Page 31 of Sawyer
She thought what she’d endure was painful, but then he moved lower and began to pepper her upper thighs. Her cries rose to shrieks! “Oh! Oh! Ow! No, Daddy, please! That hurts! Owie!”
“Well, that is the point, naughty girl. Little girls remember lessons better if they have a burning ass and thighs to remind them.”
He didn’t slow down or ease back. If anything, his swats came faster and harder.
She began to sob when he moved back to her bottom.
“Owie! No… no! Daddy! Please, not there! Oh! No, not there, Daddy. Not there!”
But he didn’t move until the heat and pain on the backs of her bottom matched the fire he’d lit on her thighs.
When he finally stopped, she asked. “Are we done, Daddy?”
“Not yet, naughty girl. Do you understand how seriously I take your safety?”
“Y-y-yes, Daddy. I do. I-I promise!”
“Good. Now I want you to walk to that open space on the wall. I want your nose pressed there so you can think about how you are going to respond the next time I call your name and tell you to come to me.”
Her breath working its way into her lungs in spasms, she nodded. “Y-y-yes, Daddy.” She headed straight to the spot he’d indicated, dropping her skirt as she walked.
“Did I tell you to pull your skirt down, Half-Pint?”
“N-N-No, D-Daddy.”
“Then you pull it right back up to your waist. I want that red bottom on display so I can make sure I didn’t miss a spot. Now scoot!”
She scooted, bunching her skirt back around her waist. The sounds of wood against glass came from the kitchen. The only wood she had was by her stove. Dread made her legs tremble.
“Come here, little girl. I think I found something that can make a suitable impression about how Daddy feels about you running away and hiding when he calls.”
Slowly, she turned, finding exactly what she’d expected in herDaddy’s hand. It was the only thing she had from her grandmother. A large, thick wooden spatula made of walnut wood. She had used it to help her Nanny make many batches of fudge and peanut brittle.
Taking the smallest steps she thought she could get away with, she returned to stand in front of her Daddy. “How many minutes would you say you stood in behind the screen door, Half-Pint?”
“I don’t know, Daddy. Maybe five?”
He rose to his feet. “That’s about what I thought, too. So, five licks for five minutes should be about right. I want you to stand in front of the chair and place your hands on the seat.”
She had no idea how her poor rear end could take any more swats, but she did as he said. She’d known better than to run from him. Mindless terror was a horrible thing.
When she was in place, he said, “I want your feet further apart, babygirl.”
With his help, she shuffled her feet to the position he wanted. “I’m sorry I ran, Daddy. And that I didn’t come to you when you told me to.”
“Thank you, Half-Pint. I’m going to make this quick so we can get to the cuddling part. I need to hold you.”
She wanted that, too. He pressed his hand to the small of her back, steadying her. His hand was almost as hot as her bottom. “I’m not going to ask you to count. Ready?”
She couldn’t hold back her whimper. Her bottom was already throbbing. She was never going to be able to sit again. “Yes, Daddy,” she said.
Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.
He kept his promise and made it quick, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. As soon as he was finished, she stood back up and grabbed her bottom. She danced and stomped around the room, howling.
And then she was in his arms. He lifted her and carried herback to the couch. When he sat down and put her on his lap, she squealed and rolled to put her weight on her hip instead of her punished bottom.
Still sobbing, she managed to say, “I’m sorry, Daddy!”
