it’s lighter than the last few he gave me on my jeans.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The next three are noticeable. The sting finally comes—a sting I’ve never felt before, but somehow craved the instant I realized it was possible.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Are you learning your lesson now?” His tone is firmer. I still don’t hear the same fire in his words that I saw reflected in his eyes.
“Maybe…” I let out a sigh.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! They’re harder. I definitely feel them, to the point that my body tenses up.
I like it.
I want more.
“Just maybe?” he asks.
“Maybe,” I say with more emphasis and suppress my smile.
“Well then, maybe your panties need to come down.” He snaps the waistband against my lower back.
I move my hips against his leg. I feel the same rough touch from earlier returns as he peels my panties down my thighs. A gasp follows when his hand rubs against my bare skin. There’s less excitement, but the yearning hasn’t gone away. It’s different—it’s morphing into something new.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The sting is more pronounced. It’s sharper.
“I think I’m learning it now, Daddy!” I whimper as soon as the words leave my lips.
“You think you’re learning it?” He lifts his hand. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“I’m sorry, Daddy…” I tense up and squirm on his knee.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“You already told me you were sorry.” He traces the curve of my ass. “Tell me that you’ve learned your lesson.”
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
I try to respond, but no words come out. I can’t lie to him. I feel remorse and regret, but it isn’t because I’m being spanked. It’s deeper than that, and those aren’t the emotions I’m searching for over his knee. The sting that is getting more painful every time his hand comes down has brought clarity.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
I’ve always been a disappointment. My parents wounded me with words, and while they never left a mark on my skin, they ravaged my heart. They bruised my ego when it was fragile and unformed. I never learned how to have an ego, confidence, or any of the building blocks that were supposed to breathe life into my body, mind, or soul.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
“Well?” Bram’s words interrupt my thoughts, and his hand comes to a rest on my ass. “Have you learned your lesson?”
“No.” A long exhale bridges the gap between my thoughts and what has to be said. “I need to be punished.”
I’ve crossed the threshold between excitement and mental sundering. I understand what I’m asking for—what my true craving is. It’s freedom. I’ve never had it. I went from being an emotional punching bag for my parents to a prisoner of my brother’s debt. There was no in-between. No opportunity to grow. Nothing for me except the problems of others that I shouldered because it felt like my duty.
“What do you think you need to be punished for?” Bram lifts me off his knee until I’m seated in his lap, facing him.
“Everything…” I divert my gaze. Bram cups my chin
