Page 32 of Daddy Defender
I don’t know what possesses me, but I turn the outdoor shower on full blast and stand underneath it fully clothed, and pretend to surf.
“Bodie!” Henry roars. “You don’t have a change of clothes!”
“Who cares! You said no ocean, you didn’t say I couldn’t land surf!” I laugh, bending my knees and pretending that I’m riding a super-gnarly tube as the outdoor shower water soaks through my clothes. “Screw you, square! This is how surfer boys do it!”
“This is ridiculous,” Henry seethes, his jaw clenching as he stands and watches me taunt him. “What if we have to leave in a hurry and you don’t have any dry clothes to hand?”
“What if, what if, what if… what if you’re a big bossy dork?” I laugh, all of my frustration spilling out as I continue to ride my imaginary wave.
“Enough is enough,” Henry says, and I can see from the way he is striding over toward me that he’s not kidding around.
But I hold my ground, continuing to act out my fantasy surf—that is, until Henry takes my hand, spins me around and pulls my jeans down…
“We’ll keep these briefs on just to remind you how silly it was to get yourself all wet like this,” Henry growls, his voice low and full of serious intent. “But we’ll hike them all the way up between your cheeks to make sure that you feel the full force of the spanking.”
“Daddy, please!” I say, my cheeks bright red as I realize I just called Henry Daddy. “I was just being silly!”
“That’s right, you were,” Henry says, spreading my legs and fixing me in position. “Silly, rude, irresponsible. All of which means that I need to take my hand to you.”
I arch my head around and watch as Henry removes his t-shirt and flings it to the ground, far enough away from the shower to avoid it getting wet. Not only that, but Henry removes his trousers too so that he’s standing next to me in nothing but a pair of blank boxer-briefs that make his legs look nothing short of… magnificent.
“Face forward!” Henry snaps, landing an opening spank on my exposed left cheek. “This time youwillthank me for each spank.”
“Never!” I shout. “Never! Never! Never!”
“Never is a long time,” Henry says, a hint of wicked menace in his voice. “The road to ten spanks won’t begin until you start the count.”
Henry lands another spank on my wet, wobbly ass cheeks and I do my best to not cry out in pain. I know I need to start counting—and I need to start soon. But there’s something inside me that doesn’t want to give Henry the satisfaction. I’ve already called him Daddy, I don’t want him to think that this is it, that he can control me from here on out.
“And another!” Henry bellows, landing a double spank on my right cheek.
“Thank you, Daddy!” I call out, involuntarily. “Thank you!”
And just like that, my defenses crumble. Part of me hates myself for giving in and being the obedient Little to Henry… but I can’t deny that an even bigger part of me is loving every second of it.
“Now let’s get this spanking done properly,” Henry says, placing his fingers inside the waist of my briefs and hiking them up even further to ensure that my entire butt cheeks are exposed to the water and his big, powerful hand.
I cast a quick look back at Henry and the sight of his semi-naked body, wet, strong, muscular is enough to make me gasp—but not as much as the spanks that are landing down on my hot ass…
“Thank you, Daddy!” I call out again, my cock throbbing, and my mind totally locked into the spanking that this stern, impossibly handsome man is delivering…
My butt’s on fire, my cheeks flaming with shame and arousal, as I stand by the side of the shower, the last of the water dripping off me as I towel myself dry.
Henry’s wiping his hands on his jeans, his eyes softer now, like he’s wrestling with himself. I reach into my backpack and clutch Poot, my briefs removed from the depth of my ass cheeks and my jeans back up… but my pride in pieces.
With some cooling gel fighting to calm my red-hot butt cheeks and my mind equally fighting a battle of its own, I’m beyond confused. The fact that I called Henry Daddy is only adding to the million thoughts that are spinning and whirring in my brain.
I simply don’t know what to do.
Do I want to bolt, to yell, to fall to my hands and knees and crawl to Henry? Any and all of these options seem just as likely to me right now.
“Bodie,” Henry says, low and steady, stepping closer, still shirtless. “Your defiance drives me nuts. You push every damn button, and it makes keeping you safe harder. But you know what? Your fire, wanting to surf, to live your life despite all this? That’s brave as hell. And I’m drawn to it, way more than I should be.”
Henry’s eyes lock onto mine, raw and real, no smirk, and my breath catches. He’s not just a Daddy dishing out spankings—heseesme, and it’s scary as hell.
I swallow, my heart pounding.
“Drawn to me?” I mumble, my voice small, like I’m five instead of twenty-three. “You don’t even know me, Henry.”
