Page 14 of The More the Merrier

Every time I gave Noelle a command or admonished her in any way, I could feel Logan watching me, ready to step in if I wasn't able to step up, silently encouraging me as I took charge.

Given yesterday, I understood why he was treating me with kid gloves, but even though nothing had been resolved I felt way better after our talk last night. I'd slept better than I had in weeks, and even slept in, something that rarely ever happened. I had no idea what to do about my job, or my family, or the box I'd created and stuffed myself into, but one thing never wavered. Logan and Noelle were my rocks, and they deserved the best of me. Noelle needed both of her Daddies, and I needed the confidence boost that came with doing something I was certain about. Disciplining Noelle was something Logan and I split evenly, and something he was more than capable of taking the lead on, but that wasn't what any of us had signed up for.

And whether she realized it or not, whether it was intentional or not, since I'd been feeling off, Noelle had been acting out. Our little girl may have a mischievous streak a mile long, but she didn't lie to us. She'd learned that lesson the hard way a long time ago.

When she got in position, with her body balanced across both of our laps, she thrust the hairbrush at us over her head. Logan was closest so he took it, looked at it for a second, and handed it to me.

"You do the honors," he said with a wink.

Noelle squirmed over our laps. "Mmm mmm," she whined softly.

"None of that, now," I scolded softly. "You've earned yourself a long, hard bare-bottom spanking and you're going to take it like a good girl."

"Yes, Daddy." Her reply was so quiet it was almost inaudible.

My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten yet or had a drop of coffee, and I resolved to get this show on the road. We all knew why we were here and what had to be done. Nothing more needed to be said.

Lifting the hairbrush, I brought it down hard against her left ass cheek, and then swiftly across the right, too, before she could react, skipping the warm up.

In our early days skipping a warm up was unheard of, and would have earned me a loud protest from Noelle and a warning glare from Logan. These days Noelle was such a seasoned spankee that it didn't matter.

She cried out and tried to buck off my lap, but Logan held her firmly in place. I spanked with gusto, watching her skin redden and bounce under each hard smack of the hairbrush, enjoying every squeal of pain falling from her perfect lips. I got into a rhythm and forgot what I was doing until Logan grabbed my hand, stilling it, and took the brush away.

"We said ten each," he reminded me gently. "It's my turn."

"Oh right," I answered with a sheepish grin. Using my hands to pin her in place, I held her for Logan just as he had done for me.

"One." Unlike me, Logan counted each swat as it fell. Her bottom was a bright pink now, covered in light circles from the places she'd been spanked. "Two."

Noelle whined softly and buried her face in her folded arms.

"Three." Watching Logan spank our girl was almost as fun as doing it myself. "Four."

"Five, six, seven, eight."

The next four came hard and fast without warning, alternating cheeks. Noelle wasn't crying, but she was mewling with pain after each count. She hated the hairbrush. I didn't blame her. I wasn't a fan either, at least not when it was being used on me.

For the last two, Logan didn't hold back, and it took a good bit of my strength to keep Noelle from flying off our laps as the brush came down hard against each of her sit spots.

"Owwwieee!" she cried, throwing her hand back to cover herself. "I’m sorry. I’m done. All done."

I moved her hand out of the way and rubbed her inflamed skin myself, something Logan never did. As no stranger to the hairbrush myself, I had a bit more sympathy for the pain she was in and how dreadful that implement really was.

But only a bit. "You're done with the hairbrush," I reminded her. "You're still getting the belt for lying."

Her loud cry of regret echoed through the room as her shoulders began to shake. I thought she would beg and plead and try anything to get out of the second part of the punishment, but all she did was apologize through her tears.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I shouldn't have lied. It was only a little lie, but I know better. I'm sorry to make you start your day by punishing me. So, so sorry," she cried.

My heart broke and I looked to Logan for support, nearly ready to call the whole thing off.

He must have read my mind because he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Stay strong," he mouthed. "Follow through."

Ah yes. The ever-important follow-through factor. In a relationship like ours, consistency was key. And grace, especially when it was given after a sentence had been already handed down, did not often have the desired effect.

Intellectually, as her Daddy, I knew this, but as a bottom myself, sometimes my sympathy got the better of me and Logan had to keep me from veering off course.

Meeting his eyes, I nodded, and put my hand out for the belt. He grabbed it, but held onto it, shaking his head.

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