Frequently she referred to their daddy/little girl relationship as playing. Michael didn’t particularly care for that description of the intense dynamic they’d discovered worked very well for harmony in their lives. It was not a game to him and apparently it wasn’t to her either, otherwise it would not have begun to color her world outside the boundaries of their home. Hearing her admit that during working hours she increasingly found herself needing him, his dominance, discipline, guidance and love was music to his ears even though it concerned her.
From the get go he’d worried she would call a halt, finding his control too much for her stubborn nature to accept. He’d gloried in each step forward; she dragged her heels. It had been a touchy situation and he’d feared taking her too far, too fast.
Now he knew he’d been right all along. Not only did her body respond to her daddy, her mind was starting to accept the rightness of it. The perfect balance it created between her for love, discipline and sexual pleasure was astounding. She never disappointed him, no matter how strict he was with her. In fact, the firmer he was, the more satisfied she seemed to be, becoming a sweet little kitten for him to lavish attention on.
Personally, he was in heaven when she was soft and yielding after a session. His masculine ego swelled with pride each time his ministrations left her weak, wallowing in a haze of pleasure so deep she often couldn’t speak. She simply murmured near senseless words and sighs as he cradled her in his arms.
He hoped today would be one of those days. It had been a trying weekend for both of them. Going to the refrigerator, he took out a ginger root and began carving it into a plug. Today he would use it for the first time, inserting it into her naughty bottom. His intention was to spank, then paddle her good and he knew she would struggle once she saw the paddle. Restraints would not be necessary. He was strong and fit, easily capable of holding her in place over his lap. It was so much more intimate than strapping her down and the spicy root would let her know he meant business in short order. There would be no clenching this day. No, she would accept his discipline like a good girl and the plug would greatly reduce the risk of bruising her tender flesh.
When her punishment was complete to his satisfaction, and she was suitably contrite, he would reward her with a good massage, inside and out, paying special attention to her g-spot.
Not only would the ginger plug keep her from clenching during her spankings, it would help her stay open and compliant during his long-fingers’ forays into her sweet pussy.
That would drive her crazy, he knew. The first thing she typically did when he played there was to clamp down tightly on his fingers. She wouldn’t be able to do that today unless she wanted to increase the burning in her bottom and he had a pretty good idea that would not be the case.
Controlling her pleasure had been an added bonus when they’d first started. It had been his intention to save their marriage and reclaim his manhood and pride. The discipline was originally meant to straighten her out and modify her attitude. Never in a million years had he expected to gain such sexual pleasure from turning her pristine cheeks into flaming red orbs as she squealed and sobbed out her apologies. Neither had he expected to find his pant legs soaked with her response to it. The wonder of that still boggled his mind. Imagine finally having the guts to take your wife in hand and finding out she liked it, no matter how vocally she protested.
Michael was pretty sure she would be quite vocal today. Not that it mattered. Their nearest neighbors were away on a cruise, and even if they weren’t, they would never hear a thing from Michael’s and Chéri’s well-insulated house. Placing the carefully carved root in a small plastic bag, he headed upstairs.
Chéri made her bed and dressed in a pretty pink skirt. It was short, had ruffles and exposed her matching ruffled panties. Michael loved it and thought she looked adorable each time she wore it for his pleasure. She brushed her hair into a high ponytail, put on a pair of ankle socks with tiny pink bows and a creamy white top with puffed sleeves. Surely when he saw how cute she looked, how ready to be his sweet little girl she was, he would go easy on her. Despite his stern warning, he did have a soft spot for his “babygirl.”
Pacing her room, she refrained from chewing her nails, barely. He hated that. Somehow, over time it had become very important to her to please her daddy. At first she told herself it was because she hated his hard spankings. That was the only reason, she insisted. Later, it became obvious to her that she loved seeing him smile again, loved being the center of attention, the one he focused on the moment he walked in the door. Everything revolved around her, what she wanted, what she needed. Even though she insisted she did not need his discipline, she craved it. That part was especially hard to own and at times she still struggled with it. How could a normal woman enjoy getting her ass slapped so hard she was begging for mercy? It didn’t make a bit of sense, yet she could not deny getting pulled over her husband’s lap for a spanking excited her as nothing else ever had.
It wasn’t just the pain, which was often hard to bear. It was the position he held her in. The way his arm laid across her back and curled around her waist, holding her captive. There was almost a sense of comfort in it; a feeling that nothing that happened from that point on was her fault, her responsibility. She could let go, she could fly, or cry or scream and nothing would make any difference. He was in charge. He made the decisions. He would take care of it all. Things that upset her, worried her, or pressured her, disappeared in the moment. He had this. She really was five years old and her daddy would take care of everything, and after she’d paid for her mistakes, she could start over, fresh and new, adored and wrapped in his love and good graces.
That in and of itself would have been enough for Chéri, but the way his dominance excited her was the frosting on the cake. As much as she privately bashed herself for being one sick bitch, she couldn’t help it. The big strong man was not only going to hold her accountable, he was going to pleasure her like never before. It was irresistible and she found herself looking forward to Friday nights the minute she opened her eyes Monday morning.
She thought about him all day at work, often becoming distracted and making more work for herself. At times she dreamed up naughty little things she could do that would force him to step up and take charge during the week. Soon their weekend pursuits filtered their lovely little way into the occasional weeknight.
Chéri began hating her job, resenting the hours she had to spend there when all she wanted to do was be home waiting for daddy to arrive. She would cook for him again and tell him about her day making sure to include something questionable so she could watch his expression darken and feel the excitement swelling in her tummy as she wondered if it was enough to earn a spanking. Frequently she wondered if she needed psychiatric help. She spent hours on the internet at the office when she should have been busy doing company work researching women like her.
It turned out there were a lot of them, whole groups even who were just plain sick of carrying the load and wanted nothing more than to return to a simpler time in their lives. A time when their daddies made all the decisions and took care of everything; something Chéri never had to start with.
There were even daddies who fed their “babies” with a bottle and kept them in diapers. Chéri didn’t think she’d like that, but she hadn’t thought she’d like any of it so what did she know? Maybe someday her daddy/husband would want to do those things with her. If he did, she would agree to try them. After all, one of the best parts of the whole thing was letting him make the decisions about what was best for her, for them. It wasn’t something she’d ever bring up. It was just too embarrassing, but if he insisted, well he was the daddy. Lord, what freedom those words inspired in her.
The sound of the door knob turning had her spinning around.
“Look at you,” Daddy said approvingly. “Aren’t you pretty? Turn around so Daddy can see your panties.”
Chéri smiled and did as he asked, even bending forward a little s
o he could get a good look.
“You’re lovely, sweetie,” he said, “but you know looking adorable is not going to get you out of this, right?”
“I know,” Chéri replied, looking at the floor and toeing the rug with her shiny black shoe. “I know I was a bad girl yesterday when I argued with you and last night when I drank too much. I’m sorry, Daddy,” she sighed, peeking up at him from under her lashes.
“Yes, you were a very naughty girl but the most serious thing you did was not talking to me about how you were feeling. Then to question Susan about what I told you in confidence was totally unacceptable,” he continued, shaking his head.
“Are you very mad at me?” she asked.
“Darling, Daddy isn’t mad at you, in fact, I love you very much, but I’ll still have to deal with you in a way you probably won’t like.”
Chéri couldn’t help but notice that while his tone was sad, his eyes clearly showed his excitement. She had a feeling her punishment was going to be very, very bad, yet good at the same time. There was something in her daddy’s pocket and it made her nervous.
Daddy moved into the room and pulled his table down from the wall. Then he got the straight back chair from the desk and placed it near the table. Chéri watched as he opened his cabinet and took out a paddle, one she particularly disliked. It was thin, very shiny and of a size that would easily cover both of her cheeks at once. He’d only used it once and then for a very short, sharp paddling. It stung like hell and she hoped today’s would be as quick.
“As lovely as you look, baby, I want you to take off everything but your pretty panties. I’ll remove them myself,” he stated as he took a seat on the chair.
Chéri shivered and froze for a moment until his gaze turned stern. Slowly she began to undress. When she was down to her panties she looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“Come here,” he ordered softly, holding out his hand.
Chéri ran to him, ignoring his hand and launching herself against his chest. He caught her close and held her, nuzzling her soft hair.
“You’re trembling already, little girl,” he observed. “Surely you didn’t think you were going to get away with acting like a brat?”
“No, I just didn’t think you were going to use that paddle,” she sobbed against his shirt.
“So you thought that by dressing so sweetly Daddy would only use his hand to spank your naughty bottom?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you are both right and wrong,” he told her. “I am going to spank you with my hand and then I’m going to use the paddle. You need to learn you can’t behave poorly and get away with it,” he continued, taking her shoulders in his hands and backing her up. “Come on now, over my knees and we’ll get started.”
Tugging gently, he pulled her around and over his lap. For a moment he seemed to be studying her, his large hand resting on her ruffled panties. Then he slowly pulled them down to her knees and palmed her bottom.
“Such a pretty little butt,” he said, rubbing softly. “It won’t be quite so smooth when I get done with it, but I’ll love it just the same.”
A single sob escaped her throat before she could stop it. Suddenly she felt him reach into his pocket. A moment later his fingers spread her cheeks.
“What are you doing, Daddy?” she cried.
“I’m using something in your bottom that will be quite uncomfortable at the onset, but you’ll thank me for it later,” he explained. “This is a ginger root and it will keep you from clenching your cheeks together. If you do clench, it will burn and sting your little rosebud and some of the juice will be pulled inside. You won’t like it, babygirl, trust me, so be good and relax those cheeks for me,” he encouraged, slapping her lightly.
She quickly complied and felt something firm, damp and cool nudging against her. Fighting against it was futile, she knew that. Daddy was going to do as he saw fit and apparently he wanted this ginger thing in her bottom. It didn’t take him long and there was only one sharp pain as he lodged it inside her, pushing as far as it would go.
At first it didn’t bother her. In fact, it felt quite nice, and cool. She didn’t see how it could possibly burn her. Then the spanking started. Daddy’s big hand began swatting her all around the plug, making a circle. Oh, she realized. He was warming her up. This was the good part. With a sigh she relaxed over his lap, letting her head hang down. Mmm, nice.
As his slaps became hard and stinging, she wiggled. Not so nice now, but tolerable. His hand was moving faster too and covering more area. When he lifted each cheek and slapped repeatedly underneath, she cried out and clenched her bottom.
‘Holy crap,” she screamed out in shock.
“You watch your mouth, little girl,” Daddy scolded. “You deserve every slap and more.”
“But it burns,” she yelled, trying to get away which was enough for him to release her cheek and take a firm hold of her.
“It’s supposed to. Unclench your bottom and it won’t be as bad,” he ordered, still spanking her crisply.
“I can’t, you’re spanking me too hard, Daddy,” she sobbed, as she tried to relax.
“I’m spanking you as you deserve and there’s more to come so settle down,” he snapped. “If you think for one moment I’m going to allow you to shut me out and stop talking to me when we have a problem, think again.”
“Oh, Daddy, please stop,” she pleaded tearfully.
He ignored her, continuing to slap her entire bottom, covering every inch until it was bright pink. He made several circles around the protruding plug as she made continuous efforts to relax her cheeks while sobbing her head off. When he was apparently satisfied, he stopped and allowed her to cry, hanging over his knees like a dishrag.
Chéri gasped for breath as he rubbed her back for a bit, but before long she felt him reach to the side and knew he was picking up the paddle.
“No, Daddy, please,” she screamed. “I’ll be good, I swear it. I’ll never give you the silent treatment again and I’ll apologize to Susan and Mark, but please don’t spank me with that horrid thing,” she begged.
“You’ll do all of those things anyway,” Michael insisted sternly, “and you are getting paddled whether you want to or not. I make the rules around here and I’m ready to add some new ones.”
With that obscure warning, he began to smack her bottom with the paddle. He wasted no time turning her bottom from pink to fiery red. Even the noise it made as it struck her sore ass seemed to hurt her ears and make it worse. Finally, he stopped and set it aside. Rolling her over and into his arms, he stood and placed her on the table. Quickly she turned onto her side, keeping her bottom from making contact with the leather.
Michael rolled her the rest of the way over and onto her tummy.
“Please take that nasty thing out of my bottom,” she begged hysterically.
“Not yet, my girl. We have a few things to get settled first,” he said. “If you want your poor little rosebud to stop hurting, you better relax. You’re taut as a bow and each time you tighten up, you draw that spicy juice further into your bottom, once again proving that you don’t listen to me when I tell you what’s best for you,” he scolded.
As he spoke, he drew a line down her back from the base of her neck to her waist with a bottle of lotion. His strong hands began to massage her tense muscles as she wailed and sniffled.
It wasn’t long before her wailing was reduced to the occasional huff as he worked on her body, rubbing her neck, shoulders and back. He purposely avoided her bottom. He wasn’t ready to soothe that yet, but he moved on to her thighs, calves and feet. Now all he heard were whimpers and moans of pleasure.
Her bottom was a sight to behold. Flaming red cheeks quivered each time his hand hovered anywhere near them. The root still protruded from her tight little anus making his cock extremely jealous. Either the ginger had worn off or she’d finally listened to him. The way her bottom jiggled as he rubbed her high on her thighs made him inclined to believe the latter.
She had relaxed enough that the fire was no longer burning her. He wondered how long that would last once he changed course.
Watching closely, he gave her one sharp slap on her bottom. Instantly she clenched, let out a howl fit to wake the dead and tried to expel the root.
“Now, now, none of that,” he ordered, pushing it back into place. “We’re not nearly done here.”
“What?” she asked, her voice shaking with panic.
“I said we’re not done here. I’ve decided you need a bit of training and as they say, there’s no time like the present.”
Chapter 9
Michael smiled when he felt her body respond to his words. The threat of unknown territory both scared and thrilled her.
“What kind of training?” she whispered.
“Let’s just call it training for now,” he replied. “You need to learn that I mean what I say and when I tell you to do something, it’s for your own good, or my pleasure. Either way, you are to mind me and do it immediately. Do you understand?”
“No,” she breathed, “I don’t.”
“Never mind, babygirl, you will. Now spread your legs nice and wide for Daddy,” he instructed after he removed the panties that were around her ankles.
Chéri complied quickly and it pleased him. At least she was taking him seriously.
“Good girl, now let’s try a little lesson in obedience. Lift up your tummy. I want to pet my sweet kitty. That’s a good baby,” he nearly cooed when she obeyed and he’d placed his hand on her mons, cupping her pussy firmly.
“Oh, so nice and warm and wet,” he praised. “I think someone like’s it when Daddy is stern.” Feeling her shiver, he continued. “Now I’m going to see how the inside feels. Daddy is going to slip his fingers deep inside you and pet you there as well. Be a good girl and lay still. Remember, if you tighten up, your poor rosebud will pay the price,” he warned.
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