“And, do you at least have an idea of what you want from this?” From me?”
He watched, curious, as she stood, fished a crumpled piece of yellow legal paper from her pocket, and wordlessly handed it to him.
He read it over quickly, relieved to see that it was exactly what he had expected. She wasn’t in the least bit interested in any of the more hardcore D/s BDSM stuff, which wasn’t an area he had tons of experience in anyway. She was okay with nearly everything that fell under the domestic discipline umbrella, and some of the mild age-play components. In short, she wanted a Daddy dom. It was somewhat new to him too, but with Francesca, it just felt natural, and he was more than happy to oblige with everything she had written down. Some of it would take more time and preparation than others. Tonight, he would work with what he had, and throw in a few things of his own.
Setting his mouth in a firm line, he folded the paper into a neat square, and tucked it into his shirt pocket.
Francesca went white as a sheet. “Is it, is it okay?” she squeaked, looking suddenly more vulnerable than he had ever seen her look.
“Shhh, little one, it’s perfect.” He opened his arms, and she snuggled into them.
“Daddy,” she whispered, he assumed trying it on for size.
“Yes, little Franny?”
“Just checking,” she giggled.
*****
After the day she had had, being snuggled in Finley’s, no, she corrected herself, Daddy’s embrace was the perfect antidote for the worries and uncertainty that had been plaguing her for hours.
She breathed in deeply, inhaling his scent of peppermint and pine, and exhaled, feeling all the tension leave her body.
Finley did his best to hold her as tightly and closely as he could against him, even with his broken ribs. She wanted to stay there all night. She wanted to be content and safe in her daddy’s arms, and not worry about whether or not he liked it as much as she did, or whether he was actually planning on punishing her tonight, or the fact that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and she was starving, but her stomach told the truth, grumbling loudly. Finn pulled back and looked at her with a concerned frown. “Are you hungry, little one?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Okay, baby girl. Daddy will make you a nice dinner, and while I am doing that, you will go get ready for your spanking. We’ll take care of it, right after dinner, so we can put it behind us, and have a nice evening together.”
She nodded.
“Okay, listen very carefully to what Daddy tells you, and do everything he says, so you don’t get in any more trouble tonight.”
Chapter Fourteen
Francesca’s eyes were bugging out of her head, as she followed Finley’s instructions to a tee, taking care not to forget a thing. She took a hot shower, and shaved herself bare, using his razor. She dressed in one of his T-shirts, and put her thick hair into two long braids. No bra, but underwear was fine for now, he had said. It was a good thing too, because she was so aroused, if she went without panties, she was likely to leave stains on all his furniture at this point.
She had not expected him to fall into the role so quickly and fully, but he was correct when he said that it seemed like the natural course of action for them. When she stopped and thought about how often Finley called her “Franny,” “little girl” or “little one”, it only made sense that she felt comfortable calling him Daddy. Every time she said it out loud, it felt less weird than it had the first time. After all, she had never truly had a daddy. Joe had been Father, in every sense of the word.
Francesca stared at herself in the mirror and smiled. It was amazing really. With her make-up scrubbed off, her hair in braids, wearing only panties, a white T-shirt and a pair of Finn’s tube socks- she really did look like a little girl. She also looked incredibly sexy.
Was that okay? She remembered reading online that some daddies didn’t want to have sex when their partner was in “little mode”, whatever that meant, and she wondered how Finley would feel about it. How did one get out of little mode anyway? Just wave a magic wand, and poof, he’s Finley again, and not Daddy? That seemed a little weird to her, but then again, all of it did. Weird and exciting.
When she was finished preparing, and there were no reasons left to dawdle, she made her way into the kitchen feeling suddenly self-conscious. It must have shown on her face, because Finley stopped what he was doing and gave her a hug.
“Very good, little one. Daddy is very pleased with you. There might even be rewards later. Did you remember to shave?” he asked, lifting up her shirt, and pulling her panties down just enough to inspect her newly shaved pussy.
“Yes, Daddy,” she squeaked even though the answer was now obvious.
“Good girl. Please sit down at the table, and wait for your dinner.”
Finley brought out grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, and they ate in silence, each one wrapped up in their thoughts about their new dynamic.
When their plates were clear, Francesca moved to clear the table, but Finn waved at her to leave it. “The mess isn’t going anywhere, and we have some things that need taken care of,” he admonished sternly.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Finley pointed to a wooden dining room chair that was now prominently placed in the center of the living room. He must have moved it while she was in the shower. “Go sit. You and I are going to have a discussion about safety, young lady.”
Her heart pounding in her chest, Francesca obeyed. Finley had never made a point to lecture before he punished. It was usually something he threw in between swats, preferring to let his hand or belt do most of the talking for him. She wondered briefly if this was a foreboding sign of what was to come.
It was. Finn, as it turned out was a master lecturer, and by the time he was finished, she was squirming in her seat, tears streaking down her face at an alarming pace, and swearing up one side and down the other to never text and drive again.
“Oh, that’s a given little one. After I am done with you tonight, you won’t so much as think about your phone when you are behind the wheel of a car. I promise you that much.”
Already utterly convinced that this was true, she nodded emphatically in agreement. At this point, she felt about two feet tall, and thoroughly chastised. She also felt very scared of what was to come. She had never seen Finley quite so serious, not even when she had “borrowed” his truck, or hitchhiked down the highway.
“Alright, Francesca, stand up please.” She stood, and watched as Finley gathered the lower hem of his shirt and tied it in a knot around her waist. “Give me your panties, and get your naughty bottom to the corner. You are going to think about what you did wrong, while I prepare for your punishment.”
She slid out of them, quickly, and stuffed them in his outstretched hand, scurrying into the corner on the far side of the room. She did not need to be told twice. Hopefully the timeout would give her time to get her crying under control, as pointless as it might prove to be. Judging by how serious Finley was taking this, she would be crying many more tears before the night was through.
*****
Finley watched with heavy-hearted resolve as Franny positioned herself in the corner. Tonight was going to be a hard night for them both. His little princess was about to learn some hard truths- one of which being that dangerous behavior gets the strap. Every single time. The second of which being, as intense as he could make a spanking, there were still things he could do afterwards to make the results longer lasting and more intense. And the third, was that she belonged to him- every part of her was his to claim.
Preparing took a little longer than it normally would have being that he was impaired by his crutches, and that the items he needed were scattered throughout the house, but it was okay. A good long timeout would help keep his princess in the right mindset for the thrashing she was about to receive.
This caliber of spanking was generally a turning point in a relationship, and he wasn’t used to reaching that turning
point quite so early on, but that was his Franny. All in.
He took his time, meandering through the house, checking things off the list in his head, making sure doors were locked, and windows were shut. There were no immediate neighbors, but it never hurt to be safe.
Finally, he returned to the living room with everything he needed packed into the same small duffel bag that had earlier held his clothing from Joe’s house, and sat on the couch, watching his Franny. Her still pink bottom bounced as she shifted from one foot to the other, anxiously. Her hands were folded behind her back, and her nose was pressed tightly against the wall.
“Very good, little one. You may come out now, and place yourself across my knees.” It was not the easiest position for him in his current situation, but it was the most comforting, which was what she would need.
His Franny looked so cute as she slowly made the trip across the room until she was standing beside him. He made a mental note as she walked to get some pink jammies and hair bows. Patting his knee expectantly, he waited for her to be ready to submit to her spanking. When she finally did, he shifted, and pulled her close, tucking her in tight so that he could keep a good hold on her.
Finally, his hand came to rest on her backside, and she whimpered in anticipation. “Not yet, little one. This is going to be a big spanking, hopefully the worst I ever have to give you, but you need to learn that Daddies don’t play around when it comes to their little girl’s safety. If you take big risks with your life and the lives of others, I’m going to make sure that you learn your lesson in such a way that you are never tempted to make the same mistake again. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Daddy!” Francesca cried, pitifully. He could tell she was having trouble holding the tears at bay already. It was time to get on with it and get it over with.
Resigned to the task before him, Finley unzipped his duffel, and reached inside. “Now, my plan for tonight, Miss Franny, was to give you a nice little funishment spanking, and introduce you to all of the implements in my arsenal, giving you just a whack or two with each, and finishing off with a nice little happy ending for you. But, you blew that plan straight out of the water. So instead, you’re gonna get five with each type of implement in my collection, but only three with the cane, because I don’t want to risk breaking any skin tonight. And then, to finish it off, you’re going to get six with the razor strap, because naughty girls who engage in dangerous behavior always get the strap.”
She had started crying when he mentioned the cane, full-fledged wails of regret that weren’t about to stop so she could answer, so he let it go, and set to work warming her bottom with his hand, keeping her apprised of what he was doing.
“Warm-ups are important, Francesca, because they prevent bruising, but when you’re really naughty, you only get a short one.” He worked a steady pattern all across the fleshiest parts of her bottom that would bear the brunt of her spanking, short sharp slaps designed to get her ready for what was coming. When he was fully satisfied that she was sufficiently warmed up, and her bottom glowed a soft shade of pink, he chose his first implement.
“You’re lucky, little one, that I’m only giving you a taste of my collection tonight. This is my favorite wooden paddle, that I find to be most effective in getting a point across, but it’s not the only wood that will ever grace your bottom. I have three more paddles, made from all different types of wood- then there’s a wooden spoon, a bath brush, and my personal favorite, the wooden hairbrush. We’ll be making sure to order you your own special naughty girl hairbrush this weekend.” With the explanation over, he raised the paddle and brought it down hard across the middle of her cheeks, taking care to hold her tight against the impact.
“Fuuuckk!” she cried out, attempting to buck off his lap frantically. He had been expecting that, so he just tightened his grip, and brought the paddle down again in the same spot, before moving lower, and aiming the last three across her sit spots, so she would get the full impact of the pain that could be caused from a sturdy wooden paddle.
He repeated the process with a Lexan paddle, a leather paddle, and a tawse, each time explaining what it was, what else he had like it, and when it might be his implement of choice. By the time he finished with the tawse, she was writhing in his lap, unable to keep still, and her body was shaking with sobs. He wasn’t faring much better.
He let her lie there, while he rubbed her back, and murmured endearments and encouragements, until her cries died down, giving them both a rest. There was only nine to go, but they wouldn’t be easy ones.
Finally, when her sobs turned to soft mews of pain, he knew it was time to finish. “Okay, little one, up you go. I’m going to need to stand for these last few, so you’re going to go bend over the chair there, with your hands on the seat.”
The look on her face said that if she could have thought of a single thing to say that might have changed his mind or got her out of what was coming, she would have said it.
Taking pity on her, Finn gave her a big hug, patted her bottom, and led her over to the chair, going back for his duffel once she was settled in position.
The cane he had was a small rattan one, that could have been used OTK, but he was of the opinion that doing so impaired his accuracy- something he could not afford to have happen.
“Okay, Miss Franny, time for a taste of the cane. The cane,” he informed her, “is a severe implement that will be used only in the most serious of offenses, or ones that are being repeated far too often.”
Not having much more to say, he drew back, wincing at the noise it made as it whooshed through the air. When it reached its target, a thin red line popped up in the middle of an already red bottom, and a second later the scream followed, but to Franny’s credit, she didn’t break position at all. He aimed the cane twice more, careful that the lines didn’t touch or overlap each other in any way.
When it was time for the razor strap, he walked around the chair, and showed it to her. “This is what dangerous behavior will get you Franny. Every single time.”
Breathlessly, with a mixture of sweat and tears running down her face, she nodded her understanding.
The razor strop was thick and worn, and probably a good sixty years old- a treasure he had found while shopping at an antique store one weekend many years ago. The metal had already been cut off on one end, making him wonder if the previous owner hadn’t used it for a similar purpose.
It was an evil implement, which made it an effective one- it packed a punch without causing the same sort of damage that a cane would. That would be important later.
“Don’t move, Franny. You’re getting six, and then the spanking will be all over.”
He heard her deep breath as she inhaled, as if to fortify herself. He just wanted to get this part of the evening over with. Finn pulled back his arm, making sure to line up the strap with the fleshiest part of her cheeks, and then listened as the strap whistled through the air, and watched as it bounced across her cheeks, leaving them much pinker than they had been previously.
“Shhhiiiiiiit! Holy Shit!” she yelled out, her feet flying up to block the next stroke.
“Move your feet, Franny, and keep them on the ground from now on, or I’ll have to add a stroke, and that won’t be fun for either of us.”
Her feet came down in a flash, just as he’d expected,
“Five more,” he told her just as the strap flew through the air for a second time- falling right across her sit spots. He repeated the action three more times in the same spot, before adjusting to deliver the final stroke across the very top of the cheeks.
“Oh, thank god!” she shrieked as the last one fell. It took everything in him, not to gather her in his arms right away, but he still had one last trick up his sleeve to ensure that she remembered the intensity of this punishment for a long time to come.
Finn pulled a small white tube from his pocket, flipped open the cap, and squeezed a generous amount onto his fingertips. “Normally, Franny, after a spanking such as
this one, I’d rub arnica on your butt to prevent bruising. But I want you to feel the worst- so you know what it is and aren’t tempted to play the “what would happen game” like so many naughty girls tend to do. So I’m telling you right now, as far as intensity goes- this is the worst. After a time, it might take more swats to get to this point, but as far as pain goes, this is the worst it will get.”
“Well, that's a fucking relief. If it was much worse than this, I would die.”
Finn let the curse pass, and didn’t bother correcting her assumption that she had already felt the worst. She hadn’t.
Moving quickly, he applied the lotion all over her cheeks, and on her outer sit spots, taking great care not to get any too close to her private areas.
“Don’t move. I’m going to go wash my hands.”
He was in the kitchen when the screaming started. “Holy shit balls! Holy mother of god- what kind of voodoo shit is this anyway? Finley Tucker- I’m going to kill you, you sadistic bastard! Mother freaking monkey balls, it fucking burns!”
He was coming out of the kitchen quickly, but when she yelled about monkey balls, he turned around and booked it back to the kitchen, waiting until he was safely out of earshot before he lost it. And he just lost it. He nearly fell over from laughing so hard. He had never met someone with a vocabulary quite as colorful as his Franny’s, and the things that came out of her mouth, sometimes, well he just couldn’t help himself. Finn allowed himself a minute of laughter, before pulling himself together and high-tailing it back into the living room. Francesca turned and glared at him as he entered.
“Finley Silas Tucker, you sadistic bastard- what in the hell did you rub on my ass?”
“Okay, little one, I understand that it hurts, but that’s enough with the use of my full name. It’s Finley, Daddy or Sir.”
“Fine, Sir,” she spit out, glaring daggers at him. “What the hell did you put on my ass?”
“It’s Icy Hot.”
Chapter Fifteen
Catching Her Cowboy Daddy Page 12