His Sassy Girl (Desiring the Forbidden Book 2)

by Michaels, Megan

  She didn’t have time to worry about the nursery at that moment though. Much more pressing concerns presented themselves once she set foot in the classroom. Sassy was marched up to the front of the room, and left to stand in front of the desk, just as Belle had been previously. Professor Maddox situated himself before her, leaning casually on the front of his desk, crossing his ankles and his arms, clenching his jaw, his eyes narrowed.

  Before Sassy could utter the quip that danced on the tip of her tongue, her Daddy yanked roughly on her pale pink skirt, whisking it to her ankles in one tug, leaving her standing in her barely there white thong. Her bare ass faced the class, the bystanders who’d followed them crowding into the room to watch, joining the others who were already observing the scenes in the classroom. She reached behind her to shield her nakedness from their view.

  “You lace those hands behind your head. If they come anywhere near your ass again, they’ll be cuffed and bound. Understand?” Daddy Maddox roughly placed both of her hands atop her head, expecting her immediate obedience. The Daddy Maddox role frightened her more than Professor Maddox ever did — and before today she wouldn’t have thought that humanly possible.

  Sassy didn’t waste any time complying. “So... I have to answer to both of you now?”

  In hindsight, that probably should have been a question she’d left floating around in her head. But once again, she acted like a human gum ball machine — whatever was in her head just rolled off her tongue, presenting itself to the world.

  Dylan pinched her chin between his fingers. “Yes. Until I give further instructions, you are answering to Daddy Maddox and doing everything he says. Clear?”

  Sassy nodded quietly.

  “Good.” Daddy then addressed Maddox. “Professor, she’s yours for the time being. Punish her as you see fit for the name calling and disrespect.” He pivoted and sat down in a nearby chair, crossing an ankle across his knee as he observed the proceedings.

  Sassy watched her Daddy’s face carefully. He didn’t seem pleased, but not overly angry either. She had no doubt in her mind though that he expected her to listen, to behave — and do as she was told.

  “So, you said that you were afraid while watching the scene with Belle? Tell me why.”

  Oh, God.

  “Well... it was so harsh. And she was exposed to everyone. They all saw... everything.”

  Maddox stood, circling her slowly, brushing a finger over her, rubbing it along the sensitive flesh of her neck, tipping her chin up. “Do you think her punishment was undeserved?”

  “N-no, Sir. She was disrespectful and disobedient.”

  He leaned against his desk again, smirking at her. “Interesting. It seems that someone else here today was disrespectful and disobedient too. Isn’t that true?”

  Shit!

  “Well... can I plead the Fifth?”

  Maddox laughed out loud. “Goddamn, you’re sassy. No wonder your Daddy calls you that. No, you cannot ‘plead the Fifth.’ First, this isn’t a court of law. This place is run more like a totalitarian society. We control most aspects of your life — and how you conduct yourself on every level — while you’re here. You’ll find, girl, that curbing your sassy tongue — and obeying the dictates of this society — is in your best interests. And it’ll keep your little ass out of trouble too.”

  “Y-yes, Sir.”

  “You know what I think, Miss Johnson? I think you were afraid because part of you liked what you witnessed. Part of you would like to be exposed and humiliated in front of the spectators. I think it’s the same reason you were so enthralled with the medical play. Your kink more than likely is public humiliation — which is okay. But as you’ve already guessed by watching me, that doesn’t really concern me. My interest and goals are to give you the incentive to behave and to correct misbehavior — harshly, if necessary.”

  Sassy swallowed uncomfortably, the butterflies in her belly becoming more pronounced.

  “Calling me — or any Daddy here — names, is a pretty serious offense. I don’t believe in my years teaching — here or in the real world — that anybody has had the audacity to call me a ‘douchebag.’ I don’t think anyone has had the guts or stupidity to even dare. And after tonight, you won’t either. Have you been spanked as an adult, Sassy?”

  She peeked out of the corner of her eye to see Dylan smirking from his chair. “Yes, Sir. Many times.”

  Maddox chuckled. “I bet. Let’s begin then. Climb onto my desk. On your hands and knees, please.”

  Come again?

  “Sassy?” Dylan dragged her name out, low and long. “Do as you’re told.”

  Shit!

  She crawled onto it, her now trembling ass facing the classroom. She was thankful for the skimpy thong at least hiding some of her pussy.

  “Elbows on the desk. Head down.”

  “Now, wait for a—”

  “Do. It.” Maddox’s voice rumbled through her core. Her belly shook at the dangerous whisper, having much more of an effect on her than shouting ever would. It was the same voice her father, Cade, used when she was a child. It was a tone that brooked no disobedience. She quickly obeyed.

  She felt heat, her face and upper chest flushing deeply. Maybe Maddox was right. She hated the feeling of exposure, knowing the people were all staring at her ass. But part of her wondered if they were turned on, just as she had been with the scenes she’d witnessed earlier. Were the men turned on watching? She knew her clit had been throbbing since she’d climbed onto the desk. And though she’d never admit it to the professor, perhaps she did want this. Brittney pondered that possibility as she waited for what might come next. Did that mean she annoyed Dylan this way too? Did she subconsciously try to force him to punish her? What if she craved the discipline to such an extent that she pushed him with her inappropriate behavior, knowing that the boundaries and punishment would steady her, keep her centered? How had she never seen that possibility before? Maybe she needed the public play with its exhibitionism and humiliation? So far, she hadn’t seen a room or scene that didn’t intrigue her on some level. Sassy didn’t feel she wanted this on a daily level. But maybe visiting the Playpen would become a regular part of their lives?

  The jingle of his belt buckle brought her back to the present, the sound making her breath freeze in her chest for a moment. She hated the strap. It was used as the most severe punishment in her teen years. Her father, a state trooper, was stern and strict. He didn’t tolerate misbehavior, and if she committed a serious offense or disobedience, he didn’t hesitate to match it with a serious punishment. Her best friend, Sunni, was learning that now, firsthand. Sunni had become her father’s “little girl” and Brittney had witnessed — and shared — a punishment with the woman on her last visit to Cade’s home.

  The leather slapped against the loops and pants as Maddox quickly pulled it from his pants. “Your Daddy suggested I use the belt. He said it would be a memorable punishment. Is that so, Sassy?”

  “Yes, S-sir. I hate the belt. Can we use something else?” She bothered that her voice sounded so small, a mortifying pleading note sneaking into her tone.

  “Wow, quite a drastic change in your demeanor, girl.” Maddox rubbed her hip, patting her gently. “Tell me what you are afraid of, Sassy.”

  “I’m scared of how much it hurts. And I’m afraid of crying.”

  “Bad girls get spanked, don’t they?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “And really bad girls get the belt. You were a really bad girl tonight.” He let the leather brush against her backside, goose flesh rising upon her skin, making her shiver. “Your Daddy is right here watching. I’d never abuse you, or truly hurt you. I will make sure your little ass is red, and you’re crying — but I’d never take it too far. You can trust me on this.”

  Sassy knew it to be true. She’d been a student of Dr. Parks for a while, had seen his character shine through. She’d never been a big fan of his — he was a little too rules-oriented and strict for her to enjoy
his company — but she knew he was a man to be trusted. And her Daddy was right there. He’d know when she’d had enough, when it was time to end it.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Time for these to come down.” Maddox’s finger brushed against her hips, slipping her white thong over plump backside, leaving them to rest mid-thigh.

  Oh, God! They can all see my pussy now!

  She knew that the classroom would be focused on the slickness of her exposed labia, as well as her pucker. She clenched her bottom cheeks in embarrassment, moaning quietly, glad that her face was buried against her arms, allowing her to hide from their gazes, if only symbolically.

  “It’s a gorgeous ass, girl. And if I see correctly, it looks like you’re dripping with arousal? Is that so?”

  “Oh, God,” she said, with an even louder groan.

  Sassy jumped in response to a crisp, hard slap to her left buttock. “That’s not an answer. I asked you a question.”

  “Yes, Sir. It’s my... arousal.”

  “Good girl. See? That wasn’t so hard.” His finger tapped her anus. “Do you feel exposed, girl? This little asshole is facing all the good people here today. Does that excite you, knowing that they can see you like this?”

  “Y-yes, Sir.”

  “Daddy Dylan, there’s your answer. It seems you have a girl who loves exhibitionism. I’m thinking some consistent play here — and scheduled punishments — may be just what she needs. You may yet curb this sassy tongue after all.”

  Dylan laughed. “I think you’re right, Doc. The Playpen is going to be a frequent stop for us.”

  Brittney felt so confused. She wasn’t sure if she was excited or upset about the prospect. Having a scheduled punishment there would definitely be a deterrent to misbehaving. It was one thing to cry and stand in a corner at home — that was upsetting enough. But to be exposed with a stripped ass in front of fifty or more strangers was truly daunting.

  “Everyone take note of this beautiful, white ass. It won’t look like this for long.” Maddox lightly slapped the belt upon her bottom. “Do you call people names? Names like ‘douchebag’?”

  “No, Sir.”

  The belt struck against her bottom, rocking her hips forward, her shout of surprise erupting from her throat. The first lash was always the hardest — at least, it always was when Dylan administered it — and she hoped that Maddox was the same. She didn’t even want to think about the possibility that all the strokes would be that harsh. The sting and burn settled in, and she waggled her ass, trying to shake off the pain. Then, remembering that all the people were watching, she stilled, waiting for the rest.

  “When you call people names, what is that called, Sassy?” He slapped the belt against her three times, all to her sit spots.

  Sassy gritted her teeth, groaning loudly. “Disrespect, Sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  Maddox struck her bottom with lash after lash then, with no break in between, the fire consuming her with each successive stroke. The wide, thick leather belt marched up and down both cheeks, leaving a swath of fire in its wake. She forgot about the people or anything else in the room, the pain blotting out awareness of anything else, permeating her thought processes. Her only concern was staying still, wiggling her hips enough to alleviate some of the overwhelming stinging, and fighting the need to leap off the table and run.

  The heavy leather slapping against her flesh filled her ears, her entire consciousness, her voice rising higher and higher as the punishment wore on. What started with quiet ‘ow’s’ and ‘ouches’ quickly became one continuous wail, interspersed with her frantic begging for mercy. It was why she hated the belt so much; she deteriorated from a strong, independent, sassy woman, into a sniveling, dependent, quiet girl who wanted nothing more than to please her Daddy — or, in this case, her professor. In the end though, maybe that was exactly the reason she sought that sort of relationship. She needed and desired the pain, discipline, and punishment — but also wanted the love and affection of a Daddy. She lacked the steadiness that the discipline provided, the assurance that someone was watching out for her, that they cared enough to force her to comply with rules, the dictates of society.

  “Do you think you will call anyone names at the Playpen again, bad girl?” The belt stilled a moment as he waited for her answer.

  It took a couple of seconds to get her voice to work such that she could form words, to focus her thoughts on something besides the pain in her backside. “N-no. I won’t c-call anyone names.”

  “I believe that. I think you’ve learned a lesson and this sore little bottom will be a reminder for a couple of days, I’m thinking. Let’s reinforce this while you’re so repentant.”

  “Nooooo. Oh, nooo!” She whined pathetically, way past the point of caring about her humiliation.

  “Sorry, Sassy. The answer is ‘yes, sir.’ Try again.”

  She pulled in a shivery breath, “Yes, S-sir.”

  “Good girl.” The next few licks of that terrible leather were all to her upper thighs, and she couldn’t prevent herself from lifting each knee in turn, rocking her hips from one side to another as she screeched in pain.

  “That’s a girl. It’s all over. Such a good girl. Your Daddy is here now.”

  Dylan — Daddy.

  She knew instantly when he touched her. She loved and sought his touch. Needed him probably more than he’d ever know. His calm and rational side kept her buoyed. She needed him to guide her, keeping her from exploding — verbally or emotionally. She loved his gentle side, the nurturing and caring Daddy. But she knew, though she’d be hard pressed to admit it, that she needed his stern and harsh side just as much — if not more — most days. That hard, implacable hand of his would never let her deviate too far from the boundaries he had established for her early on in their relationship. Not many would understand their dynamic, but they didn’t have to. It worked for them.

  However, it was at times like this that Brittney — Daddy’s Sassy Girl — worried that he’d soon grow weary of her antics, would feel encumbered with her sassy mouth and disobedient ways. He always assured her that wasn’t so, but it niggled at the back of her mind, wearing down her confidence in the strength of their bond. Could their love endure her damn Irish temperament?

  All of these thoughts crowded her mind, her tears and remorse becoming open weeping. She couldn’t lose him. She’d never find anyone else to meet her needs the way Dylan did.

  “Baby? Sassy? What’s wrong?” Her Daddy kissed her temple, pushing her hair behind her ear.

  “I’m so sorry. Are you mad? Are you going to leave me?” She whispered it so faintly that Dylan had to lean in to hear her.

  “No. Of course not. What you did was very naughty, but I’m not going anywhere. I love you, baby.” He kissed her face gently, wiping the tears off her cheeks. “No more of that. How’s your sorry little butt?”

  She furrowed her eyebrows. “It hurts. A lot.”

  “Well, you deserved every bit of it. Stand up. It’s time to apologize to Daddy Maddox.”

  He helped her to rise onto her hands and knees, guiding her off the desk. Steadying her, his cool hand upon her scorched bottom gave her a gentle push. “Go on and do as you’re told.”

  She shuffled toward Daddy Maddox, his gaze dropping to her pussy as she drew near, enhancing the humiliation of walking half-naked toward him. “I’m sorry, Daddy Maddox, for calling you names. I won’t do it again.”

  “I’m sure you won’t. Your backside is going to be pretty sore, and I have no doubt that you’ll be a very good girl again.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Go back to your Daddy. And behave for the rest of your visit here. Okay?” Maddox winked at her, giving her a very warm smile.

  “Yes, Sir. I will. I promise.”

  Dylan clasped her by the hand. “Time for us to finish your punishment in the Nursery.” Dylan addressed Professor Maddox. “Thank you for letting us use your classroom.”

  “No problem
, Dylan. I’ll see you next door, once I get my room settled over here again.”

  “Wait! What? I thought we were done? I want to be done. I don’t want to go to the Nursery.”

  Chapter 11

  Brittney tried letting go of his hand.

  Like he’d let that happen.

  She even attempted to stop walking, leaning her body back toward to the dreaded classroom. Dylan continued to drag her along though, as if she weighed no more than a child.

  “You don’t tell Daddy what we are, and are not, doing. I said we are going to the Nursery, and the Nursery it is. And no, we are not done. We still have to deal with the fact that you left the area. I didn’t know where you were.”

  “B-but... I thought it... I’ve already been spanked, Daddy.”

  “No arguing, Sassy.”

  They entered the Nursery then, and Dylan addressed Mommy Corinne. The tall, austere woman, with her lips pursed, trying to assess the situation, looked Sassy up and down, obviously taking note of her reddened eyes, tears tracking down her cheeks. “I have a naughty girl here. My little girl, Sassy. She’s been spanked for calling Daddy Maddox names, and now I’d like to administer some discipline to her here if that is okay.”

  “Hi, we haven’t officially met. I’m Corinne — Mommy here to the littles.” She shook Dylan’s hand, then focused her attention once again on his naughty girl. “We know just what to do with naughty girls here in the Nursery. Turn around and let me see how hard Daddy Maddox spanked you.”

  Brittney turned those green eyes up to him, pleading silently with an adorable pout.

  “Sassy,” he said. “Do we need to have two discussions in the Nursery?”

  “No, Daddy.” She reluctantly turned her very red butt toward the Mommy.

  Corinne whistled, making eye contact with him. “Wow. You actually made him angry. We won’t be using anything wooden on you today, girl.” She turned Brittney to face them again. “You use whatever you would like in the Nursery today. If have any questions, or need my assistance, I’ll be right here.”