Page 110 of Punish Me, Daddy

Another strike—hard and sharp, across the tops of my thighs.

I sobbed this time. A real sob. Loud and messy and helpless, the kind that cracked open something deeper inside me. I tried to lift myself off the bed, tried to shift away from the next blow, but his hand pressed between my shoulders again and pinned me there.

“You’re going to take what Daddy gives you, bad girl,” he growled.

I sobbed harder, tears spilling across my cheeks, hot and wet and humiliating. My body was shaking, wrung out and throbbing, my thighs damp with arousal and shame and need I didn’t know how to hold anymore.

“I’m sorry,” I cried again, my voice hoarse. “Daddy, please—please, I’m sorry?—”

“Are you?” His voice was still low, still terrifyingly calm. “Or are you just sorry you’re being punished?”

Another lash. This one softer, but no less painful on my punished ass. My hips jerked. My throat seized.

“I wanted to be good,” I whimpered. “I tried?—”

“No,” he cut in sternly. “You didn’t. You wanted to beclever.You wanted to defy me. And now look at you. Ass bare and welted from Daddy’s belt.”

His hand slid into my hair, tangled there, pulled just enough to tilt my head back so he could look at my face. I blinked up at him through tears, chest heaving, mouth open.

“Daddy likes it when you cry, bad girl. It makes his cockveryhard,” he murmured and then his tongue darted out and tasted my tears.

I could barely breathe.

Every inch of me was pulsing. My ass was blazing. My legs were trembling so badly I didn’t know how I was still standing, but I didn’t ask him to stop. I didn’t beg for it to be over. Deep down, beneath all of it—beneath the cries and the pain and the trembling—Iwantedthis.

Ineededto be punished.

And he knew it.

There was a long pause, another strike, and then another and then another and then—I broke.

I sagged over the bed, sobbing, every inch of my body trembling and raw. My fingers grasped at the sheets like I needed them to protect me, to remember where I was, who I was. The fire across my ass throbbed with each breath, the pain sinking deep into my bones, into my skin, intome.

His hand came down, not in punishment this time, but in comfort. Warm and steady, stroking gently over my spine. His palm dragged softly up the arch of my back, then down again,over and over, until my sobs started to quiet, each breath more of a shiver than a cry.

He leaned over me, close enough that I felt his breath against the shell of my ear.

“You took that so well,” he murmured. “Daddy’s proud of you.”

I whimpered.

He gathered me up slowly, gently, lifting me from the bed like I weighed nothing. My thighs trembled and I hissed as he eased me into his lap, his arms wrapping around me tightly, protective, an anchor for me to cling to.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “Daddy’s got you now.”

I buried my face against his shoulder, tears still leaking from my eyes, but they were different now, I realized, full of sorrow for my disobedience. My body started to soften in his hold, the ache in my ass grounding me, warming me.

The longer I stayed in his lap, the more I realized what was building again inside me.

That slow, familiar feeling.

That deep, liquid heat in my core.

My ass still stung, and yet… my clit was throbbing. My body was waking up again, but this time in a gentler way, more open. I could feel the slickness between my thighs, feel the way my hips shifted subtly, chasing the friction of his thigh beneath my burning skin.

He noticed.

Of course he did.

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