“I want you to pull your onesie right up to your waist.”
Oh man. This was embarrassing. But she reached down obediently and drew it up so he got a good view of her pussy.
“Good girl. Now lay yourself over Daddy’s lap.”
He helped her position herself over his lap, with her torso and legs well supported. Then he tucked the bottom of the onesie up out of the way. He rubbed her cheeks.
“It’s twenty with my hand followed by ten with the paddle. Can you keep your hands down and out of the way?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Remember you can say red at any time and I will stop. I’ll also check in with you. Are you ready?”
Ready? Would she ever be ready? But she knew she wanted to do something to alleviate her guilt over worrying him so much.
“Yes, Daddy.”
He started immediately. And it was no warm-up. These spanks were hard and fast. Ten were given in quick succession and she barely managed to catch her breath. By the time he stopped to rub, tears were already coursing down her cheeks.
“How are you doing, baby?”
“H-hurts, Daddy.”
“I know, teeny,” he said with sympathy. “And we’re only part way through, I’m afraid. Is anything else hurting? No numbness? Dizziness?”
“No, Daddy,” she replied.
“Next ten.”
She was sobbing and kicking her feet as he delivered these next ones. She had to fight hard not to reach back and cover her poor sore bottom cheeks as he wailed into them.
By the time he stopped again, she had soaked the coverlet with her tears. Her sobs filled the room.
“Just ten to go, teeny,” he told her with regret.
The smack of the paddle sounded harsh in the room. And she cried with each slap. By the time it had finished, her bottom felt like it was on fire. She wished she could rub away the pain.
“Shh. Shh. Shh.”
Linc turned them both so they were lying on the bed. He was on his back with her pressed to his side, her head on his chest.
“Hush, baby. It’s all over. You’ve been punished and forgiven. It’s all done. Good girl. Good girl.”
He held her until her sobs died and she was relaxed against him.
“How you feeling, baby?”
“Like I’ve just been spanked and paddled,” she replied dryly.
His chest moved as he laughed. “Fair enough. Ready for the rest of your punishment?”
“Daddy, don’t you think I’ve been punished enough? I’ve learned my lesson. Honest.”
“Glad to hear that, teeny. But this will just help solidify it. Come on. Fifteen minutes in time-out then afterwards, Daddy will let you do some crafting.”
“Can’t Princess Nana do this part?”
“And why should Princess Nana be punished when you were the one who was naughty?”
“’Cause I’m a princess,” she explained.
“Do you think that a princess doesn’t get punished when she’s naughty?” he asked as he helped her sit up. She winced and immediately jumped onto her feet.
“Well, obviously that’s not the case,” she replied as she rubbed her sore bottom.
“Uh-uh, no rubbing,” he said sternly.
“Drat.” She crossed her arms over her chest, giving him big eyes. “But Daddy, I don’t think a princess should hafta do time-out. She should be able to tag in.”
“Tag in?”
“Yeah, like in wrestling.”
“You watch wrestling?” He raised his eyebrows.
She blushed. “Sometimes.”
“I’m surprised. I didn’t think you’d be interested in the sport.”
“It’s a sport?” she asked with mock-surprise. “I was just there for the muscles and the tight outfits.”
He growled. “Brat. Right, bend over the edge of the bed. You’re going to be plugged while you’re in time-out.”
“I say Princess Nana should be plugged.”
“Princess Nana doesn’t have a bottom hole.”
“Lucky Princess Nana.”
“Marisol, face the bed, bend over and put your elbows on the mattress.”
With a sigh, she did as she was told. She heard him squirting out some lube then felt him part her bottom cheeks and place some lube on her puckered hole.
The cool plug was pressed to her back hole, she relaxed, taking a deep breath in and then letting it out slowly as he situated the plug in her bottom. He helped her stand up and then led her to the naughty corner.
“Right, you can sit on the stool. You might want to rest your thighs on it rather than your bottom then lean forward and place your nose in the corner. That’s it.”
She ended up with her ass hanging out over the side of the naughty girl stool, which was going to give him a good view of her tender cheeks, with the butt plug poking out between them.
“That’s a pretty sight,” he said with satisfaction. “I’ll start the timer. Fifteen minutes.”
She sighed. She really thought Princess Nana was getting out of this on a technicality.
This year, she decided, she was going to ask Santa for a doll with a bottom hole.
34
Ed looked up as Kiesha opened the door with a frown. He’d just gotten off the phone with a friend down in Dallas. He was trying to track down who that asshole cop had been years ago who’d scared Marisol.
He groaned. “Please don’t tell me Rosalind is back.”
She’d been calling constantly and trying to see him since she’d come in the other day to report Marisol missing. He didn’t know what her angle was, but she was driving him nuts. Today had been blissfully quiet. Until now.
Kiesha pulled the purple sucker from her mouth. “Nah, it’s not her.”
“Thank God.”
“It’s the FBI.”
“What? What do you mean, the FBI? There’s FBI agents here?” he asked.
“Yeah, well, kind of.”
“What?” he asked again, trying to be patient.
“One of them is FBI, another is DEA and I didn’t hear what the other one said.”
“What do they want?”
“They want to talk to you.”
He sighed, striving for patience. “Then send them in.”
She turned and strode off. Two men and one woman entered his office soon after. One of the men was big, dark-skinned and serious looking. The other man was smaller with a big smile. The woman between them was tiny. She was dressed in an ugly gray suit with stockings and flat, brown shoes. Her dark hair was pulled back in a braid. Her skin was smooth, her cheekbones high. She was gorgeous.
He turned his gaze from her as the slim-built man held out his hand. “Hi, Sheriff, I’m Jackson Lyle. I’m from the Treasury Department. These are my colleagues, Bronson Clay from the DEA and Georgina James from the FBI.”
“Please, call me Ed. Have a seat. What can I do for you all?”
Bronson had closed the door behind them and chose to stand, leaning against the wall. Both Georgina and Jackson sat.
“We’ve been tasked with investigating Rosalind Perez. I believe you know her?” Jackson asked.
“Of course,” Ed replied. “She lives here. Owns a beauty spa. A task force to investigate one woman?”