“I know, little one,” he said. “Your kisses thrill me as well.”
Mari’s heart nearly burst with happiness. Her kisses thrilled her Papa.
“Now,” he said, turning serious, “let us get on with your punishment so that we can put that aside and enjoy the rest of our wedding day.”
“Papa?” She tilted her head to the side.
He tapped his finger to the tip of her nose. “You are utterly charming and adorable and I cannot wait to make you mine, completely.” His eyes darkened with desire and Mari felt a coil tighten in her tummy. “However, I would be a poor excuse for a Papa if I allowed you to get away with bad behavior.”
Mari’s shoulders slumped. “I know, Papa. I am sorry.”
“Hush now. No more apologies. I have already forgiven you. Now there is only the matter of your spanking. Come along.”
He took her hand and led her to a straight-backed chair which he sat upon and then drew her gently over his lap.
Oh heavens. His body is so hard. Everywhere.
Her skirts rustled as he adjusted her across his thighs and Mari’s tummy fluttered again.
He pushed her skirts up and through the flimsy fabric of her chemise she could feel a rush of air.
“Papa?” she asked.
“This is punishment. We are man and wife. In future, you will receive all spankings on your bare bottom. As this is your first, and we have not yet consummated our marriage, I will allow youto have your chemise over your bottom. But this will be the first, last and only time that is permitted. Do you understand?”
She swallowed heavily. Spankings on her bare bottom. “Y-yes, Papa.”
“Good girl,” he said, resting his palm over the center of her backside.
Mari jolted at the contact. No one had ever touched her in such a private place. Papa kept his hand on her bottom for a few seconds and then he started to rub little circles all over her rear end. Perhaps he did not mean to spank her after all, Mari thought, and her shoulders began to relax.
Then Papa’s hand lifted and came down in the center of her backside with a resounding smack.
“Oh!” she gasped.
“A spanking is meant to get your attention, little Mari.”
“It has, Papa,” she replied.
“It is unacceptable to stomp your foot at Papa or anyone else for that matter. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Papa. I do.”
His hand came down on her backside again. She grabbed hold of his pant leg to steady herself.
“It is disrespectful,” he said, and though his tone was firm, there was no anger in it. “Respect is the root of trust. Without it, we cannot have the marriage we both wish for.”
She clenched her hands on his pant leg tighter. “Yes, Papa,” she whispered.
“What concerns me even more, though, my little bride, is the fact that you felt overwhelmed and needed help but you did not ask me to help you. To take care of you.”
Mari turned her head and looked up at him. “I-I have never asked for help before. Or not for a very long time. It-it never occurred to me to do so.”
Papa’s gaze softened and he smoothed the hair around her ear. “I am sorry that you have never had anyone to take care of you. But I am here now. Your Papa and your husband. Always come to me when you feel overwhelmed or frightened or anxious. I will carry those burdens for you.”
Mari stared, trying to comprehend what he had said. “You want to help me? Why? Should I not be able to do things for myself? I would never want to be a burden.”
His hand continued to stroke over her hair and a couple of tendrils came loose from her wedding day hairstyle. “You could never be a burden. I know this is all new to you, but it is important that you come to me when you are worried and I will help you. Promise?”
