Page 53 of Morally Gray Daddies

I shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes. “No!”

He continued to pepper every inch of my punished behind, leaving no spot ignored.

The intensity of his spanking increased, and I had no choice but to let the tears I so desperately struggled to hold back fall. I kicked and gyrated my body along his upper thighs, trying my hardest to avoid the blows. Erik was only using his hand, but it matched the bite of my father’s cane any day. The sting of the spanking caused the tears to form, but the humiliation of being spanked in front of everyone by a complete stranger made them fall in large droplets to the ground.

My cries turned to pleas. Anything to have the inferno come to an end. “Please, please, please! No more!”

“So answer me the correct way. Do you play with knives?”

“No, Sir...” I swallowed, not sure if this was how he wanted to be addressed. The term seemed absurd to call a man I barely knew.

I feared the spanking would never end as he whaled on my behind repeatedly. Over and over, the sting from his hand made me cry out.

“I won’t play with knives, Sir!” I shouted, watching another teardrop fall and plop on the dirt below. Briefly, I noticed how his boots were lit by the firelight, making the leather look soft and warm.

I would have said anything Erik wanted at that moment. The burn from the spanking, the shame from being punished for all to see, all made me want to curl up in a ball and die from humiliation.

“Who do you belong to now?” he asked, still not letting up on the spanking.

I knew how he wanted me to answer that question, but my lingering stubborn pride held a firm grip of my tongue.

Erik stopped the spanking and reached for his belt buckle. “Do you need a belt to help you answer that question?”

“You! I belong to you, Sir,” I quickly answered, not wanting to push him any further, and terrified he was going to whip me with his belt to prove his dominance over me.

He rewarded my answer by caressing the heated flesh of my soundly spanked behind. “That’s a good girl.” He continued to pet me as one would an animal.

I raggedly gasped for air and sniffed back tears, trying frantically to get a handle on my out-of-control despair. His soft touch on my skin felt good—it stung, but felt good. Although anything besides the spanking would at this point, and all I felt was relief that my punishment was over. Or at least I hoped it was over.

“That’s it?” Pasco shouted. “Your wild animal tried to stab your own flesh and blood, and your response is to give her a tiny spanking?”

I squinted, preparing for the next punishment to come in response to Pasco’s outrage. Instead, Erik raised my panties and pants over my ass and gently pulled me into his lap. With the same hand he’d used to spank me, he pressed my tear-soaked face to his shoulder and began petting my head as he had just petted my punished behind. He smelled of campfire, leather, and yet a comforting smell that very much exuded… man.

Holding me firmly against him, he answered his brother. “How I handle what is mine is up to me. It’s no concern of yours.”

“No concern of mine?” Pasco huffed. “She damn near killed me.”

“If you had allowed this tiny thing to kill you with a small kitchen knife, Pasco, then you would have deserved to die.” Erik tightened his grip on me and pulled me even closer, if that were possible.

I gripped the fabric of Erik’s shirt in my fist, listening to and feeling his heartbeat thump against my body. Closing my eyes, I allowed a sense of comfort to take hold, even though Pasco was continuing his rampage—though only verbally. I knew—though I wasn’t sure how—that I was safe in Erik’s arms.

He was protecting me, even though he had horribly and publicly spanked me. My head spun with all the conflicting emotions. I hated the spanking, and yet a warm throbbing was making its way from my punished behind to the juncture between my legs. My pussy seemed to sizzle with a sensation I wasn’t sure how to comprehend. My punisher had embarrassed me, he had done something completely unimaginable, and yet his comfort afterward seemed to make it all okay. I had never been comforted after discipline. When caned by my parents, I was always left to wallow in my pain and tears. Yet, Erik held me.

Having moved his large palm to my back, Erik rubbed small circles while he kissed the top of my head. I tensed at such an intimate touch.

I pulled away and looked up into his eyes, not sure what to say. I didn’t know this man. He was a criminal. He and his brothers had all but kidnapped me. He stole from the dead then left them there to rot. He spanked me. He punished me against my will!

Yet, at that moment, I didn’t want to think anymore. I was tired. So very tired. And being held in the warmth and security of Erik’s arms, I felt safe. For the first time in ages, I felt safe. So even though a small part inside of me was screaming—even demanding that I fight—all I could do was simply nod then cuddle my head back into the curve of this man’s neck. At least for now…

Chapter Four

Erik carried me over to a pallet of blankets that had been turned into bedding for the night. I had barely opened my eyes—aside from a peek or two—since I closed them against Erik’s shoulder after my punishment. I was exhausted, but I also didn’t want to have to face the other women. I didn’t want to see their fear, or their pity. I definitely didn’t want to see Pasco’s face. I simply wanted to shut it all off and only focus on Erik’s security.

Coward?

Maybe.

Weak?

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