It would soon prove useless.
“Do you remember what Daddy said would happen if you didn’t refer to him properly while you’re being punished, little girl?”
I could do nothing but wail with fear and reluctant arousal coursing through my veins.
I did remember.
I didn’t want to say it.
That would make it real.
This is just a nightmare. You’re going to wake up at any second and Daddy is going to disappear. You’re going to be safe in your bed.
“What’s going to happen, little girl?”
I swallowed, trying to get past the ball in the back of my throat. It didn’t work. If anything, it only felt even bigger than before.
I turned my head. I refused to answer.
The mortifying sound of him pulling his belt from his jeans was so incredibly loud. I whimpered before I could stop myself. I couldn’t see him, but that didn’t matter because he decided to lean over the bed and hold the thick black leather belt right in front of my face.
“I’m going to whip this disobedient little bottom with my belt until you tell Daddy what he wants to hear. You should know that Daddy’s belt is so much worse than Daddy’s hand, little girl,” he said firmly.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.
The leather was thick and worn in, like he’d been wearing it and breaking it in for a very long time. I squirmed, sliding my thighs back and forth as I imagined what it would feel like. I was afraid, but at the same time, there was a tiny piece of me that was curious what it would be like.
My clit throbbed hard for the first time.
I shuddered hard. I wanted to come.
Worst of all, I wanted him to do it.
I wanted Daddy to make me come.
Something was so very wrong with me. Maybe I was broken.
A strangled cry fell off my lips as he pushed himself off the bed next to me and dragged the belt out of my sight. Time seemed to stop as he stood up beside me and laid that wretched leather across my backside.
“Are you angry with me?” I blurted out. I didn’t know where that had come from. I just said it.
“No, little girl,” he answered.
“Is this some sort of revenge?”
“No. It isn’t,” he replied softly.
“Then what is this?” I pressed.
“This is Daddy taking control and giving you exactly what you need, little girl.”
Yes, Daddy.
I froze, horrified that those words had been on the tip of my tongue just as the belt thrashed my naked cheeks for the first time. At first, it simply felt slightly more painful than his hand, but then it began to build.
And build.
And fucking build some more.
The simmering burn turned into a scalding hot line of fire and it caught me so off guard that I wailed. A second followed. Then a third.
He was right. The belt was so much worse than his hand and the fact that I couldn’t make it stop made it that much more so. The wicked leather whipped me over and over again, from the top of my bottom all the way down to the fullest part of my backside and then it descended even further than that.
He didn’t stop at the tops of my thighs.
He went even lower.
He thoroughly punished the entirety of my bare bottom, making sure that even my thighs were welted from the terrible implement. He even laid a single stripe across the fullest part of my calves. That one made me scream.
Oh, God. Please let this end soon.
It didn’t. It felt like it was going on forever and ever and soon my desperate pants became pitiful cries and then my breath hitched in the back of my throat.
He was going to make me cry.
I wasn’t going to be able to stop it from happening. I squeezed my eyes so tightly that it was painful, but I could still feel the tears brewing. They were going to fall. It was simply a matter of time now.
I whimpered. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
“Dean, please,” I begged.
“Refer to me properly, little girl,” he demanded.
Would it be so bad to say it? Would it do anything but wound my pride to utter the words he wanted to hear so badly?
“Please,” I pleaded.
The first tear rolled down my cheek unbidden. Then a storm of tears followed. One fell after the next until I was sobbing, my scalded bottom and wet little pussy on complete display. My shoulders shook and my once quiet cries escalated into weeping wails and it hardly even registered in my head that the belt had stopped.
“Please, Daddy,” I wailed. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
My voice was thick with emotion, but it no longer mattered.
I’d called him Daddy.
The cuffs holding my ankles captive released and I cringed nervously. Was my punishment over?
Please, Daddy. I’m so sorry. Please believe me.
Almost tenderly, he placed the folded belt next to my face and sat down beside me.
“There now, that’s a good girl,” he said softly, and the words fell down around me like a warm embrace. I swallowed, trying to grapple with that unexpected feeling as his fingers softly massaged my shoulders and then continued down the length of my spine. His tenderness was so unexpected that it caught me off guard even as my tears continued to fall, rolling down my cheeks unbidden.
I cried because I had missed him. I cried because I was lonely, and I cried because he’d finally found me.
“Good girl. Daddy is going to take care of you now,” he murmured.
Daddy’s going to take care of me.
His touch was gentle in its descent. His caress was so very kind as he glided across the scalded flesh of my bare bottom and the backs of my thighs and I found myself lifting to meet his touch.
Those same expert fingers that had brought
