Page 25 of A Bad Girl's Needs

“Listen… to me… bad girl…” Daddy Daniel spoke with each smack, his voice calm and measured, belying the force of his blows, as if he meant to ensure I understood that he would never punish me in anger, never lose control that way.

I squirmed and whimpered, my bottom already on fire from the thorough spanking. The earlier paddling and rough use of my virgin asshole had left my flesh exquisitely sensitive. Now, each strike of Daddy Daniel’s hand sent shockwaves of agony radiating through my core.

“Thank you, Daniel,” Daddy Otto called over from his chair, his voice thick with arousal. “What a beautiful and stimulating sight you’re providing.”

I turned my head, tears streaming down my face, to see Daddy Otto lounging in the other chair. Jenna knelt between his spread legs, her blonde head bobbing frantically as she pleasured him.

As Daddy Daniel’s hand continued to rain down punishing blows on my upturned bottom, I found my mind racing, trying to make sense of my own actions and emotions. The pain was intense, each smack reigniting the soreness from my earlier paddling and rough anal use. Yet beneath the burning sting, I felt a growing heat between my thighs, an undeniable arousal that both shamed and confused me.

Why had I lashed out at the man I couldn’t help thinking of as my daddy? The question echoed in my mind, competing with the rhythmic sound of palm meeting flesh. As I squirmed and whimpered across his lap, a troubling thought began to take shape.

Had I talked back because, deep down, I knew this would be the result? Because some part of me craved the burning acheof a thoroughly spanked bottom? The idea was mortifying, yet I couldn’t dismiss it entirely. I recalled the intense pleasure I had experienced earlier when Daddy Daniel had fucked my virgin ass, how the pain and humiliation had somehow heightened every sensation.

But even as that unsettling realization formed, another, equally troubling thought emerged. When my daddy had asked about my day, I had felt a surge of… something. Not just arousal or submission, but a warm glow in my chest. Affection. Maybe even the stirrings of something deeper.

That feeling, more than anything else, had triggered my defiant response. It was too dangerous, too confusing to contemplate. Easier to lash out, to maintain the illusion of utter apathy.

As the huge, strong hand continued to fall with punishing force, I felt an almost perverse sense of gratitude wash over me. The searing pain in my bottom, radiating outward with each stinging slap, consumed my entire being. It pushed aside the swirling vortex of confusing emotions and conflicting desires that had threatened to overwhelm me moments before.

The burning agony became my entire world, narrowing my focus to the singular sensation of my daddy’s palm connecting with my tender flesh. Each impact sent shockwaves through my body, the pain so intense it bordered on transcendent. My skin felt as if it were on fire, every nerve ending alight with exquisite torment.

I lost myself in the rhythm of the spanking, my body jerking and twitching involuntarily with each blow. Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the saliva that dripped from my open mouth as I panted and whimpered. The cool air of the room felt like sandpaper against my blazing skin, clashing with the heat radiating from my thoroughly punished backside.

As the pain built to a crescendo, I found myself teetering on the edge of something profound. It was as if the relentless spanking was breaking down the walls I had built around myself, stripping away layers of pretense and denial. In that moment of excruciating clarity, I felt raw and exposed in a way that went far beyond my physical nakedness.

Suddenly, a scream that I couldn’t keep in burst from my chest. The sound echoed off the ornate walls of the Hall of Pleasure, a primal sound of agony and release that seemed to come from another person, a different bad girl. The burning in my bottom had become an inferno, consuming every thought and sensation. Tears kept streaming as I writhed helplessly across Daddy Daniel’s lap, my body no longer under my control.

“Please!” I wailed, my voice raw and desperate. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Daddy!”

But Daddy Daniel wasn’t finished with me yet. His hand came down three more times in rapid succession, each strike harder than the last. The sound of palm meeting flesh cracked through the air like gunshots, punctuating my screams.

“I.”Smack. “Won’t.”Smack. “Tolerate.”Smack. “Sass from a bad girl,” Daddy Daniel growled, his voice low and dangerous.

I collapsed across his lap, all of the fight and defiance drained from my body. Sobs racked my frame as I lay there, limp and utterly defeated. The burning in my bottom radiated outward, consuming my entire being. I could feel the heat emanating from my punished flesh, certain that my skin must be glowing as red as the lace teddy that now clung to my sweat-soaked body.

As I wept, I became aware of other sounds in the room. The wet, rhythmic noises of Jenna’s mouth working Daddy Otto’s cockprovided a lewd counterpoint to my sobbing. I opened my eyes to see that the dark-haired man had taken hold of the blonde head in his lap, holding Jenna’s mouth in place as he thrust his hips brutally upward to drive his rigid penis deep in search of dominant pleasure.

Daddy Daniel gathered me into his strong arms, lifting me effortlessly from his lap. My body felt limp and boneless as he cradled me against his broad chest, the pain in my thoroughly spanked bottom radiating outward with each movement. I whimpered softly, burying my face in the crook of his neck as he carried me across the room.

The scent of his cologne filled my nostrils, a heady mixture of sandalwood and something distinctly masculine. Despite the burning ache in my posterior, I found myself acutely aware of every point of contact between our bodies—the firm muscles of his arms supporting me, the soft hair on his chest tickling my cheek, the warmth of his skin against mine.

As we moved, my mind began to race with possibilities of what might come next. Would he bend me over the bench and fuck me from behind, driving his thick cock into my aching pussy while my spanked bottom burned? Or perhaps he would make me kneel before him, using my mouth for his pleasure as Jenna was doing for Daddy Otto?

Would he invite Daddy Otto to… to…

To use me.

The vivid images that flashed through my mind sent an unwelcome jolt of arousal straight to my core. I felt my inner muscles clench with need, even as shame burned through me atmy body’s eager response. How could I be turned on after such a harsh punishment? What kind of depraved slut was I becoming?

As if to mock me, Miss Frieda’s voice echoed in my head.“Bad girls only get fucked with a very sore bottom.”

Daddy Daniel carried me to a padded leather bench in the corner of the room. He laid me down roughly on my back. The leather against my skin sent a shiver through my limbs. My bottom burned fiercely where it pressed against the bench, sending renewed waves of pain through my body.

“Display your pussy for me,” Daddy Daniel commanded, his voice low and husky. “Show me how wet you are after your punishment.”

Blushing furiously, I reached down and grasped my knees, pulling them back toward my chest. The position left me completely exposed, my most intimate parts on full display. The thin strip of lace that had covered my sex was now pulled to the side, revealing my glistening folds to Daddy Daniel’s hungry gaze.

I shuddered as the cool air of the room caressed my heated flesh. To my shame, I could feel how slick and swollen my labia had become, my arousal evident despite the pain still throbbing in my thoroughly spanked bottom.

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