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She mentally groaned but was smart enough to keep it in her head rather than someplace he could hear.

“Blow out again, little girl. That’s right, push out while Daddy puts this plug in place.”

She did her best to do what he said. It was definitely harder this time, stretching her hole as the plug got wider. Just when it bordered on uncomfortable, it slid inside her and settled.

He twisted and tugged, and just like before it sent unbidden ribbons of pleasure through her core.

“Let Daddy know if this starts to hurt.” He tapped the base of the plug, and of its own volition her back arched and her bottom lifted.

Then his hand was rubbing her cheeks, warming the skin. “This is the only warm up you’re getting. Naughty girls who keep important information from their Daddies don’t get warm up spanks.”

That was all the warning he gave her. True to his word he withdrew his hand bringing it back down with a heavy smack.

“Ow!” she yelped, more out of surprise.

He quickly fell into a painfully steady rhythm. He made even more work of covering her entire backside, including the center where the plug was nestled. After the first five swats, it lost its arousing allure. When he spanked the butt plug, he also spanked her pussy, which hurt on a whole different level.

Why in the world it also made her wetter, she had no idea. But it did.

Soon, she stopped trying to predict where his palm would land. All she could think about was how she wouldn’t be in this position if she’d just told him about those stupid texts. It was her own fault she was clinging to the edge of her stool for dear life, having her butt busted like a child.

His hard hand caught the undercurve of her cheek and it was all she could do not to reach back and cover her sit spots with her hands before he smacked them again. Without being told, she knew that was a bad idea.

Owie. She sucked in air through gritted teeth and tried not to yell. She tried bouncing on her toes, but when she did, he focused all his attention on the tops of her thighs.

Top right cheek to bottom left, then top left to bottom right. He didn’t miss an inch of her rear end. Just what she’d always wanted, an equal opportunity spanker.

He smacked back and forth, up and down with the steadiness of a marching band. The stinging of her skinned backside—for surely there was not much left—had her blinking back tears.

Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. She panted trying to hold in her emotions. She’d earned this. She should take it like a trooper. Stiff upper lip and all that. Part of her was afraid if she made too much noise he would stop.

His swats grew harder and faster, and the stinging grew hotter and more painful. No wonder they called it a hiding. She must not have any hide left on her bottom by now.

“Ow!” The cry escaped her lips after a particularly hard smack to her thigh.

Forget sting. This freakin hurt. Like, a lot. After that first cry escaped, it was as if the flood gates were opened.

“Owie, ouch! Oh, oh! Not so hard, Daddy! No, wait! Not there, Daddy. Please, not there!”

He didn’t slow down or soften his spanks. When she tried to stand up, he placed his left hand on the small of her back and held her in place.

Another minute and she forgot all about being a trooper with a stiff upper lip. Swinging back with the opposite arm from where he stood, she reached back. Not to cover her bottom, but to try to catch his spanking hand.

In seconds he had her palm stretched out flat, giving it three hard smacks before securing it to the side of her hip with his other hand. Hugging her against him, he focused all his attention on her sit spots.

“No, Daddy! Please. Ow. Please! Not there, Daddy. It hurts there.”

He snorted at that. “Well goodness, bluebell. We wouldn’t want that.”

But he evidently did because he kept right on smacking that tender strip of flesh.

“I’m sorry, Daddy!” she shrieked. “I won’t ever keep secrets again. Not ever!”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” he said.

Taking that as a hint, she tried everything. She promised to be good. She said she was sorry. She begged. It did no good. He was a Daddy on a mission. Relentless.

Finally, something inside her snapped. Tears poured down her face. And not very gentle, demure tears. These were wracking sobs, very gut wrenching, very snot inducing tears. Something that had been dammed up inside her for years, maybe decades, broke free and was washed away by her cathartic, cleansing weeping.