Page 14 of Sadie's Little Christmas

For someone who wasn’t a little girl, she certainly had the right pitch in her voice.

“I know it hurts, but it’s Daddy’s job to make sure his little girl gets what she needs, even when it doesn’t feel very nice. And this doesn’t feel nice, does it?”

Raising the paddle, he set a hard, swift rhythm—no warmup, no variance in how hard or where he struck—spanking the same damn spot over and over again. As wide as his open hand and long enough to cover both her bottom cheeks at once, he broke her of the notion spankings couldn’t hurt her.

Sadie shrieked, bucked, threw back her head as she fought to break away, then just sobbed.

He’d be lying if he said the sadist in him didn’t exalt at the beauty of watching her bouncing bottom change, stroke after stroke, from milky white to a deep, rich red hue. The Daddy in him got no pleasure from it.

He dropped the paddle on his desk when he was done, and although his hand ached to caress and soothe until the hurt began to fade, she wasn’t his, they hadn’t negotiated that right, and he wasn’t about to abuse her trust. He let her go, his jaw clenching as he watched her scramble backward off his lap.

Seizing her bottom in frantic hands, she danced for him, just like any other wayward Little he’d ever had to spank to tears. Bouncing, stamping, she jiggled up and down, either not knowing or not caring that her pants and panties were still in a tangle around her ankles, she was providing him with quite the view.

“Well,” he asked once the fierceness of her mindless dance at last began to diminish. “Did you enjoy it?”

Opening her eyes, sniffling and hiccupping, Sadie stared at him through her lingering tears. Resist it though she did, all he could see as he looked at her was a sad, freshly spanked little girl in desperate need of comfort, and his arms ached to hold her.

He clenched his jaw again, unsurprised when she suddenly whirled away from him. What did surprise him was how she grabbed the contract, bending low over the desk, and slapping the tears from out of her eyes as she hurriedly signed every line on every page.

She agreed to be his submissive, at least for the foreseeable future.

She agreed to every consequence from spanking to anal, even to mouth soaping.

She even signed the line giving consent for sexual activities, although he wasn’t sure he could trust that. He would need to tread those waters very carefully.

Throwing down the pen, she hurled herself onto his lap, and he barely got his arms open in time to catch her. She clung to him, the heat of her naked bottom burning through his jeans and into his thigh as she drew her knees up to her chest, making herself as small in his lap as her already small body could be. He held as much of her as he could, as tightly as she needed.

“You see?” he murmured into her hair, unable to stop himself from kissing the top of her head. “You’re not broken after all. Daddy can make your spankings hurt as often as you need them to.”

Sniffling, she buried her face against his chest and didn’t say a word—she didn’t have to. He was well aware the hurting part was only half of what she feared. The other half was what might happen the next time it felt good, but that was all right. He already knew, before he tucked her into her bed tonight and bid her sweet dreams, he was going to lay every last one of those fears to rest.

He would leave no inch of her untouched—or unloved—and he would do it without taking advantage of her trust or her body, at least until he was sure she knew exactly what she’d signed over to him.

No matter what, he was going to keep his pants zipped tonight—Derek kissed the top of her head again—even if it killed him.

Chapter 4

“I hate it,”Sadie said, staring at her reflection in the mirror of the dressing room of Rawhide Ranch’s clothing store. It wasn’t a big store. From what she could see, the clothing options were… eclectic.

“I think you look adorable,” Derek said, brushing her hair into a perfect part for twin pigtail braids.

“Yeah, but you’re weird.” As he snort-laughed, her fingers fiddled with the hem of her plaid Rawhide Ranch ‘school’ uniform skirt. She’d spent her entire life rushing to grow up so she could get out of school, only to end up right back in it. “I look like I’m twelve.”

He stifled a sigh. “You do not.”

“I do, too.” She frowned at her reflection, not sure she liked any part of it. He’d even made her take her makeup off. She’d been wearing makeup since she was fourteen. She felt naked without it, and her ‘babyface’ features were definitely showing. No, she definitely wasn’t sure about this at all. “The more you do to me, the younger I look.”

A corner of his mouth quirked, but he didn’t bother replying.

Well, fine. If he didn’t care, she wasn’t going to either. She folded her arms across her chest, openly glaring now.

“Go ahead, keep braiding. Just don’t come crying to me when all of a sudden I turn into a sperm-nibbled egg cell right here in front of you. I mean, can’t we grow this up a bit?” She plucked at the hem of her skirt, trying to see what it would look like, drawn up like a miniskirt.

Derek swatted her, and it was at once both delicious and a tad too ouchie.

She caught her breath, both hands flying back in belated defense of her once more throbbing bottom. She frowned at him. It had only just stopped hurting. Still, without a word, he finished braiding her hair.

“There.” Stepping back, he eyed his handiwork while she rubbed the sting he’d reignited and tried hard not to let the heat blossoming low in her belly rise all the way up to stain her face. Especially if he might notice it. “Like I said, you’re adorable.”

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