He clears his throat. “Look me in the eye and tell me this is still what you want.”
I meet his gaze without hesitation. “I want to be your Little more than anything in the world, Daddy.”
“Will you do whatever I say is necessary to get back on track?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“No hesitation. No more of this defiance. I’m going to be very strict and unrelenting.”
I nod. “Yes, Sir.” A part of me is relieved. I can feel my shoulders lowering. I’ve gotten lazy and complacent. I know I can do better with the right guidance. I know Daddy can provide it.
“Come here, Little one.” He holds out a hand.
I go to him, rounding to one side as he guides me that direction. He takes my chin in his fingers and holds my head steady, inches from his. “I’m going to spank you now. It’s going to hurt. Afterward, you’re going to stand in the corner in the kitchen until I tell you to move.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Tomorrow, things are going to change. I suspect you’re not going to like it very much at first, but you’ll do as you’re told because you know in your heart Daddy knows what’s best for you.”
“Yes, Sir.” I try to keep my voice from wobbling, but I have to admit I’m nervous. He’s speaking as if he’s prepared this speech and whatever is going to happen tomorrow for a while. He didn’t come up with it on the spot.
He slides a hand up my back and helps me lean over his lap.
I clasp my hands behind my back, knowing he will hold my wrists together before he spanks me. I don’t squirm or fight him. I’ve been to this rodeo before, more often than I should lately.
I try to relax as he begins swatting my bottom. It’s not too difficult at first. It never is. But then he picks up the intensity, and I grit my teeth as my skin begins to burn. I know it will be red for several hours. My skin is very pale, so it doesn’t take much to pinken it.
When he’s done, he rubs my sore bottom for a few minutes before standing me on my feet. He steadies me with his handson my hips and kisses my forehead. “Good girl. Go stand in the corner in the kitchen. You know the drill.”
“Yes, Sir.” I pad away from him and make my way to the same corner I’ve been using for timeouts for two years. Like spankings, I’ve done this more often than usual lately too. I lean my forehead against the drywall, clasp my hands behind my back, and spread my feet.
My bottom is on fire. And that’s the point. I must stop misbehaving. Apparently whatever Daddy has in mind for tomorrow is going to change things for me in a big way.
I shudder as my mind considers the possibilities.
Chapter Two
I’m half asleep when Daddy sits down on the edge of my bed the next morning. It’s barely light out, and it’s a Saturday. I’m confused. “Daddy?”
He pats my hip. “Time to get up, sleepyhead. I set clothes out for you on the bathroom counter. Get dressed and brush your teeth. We’re leaving in an hour.” He rises, leans down to kiss my forehead, and walks out of my room.
I stare after him, still half asleep. Confused. Where are we going and why so early?
Concerned I might fall back asleep if I don’t do as I’m told right now, I force myself to get out of bed and shuffle toward the bathroom. It takes me a few minutes to convince my body to cooperate and go through my morning routine.
I’ve never been a very good morning person. In the last few years, I’ve even managed to make sure none of my classes started before ten. Sometimes I even pulled off noon as my first class. I’m much more alert late at night. The number of study sessions I’ve had in the past few years that ended in the wee hours of the morning are not countable.
The outfit Daddy has selected makes me furrow my brow. He’s left me a dress. I don’t wear dresses very often. Not latelyanyway. I’m usually at home, presumably working on my thesis. My preferred clothing of choice is all about comfort. Leggings. Tank tops. T-shirts. Not much else.
I step into my panties first and then grab the dress. It’s on the younger end of the age play spectrum. Baby blue with tiny yellow ducks scattered on it in random patterns. It’s comfortable and cotton, but it’s short and hugs my chest tightly. I’ve never seen it before.
I look at myself in the mirror, brush out my blond waves, and secure my hair at the back of my neck. I wonder what the heck we’re doing today and where we might be going? Maybe a play date with other Littles?
When I enter the kitchen, Daddy has breakfast on the table. It’s been a while since he’s cooked for me. Usually he’s already at work before I get up, so I pour myself cereal and watch cartoons while I eat.
The television is not on today, and there’s no chance I’m going to ask him to turn it on. I’m feeling contrite as I slide onto my seat and force myself to take a bite of the scrambled eggs.
I don’t eat this early either of course. Swallowing is hard this morning, but I force myself to try. Daddy doesn’t like it when I waste food.
