“Say it.”
My brain is too muddled with fear and grief and agony to properly process the command. “What?”
“Say it. Say ‘I’m ready to be your good girl, Daddy’.”
Bastard.But whatever self-preservation instincts I still have must be kicking in because I manage to hold myself back. “Please don’t make me,” I whisper instead, humiliated beyond reason by the pitiful sound of my voice.
The hand on my ass tightens, flooding my body with more agony than I can bear and another sob rises up in my chest. “Say it, or it will be Daddy’s belt across your bottom next.”
Oh, god. I may not fully remember how badly his belt stings, but I remember enough to be absolutely certain I don’t want him to whip me on top of the paddling I just got.
Which leaves me with only one horrific choice.
“I-I’m ready to be your good girl.”
“Josephine.”
My name is a warning growl, and it’s all I can do not to whimper in response. “I’m trying!”
“Not hard enough.”
God, when did he become such a hardass? The Benny I knew was sweet and poetic and kind. Nothing like the rough, demanding man currently pinning me over his lap.
And then it hits me. He really isn’t my Benny anymore. He may look like him, sound like him, even share his DNA. But the version of him I knew is long dead. Gone.
Now there’s only… Daddy.
Surprisingly, thinking of it that way helps unstick the words from my throat.
“I’m ready to be your good girl… Daddy.”
Bram
Daddy.
God, that word is music to my ears. Even more so because it’s my Josie saying it. The woman I thought I’d lost forever when we fled our home all those years ago.
Gently, far more gently than I’ve treated her so far, I lift her up to cradle her on my lap. And just like when we were younger, she curls into me, sniffling and whimpering as she shifts to find a comfortable position for her aching ass.
“My sweet little bug,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I promise it won’t always be this way. You’ll get used to being my babygirl again, and I won’t have to punish you as often.”
There is no doubt in my mind that I will have to punish her on a regular basis, if she’s anything like she was when we were younger. Back then she was a spitfire, always pushing the limits to see what she could get away with. And she thought nothing of putting herself in harm’s way, which was bad enough back in New York.
Out here, it’s exponentially more dangerous for her not to follow the rules, so for a time I will need to be even stricter thanusual. But that knowledge won’t ease her mind at all, so I keep it to myself for the time being.
For now, I focus on comforting her as she cries and whimpers in my arms. Rocking her gently, telling her what a good girl she is, how proud I am of her for taking her punishment so well.
At that last comment, she lifts her head, her green-gold eyes shimmering with tears and hope. “You’re proud of me?”
“So proud, bug. I know this is all a lot to take in, especially for a Little girl. But you took your spanking well and now you’re being such a good little baby for me.”
Her nose wrinkles. “I’m not a baby.”
“Oh, but you are, Josie-Posie. You’remybaby.”
“But I’m not,” she whines, and I can’t help but chuckle at the irony of her insisting she isn’t a baby while sounding so very Little.
A flash of white catches my eye and I glance over to see Gray holding up the items she brought down for our ceremony. Locking gazes with my sweet little bug once more, I let a smile curve my lips.
