Did I deserve the forty lashings Daddy promised me when he got home?
Yes... I suppose.
Was I going to make the situation much worse for myself?
Also, yes.
For some reason, Daddy didn't think sending a shipment of forty dildos to his office was as good a birthday surprise as I did.
Silly Daddy.
I had the shop package them up so pretty, too. Bright pink paper, with cute, cartoon penises all over. They even agreed to add a helium balloon that read, “For the biggest cunt in the world!”.
Now wait! Before you go and take his side, he started it!
First, he flipped me out of the canoe when I kept sticking my tongue out at him.
Then, THEN, he wouldn't let me watch Rogue One one more time before bed.
And finally, he said 'no'.
To ice cream!
There's only so much a girl can take... and now I have to take forty lashes with Daddy's belt. I don't understand the justice system in this household.
Unless...
I hide it!
I grab the thick leather belt from his drawer and roll it tight. He knows all my tricksy hiding places now. I need to get creative.
Stopping in the kitchen for a quick, mid-shenanigans snack, I grab the jar of pickles, a cheese string, and the tin of whipped cream out.
Don't worry, they don't all go together. I just can't decide what I want... so a bit of each it is!
Oooh, that's it! The fridge!
I tuck the belt waaaaay in the back, behind the now half-eaten pickles and other condiments, then slide the milk and whipped cream in front of them.
Perfect - Uh oh! He's home!
I race to the sofa and pull BoBear onto my lap. If all else fails, maybe he'll save me.
Daddy's voice booms from the doorway before he's even pulled his key from the knob.
“Where are you?!”
“Hi, Daddy! Welcome home from work.”
“Don't you 'Hi daddy' me,” he growls, tossing his keys on the counter. His sleeves are already rolled up as he points to the bedroom. “Get your fucking ass across that bed.
Now!”
My eyes are wider than Grogu's, as I stare up at him, half afraid to move. “But-”
He's in front of me, my tank top in his fist before I can get another word out. “What did you call me?”
“Daddy?”
“On. The. Balloon.”
“Oh.”
His grip on my top tightens. I look at everything but him.
“What did it say?” he repeats.
My lips disappear, bitten hard between my teeth. I can't say it. I can't! Not without giggling or dying.
“Forty one.”
“No!”
“Forty two.”
“Daddy, no!”
“Fifty lashes!”
“For the biggest cunt in the world,” I whisper.
His chest swells with a large inhale and I
shrink under his glare.
“Bed. Now.”
His voice is far too controlled for the breath he just took in. He is both the smooth crust that forms atop lava, and the burning sea beneath.
I'm gonna die.
Scampering to the bedroom, I can hear him hot on my tail. My tail that's about to be obliterated.
As I strip and assume the position, I hear the drawer open. My heart sinks. I should not have doubled down. How am I going to explain myself?
Daddy takes me by the hair, dragging me from the bed to the floor. He pulls me down to my knees, my face forced up towards his rage-glinting eyes. He says nothing, just burns a hole into my mind with that stare.
“Mm-hmm,” is all he says before leaving the room.
I don't dare move a muscle. “Mm-hmm” what? Does he have a backup belt?
I hear the fridge door open. Jars and bottles clink and clank.
“Son of a bitch,” I whisper to myself.
Defeated, I move back to the bed
for my beating. But a moment later, I'm yanked back to the floor. A quick slap stings my cheek. “What the-”
Daddy's cock is in my mouth before I can finish the question, his firm hand pushing hard against the back of my head. Then, finding a new vicious use for his belt, he fixes it around us both, locking me onto his quickly growing erection.
There's no slack in the strap that binds us, but that doesn't stop him from thrusting deeper and deeper into my throat. I'm salivating at both ends now.
“Tell me what that balloon said now, you little slut.”
Barely able to breathe, let alone speak, I whimper around his cock.
“Those weren't words. Say the fucking words.”
Fully gagging now, tears and drool stream down my face as I try to moan out the words that have cursed me.
“Again.”
This is so much worse than writing lines. Repeating my not-so-clever joke might well be the death of me! Gasping for breath, I repeat the words. Then again, and again. I've drooled all down myself now, saliva mixing with the slick juices between my thighs.
Daddy cinches the strap tighter as the head of his cock swells and its shaft throbs against my tongue. His hot cum floods me, leaving me with no choice but to hold my breath and swallow. There is no quick release on this ride. Making sure I gag on every last drop, his cock doesn't leave my mouth until he's properly finished.
My face is a mess, as is the floor beneath me. But I'm given no praise or pat on the head. There is no “good girl” today.
“Bend over the bed.”
Still panting and trying to recover, I crawl past the footboard and haul myself up. I already want to cry and the belt hasn't even hit me yet.
The first smack is hard, cracking the air like a gunshot. My whole body shakes as I count out “One”.
My ass is on fire, each lash hitting it like gasoline. I'm counting into the blanket now, my tears and drool soaking the cotton.
Daddy stops at forty. An act of mercy rarely seen when it comes to punishment.
Grabbing my hair, he pushes my face into the bed as his hand molests my dripping pussy.
“I didn't say you could get wet,” he growls into my ear. “Now go out to the car and get that goddamn box of dildos. You're using all of them. Tonight.”
I reach for my discarded top, but his foot stomps onto the hem. “You're not allowed clothing for the rest of the day.”
“But how can I go to the car?”
“Naked.”
“But the neighbours!”
“Will learn what a filthy little shit you are sooner or later.”
I huff out a breath and wrap my arms across myself. “Daddy?”
“What?”
“How did you know?”
“You left your pickle fork on the counter and still have a bit of whipping cream in your hair. I figured the fridge is probably the only place you haven't tried hiding the belt before.”
“Fuck me.”
“If you're lucky. Now go get the box.”