Page 43 of Imperfect Skin

“Little Mouse, don’t push Daddy on this.”

Mouse narrowed his eyes. Lifting his chin in defiance, he slammed his hand down on the table. “No. Don’t want to apologise. You were going to ruin the surprise.”

“Not intentionally, lamb, and I didn’t look at your picture, I promise. But that doesn’t excuse you being rude.” There was more to Mouse’s behaviour than his worry I might see his picture. I wondered if this was his way of testing boundaries, seeing how I’d react.

I wasn’t going to allow him to misbehave, regardless of the stress he’d been under the last few days. I needed to show him I wasn’t going to be a pushover, but also that I wasn’t going to turn my back on him because he was acting out.

“You can either apologise and sit down and eat your snacks, or you go over my knee, and I promise you won’t enjoy it one bit.”

Mouse gave a furtive glance at the tray of food but then he frowned harder, his slim arms crossing over. “No, Daddy, you are being a meanie.”

I smacked my hands against my thighs as I stood. “Right. On your feet, Mitchell, this instant.”

Mouse’s eyes grew wide at the use of his name and the tone I’d taken, but he still had that belligerent set to his shoulders. He was pushing, that was for certain.

“Nup.”

“Mitchell, you either stand up and come over to me, or we halt this right now. I am not turning my back on you or giving up, but you are being a brat and brats get their arses paddled.” I held my breath, waiting for him to make a decision.

“You’re a mean Daddy,” Mouse huffed, but stood and shuffled towards me.

“I’ve made no bones about that, lamb. If you are going to be a naughty boy, then there will be consequences, just like there will be rewards for being a good boy for Daddy.” I sat down on the sofa and pointed to my lap. “Over my legs. You can stretch out on the sofa so it won’t hurt your back.”

Mouse draped himself gracefully over my lap, albeit with a certain amount of grumbling and accusations of me being the meanest Daddy ever.

“No, baby, if I was the meanest Daddy I’d put you on speech restrictions for the rest of the day and cage your little cock for a week. But since I want to hear all those pretty sounds when I fuck you into the mattress tonight, I shan’t do that.”

Mouse gasped and squirmed in my lap. “I’ll be good, Daddy, I promise.”

I pushed Mouse’s pyjama pants down, enjoying the view of his lovely, round little arse. It was perfectly biteable, and I could see myself spending many happy hours marking up that pale skin.

I squeezed and massaged the flesh of his bum, bringing the blood to the surface and ensuring he would feel the spanking. He grumbled and huffed but he hadn’t called red, and I instinctively understood he needed this as much as the colouring and cuddling.

“Take your punishment and all will be forgiven. Then you can eat your snacks and we can cuddle.”

“Could we skip the swats and go straight to the cuddling?”

“Afraid not, little Mouse, and here’s some food for thought. Next time you misbehave I won’t be using my hand. You’ll be getting my cane instead.”

Mouse shivered under my palm. “Are you trying to scare me, Daddy, or turn me on?” He giggled.

Oh, my sweet, naughty boy. He had no idea what he was in for. “Are you ready?”

Mouse gave a deep sigh, still not fully letting go. “I’m ready, Daddy.” He gave the right answer, but I could still hear the fight in his tone. Well, that was fine. I liked a challenge.

I landed the first slap without warning, hard and fast. I wasn’t going to give Mouse a chance to sink into it like he would a pain session. This was going to be a reminder and a promise that Daddy was here, and I wouldn’t let him drive me away, even if he was going to be a little shit.

On the second and third hits, I increased the intensity. He squirmed and muttered darkly. The next five were even harder, and Mouse had gone from some rather creative uses of the word fuck, to crying and begging me to stop.

“You’re doing so well for me, little Mouse. A few more and we’re done, but they’re going to be the hardest.” I ran a hand over his scarlet bottom. I could already feel the heat radiating off it, and the lines of tension had drained from Mouse’s body.

Mouse made a hiccupping sound, turning his head, and revealed his tear-streaked face, giving me a watery smile. “Okay, Daddy.”

“You’re making Daddy so proud, taking his pain. It will be all better soon, I promise.” By the time I’d laid the last five slaps down on Mouse’s arse, my hand was as red as my boy’s bottom. Mouse had gone lax in my lap, whimpering sweetly when I dragged my blunt nails along the bright crimson flesh of his arse.

“You did so well for me, little Mouse. I’m so proud of you.” I massaged his bottom, and he gave a pleased hum. “Think you can sit up for me?”

“It’s gonna sting a lot,” Mouse huffed as I helped him move so he was straddling my lap.

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