Page 129 of Double Daddies
Either he doesn’t remember, or he doesn’t feel sorry for me after hearing my list of offenses.
“Any bleeding? Cramps? Pelvic pain?” my brother asks.
Ben glances at me, and reluctantly, I shake my head. “Nope, we’re good there.”
“How’s her blood pressure?”
“Good,” Ryle replies.
“Okay, then I’d say just monitor her after, and everything should be fine.”
“Thanks, Kingslay. And hey, you should probably stop celebrating—the game was a week ago, and you didn’t play in it,” Ben states with a grin.
Kingslay’s booming laugh fills the room so that even my lips twitch. “Bye, bro, bye Ryle.”
Once he hangs up, I know it’s time to face the music.
Ben
“Come here, Cami.”
She’s been standing close this entire time, but this is the signal I know she’s been dreading. It means her reckoning has come. She takes the teeniest, tiniest baby steps she can manage, but I don’t say anything.
“Did you hear everything he said?”
With teary eyes, she nods.
“And you know what that means?”
“It means you’re going to spank me,” she whispers.
I nod, and without another word I move my chair to face Ryle’s. Then when I sit, our knees are touching. It makes an altar of sorts.
Cami cringes. “What… you want me to…”
“Yep.” I pat my knee meaningfully. When we incorporated domestic discipline into our relationship, it was about Cami feeling safe and protected. I’m sure neither one of us could have imagined this moment.
Slowly, she bends over until her belly is pressing into my knees. I look at Ryle to make sure he feels secure on his end, and when he nods, I reach for her shorts. I pull them down with the same excruciating pace she used getting over our laps. It’s good for her to wait, to think about what comes next, to dread the sting she knows is coming.
“I want you to think about this next time you’re tempted to lie,” I tell her.
“I will. I promise I’ll never do it again!” She cranes her neck and looks back, eyes pleading. “If you don’t spank me, I promise I’ll be so good. I’ll eat my protein, and drink more water, and I won’t complain one bit!”
“You’ll be a good girl either way,” Ryle answers. “Because those things are to keep you safe and are non-negotiable.” He reaches for the band of her panties and whisks them down.
I see the goose pimples as they pop up on Cami’s bottom. I begin to rub her right cheek to get it warmed up.
Ryle begins to massage the left.
When I lift my hand, out of the corner of my eye I see him doing the same. From the very first swat, she becomes a puddle of “please, don’t!” and “I’m sorry, Daddies”. But I’m not ready to let her up after a single swat, and it looks like Ryle has the same idea. I settle in to give Cami the spanking she has coming. As much as I don’t want to hurt her, I need her to remember what happens to Little girls who lie to their Daddies.
We get into a rhythm rather quickly and synchronize our spanking. Our hands bounce off and back down on her cheeks that are rapidly changing color. The pale olive of her ass is becoming tinged with pink, and as the flurry of spanks continues, that pink darkens.
“Please! I’m sorry! I’m so-or-ry!” Cami hollers.
I force myself to ignore the tearful pleading in her voice and focus on bringing justice to her very naughty behind. I shut my ears to her pleas for mercy and her promises of better behavior. All I feel is my hand landing crisply on her bottom which quivers under the impact.
After a couple minutes of continuous spanking, the pleas stop, the promises dry out, and she gives herself over to the pain. Her shoulders begin to shake. My hand swats the curve of her cheek where bottom and thigh meet, and she lets out a wail. The dark pink in her bottom begins to give way to red, and I hear the engine of her sobs roar to life.
