by Dinah McLeod
“Did the sirens wake you?”
“No, but Sam just sent a text…”
He looked up at her, clearly reading what she wasn’t saying in her panicked face. “Come on. I’ll drive.”
Even though it was hardly a five-minute drive, Georgia spent the entire time leaning forward as though she could make the car go faster by sheer willpower. When they pulled into the driveway, the car hadn’t stopped all the way before she threw her door open and leapt out. She went running, looking for Sam. At first, she didn’t see him, and pure terror set in.
But then, when a fireman moved aside, she saw him leaning against the truck. His hand was bandaged quite a bit up to his arm. She raced toward him, throwing herself at him mere moments after he spotted her.
“Hey.”
She buried her face in him. The tears that had sprung to her eyes the moment she saw him began to break free.
“Hey, what’s this? I’m fine, Georgia. I’m fine.”
“It was my fault,” she moaned into his shirt. “All my fault.”
He gently pried her away from him so that he could look her in the eye. “What are you talking about, darlin’?”
“I… I made dinner for you last night. I forgot to turn off the oven. It’s all my fault.”
“Georgia—”
“I knew it as soon as I got your text,” she moaned. “I can’t believe I was so stupid. I’m so, so sorry, Sam!” She buried herself in him once again, clinging to him as for dear life.
“Shh. It’s OK, honey. I’m all right.”
“It’s not all right,” she objected stubbornly. “I was stupid, I was horrible. You—”
“Hey, none of that now. No one calls my baby-girl names.”
“I was! You should punish me. You should spank me until I can’t sit down for a week. You should—”
“Shh, honey. We have an audience.”
But she didn’t care. She’d done something stupid and she felt so bad that she couldn’t stand it. There was only one way to get rid of that feeling that she knew of. “You have to promise. You have to promise that you’ll give me the hardest, most awful punishment you can think of.”
“It was an accident, Georgia. Just an accident. Why don’t you go back home and rest? We can talk after you’ve had a few more hours’ sleep. After you’ve calmed down.”
“I don’t want to calm down!” She pulled away from him and stamped her foot. “I want you to stop babying me and listen!”
Sam arched his eyebrows. Normally, that would have been enough to get her to cease and desist, but not today.
“I mean it. I am tired of being treated like a kid!”
“Even when you’re acting like one?” he asked, his calm a strong contrast to her evident frustration.
She glowered at him and for a moment, the briefest of moments, she had a vision of pitching herself at him and beating her fists against his chest. She wanted him to take her seriously, damn it. Was that really so much to ask?
But instead, she turned on her heel. She was intending to march away in a fit of anger, but then he said the magic words.
“OK.”
She froze. His voice was low, but she knew she’d heard him.
“Go wait for me in the Punishment Shed. I’ll be there in a little bit.”
* * *
“Didn’t I spy Georgia with you a moment ago?” Gran asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, where she’d go off to?”
“She just needed a few minutes. She’s got it into her head that the fire was her fault.”
“Really? Whatever for?”
“I guess she forgot to turn the stove off.”
“Shoot,” his grandmother laughed. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve done that through the years. It happens. She doesn’t need to blame herself.”
“I know, Gran. I told her that.”
“Well, you just go on and tell her again. Make her believe you.”
“I’m goin’ to do my best. But Georgia can be a bit stubborn.”
“You seem to like the stubborn ones,” she said with a knowing smile. Before he could ask her to elaborate, she’d walked away.
He’d meant what he said. He didn’t blame her—it was something that could have happened to anyone, and all things considered, it had worked out pretty well. They’d have to replace an oven mitt and he’d need to have a bandage on his burn for a day or two, but he’d seen much, much worse in his volunteer firefighting. Really, they had nothing to complain about. But how was he going to get Georgia to see that?
Sam gave her plenty of time to sit and stew, hoping that it might cool off her hot temper. Then he made his way to the shed, trying to think of what he could say to salve her conscience. He’d hoped to find a repentant little girl waiting for him, but he could tell the minute that he opened the door that he had a spitfire lying in wait instead. She hadn’t gone to wait in the corner, as he’d expected. Instead, there was practically a path worn through the concrete where she’d been pacing.
The minute she turned to him, he saw her green eyes were ablaze. Stubborn indeed.
“Come here. Let’s talk this over.”
“I don’t want to talk.” She stuck out her lower lip. “I want—”
“I know what you want, Georgia, but I don’t follow orders. Now, come here.” He sat down on his wooden stool and waited. Her posture was tense—she was standing ramrod straight, with her fists clenched at her sides.
But finally, she exhaled a little and walked toward him. Though only a bit of her frustration seemed to fade, it was something. He patted his knee, but she shook her head. “You know, I’ve had kind of a hectic morning. Let’s not draw this out any further than we have to.”
“Fine. Then tell me where to bend over, and I’ll do it.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. He hadn’t been planning on punishing her at all—he knew she’d made an honest mistake, and if they were talking about the third time, then sure, but this was an offense he was sure she wouldn’t repeat. He’d been hoping that he could just talk her through this and cuddle her close afterward. He suspected they both needed it. But her attitude might merit a punishment after all.
“Georgia, come sit down with me.”
She gave a sharp jerk of her head and began to pace again, clenching and unclenching her fists as she went. “It’s my fault. How don’t you see that?”
“It was an accident, honey. Hell, my gran said she’d done it herself a time or two.”
“Oh, my God.” She turned to him, her green eyes shining with tears. “I… I forgot to ask. How’s Gran?”
“She’s fine, darlin’. Just fine, not a scratch on her. In fact, I suspect she enjoyed having a bit of an adventure.”
“You’re… you’re just saying that.” Her lip trembled.
“No, I’m not. I’m sure when she’s regaling her bridge club with the story next week, the flames will be two stories high.”
“Don’t try to make me smile,” she protested, smiling anyway.
“Babe, if I honestly believed that you deserved a spanking, don’t you think you’d be bare-assed over my lap by now?”
“But…” She let out her breath slowly, looking up at the ceiling. “What if I need a spanking?”
Sam considered this, and her. “All right.”
She looked at him, her expression hopeful. “Really?”
“If it’s the only thing to get you to stop blaming yourself, then yes, I’ll spank you.”
“Thank you.”
“Get the paddle from the wall. The thin, red one.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, but after a moment of hesitation, she went to obey.
Not thanking me now, huh? he thought as he waited for her to return with the requested implement.
When she returned with the paddle in hand she was slightly less sulky than before. She thrust it at him, almost defiantly, and leaned over his workman bench without being told.
OK, he told her sil
ently. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.
“Pants down.”
Looking nervous for the first time since she’d demanded he punish her, Georgia slid down her pajama bottoms.
“I’m going to punish you now, honey. Do you know why?”
“Because of the fire?”
“No. I’m going to punish you because you were trying to brat your way into a spanking,” he said, holding her gaze.
Georgia’s cheeks colored slightly. “I… I just…”
“You just thought you knew better than I did. That’s why I had you get the paddle. If you really needed a spanking that badly, I would have given you one. I know you were scared and I know you felt guilty, even though you were being too hard on yourself. But if you’d just trusted me, I would have given you a spanking, one that would have been just enough to let you cry it all out. Now, instead, you get to be paddled for that sassy mouth of yours, not to mention the attitude.”
Her eyes rounded to circles. “Sam… I’m sorry. I wasn’t… I mean, I didn’t think…”
“No, you didn’t, and that’s the point. Trust is essential in any relationship, and you’ve got to learn to trust me. So if I tell you that something isn’t your fault, it isn’t. You have to trust me. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.” She was looking at the paddle in his hand with more than a little apprehension now and nibbling her lower lip. It looked like the bravado his little girl had been feeling earlier had faded.
“Just like you have to trust me to be fair now.”
“Yes, Daddy.” Her voice quavered at the end and he decided it was best to get this over with. There was no point in making her stew, knowing what was coming. “Eyes forward.”
She was slower to comply this time, her nerves clearly calling the shots. But the moment she’d turned to face the wall, he rested the paddle on her right cheek. She was still wearing her panties, not that it would do much to dull the sting of this hardwood paddle. He rubbed it over her cheek a few times, giving her another moment to think about what she’d brought upon herself. Then, with a careful swing, he brought it down hard on her right buttock.
He heard her gasp but it was soon eclipsed by the loud clap of the paddle. He gave her a few moments before giving an even stroke to the left side.
“Ouch!”
Ouch indeed. He could see by the way she was shaking that she was doing everything in her power to stay right where he had her. She knew there would be stern consequences for interrupting the punishment, even if it was one she herself had asked for.
The third smack was just as hard, but he gave her a longer break because he could see her shoulders were shaking. He wondered if she was crying already. He momentarily thought of having her turn around so that he could wipe the tears off her cheeks, but decided it would be better to get the unpleasantness finished first.
The fourth smack had her sobbing aloud.
“Sam! I can’t! No more, please, no more!” she begged. “I’ll be good, I promise!”
He could see the light pink of her bottom showing through her sheer underwear. “Just two more, honey. Two more, and we’ll be done with your paddling.”
“Ooh, Sam…”
“Two more,” he repeated, his voice firmer. This time, he aimed for her sit spot. He didn’t swing the paddle quite as hard, but he could tell from her yelp that it had hurt much more. It was a tough gig, but somebody had to teach his naughty girl how to behave. Now, maybe she’d remember to trust him… at least she would every time she sat down for the next day or two. The last stroke went to the other thigh and after the loud crack of the paddle echoed throughout the room, he put the implement down.
“I… I am… s-so so-rry,” his girl wailed. He knew that she was speaking about more than the attitude—he knew she was still talking about the fire.
“I know you are, honey. Now, I want you to stay right where you are.”
“S-Sam? Are you s-st-ill mad at me?” She turned her head around to look at him.
He knew why she was confused. Normally, he’d have her in his arms by now, soothing away her tears and holding her until the sobs faded. But her punishment wasn’t quite over yet. Opening the drawer in the workbench a few inches from Georgia’s hip, he pulled out a bottle of lube. Then he pulled down his pants, letting his hard cock spring free. While she watched, he poured a good-sized gob into his hand and lubed up his engorged member.
“Daddy?” she queried, still sounding uncertain.
“You seem to require a bit of a special lesson today,” he informed her as he put the bottle back into the drawer. “So I’m going to remind you who’s in charge. I’m going to remind you that you always put your trust in me and let me lead you.”
“I… I know.”
“Well, to be sure I’m going to punish you with my cock now.”
Georgia’s green eyes widened and as they did so, her perfect, plump lips parted as she gasped. But she didn’t look unhappy. In fact, the blush of color that came to her cheeks next would indicate quite the opposite.
“You are not allowed to come until I say. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” she sighed. “I understand.”
Her tears glittered in the dim lighting and he reached up to caress them off her cheek. “All right then. Eyes forward.”
Once she’d obeyed, he moved behind her, pushing gently on her back until her ass was up in the air. And then, ever so slowly, he put himself between her thighs, doggy-style. He was not gentle with her. From the way he held her—one hand possessively around her waist with the other entangled in her long, brown hair—to the way he thrust inside her, everything he did demanded full cooperation. And she gave it. For all her earlier sass, for all the attitude, his girl loved to be dominated. She loved to be dominated by him. And if that didn’t make a man want to fuck a woman, he didn’t know what did.
Normally, he and Georgia made love. Passionate, sweet love. He didn’t regret a single moment of it, but he also believed there was a time that a woman just needed to be fucked, and for his little, that time had come. He rode her hard and fast, his cock slamming into her again and again. He didn’t whisper apologies or reassurances. He knew what he wanted, and he took it.
Not that she resisted. On the contrary, she moaned and writhed and gasped beneath him as though she quite enjoyed this version of his punishment. So he pumped in harder, faster, held her tighter, but Georgia only molded herself to his every touch.
“I’m going to come now,” he growled in her ear. “I’m going to come and then you’re going to drop to your knees and clean me off. Understood?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she mewled.
He smiled. She seemed to be enjoying this an awful lot. And it happened exactly as he said—he spurted hot cum inside her and as soon as he’d finished and he pulled out, she gave him the shyest, sweetest look he’d ever seen before she dropped to her knees and used her tongue to lick him clean.
When she was finished, he offered her a hand and helped her to her feet. He was once more her loving daddy and he scooped her into his arms and held her close.
“You took your paddling like a very good girl.”
“I didn’t like that part very much,” she admitted.
“I know, baby, but you had it coming.”
“Daddy…”
“Hmm, sweetheart?”
“The other part… the part where you…”
“Punished you with my cock,” he supplied.
“Yes, that. Well, I know I wasn’t supposed to, but…”
“Yes?”
“I… I kind of did enjoy that part.” She looked away bashfully as soon as she’d worked the words out.
“Naughty, naughty,” he tsked, as though he hadn’t already known. “What am I going to do with you, little girl? I suppose I’ll have to paddle you all over again.”
She seemed to sense that he was teasing, because she smiled. “I don’t know.”
“I guess you’ll just have to marry me.
”
Georgia’s eyes flew to his face, wide and sparkling. “What?”
“You heard me: marry me.”
Her mouth opened and closed, moving without quite working. It was rare, but it seemed that he’d struck her speechless.
“Not today, obviously, or soon. You’ll want to finish your Master’s, but after that, say you’ll marry me.”
“Sam… did they give you drugs for your arm?”
He chuckled at her. “They gave me a little something for the pain, but it has nothing to do with that I’m saying right now. Want me to prove it to you? I’ll go talk to your father right now.”
Her arms wrapped around his neck and she squeezed him, hard. “No. I mean, yes. Yes, of course I’ll marry you, just… talk to him later. For now, just hold me a little longer.”
He bent his head and kissed her lips, telling himself that if he got to kiss one set of lips for the rest of his life, he would be so glad if they were hers. “Okay. Later. And just think, Gran’ll be so thrilled, she won’t even care about having to buy a new oven mitt.”
Georgia laughed at him and Sam couldn’t help but think that there was no better sound in the world than his sweet girl laughing while he held her in his arms.
Epilogue
Fifteen years later
Georgia reached over and cranked up the radio, humming along and tapping her foot to the beat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sam reaching for the dial to turn it back down—predictable, even after all this time. But she didn’t mind.
“Fuddy-duddy,” she accused.
He arched his brows at her. “Excuse me, what was that, young lady?”
“I’m just saying. A little music never killed anyone.”
“Au contraire, I hear many eardrums have lost their lives to this…” He made a face at her again. “What is this?”
“Rap-country fusion.”
“See, I had enough trouble with that when they started doing that with food. They should leave music alone.”