Naughty Immy's Punishment

by Carole Archer

  She turned to Mark and looked at him pleadingly. “Uncle Mark, you can’t do that to me. You’re our friend, please,” she begged. “I know you’re a police officer and you have to abide by the law, but you can make an exception for me, surely?” she whined. “Besides, you know Daddy would never press charges against me. He just wouldn’t.”

  The colour drained from Imogen’s face when her husband gripped her hands and placed them back on the top of her head. He leaned close to her face and looked her directly in the eyes. He spoke very slowly and calmly, letting the words sink in, and Imogen’s lip quivered, her eyes filling with tears. “Imogen, I am very angry, and I intend to punish you harder than my little girl’s ever been punished before. If you refuse, Uncle Mark will arrest you and take you to the police station. I would be very reluctant to let that happen, but you need to learn your lesson,” he told her, sighing and stroking her cheek tenderly. “I care about you too much to allow you to get away with such behaviour. It will not be tolerated,” he said firmly.

  Imogen swallowed anxiously, tears streaking her cheeks. Her eyes were wide as she tried to process her daddy’s words. Surely he wouldn’t let Uncle Mark arrest her. Despite how naughty she had been, her daddy still loved her. He had to. Life wouldn’t be worth living if he didn’t. And surely Uncle Mark wouldn’t really arrest her, would he? She glanced into his stern face and wasn’t so sure.

  “Imogen, if you’re arrested you could end up with a criminal record,” her angry daddy told her, sighing deeply as she shuffled her feet, her face pale.

  “Alternatively you can accept a series of punishments that will be embarrassing and uncomfortable, but will do no lasting damage to you or your career prospects,” her daddy added.

  Imogen sobbed, her thoughts moving to the law firm she worked for. She knew that a criminal record would totally ruin her chances of moving out of admin and starting on the training that would lead to her eventually becoming a barrister. Her boss had told her recently he was taking steps to make this a reality.

  Taking a deep breath, she nodded slowly. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I don’t know what came over me. I was embarrassed and I wanted to get you back,” she stuttered, gazing down towards the floor, too humiliated to look him in the eye. “I love you, Daddy, and I’m truly sorry,” she whispered.

  Glancing up at her daddy, she was distraught when his face remained stern. “I’m still too angry to offer you the comfort you want, Immy,” he told her, “but you will regret your foolish attempts at revenge by the time I’m finished with you. “Now go upstairs and get me the lubricant and thermometer,” he ordered.

  Imogen dropped her hands to her sides and ran towards the stairs, tugging her skirt down over her stinging bottom. She knew her daddy would only bare her bottom again, but she felt foolish running around with her naked behind hanging out. She ran up the stairs and shuddered, picking up the items he had requested, and with trembling hands she carried them downstairs, blushing as she gazed at them and thought about what her daddy would soon be doing to her.

  As she entered the living room, she glanced at Uncle Mark, who was sitting on the sofa. Her husband sat facing him on a straight backed chair he had brought through from the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she whimpered, cautiously approaching him and holding the items out to him. He took them from her and put them on a small table beside him, guided her between his legs and across his left thigh. He tugged her skirt up once more and immediately landed a hard smack on her bottom, which made her yelp in surprise. She felt him shift to his right and squirmed as she heard him unscrew the lid on the jar of lubricant. Moments later he made a show of parting her buttocks wide, before his thoroughly greased finger slowly slid into her tight bottom hole, lubricating it well.

  As Imogen squirmed across his lap, she was horrified when he removed his finger, slapped her bottom sharply and ordered her to “hold your bottom cheeks apart so I can insert the thermometer.”

  Imogen shook her head. “No, Daddy!” she wailed, desperate not to be humiliated in such a manner.

  “Very well,” her daddy replied, taking a firm hold on her butt cheeks and tugging them apart once more. “Mark, could you come here and insert that thermometer for me, please. I seem to have my hands quite full here,” he joked.

  Imogen wailed in despair and kicked her legs, howling in shock when seconds later a sharp hand spank landed on her exposed bottom hole. A blush rose up her chest, warming her neck and cheeks as she realised that her daddy was still holding her buttocks apart and the smack must have come from Uncle Mark. Burying her face in her hands, she sobbed, “Daddy, I can’t believe you’re doing something so beastly to me”.

  She whimpered as the end of the thermometer was pressed into her stinging bottom hole and was moved slowly into her tight sphincter. She held her breath as gentle pressure was applied to the thermometer and her cheeks were held apart to the point of discomfort. She squirmed in distress when the thermometer finally ceased its invasion of her anus and finally stilled. Her buttocks were mercifully released, and they instantly clamped around the rod lodged deeply inside her bottom.

  “Any more nonsense, little girl, and Uncle Mark can take over,” Adam said with a warning tone, taking the thermometer between his thumb and forefinger and twisting it. Imogen wailed in outrage, wishing her daddy would remove it, send her to bed, and send Uncle Mark away. He had made his point, she knew she was to be punished, but there was no reason for his friend to hang around. She thought about the smack on her bottom hole and wondered what other nasty ideas Uncle Mark had. She vowed she would be good and give her daddy no further reason to let his police officer friend loose on her bottom. She had no desire for him to take any further part in her chastisement, and she promised herself that however hard it got, she would behave.

  Chapter Three

  Imogen breathed slowly, wincing whenever her daddy twisted the thermometer, reminding her of its presence—as if she could ever forget it was there! She couldn’t understand why he was taking her temperature. He had already verified this morning that there was nothing wrong with her, but she guessed he was just showing her that he could humiliate her if he wished, and right now she was feeling more embarrassed than she had ever imagined possible.

  “Please, Daddy, I’m sorry. You’ve made your point,” she whined, wiggling her bottom in desperation in an attempt to unseat the awful, hard wand that penetrated her bottom hole. She felt immense relief when Adam immediately removed the thermometer.

  “I’ve made my point?” he said, his voice registering disbelief. “You think so, do you?” he snapped irritably, smacking her bottom sharply. Imogen yelped and tried to push up off his lap, but when his arm clamped across her back, she slumped forward and sighed deeply. “Little girl, you’ll be well aware when I’ve made my point, because you’ll have immense trouble sitting down comfortably,” he told her, “and your shame will be much greater than it is right now,” he added ominously.

  Imogen shuddered and nodded. She knew from bitter experience that she should expect nothing less, but she was still hopeful that her daddy might take pity on her and accept the situation they were in was partly his fault. Scowling, she guessed there was more chance of her winning the Lottery than that happening, but she nevertheless crossed her fingers and prayed for a miracle.

  “Immy, you have acted very childishly, and your punishment today will be appropriate for that of such a naughty little girl,” he told her sternly.

  Imogen pouted and nodded, howling as he slapped her bottom sharply. “Yes Daddy,” she wailed, hopeful that a show of remorse might be the key to persuading him to ask his friend to leave. She realised there was no getting out of her punishment but hoped that her daddy might spare her an audience if she was suitably compliant and contrite.

  “Up you get,” Adam said, smacking her bottom once more before releasing his vice-like grip around her waist.

  Imogen instantly jumped to her feet, her hands reaching back to cup her s
tinging butt cheeks. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I promise I won’t ever be so naughty again,” she said, tipping her head to one side and gazing up at him with tear filled eyes. She pouted slightly to complete the look of a very contrite little girl, but sadly her daddy’s stern gaze did not waver.

  “Right, young lady, I’m going upstairs to collect a few things. While I’m gone, I expect you to strip off and lay down,” he said, crossing the room and pulling something out from between the end of the dresser and the wall. Imogen’s cheeks flushed scarlet as she realised what her daddy had gone for. His back was facing her and she could not yet see what he was holding, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt what was in his hands.

  “Oh no, Daddy,” she gasped, as he turned and looked at her, holding out the large baby changing mat he had specially made for her—and this had happened after Uncle Mark’s last visit, so he had not yet seen it, Imogen realised with growing distress. She hated that her daddy kept it in the living room. She often worried that a visitor might see it and question what it was, and she always became anxious when she was in trouble because she knew it was within easy reach if her daddy wanted to give her a humiliating punishment. Now that Uncle Mark was about to see it, tears stung her eyes, and she was more embarrassed than she could have imagined. Although he knew she had an age play relationship with her daddy, him knowing she was diapered by her daddy was on another level, and she was not prepared to go there just yet.

  Walking towards her, Adam’s eyes remained focused on hers. When he reached her, he dropped the mat to the carpet and turned to Mark. Imogen stared at the mat, blinking back tears, hoping that Adam was about to ask his friend to leave. Her eyes remained transfixed on the oversized pink and white striped changing mat, and she crossed her fingers and prayed that Uncle Mark was going to go back to work now.

  “Mark, if she doesn’t get undressed and lay down, I’m giving you my permission to give her a bit of encouragement,” Adam told the officer, picking up a hairbrush from the dresser and handing it to him.

  Imogen gasped and shook her head. She grasped the hem of her skirt and tugged it down, trembling when her daddy turned to face her once more.

  He immediately looked down at her skirt and shook his head. “Well, Immy, if you’re insistent on being a naughty girl, you might as well go over Uncle Mark’s knee right now,” he told her, glaring angrily.

  “No, Daddy,” she shrieked, taking a step away from him and reaching her arms around her back to unfasten her skirt. With trembling fingers she opened the button and slid down the zipper, before pulling her skirt down over her bottom. Glancing up at her daddy, her lower lip trembled as he turned away from her and headed for the stairs. She glanced across at Uncle Mark, who tapped the brush against the palm of his hand as he stared intently at her. Swallowing nervously, she hesitated, still clutching her skirt around her thighs, unable to believe what was happening to her.

  “Uncle Mark, don’t you have to get back to work?” she asked, glancing nervously towards the stairs.

  “Imogen, stop stalling, I’ve just finished my shift, so no, you don’t have to worry about making me late for work,” he replied.

  Imogen’s heart sunk at this news. She knew that nothing, apart from her daddy asking him to leave, would make her Uncle Mark go—and she knew without a doubt that her daddy had no intention of doing that.

  “He’ll be back in a minute, and if you’re not naked on your changing mat, he’ll expect you to be across my knee. If you dare to make him any angrier with your silly behaviour, I promise you I’ll blister your bottom, little girl,” he warned sternly, standing up and crossing the room towards her. “The spankings you’ve had in the past from me will be child’s play compared to what I’ll do if you don’t do as you’re told,” he snapped.

  Imogen winced at the irony of his words, thinking that child’s play was exactly what they’d indulged in previously. The knowledge that this was going to be much more severe made her very anxious indeed.

  “No,” shrieked Imogen, dropping her skirt to the floor and pulling her panties down around her ankles. “Please don’t spank me. I’ll be a good girl,” she promised. Standing up, her gaze remained on the hairbrush, which still tapped against Uncle Mark’s hand.

  He stepped closer and Imogen quickly started to unfasten the buttons on her blouse. “Please, can’t you go away and let us deal with this in private,” she begged, reaching out and gripping his hand. When he patted the hairbrush against the back of her hand, she immediately pulled her hand away, her eyes widening with fear.

  Imogen screeched as Uncle Mark finally lost patience, grasped her wrist, and pulled her towards him. In an instant he had her bent forward and tucked under his arm. She struggled briefly, hollering loudly when the brush cracked down on her right cheek. “Are you going to do as you’re told, or do I need to take you across my knee, little girl?” he asked angrily as he smacked the heavy wooden implement firmly down on her left buttock.

  “I’m sorry,” she squealed, straightening up as he released her. She immediately grasped her burning buns, glaring accusingly at him. She would never forgive her daddy for doing this to her. She was mortified with shame.

  Uncle Mark sighed and stepped towards Imogen, reaching for her wrist. Snatching her hand away, she shook her head. “No, please don’t,” she begged. “I’ll be good,” she promised, sighing deeply and closing her eyes as her fingers returned to the buttons on her blouse and hesitantly unfastened them. Pulling the garment over her arms, she swallowed anxiously as she reluctantly dropped it to the floor.

  She wished that another officer had answered the call to go out to her husband. She was certain the outcome relating to Adam would have been the same, there was nothing to substantiate her story, and they would surely have let him go. At least if a stranger had attended the house to speak to Adam, she would not have to go through this embarrassment—she hoped, briefly wondering if Adam ever would punish her in front of a stranger. The thought was too horrible to imagine, and she pushed it quickly from her mind.

  Looking warily at Uncle Mark and putting her hands to her breasts over the one remaining item of clothing she still had on, she was surprised when he smiled and put his hand on her arm in a comforting gesture. “Immy,” he soothed, reaching out and brushing away a tear that leaked from her eye. “Please be a good girl,” he urged. “Adam is rightly furious with you. You surely don’t want to make him any angrier than he already is, do you?”

  Imogen shook her head, tears spilling from her eyes and rolling down her cheeks as she slowly moved her hands behind her, unhooked the clasp on her bra, moved the straps down her arms and blushed as she dropped it to the floor.

  “Good girl,” Mark whispered, giving her a small hug and kissing her lightly on the forehead before taking her hand and guiding her to the mat. She stared at it, shook her head with disbelief, closed her eyes, and with a deep sigh lowered herself to the floor. She cringed as her naked skin pressed against the cold, waterproof cover of the mat.

  Unfortunately for Imogen, her daddy re-entered the room just in time to see her cross her arms over her breasts and bend her knees, pulling them up towards her chest in an attempt to conceal her modesty.

  “Immy,” her daddy snapped harshly. “Get those legs down and your hands on your head,” he ordered, in a voice that brooked no disobedience. Humiliated beyond belief, she slowly complied with his request, her cheeks colouring as she reached up and placed her hands on her head, her small breasts jutting out, her nipples erect as the cool air brushed her naked skin. Uncle Mark had never seen her naked before. He had seen her bare bottom, obviously, and probably got a glimpse of her pussy on those occasions he had spanked her, but he had never seen her in the nude, and she was suddenly desperate to shield herself from his gaze.

  “Daddy, please, I’m so sorry,” she whimpered, lowering her legs to the mat. “This is so embarrassing,” she added, glancing up at Uncle Mark who still stood over her.

  Imogen yelped in shock w
hen her daddy knelt down in front of her, grasped her ankles and yanked them up into the air, pulling her legs apart and pushing them towards her body, putting her into the humiliating diaper position. Generally she adored this position and loved the tender way her daddy treated her at these times, but she had a bad feeling this was not going to be nice at all.

  “Immy,” her daddy sighed, “I want you to be embarrassed. I want you to know how much you humiliated me today, and how much worse it could have been had Mark not attended and this unfortunate incident happened simply because you didn’t get your own way,” he snapped, shaking his head.

  Her lip quivered as she saw the disappointment on his face, and she nodded sadly. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she whispered. “I swear I’ll never do something so stupid ever again,” she promised, and she truly meant it. She hated to see her daddy look so forlorn, and it was even worse knowing that she was the cause of that grief.

  Adam nodded slowly. “Immy,” he sighed. “I don’t want to have to be so harsh with you. It hurts me to have to do this, but you will never behave so irresponsibly ever again. I intend to make this punishment as horrible as I can because I never ever want you to forget what the consequences of such behaviour will be. Do you understand?” he asked calmly, his voice softer now.

  Imogen nodded and blinked back tears. “Yes, Daddy,” she replied, her voice filled with shame.

  “Let’s get this over with,” he whispered, giving her a small smile as he pushed her further back into the diaper position, raising her bottom from the mat.

  Imogen closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing, immediately trying to shut out his next words. “Mark, could you help me, please? Just hold her legs in position for me,” he said with an unyielding tone. Imogen’s cheeks flushed as her husband’s good friend knelt behind her head and grasped her ankles.