Creating Little Chloe (My Little World Book 8)

Home > Other > Creating Little Chloe (My Little World Book 8) > Page 4
Creating Little Chloe (My Little World Book 8) Page 4

by Becca Little


  This spanking really hurts!

  Maybe my parents were right. I probably should have finished school before I ran off into the night. It was mind shattering just how much the spanking made me take a moment and reflect on the journey so far, and how far I really had to go. I really was just a stupid child. I barely noticed the spanking had stopped when it finally did. My bottom was two blistered, burning orbs of pain when he released his grip on my arm. I lay across his lap and continued to sob. After a few minutes, he helped me up and held me in his arms. I cried into his shoulder and just let it all out. The tears from the spanking were gone, but the emotional ones were just beginning.

  Chapter 7: Megan

  We had a real conversation that night. He ordered pizza and I actually ate a couple of slices, not concerned about the weight it might put on my frame. I thanked him for opening my eyes and helping me see just how foolish my whole endeavor actually was. He listened intently while he sipped whiskey. There were a couple of beers in the fridge way past their shelf life, but I took one and sipped on it while we talked. I could barely remember the girl with a head full of sugarplums and stupidity, yet she was me only a couple of days before that moment. I finally took his phone from him and went outside where I called my parents.

  They were relieved to hear from me, and begged me to come home. I told them I was okay, and why I left. I got scolded by my father first, then my mother, and then both together on speaker phone. I held my head in my hands and wept, but I kept the tears from drifting into the conversation. I stood my ground with them, and I told them that I had dreams, but I couldn’t make it without some form of support. The phone call ended with a demand that I come home, but I left it unanswered. I walked back and handed him his phone before I sat down and cried again.

  “They want me to come home.” I said through the river falling from my eyes.

  “Well of course they do. They’re your parents. They want to take care of you.” He didn’t seem to think their request was strange at all.

  “If I go back there, I’ll never get another chance to leave. They’ll probably lock me in my room and never let me come out again.” My head was fuddled by the prospect. Yes, I understood the dream was not going to be easy, but I also didn’t feel like I could let it go completely.

  “They only want what is best for you, just like I want for my kids. Remember, they’ve only met the girl with her head in the clouds. Maybe if you go back and show them you can be mature about it, they’ll be more supportive.” He tried to reason with me, and I nodded.

  “Maybe... I’ve come so far though.” I sighed. “I can’t turn back.”

  “What about another option?” He said calmly.

  “Another option? What option is that?” I looked at him with curiosity.

  “You’re about halfway to California right now. Nobody is staying here in this house, and I barely come by more than once a month. There’s nothing for you to actually steal here.” He smiled but it was condescending. “Why don’t you find a happy medium? Stay here, get a job, and save up so you can actually move to California instead of stumble into it a moment before you fall on your face.”

  “You would trust me?” I couldn’t believe he would, not after what I had done already.

  “Well as I said, there is nothing for you to steal here. I took everything of value out of this place years ago because I was afraid that neighborhood kids would break in and steal it. There’s a car in the garage. It isn’t great by any means, but it will get you from one point to another. I still know a few people here, and I’m sure I could help you find a job. If you don’t want to go to school, that is your choice, but you should try to establish yourself somewhere first. I get that your parents are overbearing, but maybe if you could show them that you could make it on your own, they’d support it.” He raised his glass and nodded.

  That does sound a lot better than moving back home—and I could get to California one day.

  It was a difficult decision, but I finally decided to take him up on his offer. He contacted a local truck driving company, one he worked for before he moved East and started working for a major corporation, and they hired me as a front desk assistant. I organized their stuff and kept track of schedules with the help of a piece of shit computer that barely worked. The pay was next to nothing, but without rent or utilities, it was enough for me to stock the house with supplies. I kept track of when he passed through, and since I was there, he stopped in on almost every trip. I cleaned the house from top to bottom since I didn’t know anyone and I didn’t have a party life.

  I squirreled away money like a bandit, planning my great California getaway. At his insistence, I called my parents once a week to let them know I was alive and kicking. I guess they were happy to hear that, but it was mostly just a chore for me. Before I knew it, a year passed. I settled into my routine, and I found my heart getting excited every time I knew he was coming by. He always brought me trinkets from his travels, like a shot glass from Missouri, a pretty pink bell from Idaho, and an authentic Navajo cooking pot from one of his stranger deliveries. He even sent me a post card from Los Angeles once, which set my imagination on fire.

  I think we both realized something was happening between us before we admitted it to ourselves or each other. I soon found that I was more excited about him coming by than I was about moving to California and finding the dream that seemed to be buried in the past once reality took over. I really liked the freedom of living alone, but having him there felt like I was complete. It warmed my heart when he told me things like the fact he drove all night just so he could spend a couple of extra hours there, and how nice it was to see me. One weekend, he said he could stay a little longer since he wasn’t picking up another load for two days, and the company was paying him to wait.

  I spent as much as I could afford to make a nice meal for us, and even bought a bottle of wine. He seemed pretty surprised when he walked through the door and saw that I had dimmed the lights and lit candles. I led him into the dining room area and we sat down to eat the meal. The steaks I had prepared came out as well as my novice skills could make them, and thankfully he said it was delicious. Once the meal was done, we retired to the living room and sat down.

  Chapter 8: Megan

  “So, what is this exactly?” He asked as he leaned back in his chair. “You fixed a really nice dinner and bought a bottle of wine. Are you about to tell me you’re moving to California?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “That isn’t it at all.” I struggled with my words.

  “Okay, well then spit it out.” He stared at me as I chewed on my bottom lip.

  “I really enjoy it when you come visit. I think I enjoy it even more than I should. Braden, I really like you...” I put it out there, thanks to the courage from the wine.

  “Well I really like you too, but why the dinner? If you didn’t like me, you wouldn’t be staying here...” He tilted his head.

  “I’m saying I...like you.” I tried to put more emphasis on what he said.

  “Oh...” His eyes opened wide as he finally caught what I was saying. “I can’t deny I’ve thought about it, but you’re a lot younger than me. I don’t think I could give you the life you want.”

  “I like the life I have. I like seeing you when you come to visit. I want more than that, but I want you in it.” My heart often ached for him when he was away—but saying it out loud made me realize just how real it was.

  “Sometimes when I look at you, I see a beautiful young woman, and sometimes I still see the little brat I had to put over my knee.” He raised an eyebrow as he said that.

  “I feel the same way.” I snuggled closer. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that day—how I ended up in that position. Sometimes I think I need to be there again.”

  “Why?” He put his arm around me and rubbed my arm.

  “I get lost in my head. I love what I have here and I feel like I’m finally getting to know myself and as I get to know myself, I realize that t
he only reason I’m in this position is because you spanked me.” I closed my eyes and let out a sigh. “It really changed me.”

  “For the better.” He rubbed my arm again.

  “What made you do that in the first place?” I looked up at him. “What made you give me another chance?”

  “It is a little complicated. I’m a complicated man. I don’t really do romance—not anymore. I have a need to nurture and protect, which doesn’t translate well to most relationships. I felt like a spanking would give you the nurturing you needed, and it seems my instincts were correct.” He picked up his drink and sipped it.

  “They were...” I nodded as I looked into his eyes. “But I don’t think one spanking was enough.”

  “You seem to be doing fine since then.” He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head.

  “Yeah, but...” I bit down on my lip. “I feel like I need to be reminded from time to time.”

  “Like now?” He put his drink back on the table.

  “Yes sir.” I nodded in confirmation.

  “Okay then.” He reached over and took my wrist in his hand.

  I had a bit of excitement as he pulled me across his knee for the second time in my life. The first time I was nervous and scared, afraid of what it would be like to get a spanking. Since that moment, it had lingered with me and the thoughts just wouldn’t go away. I felt the need to submit to him, to be reminded that there was someone who cared about me the way that I needed. He took my dress in his hands, folding the fabric back until my panties were exposed. They were a lot different than the ones I wore the time before. Instead of just being basic and white, they were pink and almost see through. They wouldn’t have done anything to protect my bottom from the spanking, even if he left them on—that wasn’t the case. I felt his hands go into the waistband of the fabric and with a quick motion, they were down past my thighs. My bottom was exposed to him and I felt the warmth of his hand against the tender flesh.

  “Tell me why you need to be spanked.” His words were firm, just like they were the time before.

  “I need to be reminded that while I’ve come a long way, I’m still that disrespectful little brat you gave a second chance.” I tensed when I felt his hand lift.

  “When I’m done with you, there will be no doubt.” His hand came down hard in the center of my bottom.

  I felt myself letting go as the spanking began. It was the same intensity as the first one I got with his hand bouncing back and forth across my bottom rapidly, each one a little harder than the one before it. When my bottom started to sting, I had to remind myself that I asked for the spanking. My feet kicked involuntarily and I shuffled around on his lap. I had mentally prepared for the spanking, but there was nothing to prepare my bottom for the sting. I squirmed around, but he put a hand around my waist and kept me locked in position so he could continue delivering the hard, stinging smacks to my unprotected bottom. I felt my emotions releasing, the tightness in my chest finally unclenched after what felt like an eternity of keeping me bound in a knot of emotional turmoil.

  “Ow!” I squealed and shuffled, putting my hand back to protect my bottom from the next smack.

  “Move your hand, Megan.” He paused and waited. “You asked for a spanking and you’re going to get one.”

  “Yes sir...” I moved my hand and felt an extremely hard smack in the middle. “Ouch!” My hand flew back again.

  “This spanking is going to be a lot harder and longer than the last one I gave you if you keep putting your hand back here.” He paused and waited again.

  “That last smack hurt...” I whimpered.

  “Do you want them all to be like that?” His tone was almost threatening.

  “No sir!” I shook my head rapidly.

  “You got one hard smack for putting your hand back here. This time is going to cost you five. The next time, you get every smack like that until your spanking is over.” He pushed my hand out of the way. “I would suggest you let this be the last time.”

  The five smacks were so intense that I thought I was going to scream. I managed to keep my hand still, but it was almost a relief when he went back to just simply spanking me. The legacy of my transgression remained because my bottom was on fire. I felt tears welling up in my eyes and they started to flow down my face. I had asked for a spanking and I was certainly going to get one. He wasn’t showing me any mercy because I was a volunteer. The pace picked up and he stopped going from one side of my bottom to the other as often, instead remaining to deliver two to three smacks before starting on the other side. The stinging in my bottom started to get more intense to the point it was burning.

  “I’m sorry! Please!” I begged as the tears continued to fall.

  “I think we’re going to repeat this every time I come for a visit.” He delivered three smacks in the center of my bottom. “That should ensure you have a regular reminder.”

  “No, please...” I sobbed, but even as my words were spoken, I knew I probably did need that.

  “From this point forward, you will be spanked regularly.” He shifted me on his knee and started spanking me a little faster.

  My mind raced with the thought of it, but there was nothing I could to focus on the future because the present was too painful. I squealed and squirmed while he continued to spank me. Every bit of pent up emotion rolled down my face in form of wet tears that started to leave a mark on the couch. He finally started to slow down and I drew a breath, hopeful that the agonizing punishment was over. It was as intense as the one before it, amplified by the additional punishment I got for putting my hand in the way. I vowed never to do that again. I would be a volunteer and completely submissive for the next one. He gave me a few harder ones as it came to a conclusion and then his hand stopped falling.

  Chapter 9: Little Chloe

  “Do you feel better now?” He pulled me off his knee and wrapped his arms around me.

  “Yes—well, other than my bottom.” I leaned against his shoulder and cried into his shirt.

  “I think you need a special kind of nurturing.” He caressed my hair and whispered into my ear. “You need to submit to me and become my little girl.”

  “Your little girl?” I definitely felt like one after going across his knee.

  “You’re getting really good at taking care of yourself, but you’re not quite ready for California. You have a lot of growing up to do and in order to do that, I think you need to be regressed to the beginning and relearn things that you didn’t learn properly the first time.” He continued whispering into my ear, but his lips were so close it was sending shivers through my body.

  “Will I get spanked?” I felt like I knew the answer to that.

  “Yes, and other things.” He nodded.

  “Does that mean we can’t do what I want to do right now?” I lightly kissed his neck.

  “Being my submissive little girl means you give yourself to me in every way.” He kissed my ear.

  “I like the sound of that.” I sighed as his lips made me shiver again.

  He pushed me back slightly and brought his lips to mine. It was like fireworks going off in my head the minute they connected. His tongue slid between my lips and began to ravage my mouth as the passion ignited. I knew I wanted him—I knew I wanted him to take my virginity. The sting from the spanking start to wear off but I was burning with a desire for Braden. Our kiss continued and I started moving my body against his, feeling his cock getting hard in his pants. He kissed along my neck and my shoulders until I was quivering with desire. When my dress was removed, he slid his hand behind my back and removed my bra. My panties were still around my thighs but he worked them off, moving a finger between my thighs and lightly rubbing my wetness.

  “I’ve never had sex with a virgin before.” He pushed his finger in slightly and I felt it pressing against my hymen.

  “Then I can be your first.” I smiled and kissed him again as he made me tense up with excitement from the way his finger penetrated me.

&nb
sp; Braden picked me up in his arms and carried me to the bedroom. He put me down on the bed and started to remove his shirt. When it was peeled from his torso, I got my first look at his muscular body. I knew he was strong and I had seen the outline of his muscles against his shirt, but seeing his naked torso made me get even more excited. He was ripped and shredded with muscles that put some of the men I saw in magazines to shame. He started unfastening his pants and I watched as they slid past his hips. I had only seen an erect penis in porn, so when I got my first sight of his, I was a bit concerned. His cock was enormous and engorged with his lust. He climbed into the bed and started pushing my legs apart. I let them fall open as he slid between my thighs until the head of his cock was against the entrance of my pussy.

  “It’s okay to be nervous.” He pushed against it a little harder, slightly parting my labia.

  “I’m not nervous. I want you.” I smiled and reached for him, tracing his arms with my fingernails.

  He pushed his glans past my labia until I felt the entrance of my pussy begin to stretch. His finger hadn’t done much to loosen me up at all, and I felt a lot of pressure when his cock started to penetrate me. My wetness provided some lubrication, but my pussy was so tight that I could hardly imagine what it would be like to have his entire cock inside of it. Thankfully, he was gentle with his approach and although there was a pain when he started to stretch my pussy, it wasn’t bad enough to make me want him to stop. He pushed a little more and let me adjust to the glans before he pulled back and started to push it in again. After several slow and steady insertions, he had stretched the entrance enough to accommodate the head. I pussy quickly learned to adjust to his size, even as he repeated the motions. He pushed a little deeper, getting further inside of me than I had ever dared to go with my finger. I felt his cock pressing against my hymen. He let it linger there for a moment until I adjusted and then pulled back. He went in a little harder with the next thrust and the thin layer of skin that blocked his entry into the rest of my pussy was bent and stretched. He pulled back one more time and thrust even harder, so hard that when he hit my hymen, it gave way and began to tear. Once his cock was pushed past it, I felt the torn flesh begin to sting as it was stretched.

 

‹ Prev