Her pussy flooded, drenching her knickers, at the words little girl. It was what he often called her, but right now, spoken in that stern, possessive tone, her insides melted. “Take off your pants. Your underwear, too.” Was it arousal she could hear in his husky tone?
Slowly, she undid the button on her jeans. Unzipped the fly. Slid them down her hips, down her thighs, letting them drop to a puddle at her feet.
“Hurry up.” The order was barked this time, harshly. A tremor of mild fear shook her. This was going to be bad. Maybe she should just tell him the truth after all, throw herself at her mercy. She opened her mouth. Closed it again. No. A woman was entitled to her secrets.
Roughly, she yanked down her knickers to join her jeans at her feet. Grateful for the long shirt she wore, she tugged on the hem, pulling it down to cover her intimate lady parts, trying to preserve what little modesty she had left. If only she hadn’t unbuttoned it so far. She was virtually falling out of it, she’d undone it so much.
“Fold them up and put them on the table, then come back and stand in front of me.”
Shuffling her feet, looking at the floor, Carly obeyed, her heart in her mouth. Careful not to move too much so the shirt stayed in place, she placed her clothing as he’d told her to, then hesitantly stepped back into place between his splayed knees.
“Put your hands on your head.”
Raising her arms to lace her fingers together on top of her head caused her shirt to ride up, exposing her treasures to his gaze. Frantically, she tugged it down, wanting to cover herself up, as shame flooded her.
“Hands back on your head,” Josh growled. “You weren’t told to move your hands.” He looked her up and down for a moment and she shrivelled under his gaze, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole. Reluctantly, she lifted her hands back to her head, moving them as slowly as she dared. It didn’t matter that he had already seen everything she had to offer; right now, like this, shame flooded her and she wanted to hide.
“You can lose the shirt,” he commanded. “You didn’t want to listen, so I’ll make it worse for you.” He reached for her buttons, quickly slipping them undone. “One way or another, little girl, you are going to learn to listen.”
“No!” she cried, trying to step back but finding herself held fast by the grip Josh had on her shirt. “Please!”
Josh raised one eyebrow in silent warning. Holding her still, he undid the last button and slid the shirt back off her shoulders, not shifting his eyes from hers for a second.
“No!” Automatically, her hands left their spot on her head and wrapped around her chest, desperately trying to hide her body from his gaze. Her breasts were spilling out of her lacy bra and her nipples were hard, evidence of the effect Josh’s commanding voice had on her traitorous body.
“Yes. Clothes are for good girls. And you’re not a good girl, are you? You’re a bad girl. A very bad girl. Bad girls don’t get to wear clothes. They get punished completely bare.”
Carly froze. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t strip for him, knowing what it was going to lead to. She couldn’t willingly participate in her own punishment. She couldn’t take off her bra and expose her breasts to him, not when they were hot and tingly and achy and her nipples were tight little buds threatening to burst.
“Hands back on your head,” he snapped, slapping her knuckles.
Slowly, trembling, she obeyed. The second she did, he grabbed her shoulders and turned her and although she tried to resist, her feet swivelled on the floor, her body responding of its own accord to the pressure of his hands.
She concentrated on the shaft of sunlight streaming in the window in front of them, trying to count the millions of tiny dust particles floating in the air in an attempt to distract herself from what Josh was doing. If she wasn’t aware of it, then it wasn’t happening, right?
Again, her body turned of its own accord as Josh discarded her bra and used gentle pressure on her hips, spinning her around so she was facing him again.
“Spread your legs.” Another barked order.
“Why do you want to humiliate me?” Carly questioned in a small voice, fighting the urge to refuse, to tell him to get stuffed, she wasn’t doing it. “I don’t understand.” Anger and shame intertwined, washing over her in turn. The spanking was one thing, and she deserved it: she had broken their rules. Rules she’d agreed to follow. Rules that she knew were there to keep her safe. But the humiliation factor… all that was doing was making her angry. She was a grown woman. Intentionally embarrassing her was neither necessary nor fair.
“You’re resisting this punishment, aren’t you?” Josh asked her gently. “The embarrassment of being naked, fully bare for me, will bring you to the place of submission quicker. It will help to remind you that your high country men are in charge, and that it is your role to obey the rules we have in place for you.”
Carly nodded slowly. She was resisting the punishment. Tell him! the fearful part of her cried, but her stubborn pride pushed it away. She wasn’t going to tell him. Whatever Josh was going to do to her, she would take it. She might not like it, but she would take it. It was better than telling him the truth about her past. That part of her was going to stay forever hidden.
“After all, you’ve broken this rule before, haven’t you, little girl? And you’ve made no secret of that fact that you think it’s a stupid rule. Pathetic, even.” Sparks ripped through her, sensation prickling her everywhere, at his words, his tone. His voice was so deep, so commanding, so authoritative. He was in charge, no doubt about it.
When she didn’t respond immediately, he took her chin in his hand and turned her face to look at him. Steely determination was clear in the gaze he fixed on her. There was no way she was going to get out of this.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“And what happened last time you broke this rule?”
“Davo spanked me.” Her voice cracked at the memory, and at the realisation that the first spanking, as hard as it had been, hadn’t been enough. She’d had a chance to go back to the house, probably before Josh even realised she was gone, and she hadn’t done it. The butterflies inside her flitted crazily. Somehow, she knew this was going to be much worse than the simple spanking Davo had dished out.
“Right.” Josh fixed her with a hard stare. His eyes glinted dangerously. “Davo’s a big man, he can pack a wallop. But it wasn’t enough to teach you a lesson, was it?”
She shook her head.
“So that’s why the humiliation factor is coming into play here. A simple spanking didn’t work. I’m going to make sure that this does.”
Carly gulped. She felt so vulnerable, standing before him completely naked, with her hands still on her hand. The pose she held caused her breasts to jut out, and the wide stance of her feet meant her jewels were fully on display for him. Jewels that she just knew were glistening with arousal. Despite the trouble she was in, her body was responding to the dominance she’d always craved, and she didn’t know how to stop it.
“You’re very naughty,” Josh told her. “And very naughty little girls get thoroughly punished, on their bottoms, on their pussies, and between their cheeks.”
She gasped, and her bottom clenched involuntarily at his words. She felt her face flame even hotter. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Between her cheeks? On her pussy? Surely he couldn’t be serious? Josh had spanked her pussy before, just recently, in fact. He’d spanked her there thoroughly. But the circumstances then had been entirely different. And the light slaps of his fingers against her swollen pussy lips had been designed to arouse and torment more than punish.
“You’re blushing—good. I want you to feel like the naughty little girl that you are.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Carly whimpered. “I won’t do it again, I promise. Please don’t spank me. I’ll leave you a note next time, I promise you I will!” She hated the pleading tone in her voice, hated the fact that she’d been reduced to begging, but she couldn’t help herself. She had to at least try to get off the punishment. The few swats he’d already given her had left her bottom tender, and she knew that was nothing compared to what he had planned.
“I’m sure you will, young lady.” Josh sounded even sterner than before. “And right now, you can put yourself across my lap and take the spanking that you have coming to you.”
Between her legs ached with need. Her traitorous body made it clear what she thought of dominant, stern Josh. She tried to hide it. She tried to hate it. But she failed.
She stepped forward, as slowly as she dared, her heart pounding, a slight nausea welling up in the pit of her stomach, her palms clammy with fear. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t willingly place herself in position to be spanked.
“I… I can’t.”
“Do you want me to help you?”
Carly nodded. Yes. Josh reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrist, pulling her down across his muscular, denim-clad thighs.
He held her there for a moment, completely still, perhaps admiring the faint handprints she knew were already marring her skin, perhaps contemplating her impending punishment. Her stomach knotted herself tighter as her pussy clenched with need. How could her body do this? How could she be so turned on at a time like this?
Josh rubbed her bottom, his callused palms rough against her skin. She was surprised by how work-worn his hands felt. Much of his time was spent in the office, behind the desk, or up in the air. Although the way he’d been wielding that axe yesterday, attacking the pile of wood stacked up behind the house, she should have known. When he’d looked up and saw her spying on him he’d given her a lazy grin, shed his shirt and swung the axe with a renewed vigour, his muscular chest and shoulders glistening in the sun, the sinews in his arms visible from her window seat… Smack! Smack! Smack!
Josh’s palm cracking down on her bare backside jolted her out of her very pleasant daydream and brought her right back to where she was, naked across the thighs of the very man she’d been thinking about. The swats fell thick and fast, landing in a random pattern all over her bottom and the tops of her thighs, and even though she wriggled and squirmed for all she was worth, there was no escaping the onslaught of his punishing hand.
“Ow! Ow! Ow!”
“Hold still, little girl. It’s supposed to hurt, it’s a punishment.”
Although Josh wasn’t spanking her anywhere near as hard as Davo had done, his flattened palm felt as hard as a board and each smack left a lingering sting, increasing the burn that was quickly building to a fiery crescendo.
She thrashed frantically against his grip as panic began to well up within her. It didn’t matter that these smacks weren’t as hard as they could be; he had brought her to almost breaking point just as surely as Davo had, and just about as quickly.
“Stop! Please stop!” she cried, fighting for all she was worth. “Please,” she begged. “I can’t take this anymore!” Tears burned the backs of her eyes, threatening to escape. Every muscle in her body was rigid. She couldn’t do this. It was too much.
Josh did stop. He rested his hand on her bottom lightly, and rubbed her back with his other hand, murmuring soothing, comforting noises.
“Sssshhhh,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”
Slowly, she started to relax and believe his words. She was okay. Her bottom was a mass of pain, but she could breathe normally again now, and she wasn’t on the verge of panic anymore.
For ages, she didn’t know how long but it felt like forever, she remained exactly where she was, draped over Josh’s thighs, her hands on the floor, her toes on the floor on the other side of the chair. Her head hanging down, her hair falling in her face, her nose just centimetres from the dingy retro lino that should have been replaced years ago, if the faded patches from countless years of footsteps traipsing on it was anything to go by. Although she was naked, she wasn’t cold. Sun streaming in the window warmed the room, the rays kissing her bare skin.
Abruptly, Josh stopped rubbing and gave her stinging bottom a pat. “Go into the kitchen and get me a wooden spoon,” he commanded.
Carly reared back to look at him, horrified. “What? But… but… you’ve already spanked me!” she protested.
“Your punishment has only just begun, little girl,” he drawled in his deep, growly voice. “Now do as you’re told. Kitchen. Spoon. Now.”
He pointed, and she obeyed, using her hands to lever herself up off his thighs. Her legs were like jelly and she wobbled, unsteady on her feet but his big hands went around her waist and held her still, supporting her while her legs regained their strength.
“You’re okay, little girl,” he crooned, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles over her hips. “You’ve got a lot more punishment to come still, but we’ll take it slow. I’m not going to give you any more than what you can handle.”
“You don’t know what I can handle,” she mumbled, looking at the floor, nerves making her nauseous.
“I’ll watch you carefully, I promise. Didn’t I stop when you began to panic?”
Carly bit her lip before nodding. Yes, he had stopped, but he’d pushed her right to her limit before he did so. Was he going to do that again? Take her to the edge of panic? Threaten to make her lose control?
Josh released his hold on her and gave her a gentle shove. “Go on.”
Stark naked, she obeyed, walking as slowly as she dared into the kitchen, checking out the window for any sign of Mike. The last thing she wanted was for him to come home, to see her like this, naked, with her bottom on fire. Fortunately, there was nobody around. Good. A selection of cooking utensils sat in a stone crock on the corner of the bench near the stove and she reached for the lone wooden spoon standing amongst whisks, spatulas, slotted spoons, fish slices. She tapped it gently against her palm, testing the hardness of it, and swallowed hard. This was going to be bad.
“Come on, little girl, back across my knee.” Josh reached for her wrist, took the spoon from her, helped her back into position over his thighs. But this time, he locked his right leg over both of hers, pinning her in place. Already, she couldn’t breathe, she was so afraid.
The spoon was small, hard, smooth, as Josh rubbed it back and forth over her skin. Prickles sprang up where he touched and she held her breath, waiting. This was torture, the way he teased her, letting her feel the hardness of the implement, drawing the process out when all she wanted to do was get it over and done with. Every muscle in her body was taut, her buttocks clenched together tightly. Shivers went through her as he pressed the spoon between her closed cheeks, forcing her to open to him. As soon as she did, the spoon came down with a snap, branding her left butt cheek, and she shrieked in shock and pain and arched upward as the burn intensified. Several more smacks immediately followed, one more on her left buttock, two on the right. Carly kicked her feet helplessly. How could such a tiny little thing hurt so much? It felt like her butt was on fire. She was sure she would never sit again.
After a brief pause, the spanking continued, the spoon falling with loud cracks all over her bottom in a steady tattoo, the wicked implement finding its target no matter how much she wriggled and squirmed and kicked and yelled. Desperate to stop the onslaught, she reached back to cover her bottom with her hand, unable to take any more. Tears burned the backs of her eyes but she refused to cry. No. She would not give him that satisfaction. But she might not have a choice, if this went on for too much longer.
She felt Josh’s fingers close around her wrist. He lifted her hand away, turned it, smacked the spoon against her palm hard enough to make it sting. “This will hurt more on your fingers than it does on your backside, little girl. Keep your hands away.” She fought against him as he pressed the back of her hand into her bottom, holding her fingers flat against her scorched skin, opening up her palm as a perfect target for the stinging spoon. Three more times the wicked spoon landed, directly on her palm, setting fire to her skin.
“I’m sorry, Daddy!” she shrieked. “I will keep my hands away, promise!”
She made a fist against her burning palm as Josh pulled her hand into the small of her back and held it there, exposing her vulnerable rear end once again.
“No!” she cried. “Please stop! No more! I’m sorry, Daddy!”
“I know you are, little girl, but this isn’t finished yet.” Josh’s voice was gentle, almost remorseful, as he shifted her slightly, rearranging her legs, still holding tightly to the wrist that he had pinned against her back. She was trapped. Absolutely, completely trapped. The way he had her now, she couldn’t move at all and that knowledge freaked her out. Not being able to move was far scarier than the spanking. She couldn’t breathe. Inside, she was screaming, but outwardly she was frozen in fear. Lisa had been trapped like this, caught under her horse… The peace she’d felt before, out in the paddock, had all been a trick. A figment of her imagination, maybe. The result of too many tears, too much sun. Whatever. It hadn’t lasted. She wasn’t healed at all.
Trapped over Josh’s lap like this, completely helpless, terrible memories came flooding back, washing over her in waves. She clamped her eyes tightly shut, trying to block them out. Shook her head violently to chase them away. But all she could see was her best friend, trapped, unmoving, looking up at her with huge, terror-filled eyes, silently begging to be rescued. And all she could remember for those few awful, horrible seconds was being paralyzed by fear.
She had to escape. Desperately, she tried again to move, but Josh’s legs were a solid anchor; moving was impossible. A scream lodged itself in the back of her throat, stuck. Panic seized her, making her hyperventilate, terrified at being unable to move. She struggled mightily, pushing against his hand, his legs, desperate to get away. “Please, I can’t…” she gasped, barely able to get the words out.
“What can’t you do, baby girl?” Josh asked gently, obviously recognising her distress.
“Not being able to move,” she gasped. “I can’t do it. It freaks me out. I have to be able to move, even just a little bit.”
Josh relaxed his legs, freeing her slightly and instantly, the cloud of terror lifted. “Is that better?” he asked.
Carly exhaled slowly. She was okay. She could move. She could breathe. She wasn’t going to die. She wasn’t Lisa, stuck under her horse. She was with Josh, her high country daddy. She was safe.
She sucked in another breath, then let it out slowly. “Yes, Daddy. Thank you.”
Her bottom clenched involuntarily as Josh rubbed the spoon over her scorched skin, tapping the edge of it on the underside of her bottom. “You hold still then.”
Without waiting for an answer, the spanking resumed, crisp swats that fell in an alternating, repeating pattern of two on each cheek. He spanked slowly, thoroughly, spacing them out, letting her feel the full burn of each one before laying down the next. But even so, after a while the burning swats all melded together, the fire increasing to the point she couldn’t even feel each individual spank anymore, it just felt like a raging inferno burning hotter and hotter. Her resolve to hold back her tears crumbled and she sobbed quietly, bucking and squirming across his thigh, desperate for it to be over.
All of a sudden, it was. Josh dropped the spoon on the floor beneath his feet, the wooden utensil bouncing and skittering loudly across the lino so it was just out of reach. The clattering of the spoon across the floor shocked her out of her sobs, bringing her brutally back to reality. She pulled her wrist free from his grasp and tried to wipe away her tears with the back of her hand, knowing that she must look a mess, and hating it.
“You’re okay, little girl,” Josh crooned softly, rubbing her back in soothing circles, his other hand resting lightly on her hot bottom. He unhooked his leg from hers but she made no move to stand up. She was too sore. She was too shaky. Her whole body trembled from the punishment. How could a spanking hurt so much? How crazy had she been, getting turned on by the idea of being properly spanked by these men? It wasn’t sexy. It wasn’t fun. It wasn’t arousing. Not at all. It was just sore!
“Sit up now, little girl. Let me have a look at you.”
Gently, he helped her to stand up, turning her, drawing her to a sitting position perching gingerly on his left thigh. He pulled a folded hanky from his pocket and wiped her face, tenderly brushing away her tears, then holding the cloth against her nose.
“Blow,” he commanded softly. And she was so distressed that she obeyed without hesitation, even though the caring, embarrassing act made her feel like she was about three. That was about the age she’d been the last time someone had held a tissue for her to blow her nose.
Josh held her against his chest, comforting her, apparently completely oblivious to her shame. She’d never been more embarrassed in her life. Aside from earlier today, she didn’t cry. Not ever. Not when her best friend had died in her arms. Not at the funeral. Not in the harrowing months since. She’d been strong. So strong. She’d prided herself on her strength. And now here she was, a blubbering mess, fallen completely apart after nothing more than a spanking. She’d survived enormous grief while holding it together, yet a sore bottom had brought her to breaking point. It didn’t make any sense.
“Let me up.” Her voice was hoarse, sounding very unlike her own. Josh didn’t release his hold on her. She wiggled, pushing against the bonds of his strong arms that held her in place. “Let me up!” she repeated, more forcefully this time.
“How do you address me during a punishment?” Josh asked, the stern, scolding voice back again, as firm as before.
“Sir,” she quickly corrected. “Please let me up, sir.”
“I like Daddy better,” Josh said, planting a gentle kiss on her temple.
His soft, rumbly words went straight to her core. There was something about the way he spoke, the way he held her, the soft kiss of his lips that melted her. Forgetting her embarrassment, she snuggled against him, her cheek nestled in the hollow of his throat. Even with her stinging bottom, she felt so safe in his arms.
“So do I,” she whispered.
He released her, lifting her to her feet. “Go and pick up the wooden spoon and put yourself back over my knee,” he ordered gruffly.
Carly gasped sharply. “More?” she whimpered in disbelief.
“Yes,” Josh confirmed. “Your punishment is not over yet, little girl. It’s time to pay some attention to between your cheeks. I want my little girl humiliated properly and thoroughly punished.”
“You’re kidding,” she whispered. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
But Josh’s expression stayed severe. Carly swallowed nervously. He was serious.
“Afraid not, little girl,” he confirmed.
For a moment, she couldn’t move. Fear froze her to the spot. But gradually, curiosity took over. She’d always had a bit of a kinky streak and although she didn’t want it to be true, Josh’s words made her pussy clench with need. He was clearly a sadistic bastard, and her body craved his punishing touch. She didn’t want the pain or the humiliation, but she couldn’t stop the way her body yielded so completely to his dominance.
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.
The scrape of her scorched bottom across the roughness of his jeans as she stood up made her hiss in pain, reminding her of what she’d just endured at his hand. Why the heck was she not fighting against getting more? This was wrong. So wrong. But even as she tried to convince herself of that, her feet propelled her forward, her body bent itself down, her fingers wrapped around the handle of the spoon, and she scurried back to Josh. Despite the fact that the only sensible thing to do was run away, her body yielded to him, all by itself.
Josh held out his hand. “Come on, little girl, you know where I want you.”
She did know. Slowly, she stepped herself forward, closer to her doom. Josh took the spoon from her, grabbed her waist, tugged her down over his thigh. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart pounded.
“Over you go, little girl.”
He tipped her forward a bit more, adjusting her hips so she was positioned almost sideways to him. He seized her wrist, pressed her hand against her left buttock and pulled. “Spread your cheeks, hold it out as wide as you can. Don’t you let go,” he warned, a dangerous tone in his voice.
Shaking, she did as she was told, gripping her stinging bottom firmly, spreading herself wide for him. She whimpered when he pulled her other cheek sideways, opening her up wide. Her legs were like jelly, her body trembled. She wanted to stop but she couldn’t. The idea of being punished like this had been intriguing when Josh had first mentioned it, but now that she was actually holding herself wide open for him, it wasn’t intriguing at all. It was awful. Truly awful. She’d never been more embarrassed in her life. Displaying her like this, opening her wide to his perusal, proving his dominance, was unbelievably humiliating, but confusingly, her traitorous body was responding in ways no body should—her pussy spasmed, drenched, heat flooded from her core clear down to her toes. Her breasts ached. This wasn’t supposed to be happening, was it? She wasn’t supposed to be aroused—of course she wasn’t—this was a punishment.
She sucked in a breath sharply as the hard, cold wood was pressed against her, right on that sensitive, untouched skin. There was a short whoosh of air then a snap! and searing pain where the spoon had hit. She screamed and bucked across his lap but didn’t let go of the grip she had on her backside; although it was torture to be complicit in her punishment, she wasn’t brave enough to defy her daddy. Not when he was being so stern and strict and punishing her so intimately. The wicked spoon fell again and again, quick smacks that set the skin between her cheeks on fire, on both sides, making her squeal, kick, and squirm. Josh was relentless, smacking the tip of the spoon up and down between her cheeks, determined to leave a lasting impression.
“Keep holding yourself like that, good girl,” Josh commanded. “Now it’s time to teach that tight little hole of yours a lesson. I’m going to give it five whacks with the handle of this spoon and you are to keep holding yourself open. If you let go, we start again at one. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she sobbed, terror filling her. He was going to smack her hole. And he fully expected her to help him do it. “Why are you being so mean to me?”
Josh tapped the spoon against her burning bottom. “You know why. Hopefully I won’t ever have to be this harsh with you again.”
When the handle of the spoon landed against her bottom hole it was unlike any pain she’d ever felt before—it reverberated through her and radiated outward up her spine, down her legs. She felt her rosebud clench and relax, clench and relax, stunned at the wicked sensation. The cry that escaped her lips didn’t even sound like her; it sounded like a wounded animal.
The next two fell quickly, without even giving her a chance to breathe. She could tell Josh wasn’t hitting her hard, but the handle of the spoon felt like a stick of fire as it landed again and again, directly on her protesting anus, so precisely, even though she bucked and squirmed, desperate to escape.
“Good girl, you can let go now.” There was nothing comforting in his tone; it was gruff, almost clinical. Just another order amongst the many he’d issued. But she let go, stunned at the burn that radiated through her when her scorched skin touched itself. She whimpered and lay limp across his lap, sobbing pitifully, gasping for breath.
“I’m s-s-sorry, Daddy,” she blubbered, unable to even form words properly.
“I know you are, little girl. And you’re going to follow your safety rules from now on, aren’t you, little one?” He stroked her back in big, gentle circles, the touch of his hand comforting.
“Y-y-yes, D-D-Daddy,” she agreed.
This content is linked through SNP’s newsletter! Don’t miss out on all the free content! Add your email below!