Page 60 of Learning Little Lizzie

“Yes, baby,” he said, his voice gentle and reassuring despite the pain he was inflicting on her poor backside.

His hand moved from her bottom and a moment later something hard tapped against her already scorched bottom, pulling a groan from deep within her chest. “This sucks.”

“I know. Working through those big feelings is hard. But it would be even harder without a Daddy who cares enough to help you, don’t you think?”

As much as it sucked and as much as she did not want to admit it, she knew he had a point. “I guess.”

“Hmm. That sulky tone tells me we’re getting somewhere. Give me your right hand, baby. You can keep holding your bear with your other one if you promise not to reach back. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”

“You’re already hurting me,” she grumbled as she gripped the General tight in one hand and offered her other up to her Daddy. “And he has a name.”

“He does?” Daddy almost sounded more excited about her bear having a name than she’d been about getting him. “When did that happen?”

“Today.” God, she sounded like a pouty child. But she wasn’t feeling very Big at the moment, so maybe she was entitled to a bit of a sulk.

“Do I get to know what his name is?” Daddy asked, amusement in his tone.

She was tempted not to tell him just on principle. But that seemed kinda mean, especially since Daddy really did sound like he wanted to know. And while she might be a brat, she didn’t really want to be mean. “General Fluffypants.”

“A very distinguished name for a very distinguished bear. Hold on tight to the General, baby, so you don’t reach back.”

Threading his fingers through hers, he pinned her other hand to the small of her back as she buried her face into the General’s fur. A moment later, pain exploded across her bottom and she arched up, crying out as the burn settled into her flesh.

“Ow, ow, ow, Daddy it’s too much! No more!”

Daddy didn’t even bother to respond. He simply swatted her again. And again. And again. Building the pain in her poor bottom until every inch of it felt hot and swollen and she wondered how she was ever going to sit comfortably again.

Her breath caught in her throat when he moved to her sit-spots. Tears blurred her vision as she kicked and thrashed over his lap.

“D-Daddy, please.” Her cries had turned to desperate whispers. “Please.”

“That’s it, baby. You’re so close. Let it all out for Daddy.” The next round of swats were even harder. “You can trust me, baby. Daddy’s got you.”

And with that, she broke. Shattered, really, into so many pieces she didn’t know how she’d ever manage to put them back together.

Still kicking, still fighting, she burst into tears, her breaths coming in great, big, body-shaking sobs.

“There we go. There’s my good Little girl.”

She was vaguely aware that he wasn’t spanking anymore and that he’d scooped her up into his arms, cradling her like a baby as she wept against his shoulder. But even so, her bottom ached and throbbed and she couldn’t stop crying.

“I don’t w-wanna be b-broken,” she wailed, clinging to him as she cried so hard she wasn’t even sure how she was managing to breathe past the sobs.

“Baby. You aren’t broken. You’re perfect.”

But she wasn’t. Perfect Little girls didn’t lie. Perfect Little girls didn’t constantly forget things.

Perfect Little girls didn’t need medicine just so they could be normal.

The tears were coming far too hard for her to say any of that, so she didn’t bother trying. She simply wept into his shoulder as he held her and rocked her and told her what a good girl she was. Until finally, the tight band around her chest eased, and little by little, her choking sobs faded to soft hiccups and sighs.

“There we go,” Daddy murmured, patting her bottom exactly like one might a fussy baby. “Feel better, little one?”

“Some.” And she did. Her chest no longer felt like there was a giant weight sitting atop it and she could breathe again.

She could also think somewhat clearly, in spite of her head feeling as though someone had stuffed it full of cotton.

“I’m not perfect.”

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