by Fields, Sara
“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered softly. And I did. I did know that.
I drew in a deep shaky breath and the scent of grapes practically slapped me in the face. I looked out the window for the first time since we’d arrived and sighed against him.
Of course. He owned a vineyard estate too.
“Your vineyard, I take it?”
“One of a few,” he replied.
“A few,” I answered flatly in an attempt to hide my amusement and he simply chuckled.
I shook my head. There would never be a time when I wouldn’t remember just how much I’d underestimated this man from the start.
“Come on. Let’s go inside. We have something to deal with, don’t we, little girl?”
I dropped my gaze and chewed my lip. I don’t know how he did it, but with just a few simple words he could make me feel small and naughty and needy for his hands on my naked skin.
“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered.
The driver came around and opened the door for us. With my hands a bit firmly on my dress, I climbed out of the car carefully enough to make sure that I didn’t show the man what was beneath my skirt. I was sure that my pussy would be visible if my dress fell just the wrong way and a heated blush crept over my cheeks at the thought. I didn’t want him to see what was between my thighs.
Dean followed behind me and he placed his hand on the center of my back. He gently prodded me forward and I pressed my hands against my stomach. I didn’t know what to do with them, finally nervously wringing them in front of me in an effort to comfort myself.
The house was crafted from brilliantly white stucco. Each window was framed with a border of rust-hued bricks that gave the mansion a homey feel. The red metal roof was bright under the light of the setting sun in a way that was classically beautiful. The landscaping was also impeccably kept with well-trimmed bushes and a variety of flowers that were breathtaking to behold, but I expected no less from a man like him.
For a second, he let me just look. After that, he pushed me forward again toward the house.
His stride was steady and sure as he led me inside. I knew better than to argue at this point, so I took a deep breath and stepped into the house when he opened the door for me. I stilled as he shut the door behind us, suddenly awash in fear and arousal and uncontainable need.
It was everything I could do to just breathe. He wasn’t even touching me, and it felt as if he was surrounding me. There was so much tension between us that my fingers quivered against my belly.
“Please, Daddy,” I murmured.
He was quiet for a long time. I could feel his eyes on me. I wondered if he was deciding what he wanted to do with me and that made me unbearably nervous.
How much was my punishment going to hurt?
Slowly, he grasped my hair and pulled it to the side, baring the back of my neck in the process. He reached for the top button of my dress and undid it, slowly working down the arch of my spine until he laid either side open. Gently, he traced a single finger down my skin, causing tiny electric shivers to cascade over my entire body and I gasped when he pulled away.
I wasn’t certain of what was going to happen next, but I knew that I would be safe with him with whatever was to come, even if it was going to be painful.
He pushed the fabric of my dress over my shoulders, using his hands to propel it down my arms until it was free. Then he slid it over my hips so that it pooled to the floor.
“Step out of your dress,” he instructed, and I did as he asked. He made quick work of my bra and I was left in nothing but the heels on my feet.
He’d stripped me in the foyer of his house. I didn’t know if there was anyone else here, but it was blatantly clear that didn’t matter to him. My nipples stiffened into tight peaks and I wanted to cover them. Unconsciously, my hands rose to do just that, and his fingers closed around my wrists. He pressed them back to either side of my hips.
“Don’t hide yourself from Daddy, little girl. He wants to see all of you.”
I shuddered hard and a single drop of arousal rolled down the inside of my left thigh.
His hands slid along my torso, descending down to trace along the lines of my hips in a maneuver that was both teasing and possessive at the same time. I found myself leaning back against him, wanting his support and so much more.
I wanted everything and I had a feeling I was about to get it.
“You’ve made it a part of your life to learn to be someone else to please others, to do your job and to keep yourself alive, but Daddy doesn’t want that tonight. Daddy wants Willow Rose and no one else,” he said softly against my ear.
“No one wants that,” I scoffed. For some reason I felt defensive, as if I had to protect myself from really falling for this man and truly getting hurt when it all eventually imploded in the fiery disaster that was sure to come of this. I was so scared, and his fingers squeezed my shoulders before dropping down to graze against my sides.
“I do, little girl. Daddy wants the real you,” he said firmly.
I shuddered against him.
I felt one of his rough hands cup around my hip before he grasped the globe of my right bottom cheek hard. His fingers dug into my flesh and a sudden flash of pain blossomed across my backside.
“Daddy,” I gasped.
“Tonight, Daddy is going to leave you with no question about who is in control. You’re going to be punished for not telling me everything, but after it’s over you will beg Daddy for what you truly need,” he instructed, and my stomach danced with anxiety. My naked bottom flexed nervously, almost as if I was already bent over getting spanked.
“Yes, Daddy,” I whimpered.
I hated that my clit was already throbbing in anticipation of the hidden meaning behind those words. I wanted his cock and I wanted it badly.
He left my dress on the floor forgotten as he led me into the kitchen. I hardly saw the fancy stone countertops as he walked over to the massive island. He opened the drawer and took a heavy-looking wooden spoon from inside it. A terrified cry billowed up from within me and then he reached for a paper bag that I hadn’t noticed before because I’d been so caught up in him and the sight of that spoon.
He opened it and reached inside. I half expected another thing that could be used to punish my naked backside, but in his hand was a very thick piece of ginger root.
I stared at it and then looked back at him. What was he going to do with that?
“Tonight, you’re going to learn that your pretty bottom can be punished inside and out, little girl,” he warned.
“Daddy?” I asked nervously. “What do you mean?”
He opened another drawer and took out a small paring knife. He started to peel off the outer layer of the root, carving it smooth and in a shape that distinctly began to resemble something like a butt plug.
I found myself unable to say anything at all.
“Earlier today, I asked you if you deserved to be punished, little girl. Tell Daddy what you told him,” he urged.
In that moment, I wished that I could disappear. I prayed that a black hole would open up beneath my feet and swallow me whole. Everything was spiraling out of control and I just wanted to run away.
I opened my mouth, and nothing came out.
“Daddy’s waiting, little girl,” he warned. He left the words unspoken, but I knew he’d bend me over this island just as he’d done to me before without a second’s hesitation. He expected me to answer him. I’d only make this worse if I didn’t.
“I told you that I needed to be punished, Daddy,” I finally managed to whisper. I was shaking so hard that I hoped he understood the words that tumbled out of my mouth.
“It’s Daddy’s job to take care of you and give you everything you need, isn’t it, little girl?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I said as my voice broke a little.
“Will you trust Daddy to do all of that, little girl?”
Up until this point, I had my eyes glued to the floor. I didn’t want to wat
ch him carve the ginger and I especially didn’t want to look at the wooden spoon on the counter, but I couldn’t stop myself from meeting his eyes.
I wanted to know if what he was saying was true. Did he really want to take care of me that way?
Those blue eyes bored into mine with love and adoration and I knew at once that he meant every single word. That sort of love couldn’t be faked.
I decided to take a leap of faith. I decided to give him everything.
“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered, and his lips curved up in a tender smile. He looked like he was proud of me.
“Good girl,” he murmured. He placed the knife down on the counter and pointed to a sitting room off of the kitchen.
“I want you to go sit down on the couch in there and wait for me, little girl. You will think about how sore your little bottom is going to be over Daddy’s knee in just a very short while,” he demanded, and I shivered fearfully.
I’d never been over his knee for a spanking before. My pussy clenched hard at the thought of being that close to him for so shameful a thing.
With nervous arousal, I walked over to where he’d told me to go. I sat down slowly on the white fabric of the couch, still entirely too aware of my nakedness. I chewed the inside of my cheek for the thousandth time and slowly slipped my feet out of my heels. Not knowing what else to do, I massaged my sore feet. I was keenly aware of his movements and when he walked out of the room, I sat there freefalling into anxiety with wild abandon. Was he finding more things to punish me with? Was he going to make me wait long?
Left alone, I wanted to cry, but he was back within minutes. I looked up to see that he’d slipped off the rest of that ridiculous outfit and was now simply wearing a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. There was nothing more in his hands. He’d simply gone and changed into something more comfortable, and I breathed a shaky sigh of hesitant relief. He hadn’t left. He was still here and that meant something to me.
I’d been the one to run from him, but he’d always been the one steadfastly by my side. I knew that now. Whatever was about to happen was because he cared for me and that was so incredibly fulfilling that my heart swelled even as my body quivered with nervous tension over my upcoming punishment.
I tried to figure out all he had planned, at least as much as I could.
I knew that he was going to spank me with the wooden spoon over his knee, which would undoubtedly be very painful. It was also very clear that he had nefarious plans for that piece of ginger, but I didn’t know what that meant for me. Would it hurt?
Would I like it if it did?
The island was just tall enough so that I couldn’t see below his waist. Was his cock hard for me? Did it arouse him to know that he was going to punish me for something like this?
I was so lost in my own head trying to figure out what was to come that I hardly noticed the sound of his footsteps walking toward me as I stared down at the shaggy cream-colored rug beneath my toes.
“Stand up, little girl,” he instructed. Casually, he placed the wooden spoon and the carved ginger on the coffee table in front of me and my heart quickened to a frantic pace.
“Please, you don’t have to use that,” I pleaded. I didn’t know what the ginger would do, but I was just fine with not knowing at all. In fact, I’d probably be better if I never found out.
He grasped my upper arm and roughly pulled me up himself before he swatted both cheeks of my backside. I squeaked in surprise. Without saying another word, he took a seat and turned me so that I was situated in front of him in between his thighs. I was still standing, but I knew I wouldn’t be that way for long.
I stared down and it was impossible not to notice that his cock was hard. There was no hiding that in those sweatpants, and I was ashamed of how much that turned me on even through my fearful arousal.
I was mortified by how much I wanted this. I really did want Daddy to punish me.
He was right. I did need this.
I needed to know he cared enough to do this for me.
I cried out softly, unable to stop myself.
“You’re okay, little girl. Daddy’s got you,” he murmured, and he traced his fingers up and down the sides of my legs. My thighs trembled a little, more from the overwhelming desire surging through me than from fear of what those hands were about to do to my naked backside. His fingers grazed along the tops of my thighs and just his thumbs glided along the insides of my legs.
“Come now. It’s time for you to go over Daddy’s knee, little girl,” he said softly as he guided me over one of his muscled thighs. He locked his other leg over the backs of mine, and I was left feeling so vulnerable that I panicked until his palm glided across the naked skin of my lower back.
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 sen
d 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.