Page 151 of Daddy, Sir

“Uuuuuugh.” I leaned down and shoved my pants to my ankles before stepping out of them and kicking them angrily to the side. Zeke’s ex-military side was showing.

He sighed. “Go pick them up, fold them nicely, and set them on the table.”

“Okay, am I being punked right now? I feel like I’m being punked.” I looked around like the Rent-A-Daddy crew was going to come out with cameras, all laughing at me as payback for my ridiculous behavior.

Zeke actually cracked a hint of a smile. “You’re not being punked. I just have a very ritualistic way of administering a punishment, and you’re learning the hard way what it is. If you had come to lunch on time and not thrown your little fit, we would be discussing this, and you would know what to expect, but you pushed too hard and I couldn’t let it go on any longer. Just like when you gave me your phone earlier, drop the attitude and do as you’re told.”

That made sense, but it was still a ridiculous thing to have me take my pants off and fold them before I got a spanking. And as I forced myself to control my movements instead of huff and stomp and carry on as I completed the utterly stupid task, I kind of realized why he was making me do it. He didn’t only want me to participate in my punishment, he wanted me to submit to it with grace and acceptance. By forcing myself to calm down and carry out tasks, I had to think about what was happening instead of haphazardly going through the motions. By the time I set the pants next to him like I’d been asked, my headspace had done a total one-eighty. I remembered what had brought me to the club in the first place, and why I’d agreed to this.

“I’m sorry for my behavior.” I wrung my fingers together as I stood in front of my very large, very unamused Daddy.

Because somehow, that was how I was thinking of him now. Like the calm, stern, methodical way he conducted himself and managed me had somehow quietly shifted my thinking.

“Thank you for your apology. Now let's get this spanking out of the way, and we can get on with our day.”

He helped me over his lap, but his thighs were like steel, and as soon as I hit them it felt like all the air was forced out of my body in a loud “oomf”. It was not a comfortable position by any stretch of the imagination, and even less so when he shifted me and lifted one leg higher to raise my ass further into the air. I grabbed his calf for something to hold on to, because it felt like I could slide forward and fall on my face at any moment.

Zeke rested his hand on my panty-clad ass, and I silently wished I’d worn a cuter pair.

No, that's not what this was about. Zeke was my disciplinarian, not my boyfriend. Not even a prospect. It didn’t matter what my panties looked like.

I frowned, angry at myself for even having the thought. It was exactly the kind of thinking I was trying to get away from. It was what doing this was supposed to help me overcome, among other things. And yet, I hadn’t mentioned that when we’d negotiated at the club; not really.

So was I going to just sit there and let Zeke micromanage me in all the ways that truly didn’t matter because there was some part of me that liked the rules and sternness. And the way he called me babygirl? I might.

“Why are you over Daddy’s knee about to get your bottom spanked, naughty girl?”

Shit… umm… I tried to replay everything in my mind to come up with an answer. Thankfully Zeke gave me a moment.

“Because I didn’t do what you said?”

“We can start there, yes. In this house Daddy’s commands will be followed to the letter and without hesitation, or there will be consequences.”

I tensed, waiting for the spanking to start, but nothing happened. Craning my neck, I looked back at him to see what was going on.

He answered my unasked question. “I need a verbal acknowledgment that you’re listening and understanding me when I tell you something.”

“Oh. Umm, Yes, Sir… Daddy… Sir.” I didn’t know which title to use, and the blood rushing to my brain and… other parts of my anatomy, was not helping matters. I knew I wasn’t supposed to be thinking sexually, but I was half naked over a sexy ex-military man’s lap. How could I not be at least a little turned on?

All sexy thoughts flew from my mind the second Zeke’s paddle-like palm made contact with my ass.

“Ah!” I yelled as I reached my hand back. I knew he would spank hard, but holy hell.

Zeke seized my wrist and held it at the small of my back. “Don’t reach back while you’re getting a spanking. I don’t want to hit your hand and cause a real injury.”

“But you spank really hard!” I whined.

“I do. You’ll do well to remember that in the future.” His grip on my wrist tightened as he laid a flurry of spanks all over my quivering cheeks.

To say I did not take the spanking gracefully would be an understatement. I couldn’t. He was too strong. But thankfully it didn’t last long, and before I knew it I was sitting up and cradled against his chest, catching my breath.

“When Daddy needs to give you a swift correction, it will be hard and fast. I want to be able to make my point in a short amount of time. Scheduled punishments will be longer and more drawn out. They will also have more lasting effects.”

“Yes, Sir, Daddy, Sir.” I sniffled. That edict did not bode well for my bottom at bedtime, but at least this punishment was over for now.

“Good girl. Now I need you to eat a bit more food, and then we can discuss some more things.”

The chicken and vegetables were now all but inedible, but I forced down as much as I could, not willing to risk getting another spanking so soon.

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