Disciplining Little Josey

by Laveaux, Serafine

  He surprised her then. She’d expected a can of shaving cream to appear, but instead he retrieved a small shaving cream bowl with a brush from beside the bench. Where did that come from, she wondered, but the answer wasn’t really important, not once the soft brush began to stroke and pat and caress along her delicate folds. The sensation was electrifying, and when he set the brush down to take hold of a lip and pull it taunt, she’d become so wet he nearly lost his grip. Leaning over her, the heat of his breath along her inner thigh sent shivers of ecstasy up and down her spine, and as he gently guided the razor along her velvet skin, she found herself sighing softly with pleasure. After every couple of strokes, he would lean back to the sink behind him and rinse the blades out, then return to carefully laying her flesh bare and smooth.

  * * *

  Richard fought to keep his breath steady as he carefully drew the razor across her delicate skin. The sight of her satin lips, wet and swollen before him, was almost more than he could stand. Now she lay sprawled naked before him, wet and open, and with every stroke of the razor looking more and more… right. The need to slip his fingers between her smooth, glistening folds was unbearable, but he knew it was too soon. She was his for the taking but not yet ready to surrender herself to him. The fears and insecurities would come between.

  * * *

  When he was finished he helped her back to the shower and steadied her as her knees wobbled beneath her. Once more the warm water cascaded over her, and he slipped his fingers between her legs to gently rinse the shaving cream away. It was all she could do not to wriggle against his fingers, and too soon he was finished and drying her with a fluffy towel. As before, he spent a good five minutes carefully massaging the sweet smelling cream into her skin, but this time instead of having her lie on the bench to have her bottom treated, he wrapped the towel around her once again and led her from the shower room to a new room that she’d never been in before. This one looked more like the room at her doctor’s office, clean and white, with an exam table in the very center. Nervously, she gripped his hand tighter and looked up at him apprehensively. She didn’t much care for doctor’s visits to begin with, much less ones she hadn’t known she was going to be making.

  “Josey, I need you to hop up on the table and lie on your back,” he said gently, patting her shoulder as he guided her to the table. “I need to examine you and make sure everything is okay down there.”

  Down there? Uncertain, she shuffled her feet and twisted the edge of the towel between her hands. Why would he need to examine me down there? she wondered, but she couldn’t forget what he’d told her about obeying him or what happened when she didn’t.

  “Daddy?” she asked nervously, afraid to sound like she was protesting. She’d had about enough spanking for one night.

  “It’s okay, baby girl, I won’t hurt you. But daddies need to check their little girls down there from time to time to make sure everything works okay.”

  With firm but gentle hands, he guided her up on the table, carefully placing her feet in the stirrups and spreading her knees until her freshly smoothed and very wet kitty was fully exposed to his view. Josey thought she would die of embarrassment as his fingers gently slipped between the thicker outer folds to the delicate inner ones, but when he came to the sensitive little nub and proceeded to lightly roll it between his thumb and forefinger, she forgot all about being ashamed, and a shivery moan escaped her.

  “Does that hurt, baby girl?” he asked, though his eyes told her he knew it did not.

  “No, Daddy, it feels good.” It felt beyond good actually; it felt amazing, and she wanted to slip her own hand down between her legs and assist him.

  “That’s my good girl,” he said softly as he began to tease the warm, wet entrance to her kitty hole with his other hand, until suddenly she arched up against his fingers and forced them inside. Instantly, he withdrew his hand and sharply slapped the inside of her thigh.

  “Josey, you stop that now!” he warned in a stern voice as she yelped in surprise. “Little girls can hurt themselves doing that sort of thing!”

  Stunned, she mumbled an apology and settled back down against the couch. She wanted to point out she knew perfectly well how to play with her own kitty, but as his fingers slipped back between her slick folds, she decided now was not the time to argue.

  “I’m not angry, baby girl,” he reassured her. “But daddies have to teach their little girls how to do this sort of thing so they won’t get overexcited and hurt themselves.”

  “Okay, Daddy,” she whispered meekly, praying he wouldn’t stop. “Please show me, okay? I promise to be good.”

  Once more, he took her throbbing nubbin between his fingers, his touch subtle but knowing as he massaged the swollen, pulsating button until she had to claw the sides of the exam table to keep from grinding her hips against him. No one had touched her like that since high school, and then it had been pimply-faced Jerry Bronson, and he’d had nowhere near the talented fingers that Daddy had. Within minutes waves of pleasure began rolling through her, and she caught herself groaning uncontrollably.

  “Does that feel good, Josey?” he asked her in a husky voice.

  “Oh yes, Daddy,” she gasped, her head back and eyes closed now. “So good.” An explosion of lights began arching and shooting up from where his fingers coaxed and teased her fluttering nub, clear to the backs of her clenched eyelids. When he finally, mercifully slipped two fingers deeply into her moist kitty and asked if that too felt good, her back arched and brought her halfway up off of the couch, and she screamed in her most excited little girl voice ever that it did indeed feel good, the best ever, and then the lights took over, and she exploded with them at last.

  She must have dozed off after her exam, because when she opened her eyes she had a soft pink blanket draped over her and a big brown stuffed bunny tucked under her arm. Squealing with delight, she hugged the new bunny, and looked up just in time to see him come back into the room.

  “I thought you might like him,” he said. “What do you think you’ll name him?”

  She thought hard on that one. There were a lot of stuffed animals in her room at her apartment, but she’d bought all of them for herself, and always under the guise that they were for a little sister or a niece, of course. This one would be special, because someone else got him for her. Not just any someone else either, she thought, but her daddy, and she was beginning to think he wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Weird for sure, but also familiar and comfortable too, and she decided to stop questioning the odd situation and just enjoy it.

  “It’s a girl, and her name is Angel,” she announced, holding the fuzzy bunny tightly. “And she’ll look out for me whenever my daddy isn’t around.”

  The Trouble with Lies

  From that point on, Josey did her best to follow his daily instructions. She stayed away from the break room and its inevitable temptations and dutifully headed to the company gym every day at lunch to complete her assigned exercises. As always, she looked eagerly forward to five o’clock, but instead of going home and stuffing herself on cookies and salty crackers as she had done so often in the past, she would meet her daddy and spend the entire evening with him, as well as most of the weekends.

  She wasn’t so good that she completely avoided spankings. From time to time she willfully refused to go to the company gym on her lunch break, and every time she paid the price by being vigorously spanked. She had determined that as long as she didn’t eat foods she wasn’t allowed, she could avoid the torture of the treadmill from hell, so her disobedience was quickly limited to skipping the occasional workout during the day. The spankings were painful and often embarrassing, but Daddy always checked to make sure everything was working okay “down there” afterwards, and she considered it to be a worthy tradeoff.

  Keeping up with her bills, however, proved much more difficult. Even with Daddy reminding her to pay them well in advance of their due date, she still frequently forgot to mail off the checks. Befo
re she even realized she was late, the phone would ring and someone would want to know when she intended to pay the bill. After the third month, he had insisted she set all of her bills up on an automatic schedule through her bank, but like so many other things, she put it off for later and then forgot about it entirely. When he asked her for the fourth time if she’d done as ordered, she lied and said she had, intending to do it later that evening.

  As usual, she forgot all about it. It wasn’t until she read her morning email from him the following week that she remembered it, and by then it was too late.

  Josey,

  Your phone has been shut off for non-payment. I will see you this evening directly after work.

  Daddy

  Oh no! Grabbing her purse, she pulled her cell out and quickly turned it on, only to find it was indeed cut off. The lie she’d told him just the week before came back now, how she’d insisted she’d set up the automatic bill pay for all of her bills. She knew she was in big trouble now.

  The rest of the day dragged endlessly as her stomach knotted and twisted inside. Disobeying was bad enough, but she’d never been in trouble for lying before and shuddered to think how bad her punishment might be. Midway through the afternoon, she made for the break room to get a soda. She was already in the soup, how much worse would a single soda make it? Although, probably best to get the Diet Coke this time. When five o’clock finally rolled around, the dread had rolled her stomach into a hard little ball, and for the tenth time that day, she thought she might be sick.

  When she pulled into the parking lot beside her apartments, the sleek, dark sedan was already there waiting for her. Suddenly, Mr. Green’s words came back to her. Each agreement has a sort of escape clause, if you like, that will allow either party to back out of the agreement at any time, for any reason. She realized she didn’t have to go with the driver, didn’t have to be punished for lying or disobeying. She could just walk right past him up to her apartment and forget she’d ever met Mr. Green or Richard Black or ever seen the inside of the supposedly deserted strip mall. “Everything could go back to normal,” she whispered to the empty car. Except normal had never made her happy, only sad and lonely and miserable. Normal had meant no one listened to her or paid attention to her. Normal meant being laughed at for wearing Keds and lacy ankle socks, and having people snicker at her pony tails. Normal rolled its eyes at frumpy, misfit Josey from accounting.

  But Richard Black didn’t laugh at her. He bought her pretty bands to hold her pony tails, and helped her put on her silly Hello Kitty socks with the lace ruffles. He powders my butt and calls me his beautiful baby girl. Suddenly being punished didn’t seem like such a terrible thing, not if it meant she could keep the handsome cowboy she called Daddy for herself. And after all, it wasn’t like she hadn’t brought it on herself by lying. She glanced at the dark sedan that idled nearby and the driver who stood by the back door, patiently waiting. “Okay then,” she muttered, her voice heavy with resignation as she opened her door and went to face Daddy.

  * * *

  He met her at the front entrance and wordlessly escorted her down the halls. She had expected to be taken to the small gym where all of her spankings had occurred so far, but instead, he took her down another hallway to a room she’d never visited. It was perfectly square and ordinary, with a stained concrete floor and a thick rug covering two thirds of it. An ornate oak armoire was tucked neatly into one corner, while a thick, cushioned, armless chair sat to its side. Several full length mirrors decorated the wall opposite the chair. The scent of cinnamon and peppermint lingered faintly in the air, though she saw no candles or wax burners anywhere.

  “This is the punishment room,” he said, answering the unspoken question in her eyes as he removed her clothing one piece at a time. There’s a punishment room? The thought sent sharp fingers of fear worming through her. He’d always spanked her in the gym before, and she’d assumed that was just how the game was played. It never crossed her mind there might actually be a room just for being punished, and the idea made the knots return to her stomach. “You need to assume the position now.” Wordlessly, he guided her down to her hands and knees on the rug, pulling her hands together before her and positioning her hips so that her bottom was high in the air.

  As she waited, bare bottom in the air and hands clutching each other before her, he opened up the armoire and retrieved a small bottle. Leaning over her, he unstopped it and lowered the dropper to the inside of her wrist. Two drops fell to slide across the pale flesh, and the aroma of cinnamon grew strong before her. Next, he moved behind her, and she felt his fingers spread her cheeks and the cold glass of the bottle slip between them.

  “Hold that tightly,” he ordered as he returned to the armoire, and her face flooded with heat as she realized what he’d done. The surface of the bottle was slick and almost immediately she felt it begin to slide downward. Fearful of what would happen if she let it fall, she clenched her cheeks as tightly as she could and breathed a small sigh of relief when the bottle’s dangerous descent finally stopped.

  The creak of the armoire’s hinges drew her attention away, and she twisted her head to try to see what was inside. Unable to look straight at it, she tried staring in the long mirrors to the side and almost immediately wished she hadn’t. The mirrors showed neat rows of belts and crops and paddles hanging along the inside of one door, and shelves just inside with more glass bottles like the one currently clutched in her bottom.

  “Head down,” he ordered sternly. Gulping in fright, she quickly looked back down. How did he see? His back was to her, but perhaps he’d caught a glimpse in the mirror, the same as she. Quickly, she discovered the not knowing was worse, and she could only guess at what the soft shuffles and occasional creaks and thumping of drawers might mean. Just as she was about to try for another peek, he returned and bent down to examine where the drops of oil had soaked her wrist. The skin glistened where the oil had coated it, but otherwise appeared unharmed. Satisfied, he stood and removed the bottle from her cheeks. Before she had time to feel relieved, however, he ordered her to spread her bottom cheeks.

  “Daddy?” she whimpered nervously. The only way to do it was to lean face first onto the rug, but when no reply came she realized that was exactly what he intended. The humiliation threatened to bring the tears now as she saw herself in the mirror, naked on her knees, with her face in the rug, and arms stretched behind to spread her cheeks wide. Close to sobbing, she watched as he lowered the dropper to her bottom this time, and gasped slightly as she felt the cool liquid splash lightly against her bottom hole. His finger followed it, gently but thoroughly massaging it into the sensitive flesh and ever so lightly easing it just inside of her. Josey wanted nothing more than to close her eyes to the sight, and the thought of what he was doing made her want to crawl under the rug.

  He had no more stood up and stepped back when her backside began to grow warm. As he returned the bottle to the armoire, she realized that the cinnamon scented oil had set her tender bottom hole on fire, and she couldn’t help but gasp as the unexpected heat began to spread and build.

  “Oh,” she whimpered helplessly, trying desperately to be still but failing miserably. “Oh, OW, OW, Daddy!” she wailed, suddenly realizing what she was in for. “OW, it burns!”

  Richard took a seat beside her and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, watching as she made faces and cringed before him. Several times she tried to clench her cheeks only to realize it made the heat that much worse. He’d told her a hundred times to set up the automatic bill pay, but she’d been too lazy to do so, and now her phone was shut off. That was bad enough, but she’d lied to him the week before, and he wasn’t about to tolerate lies. She always told him she had a hard time remembering things she needed to do. Today he intended to teach her a lesson she wouldn’t soon forget. The cinnamon oil was milder than some of the oils in the cabinet, but he doubted he’d need anything stronger to get the point across.

  “It’s one thing to act l
ike a little girl when you’re with me,” he began, “but you cannot act like a child when it comes to your responsibilities. This business of not paying your bills on time is irresponsible and lazy and stupid. Every time you do it, they charge you late fees and reconnect fees, and you end up paying twice as much as if you’d just paid it on time in the first place.” He could hear her sobbing softly, the carpet muffling her misery somewhat, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a slight smile. She was so dramatic at times, indeed it was one of the things he liked best about her, but if she thought she was suffering now…

  “It takes five minutes to set up the automatic bill pay,” he continued. “Five minutes, and yet you were too lazy to bother with it. You certainly found the time to lie to me about it though, didn’t you?”

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she wailed. “I’ll do it the minute I get home, I promise!”

  “You always say that, and then the minute I’m gone you forget all about your promises. Well, Josey,” he leaned over until his lips were just brushing up against her ear, “I promise I’m going to teach you how to remember today.”