Page 37 of Guiding Little Gabi

“Then I must be doing something right,” he replied without hesitation. “Spankings are meant to hurt. Warm up is over now. Daddy is about to start your real spanking.”

What did he mean byrealspanking? What he’d been doing felt real enough. And then he landed a solid swat to the center of her right cheek. And then another. And another.

“Daddy!” she yelped. “Not the same spot. It hurts! Ow. Oh! Please, another spot, Daddy!”

And then he set his mind on the task. It hadn’t mattered how many times she’d cried “Please, Daddy” or “I’ll never lie again” or “I’m so, so sorry.” He roasted every inch of her bottom and the tops of her thighs. She was one sorry, sobbing little girl by the time he was done.

He rubbed the small of her back for a minute before deciding it was time to move on. “Hand me the hairbrush, babygirl.”

“No! I mean, I’ve learned my lesson, Daddy. Can you please not use the hairbrush?”

He must have been expecting her request. “Let’s see. Did you earn a hairbrush spanking?”

Why? Why did she lie about who she was? Knowing there was no use arguing, she admitted it. “Y-Yes, Daddy.”

“And how did you earn swats with your hairbrush, little girl?”

She hated having to tell why she was being punished. “I lied about who I was twice in a row. Even after I promised you I wouldn’t.”

“And does Daddy ever not do what he’s told you he’s going to do?”

She couldn’t hold her tears back any longer. “N-no, D-Daddy.”

“No. But I’ll let you choose. Do you want your swats fast or slow?”

“Slow, Daddy.” Fast swats with the brush were sure to send her into a panic.

He pressed the hairbrush against her bottom. Her pussy spasmed even as her bottom recoiled. “All right then, let’s get this over with so we can cuddle.”

He didn’t wait for her answer.

Before she registered that he’d lifted the brush, he brought it down in the center of her bottom, catching both cheeks. Seconds after she heard the sharp crack, white hot pain lit her bottom on fire.

“Daddy,” she wailed. “Please, not so hard.”

Her Daddy had other ideas. The next smack landed just as hard on her already glowing right cheek. He kept a metronome pace, slow, steady, and horrible.

“Ow! Oh no! Daddy, please!”

Without her legs being held, she kicked so hard she’d have won a gold medal in swimming at the Olympics. “Oh! Owie! I-I’m sorry, Daddy. Ow! I won’t ever lie again!”

He concentrated the last eight swats on the sensitive areas on her sit spots and upper thighs. Eventually, she ceased her futile struggles and collapsed over his lap, sobbing uncontrollably.

After the final swat, the brush clattered to the floor. He rubbed her back, comforting her and telling her how proud he was of her, until her sobs slowed.

“Back to the corner, babygirl,” he said, and he didn’t have to ask twice.

Her rear end throbbed so badly she doubted she’d ever sit again. And forget never lying. She would never talk again in public. Not ever.

After three eternities, he called, “All right, babygirl. Come here.”

Spinning around, she flew across the room and threw herself into his arms, sobbing. When she could catch her breath, she wailed, “I-I-I’m so s-sorry, Daddy. I don’t know wh-why I said all those th-things to everyone. You w-were right. They l-liked me anyway, for being just m-me.”

He stroked her hair and kissed her while holding her on his lap. “Hush now, little one. Of course, they liked you. You are an incredible person. Always have been.”

He cradled her, rocking her in his arms and letting her cry it all out.

Once she had settled, he stood with her still in his arms and carried her to the bathroom. Warming a cloth, he wiped her eyes and her red, runny nose. It was the sweetest, gentlest thing he’d ever done for her.

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