Page 29 of Watch Me, Daddy

It was on the second strike that the sting finally hit me.

It was like getting stung by a bee, but only a thousand times worse. It was everywhere all at once, a billion little stinging pinpricks written into my bare flesh by nothing other than his palm, and I bit my lip, trying to keep quiet even as my pussy pulsed like a wild, traitorous little demon. The burn spread across both cheeks, and I tried my best to keep my head held high.

I was getting my bare bottom spanked like a naughty little girl.

“Daddy,please!”

“It makes my cock so much harder when you beg for me,” he growled. He shifted and the line of his body pressed against my side, including the iron rod of his cock against my hip. My pussy clenched hard at the feel of it, and I couldn’t help but unconsciously grind myself against it.

Calling him Daddy felt so unbelievably taboo. It left me feeling wild and untamed and impossibly turned on, so much so I couldn’t imagine calling him anything else in that moment. It felt wrong and wicked for all the right reasons, and so incredibly perfect.

“Daddy!” I gasped.

His hand slapped against my ass again.

“Daddy’s going to spank this naughty ass bright,brightred,” he declared, and as much as that made me nervous, it aroused me so much that I couldn’t see this happening any other way. I wanted to loathe every second of it, but as much as I tried, it seemed pointless.

My pussy certainly wanted it.

“Fuck you, Daddy!” I blurted out, trying to keep some semblance of control.

Fat chance. You’re the one with your ass bared, about to get the first real spanking of your life. He’s the one in control, and you know it. That’s why your pussy is so fucking wet.

“I’m going to enjoy every second of this,” he growled.

My heart hammered with nervous excitement in my chest.

“I’m not,” I lied, which only elicited an even darker chuckle to fall of his lips.

“Good,” he purred.

That single syllable reached down into the black depths of my soul and set it aflame. I stiffened, and his palm spanked my left ass cheek again.

It stung, but when his hand started to rain down on every square inch of my bare backside, I realized that the real spanking hadn’t even started.

Until now.

The first few smacks had been nothing more than a warmup. He spanked me much harder and much faster, taking care to punish all of my flesh as thoroughly as he possibly could. I cried out, the sting radiating more fiercely now. I started to fight against him, but he held me in place with almost no effort at all.

I bit my lip, vowing to myself to keep quiet, but even I knew I was lying to myself. I’d only be able to keep it up for so long. It didn’t matter about a silly vow. I would eventually succumb to his searing palm before I knew it.

I tried to stay strong. I told myself I could take it.

It’s only a spanking, right?

His hand scalded my backside, over and over again, and I easily lost count. The overwhelming sting took over my every waking thought, burning hotter and hotter. My bottom bounced beneath his palm, and I tried to tighten my cheeks, hoping it would hurt less.

It didn’t do anything to quell the pain at all, not even a tiny bit.

The searing burn simmered across my backside as he punished every square inch of it. The sting compounded on itself, growing more and more intense with every passing moment.

“I won’t lie again!” I tried.

“I’m going to make sure of that,” he replied, his tone darkly amused by my chagrin.

I didn’t know it was possible for the spanking to get harder, but it did. His palm lit into the upper expanse of my cheeks, continued down to the fullest part, and then went past the juncture where my ass met my thighs. His hand burned its mark into my bare flesh, painting me in stinging flames over and over until I thought I’d had enough, and then he pushed me that much further.

“Please, Daddy! It hurts!” I shrieked.