Page 9 of Her Bossy Daddy

“Now the battery died?” Liam tapped his chin. It was his ‘formulating a plan’ gesture, which never ended well for me. “I suppose we ought to properly check your temperature then.”

“I don’t own another thermometer.” I looked down, hoping he’d read the gesture as being shy, but my head soared at the victory. Liam took my chin in his palm and tilted it upward.

“Well, it’s a good thing I brought mine.”

My mouth went dry. Those words would play on repeat in my head, forever. One of my deepest, darkest fantasies involved the type of thermometer with a pretty pear-shaped bulb designed for somewhere other than my mouth. This scenario placed me in between a rock and a hard place. Own up about not being sick or confess to the lie. “I’m sure we don’t have to use yours,” I squeaked out.

“You’re in enough trouble. Let’s go.” He released his hold and then strutted into the living room.

I admired the way his tight black suit pants fit around his magnificent ass, then mutely followed.

Liam sank down on the couch then slipped his work bag off his shoulder. He flipped the top open, reached in, and set two distinct items on my coffee table: a jar of petroleum jelly and a red-cased thermometer. Liam got me ridiculously aroused when he nodded to them. I forced my feet to propel me to the couch. “Is there anything else in that bag I should be worried about?”

“You’re not worried about these, love.” He dispelled my misplaced fears. “But there are other items worth a mention, mostly expense reports and agenda notes.”

We had talked about the rectal thermometer on more than one occasion, and I masturbated each time. The combination of zero control along with the slight humiliation as my most intimate places would be in open view for him to see, pushed all my buttons. A tiny glass instrument could break if I struggled. The chances were slim, but during the process, I needed to be still and quiet. Thrills zinged through me, but they were also met with panic. No, I can’t let him see me like that.

“I’m going back to bed.” I spun on my heel but his hand caught my wrist. One swift jerked set me across his lap. “Wait. Please?”

“Take these down.” He tapped his hand along the waistband of my yoga pants.

“I can’t do that.”

His hard palm struck the very top of each of my thighs. “Can’t or won’t, love?”

I bucked and groaned and tried to escape but my efforts were fruitless. “Ow!” His grip tightened, and he changed his focus to my full cheeks. “Please!”

“Are you going to do what I tell you from here on?” He paused in his task but didn’t release his hold.

“Yes, I promise. Your hands hurt.” The times he had ordered me to spank myself in the past didn’t hold a candle to his palm.

“I bet.” Liam ran his free hand down my spine. “Take off your pants, Lacey. Now.”

Without further fanfare, I wiggled my pants and panties down past my thighs.

“Such a pretty bum you have.” He trailed his fingers across my behind, and they felt cool compared to my heated skin. “It’s so much better in the flesh.”

“I don’t know if I can handle this.”

“You can, and you’re going to.” Liam shifted slightly. “If you hadn’t pushed me away so many times, we could have gotten better acquainted in person. We could have figured out the business aspect too before our surprise first meeting.”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve had a lot going on in my head.”

“Yeah, as you keep saying, so let me clear some of the cobwebs for you, love.”

I wasn’t sure what to expect since I was bared to him, but it wasn’t what happened next. His palm slapped hard across my behind. Three blows landed in fast succession followed by three more. Over and over again a set of three smacked against one cheek, and then the same intensity hit the other.

“Ouch! Ouch!” I reached my hand back to stop the onslaught, but he caught it in one of his and pinned it to the small of my back. Several more hard slaps attacked the lowest curve of my bottom then lighter stingy slaps bounced from cheek to cheek. “Stop!”

“Who decides when your punishment is over, love?”

“You do.”

“Right. So, here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to check and see if you’ve got a fever. If you do, then I’m taking you to the doctor. If you don’t, then once I’m done with you, you’re going to wish you did. Get me?”

“Yes, it’s clear.” I adored the way he asked me if I understood him. Some might find his question aggressive, but his accent softened it. I braced myself for another round, but he released my arm.

“Ready the thermometer, and then hand it to me.”

---