Page 12 of Daddy's Rule

Nyla had the most beautiful pale brown skin and dark spiral curls that fell in layers at her shoulders. Her hips were full and her ass perfectly shaped. Each cheek was just a little more than a handful, and I couldn't wait to knead the skin of her buttocks between my fingers.

I ran my fingertip against the hem of her satin panties and smiled when she shivered.

"Bas," she whispered. "It really has been a long time. Could you… could you give me a warmup with just your hand?"

"Are you telling me how to do my job, little girl?" I had already deduced that she wasn't the same high-tolerance, iron-ass Nyla I was used to and planned a warm-up, but I didn't like being told what to do. "Nyla!" I smacked her ass just below the panty line, where her bottom met her thighs. "Are you topping from the bottom, little girl?"

"Um… no, Bastian, I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

"Damn straight you won't, unless you want to feel my belt on your ass. And it's Daddy to you. No more of this Bastian shit. Say it. Say yes, Daddy."

"Yes… D-Daddy."

Her shoulders rose and fell as she sighed, and I felt a squeeze of sympathy. I knew this was hard for her. It was also important, so I squared my shoulders and reacted the way I knew was best.

"Good girl. We're adding that to the rules. You will always address me using Daddy or Sir. You do not get to use my name."

It felt unusually cruel to say that since we were such good friends, but that was why it was so important. Titles would help us stay rooted in our roles.

"Yes, Daddy," she agreed again, the words rolling off her tongue more easily the second time, letting me know I was doing the right thing.

"I'm going to start now, Nyla. I'm going to spank you for last night, for losing control and not drinking responsibly and drinking far too much. It's going to hurt. If at any time something is wrong, yell red and we will stop and re-evaluate. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Bas—I mean, Daddy."

With agreement given there was nothing left to do but start, so that's what I did.

Nyla

Nearly five years. That was how long it had been since I had been spanked or indulged in any sort of play, and I felt every second of those five years the first time Bas swatted me. It was over my panties and with his hand only, but it was hard. It hurt more than I remembered, and my body instantly went into fight or flight response as I attempted to jolt off his lap.

I expected him to get mad and scold me, or even just spank harder, but he only laughed and pulled me back into position.

"Hurt more than you remembered, babygirl? You have some bondage tape in your bag of tricks. Do I need to get it out and tie you up, or are you going to be a good girl and take the spanking you asked for?"

"Mmm mmm," I murmured, biting down on my wrist to comfort myself and take my mind off the pain I knew was coming. "I'll be good. It just hurts!"

"It's a spanking. It's supposed to hurt. Let's try this again, now, shall we?"

I braced myself, gritting my teeth and tensing my shoulders, reminding myself that I had asked for this.

I hoped he'd take it a bit easier this time, but when the second swat fell it was just as hard, if not harder. I buried my face in my hands and shrieked. He didn’t pause, just kept spanking. First on one cheek and then the other. They were rapid but measured, each one deliberately delivered. I tried to stay still, telling myself it would get better or hurt less once I got used to it, but it felt like a lie.

But it finally did get better. My ass went numb or the adrenaline coursing through my body dulled the pain, and just when I started to feel the tiniest bit of relief, his hands were at the waistband of my panties, peeling them down, and I was filled with shame as he exposed my bottom one inch at a time.

"It's time for your spanking now, Nyla. The warm-up is over," he said, resting the fabric of my panties just below the curve of my ass.

I could only whimper, wondering what I had been thinking, agreeing to this, asking him to spank me, and what exactly I had gotten myself into.

Bas wasted no time. Once the panties were down, I felt him shift to pick up the leather strap he had been taunting me with earlier, and I questioned all my life choices.

I used to love a leather strap, crave it even, and I remembered it fondly. But with one flick of his wrist Bas changed all that. Pain exploded across my already tender backside and I swore I could feel the welt rising. The breath I had been holding rushed from my lungs in an anguished cry. And before I could catch my breath or recover from the blow, the thick strap of leather lashed my skin again, this time hitting just below where it had previously fallen. It only took four smacks to completely cover every inch of spankable skin between the top center of my ass below my tailbone and the very tops of my thighs. My skin screamed, and I bit my arm to keep myself from doing the same. And still he spanked, creating a layer of lashes on my torched skin. I was seriously contemplating using my safe word when the lecturing began.

"You had a bad day, a bad two days, maybe even a bad week or month, but it's no excuse to drink until you black out. I had to walk you back to your apartment and stay overnight because I was afraid you'd vomit in your sleep and suffocate on your own puke. That's not okay, little girl. You are not a crazy college kid anymore, and yet you were behaving like one. And yes, you were safe, you were among friends, but I surely don't need to tell you how lucky you are that that was the case. Any time you drink that much you put yourself in danger on many levels. You woke up with a hangover in your own bed, and now you're lying here over Daddy's lap getting a bare-bottom spanking for your naughty behavior, but it could have easily been so much worse. What if you had attempted to seduce someone that wasn’t me? Do you think you would be so lucky?"

I had forgotten how good Bas was at a devastating, guilt-inducing, tear-producing lecture. By the time he paused I was bawling, sickened and ashamed of the way I had acted. He was right, I was acting like a stupid college kid, even though I was a grown-ass woman with a good start on my thirties.

"I'm sorrrry!" I cried through my tears.

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