Please Daddy(7)

By: Maggie Ryan



Placing the items he’d retrieved onto a small table, he went towards the hearth. Picking up the antique, yet very sturdy, ladder-back chair from its place, he moved it to the center of the room, next to the table. As he had done when they’d found the chair on one of their weekend jaunts to explore out of the way antique stores and flea markets, he smiled wondering how many men had taken a seat in this very chair in preparation of drawing a naughty girl across their lap to apply needed corporal discipline to a pale bottom. Turning towards the foyer, he took another few moments just watching Colette. It was an activity he’d never tire of.

She was standing as instructed. Her bare bottom, pale as the snow falling outside the window, was pushed out into the room. Small hands were linked on top of her head, her torso pressed against the door so that her nipples made contact properly. Experience told him that the tip of her nose would be a little pink from the pressure necessary to hold her position. Going to the fireplace, he opened the screen to allow more heat to waft across the room. Though he knew he’d be warming her bottom quite thoroughly, he wanted to ensure that Coco wouldn’t grow chilled. Satisfied that all was prepared, he sat down, unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, and called to his little one.

“Come here, Coco.” He knew it shamed her immensely to be forced to take what he referred to as the “shuffle of shame.” She was completely nude except for her panties, her steps inhibited by their presence at her knees, and even though she knew that she was going to be punished, she came.

While she began to shuffle towards him, he began to roll up his right sleeve. It was a sight he knew had both her pulse rate increasing and her bottom clenching. He had both sleeves rolled to his elbows before her tiny steps brought her to stand directly before him. When her eyes dropped to the table’s surface, widening at what she discovered awaiting her, his eyes scanned her body taking note of the slightly pink tip of her nose, her tightly puckered nipples, and her slightly spread stance necessary to keep her panties at her knees. It didn’t escape him that despite the fact she was trembling slightly, he could see the glistening coating her inner thighs. Two things were abundantly clear as she returned her eyes to his. She wasn’t thrilled about what she’d seen on the table and despite that truth, she couldn’t keep her body from responding to her daddy’s dominance before the first swat ever landed.

“Why is Daddy going to blister your bottom, Coco?”

“I-I didn’t obey you, Daddy.”

“That’s right. You ignored Daddy when he told you to wear your coat. Going out improperly dressed is a safety issue, isn’t it?”

Her could see her fight to swallow, both of them knowing that discipline for ignoring safety rules was harsher than discipline for simple disobedience. He watched as the adult lawyer within her struggled against the little girl who had taken the vows she’d given on their wedding day to a different level…a level that required her submission to his wishes, obedience to his rules, and acceptance of punishment delivered by her daddy when she broke those rules.

“Answer me, Colette.”

“I-I guess…” Her eyes dropped for an instant then lifted to give the true answer. The answer that would not only justify her upcoming spanking but force her to admit she’d made a big mistake that morning. “I mean, yes, Daddy.” Evidently the adult attorney was still not fully banished, as she looked once again at the table and said, “But I was in a—”

“No,” Dalton chided, shaking his head. “I’m not interested in excuses, little girl. I’m interested in making sure that the next time your daddy tells you to do something that instead of ignoring me, you’ll obey.” He reached for her, taking her arm and guiding her between his spread knees. “It doesn’t matter if I’m instructing you to brush your teeth, mind your manners, or put on a coat. Let this spanking remind you that my little one is to obey every single instruction she is given.”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered, her lower lip trembling as he pulled her down and positioned her draped over his left leg with her bare bottom perched on top of his thigh. Her hair fell to shield her face, her hands moved to grip the legs of the chair, and her toes were barely able to touch the floor behind her. He gave her bottom a pat before reaching for the first item on the table. Once the jar was open, he lifted the lid of the black box sitting next to it and removed the long glass tube.

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