“We need to talk. Sit down.” Using his toe, Brock pulled a chair away from the table.
Her eyes widened, and he thought for a moment that she might refuse to sit, which would be another conflict.
But, swallowing nervously, she shuttered her eyes and sat in the chair, her back stiff, hands clasped in her lap.
Why was she so nervous? Something was up.
“Kathleen, I need you to be honest with me. Those men are the Tarminos. They’re dangerous and part of the mafia network in New York City. Do you know them?”
“Well… I mean… you just said they’re huge in the city. And, of course, I’ve lived here my whole life. So I know them that way, the name is familiar.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, giving away her nervousness even though she diligently kept eye contact with him.
Smart girl. But not that smart.
Sighing loudly, Brock leaned forward, their noses almost touching. “Don’t play with me, girl. Something isn’t right. Why did they show up here? Coincidentally after you’ve been taken to live here.”
Kat’s lips thinned, and Brock swore her eyes sparked with anger.
“How the fuck should I know. I mean, I’m not their fucking GPS, am I?”
Pointing his index finger at her, he growled, “Don’t use that tone with me. Tell me the truth.”
“Why, so you can badger me? It doesn’t matter what answer I give; you just plan on fucking me over as everyone else does.”
“If you don’t lower your voice and fix your attitude, I’ll fuck your ass and beat it until it’s raw. I need you to be serious.”
Kat leaned back, her eyes narrowing. If she was asked in the future to reflect upon this moment, she would admit that she didn’t give him any warning whatsoever. She just reacted to a threat made to her. Poor Brock didn’t know what hit him. Literally.
She picked up a plate from the table, left over from breakfast, and flung it at his head. His quick reflexes had him deflecting it with his forearm.
She screamed, “Fuck you!” And the sassy, belligerent brat charged for the back door.
“That’s it!” Leaping up from his chair, Brock grabbed Kat by a belt loop on the back of her jeans. “You’ll regret your decision in just a moment.”
“No, I won’t. But, oh, you will! Trust me.”
Bending her over the table, Brock once again admired the gorgeous, plump ass she had for such a petite frame. It was an ass made for spanking, squeezing… and fucking. But, right now, he wanted to blister her ass in the worst way. Then maybe he’d think about fucking her. “You will not change while this is happening, or we’ll just keep redoing it like Groundhog Day until the task is completed. Hear?”
Screeching, she thrashed her body on the table, doing her best to get away. “I’m not afraid, you’ll see, I don’t run away from things.”
“We’ll see about that, especially since you’ve tried escaping a couple of times and would have succeeded a minute ago as well.” He undid the button on her jeans, yanking and tugging the denim off her ass, exposing her pink and white striped panties.
Jesus, what an ass! And girlie panties on top of it.
“You’re getting an old-fashioned spanking, girl, for what you did.”
It startled him for a second. They’d discussed him being paternal and that she could call him Daddy but hearing it in this situation had him shocked.
Then his chest warmed. She’d called him Daddy. He’d never thought he’d find someone to see him that way, and now he had his own kitty and girl.
But right now, she needed to know her daddy had rules and boundaries.
“That’s right, Kitty. Daddy is paddling your ass.”
He slapped her ass with her panties still on, first with slow hard smacks, the skin pinkening quickly.
Brock paused, pushing the rest of the denim to her ankles. “Step out of this.” The embarrassment of being naked would reinforce her lesson.
“Tell me why you’re getting a spanking, Kathleen?” He rubbed his hand over the warm skin, and when she paused too long with an answer, he smacked the flesh, watching it jiggle pleasantly. “Why, girl?”
“Because I threw a plate at you.” It was apparent to anyone listening that the answer was given through gritted teeth. But it was okay. He knew how to change that quick enough.
“And?” He traced the white edge of the leg openings, her skin trembling and quaking with excitement and nerves. The scent of her arousal hung heavy in the air, and Brock’s cock lengthened and throbbed with his own needs.
At this rate, they were both primed and ready. First from the run, and second from this act.
“What?” She looked over her shoulder, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but the set of her jaw let him know she was angry.
“You said fuck you to me. You won’t do it again either.”
Growling deep within his chest, it took everything Brock had to keep a somewhat calm demeanor. Daddies didn’t lose control. They got angry—but they were always in control.
“That’s twice. This last one will be with the belt at the end of your bare bottom spanking. Panties. Off.”
The pregnant pause lengthened, and Brock patiently waited. “I have all day; how about you, Kitty Kat?”
Kat grumbled, the rumble in her chest before hooking her thumbs into her panties and pushing them just below her plump ass.
Brock tugged them the rest of the way down her legs, barking, “Step out.”
Pulling her feet out of the tangled cloth, she leaned over the table, shifting her legs uncomfortably.
“Hold the other side of the table, girl.”
Obediently she gripped the edge, resting her cheek on the surface.
Brock slid his finger into the deep cleft of her buttocks, the red edges of her bottom a stark difference to the lily-white flesh that had been protected under her panties.
Not wishing to waste another moment, he slapped her ass furiously, his hand marching up and down each cheek right to the middle of each thigh.
Kat stoically received the swats, only small gasps being elicited until he focused his swats on her sit spots; that was when her voice broke, and the real spanking began.
“You will not hit me or throw things at me. Understand?”
“Y-yes,” she screeched, drumming her toes on the floor.
“You will not yell fuck you to me ever again, are we clear?”
“Good girl.” Bending a bit, he brushed his callused hands on her red flesh, looking for areas that needed a bit more attention. Then, beginning in earnest, he swatted her ass and thighs until they were a uniform angry red.
Kat mewled, kneading her hands on the edge of the table, which was drenched with her tears. A lesson had been taught and learned. The brat needed discipline, and he’d be the one to provide it as necessary.
The light from the kitchen window shone off the wet lips of her sex. Brock dipped his finger into her slit, slipping and skating along her juices. She may have hated the chastisement, but her pussy loved it.
“Look what I have here.” Brock pulled his finger from her, her honey dripping down the digit, and he displayed it in front of her to see. Licking it loudly, he moaned, “Damn, girl. You’re sweet. I may have to paddle your ass more often if you respond like this.”
Brock flicked her clit, teasing it, making feathery circles along the smooth flesh.
Her hips swiveled, and she ground her mound on the edge of the table. Brock thrust his fingers into her pussy, and she clenched tightly. “Damn, Kat. Are you feeling needy, baby? Is Daddy’s baby girl needing relief?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she sighed, her hips languidly flexing and rubbing, the line between her buttocks thinning as she clenched.
“Well, I’d like to oblige, but a bad girl decided to scream fuck you to me a second time, remember?”
“Wrong answer. Yes, Sir is the correct reply.”
“Good girl. And what did Daddy say he’d spank you with for the second infraction?”
“The belt. But no, Daddy.”
“Sorry, baby. Rules are rules, and you decided to be obnoxious and rebellious about it, didn’t you?”
“Let’s finish this.” Brock took a couple of steps to the side, giving his naughty girl a clear view of him taking his belt off. He moved at a snail’s pace, dragging the process out, hoping to increase her arousal and dread.
He pushed the tail through the buckle, gripping it tightly, easing the metal tooth out of the hole, and slipping the belt free of the buckle. He then grasped the buckle tightly in his palm, whipping it quickly through the loops, the belt snapping and cracking through the belt loops before dangling to the floor like a poisonous snake. Brock slowly folded the leather, keeping the buckle safely palmed, and resumed his position behind the very sorry and sore girl.
“You don’t call me names or yell fuck you. Clear?”
“Ask me for your whipping, Kathleen.”
Keening, she buried her head in her arms. “Please, Daddy, spank me with the belt.”
“Gladly, bad girl.”
He swung his arm out, the leather cracking against the crest of her ass, and he snapped it several more times, leaving pink swaths of fire on her backside.
Kat’s sobbing broke his heart, and she no longer could hold still.
Grasping her hip to his side, he held her still and continued leaving stripes on her thighs as well.
Dropping the belt, Brock’s buckle clattered loudly on the wooden floor. He quickly stood her up, pulling her into his chest. Brock kissed her forehead, cheeks, and hair. “You were such a good girl. My girl. It’s all over now. We’re good. No more anger or resentment. You’re so sweet.”
He swayed with her, holding her until her sobs became just hiccups. He continued to coo and whisper in her ear.
Kat clung to him, his shirt fisted in her tiny hands. She slowly came back, her body stiffening—when she realized she was still naked from the waist down, no doubt.
He pulled her away, kissing her red nose, wiping the tears tracking down her cheeks away.
“You okay, baby?”
“It hurts, Daddy.”
“I bet it does. But you’ll be my good girl now, right?”
“That’s my girl. Now tell me who owns this.” His hand cupped her pussy roughly.
“You do, Sir.”
“Who owns this?” Brock tapped his index finger on her clit.
“You do, Sir.”
Bending her back over the table, he squeezed a red buttock with purple weals rising to the surface. “This?”
“Ow! You do, Sir.”
Dipping his fingers into her slick channel, he asked, “And this, baby girl?”
“You do, Daddy.”
“Is my baby still needy?” He continued to pump his fingers into her pussy and tapped her tiny hole with the other hand.
Kat jumped, clenching tightly and yelling, “Oh, God!”
“That’s right, girl. Tell me what you need.”
“Daddy, fuck me, please!”
“Good girl. It’ll be my pleasure.”
Kat couldn’t remember a time in her past where she was this sore… or this turned on. How in the hell did a spanking—an ass blistering—arouse her this much?
Something is very wrong with me. Very.
She’d just received a thorough paddling from Brock—Daddy—and now, with her juices seeping down her thighs, she’d wantonly just begged for him to fuck her.
How does this even happen to me? Why?
It seemed to be the age-old question, at least in Kat’s life. Things seemed strange and complicated—always. She yearned for the dull and mundane.
Friends of hers wished for excitement, a lifestyle that resembled the romance novels they read. Not her; she had enough angst and drama to last a lifetime, and she wasn’t even fucking thirty yet.
Her ass tingled—just thinking of saying the word fuck had her ass crawling.
She’d distracted Brock enough the questioning had stopped, and maybe she’d have some time to figure out a plan of action to divert a crisis. She’d finally met the man of her dreams and didn’t want any tragedies interfering.
All worries, fears, and dread fled from her mind once Brock flicked her clit again. Jumping, she quickly widened her stance, pushing her backside out, wanting nothing more than his cock impaling her.
“That’s my good girl.” Brock teased her opening with his hard penis, inserting only the tip; he refused to push into her or fill her.
Pressing against her little hole, he teased her there. No one had ever done that before, and it made her insane with pleasure.
“Like this, do you, little one?”
“Mmmm, we may have to stretch you here. Practice until you can take the entire length of me.”
His deep chuckle had her grinning. His laugh comforted her, and without seeing him, she could see the smirk and dimple in her mind’s eye.
“Look at this poor backside. Someone was a bad girl. Did it hurt, little girl?”
“Yes, Daddy. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Without any hesitation, Brock’s deep voice growled, “I didn’t ask.”
The infernal man continued to tease her clit and little asshole. Kat ground her mound along the edge of the table.
With no warning, Brock thrust into her with one hard push, bottoming out at the top of her womb.
“Fuuuuuck.” Kat shivered from head to toe, clenching tightly around his hot length. He filled her completely, to the point of delicious uncomfortableness, escalating her throbbing.
“You’re so fucking tight, Kat!” Then, easing himself almost entirely out, he pistoned within her channel, swiveling his hips and brushing along her g-spot.
Gasping for air, she keened loudly. “Oh… oh, God… that’s it!”
“I know, baby. Drink it in, sweetness.”
The animalistic thrusting and groaning climbed to a crescendo. Kat swore even in this short time; she’d never met someone who fit her like a glove. It was destiny. Had to be.
God had brought them together for this time. Brock understood her needs, wants, and would be there to protect her. Protection had been what she always wanted, needed, and strove for, it seemed her whole life. She had wanted nothing more than someone who would watch out for her, caring for her, ensuring nothing would interfere with her happiness.
A lion to her Persian cat. A daddy to her little girl. Protector to her fragile state.
Could it possibly be that she’d found a partner—a shifter—for life?
Unable to focus on anything but the pounding of his cock, Kat gripped the edge of the table. She pushed back onto him, the slapping of their flesh unmistakable if someone were to intrude on them.
“Oh, fuck! I’m coming, Daddy!”
“Me. Too. Come, sweetie. Daddy’s got you!”
Her vision turned gray, bright lights flashing with her orgasm. Kat swore she lost consciousness for a moment. Her flesh squeezed and clamped tightly on his still hard penis.
Brock slammed into her, his hot seed spurting within her, warm and thick. He continued to thrust, the slippery warmth spurring her into another orgasm, overtaking her with a long hard shudder and groan.
Growling, he nipped at the soft flesh of her neck and whispered, “Mine.”
And she was his. Totally, without question, and unbelievably his.
Her rational mind fought with the emotional side. It didn’t make sense. Even though she didn’t doubt the existence of love at first sight, she’d previously been a naysayer, hating the very idea of chemistry and happily ever after.
Now she wanted to scream from the rooftops. Bitches, love at first sight is fucking real!
Wouldn’t her family and friends laugh? They had always seen her as the jaded girl who fought against emotions, believing what was tangible and proven by science—leaving the romance and girly shit for others.
Yet, underneath—the part that was dancing now—had always hoped for a love like this. A love that made no sense but had struck out of the blue and made two souls one.
Wasn’t that what the cartoons and movies of childhood were about—and what about the smut books she read? They pushed this element often—with a million-dollar industry to prove women yearned for a fairytale lifestyle and ending.
But did Kat believe in fairytales? Not really.
She may be in love, but she hadn’t lost all her sensibilities. Life was cruel and torturous—more for some than others. She of all people knew this. Obviously.
Yet, with a soulmate, one could tackle anything, taking on any challenge before them. But would they be able to handle her chaos?
She hoped against all hope. Even her parents had decided it was too much for them, but then again, her parents had bailed on any responsibility.
Daddy Brock wouldn’t do that, would he?
He loved her and already had been protecting her, guiding her, and disciplining her.
Kat wouldn’t push the envelope, that’s for sure, but when and if the time came and her issues surfaced, she’d put her hope and trust in him first and foremost.
“Baby?” Brock kissed her neck, working his way up to her chin, and after staring into her eyes, he kissed her nose. Those beautiful green eyes mesmerized her every single time.
“You okay, Kitty Kat?”
“I’m not sure I trust your answer, you seemed so far away.” Pulling from her, Brock lightly smacked her ass. “Get dressed, we still have some talking to do.”
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