You can’t help me anyway.For the first time in her life, independent, I-can-do-it-myself Chyanne Saunders really wished she could give this burden to someone else and let them carry it for her. No one would be able to shoulder it better than her Goliath daddy and her impossibly strong master.
But if she told them… if theyknew… there was no way they would look at her the same way again. How could they?
“I was jus’ in a bad mood,” she mumbled in a babyish voice, kicking up a foot. “Sorry.”
There was a pregnant pause, and as she lay there, tense and waiting, she wasn’t sure if they believed her. She held her breath, wondering which she was more afraid of: more questions, or the spanking she had coming.
She didn’t have to wait long. She heard it before she felt it: the loud clap that filled the room, then the smarting pain that followed. In every other spanking she’d gotten, it had been given one cheek at a time. But this time, both were assaulted at once, by two equally strong, blistering palms.
It was almost too much to take, right from the beginning. She’d already been ready to cry, and it was a battle she quickly lost when they flattened her butt cheeks with resounding spanks meant to light a fire. They didn’t hurry. The spanks rained down, firm and stingy, until she burst into tears.
Then she was moved to standing. She tried to cover her face, but stopped at a sound of disapproval. She could barely make them out through the tears pouring down her cheeks.
* * *
Chandler
He watched Chyanne crying, nearly swaying on her feet, and fought the urge to take her into his arms. He knew they weren’t done yet, no matter how much he wished they were.
All he wanted was to finish her punishment and put this behind them, but something in his gut told him that even when her spanking was over, she still might not come clean.
One thing at a time. That’s all we can do.
He glanced at Aaron, who, if he felt the same, hid it better with an impassive face.
“We should bend her over the ottoman.”
Chandler looked at Chyanne to see if she’d heard through her soft, pitiful cries. If she had, she gave no indication. He got to his feet, gently cupped her shoulder and walked her over to the ottoman. “Bend over, darlin’.”
She began crying harder at his order, and slowly bent with halting, robotic movements.
But it was obedience nonetheless, and when she was in place, he felt Aaron at his elbow. The other man offered him the paddle.
He took it, taking a moment to look at it more closely. It really was a thing of beauty—long enough to cover both cheeks at once, but thin enough to impart a sting that wouldn’t be easy to forget. It had been polished until it shone. It almost seemed like a shame to dull that shine with spanking.
Chandler shifted his gaze to her bottom. Both cheeks were blushing with a soft, rosy pink. The slope of her arching back was the stuff fantasies were made of, and he couldn’t help but think that it would be even more so when offset by her ass when it was painted crimson.
He drew his arm back, took aim, and delivered a mild spank. Mild or not, she let out a screech and he watched as her skin jiggled, turning pale where the paddle had struck and then deepening in a stripe of color. He repeated this in the exact same spot, listening for her cry, then aimed just a bit lower before he struck again.
Then he turned to Aaron and offered him the paddle, moving out of the way for the other man, but in a place where he still had a good view. As soon as Aaron paddled her, Chyanne’s body shook with soft sobs that continued as he landed more blistering spanks.
They continued that way, the paddle changing hands, until her ass glowed back at them from the top of her full, rounded cheeks, all the way down to her once pale, creamy thighs. Chyanne’s crying was like a revved engine now, and when Chandler set the paddle down, he saw the other dom nod his head in agreement.
Then they were lifting her up, turning her around, and she collapsed, hiccupping breathy, sobbing apologies and promises.
His daddy heart went out to her. She sure looked—and sounded—like one very sorry little girl. At the same time, something in him was holding still, waiting, wondering when she would tell them what her naughty behavior had been about.
Aaron must have been thinking the exact same thing, because as soon as her crying softened, he turned her to face him, his finger crooked under her chin to command attention.
“Now it’s time to come clean, Chy.”
She froze, looking at him with wide eyes. “C-come clean?” she sniffled. “I… I don’t kn-know what you m-mean.”
The two men exchanged looks. Chandler’s daddy-sense was going off full force.
“The tantrum you were just punished for? What set that off?” Aaron tried again.
“I… I told you.” She sniffled again, never breaking eye contact. “I was j-just in a bad mood.”