Page 25 of My Best Friend's Dad

“What you want and what you need can sometimes be very different things,” he answered, and my inner walls squeezed so tight that I whimpered.

“Is it going to hurt?”

“It is because it’s supposed to, little girl. You knew better than to come in here. You’ve more than earned both my hand and my belt and that’s exactly what you’re going to get,” he warned.

My eyes widened at his words, and my heart thundered in my chest.

He didn’t mean that, right?

Why did that turn me on? Why was I looking forward to the strike of his hand and his belt against my bare skin?

His palm rubbed across my ass and the feeling was strangely calming.

For a moment, the two of us sat in silence, and then, without warning, his hand pulled away. I braced myself for the strike of his palm, but it didn’t come. Instead, a gentle caress tickled the curve of my ass, and I shivered. He was teasing me, testing me, waiting for the slightest sign of resistance.

“What are you waiting for?” I finally ventured, my voice shaky and full of lust. He chuckled softly, caressing my bare skin, and venturing so close to my pussy that I held my breath.

“I’m enjoying myself,” he answered, his voice dark.

He trailed his hand across the backs of my thighs, and I shivered at the sensation. The warmth of his palm and the firmness of his touch were driving me crazy.

I needed more.

I arched my back and pushed my ass up higher, at least as far as I dared, inviting his touch between my thighs. He laughed, a low and dangerous sound, and his fingertips grazed the outer lips of my soaking wet sex.

Then he pulled his hand away and brought it back down, only this time with a harsh, stinging slap to my left cheek.

I yelped and flinched, surprised at the suddenness of the blow. He didn’t let me recover, though. Instead, he struck the same spot twice more in quick succession and I yelped even louder. The sound was like a gunshot in this small room and then he struck the other side, spanking me several more times even harder than the first few.

I wanted to struggle, to throw myself forward and escape him, but my fear of falling combined with his hand on my waist kept me firmly in place.

I could take this, right?

A spanking was a punishment for a child, not a grown woman like me. I’d survive his hand and then his belt just like millions of children before me.

I clamped my lips shut. I’d keep quiet throughout the whole thing. I had to. I couldn’t let him know how much his hand was stinging right now.

But just then, his palm cracked against the underside of my ass, and I squealed, unable to hold it back. My whole bottom felt like it was on fire, and he hadn’t even been spanking me for more than a few seconds.

I pressed my lips back together, blushing furiously as he punished me.

You got this.

But Vincenzo didn’t give me any respite. Instead, he began spanking me faster, his palm raining down upon me again and again and again.

Each blow was harder than the last, and the heat of the spanking truly began to burn, growing hotter and hotter until it felt like my ass had been set aflame.

The pain was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It hurt. A lot. And yet, it was intoxicating and somehow, it was making my pussy throb even harder than it had been before.

Vincenzo wasn’t messing around. This was a real spanking and the longer it went on, the more I questioned whether or not I could take it.

How long would it go on for? How much harder was it going to get? How much more was it going to hurt?

I tried not to cry out, but it soon proved to be impossible. With each swat, I found myself whimpering, and then squealing louder and louder until he smacked right in between my cheeks on top of my pussy, and I let out a low animalistic moan.

He paused and did it again.

“Ah!” I cried out, and then his hand came down in the same place.

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