My fear faded at once at his touch and I took a deep breath.
“In all your life, you’ve had one mark after another and not a single one of them ever came looking for you, did they?”
“No, Daddy,” I whimpered.
“Did I come looking for you?”
“Yes, Daddy.” My voice cracked precipitously, and I had difficulty calming my beating heart.
“Did I find you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I answered shakily.
“And when you ran from me a second time, what did Daddy do, little girl?”
“You found me again, Daddy.”
“Do you think Daddy is going to let you run from me again, little girl?” he pressed.
“No, Daddy,” I cried out, my voice shaky and small and entirely too weak. I pressed my legs together, hoping against hope that he couldn’t see just how wet his scolding was making me. I closed my eyes, still fervently wishing that I could just vanish and disappear.
“Do you think Daddy will let you hide things from him again, especially things that put your life in danger, little girl?”
His words made me feel so incredibly guilty and I knew that if this continued much longer, I’d probably cry from his chastisement alone.
“No, Daddy,” I said quietly. I blinked several times, trying to hold back how much his heavy words were weighing on me.
For a few long moments, his palm glided over my naked backside, swirling back and forth and lulling me into a temporary sense of comfort.
“You need this, don’t you, little girl. You need Daddy’s forgiveness. You need Daddy to punish you, but more than anything else, you need to know Daddy cares for you,” he continued, and all the air rushed out of my lungs in a single breath.
I did need this.
He was right.
I hated that he was right. I hated that I needed this. I hated that I was that kind of girl who needed to be taken over a man’s knee and punished.
“It’s okay to need those things, little girl. Daddy is going to give you everything you could ever need. Daddy’s cock is very hard thinking about taking care of you that way,” he said firmly, and my pussy clenched down tight.
“Please, Daddy,” I whispered, pleading and weak and so entirely exposed.
“Tell Daddy what you need,” he pushed.
I cried out and pressed my face against the couch.
“I need you to punish me, Daddy,” I finally wailed. There was no more hiding, not when he’d stripped me bare and had me pinned over his knee in preparation for a hard spanking. Not when he’d already found a way inside my walled-off heart.
“That’s my girl,” he purred, and his fingers squeezed my bottom again. This time, it was possessive and only mildly painful, and my inner walls fluttered with need.
The first time he smacked my bottom, I expected it to be hard. It wasn’t. The sound of it was harsher than its bite. I sucked in an anxious breath all the same. The second was just as hard and I found myself thinking that I could maybe survive this.
After those few initial slaps though, his hand turned a whole lot harder. Had his palm suddenly turned to wood? How could it hurt so much more than before?
I realized then that he’d been holding back all those times before. He’d wanted to send a message then, sure, but right now felt so much different. This was a punishment that even I admitted that I needed, and he was ensuring that I was going to remember every last second of it. His palm cracked hard against the upper curves of my cheeks, descending to punish even down to the middle of my thighs.
At once, I struggled to take it and I understood why he’d placed me in this position in the first place. I couldn’t kick or squirm my way out of this. I couldn’t pull forward or propel my way backwards.
I swallowed hard. This was only going to end when he decided it would. I already knew that my pleas for mercy would fall on deaf ears. I’d earned this and Daddy was going to see it through.
His spanks increased in intensity, smacking me faster and harder as more time went on. I tried to keep silent for as long as I could. I tried not to show him how much it hurt.
I deserved this. I deserved for it to hurt.
But it was hard. It was so very hard.
His palm punished the lower curve of my bottom at the same time that his leg positioned my hips a bit higher. I felt like my entire bottom was swollen and on display and my punishment had hardly even began.
At first, the branding of his hand simply felt warm, but as the spanking continued it grew hotter and hotter until it felt like my entire backside was suspended over an open flame. The longer it went on, the more vigorous the spanking became until I couldn’t keep my lips locked together anymore.
I cried out, a strangled weeping sound that echoed far louder than I wanted it to.
“Daddy, please,” I begged.
“Little girl, your punishment is just getting started. Daddy hasn’t even put the ginger inside your naughty little bottom,” he warned, and I whimpered fearfully.
“Please, don’t,” I cried out.
“Do you decide how you’re punished, little girl?”
“No, Daddy,” I wailed.
His hand was so hard and so utterly relentless that it made just speaking difficult. My toes tapped against the floor. I wanted to reach back to protect myself, yet I didn’t. I knew he wouldn’t allow that, so I wrapped my fingers around his ankle instead. I simply held onto him because that’s what I needed.
There was a certain intimacy in being naked over his knee like this. His body pressed against mine felt so much more personal. I felt so much closer to him even though his hand was blazing a real message
