Page 25 of Chance (Wild River Ranch #3)

S ome men looked forward to a morning cup of coffee. Chance looked forward to a morning taste of his girl’s pussy. When he got his hands on her, she would be one sorry Little girl if she didn't have a good reason for denying him his morning treat.

As he got dressed for the day, he headed downstairs to the kitchen, thinking she might be hungry or had decided to make him breakfast in bed. Yeah, that last thought was probably wishful thinking on his part.

The kitchen bustled with activity. Ranch life started early every day. Ruby was pulling a tray of biscuits from the oven while Boone sat at the table, drinking a cup of coffee. Trace and Tanner should already be in the field by now, and they probably wouldn't see Kenzie for another hour or two.

Throwing the question out to the room in general, Chance asked, "Has anyone seen Joy?"

Without looking up, Ruby said, "I haven't seen her this morning. But if I do, do you want me to tell her you're looking for her? "

Chance shook his head. "That's all right. I can find her on my phone."

Boone snorted. "I can't believe you put a tracker on a piece of jewelry. More than that, I can't believe she wears it."

Chance refused to rise to the bait his brother dangled with his comment. "She doesn't know the tracker's there." Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. "Not all of us are willing to embed a tracker in our Little girl’s arm.”

Boone snorted again. "Not all of us have a Little like Tildi. You wait until the Cosa Nostra tries to get to you through your woman."

Not willing to waste any more time arguing, Chance pulled out his phone and opened the app that would show him where his naughty gypsy was. When he saw the dot blinking on the pond behind the lodge, anger shot through him. With gritted teeth, he muttered, "Never mind. I found her."

He couldn't believe she had gone out to the pond with no one with her, after he specifically told her what would happen if she did. Looks like his little gypsy would be learning a lesson the hard way.

Not bothering to hide his urgency now, Chance jogged through the lodge and slammed out the back door.

Sure enough, Joy stood in the middle of the pond, scissoring her feet back-and-forth in a futile attempt to move.

If she wasn’t in possible danger, he'd be tempted to leave her stuck there.

It would serve her right for going out on the pond by herself in the first place.

He knew the second she spotted him stalking toward her. Her body snapped, ramrod straight. She stopped trying to move, instead holding out her hands, as if that would keep him from busting her tail.

"Daddy, I can explain."

This should be good. It wasn't going to save her backside, but it would probably be entertaining. "I'd love to hear you try, Gypsy. How can you explain finding you in the one place I told you never to be by yourself?"

"I was doing it for you, Daddy. I wanted to surprise you by being able to skate with you. I wanted to make you proud of me."

"I'm already proud of you, babygirl. Especially when you mind me. What would you have done if you had fallen and really hurt yourself?"

As if his words were magic, her feet shot out from under her, and she landed on her back with a resounding thump. "Gypsy, baby girl, are you OK?" he asked as he jogged across the ice toward her.

“I think so, Daddy," she said as she pushed up to a sitting position, wincing when her weight put pressure on her backside. "Only now my bottom hurts."

“Gypsy, your bottom hasn't even begun to hurt. When I get you back to our room, you'll know what a hurting bottom really feels like."

"But, Daddy!"

Helping her up, he growled, "Don't you Daddy me, little girl. You knew you weren't supposed to be here without me, and you came out here anyway. If you're gonna dance to that tune, you have to pay the fiddler."

As he pulled her off the ice, she wailed, "But I don't want to pay the fiddler!"

"Tough. You should've thought of that before you got on the pond without me."

When they got to their room, he helped her with her jacket and skates. He didn't bother sending her to the corner to think about what she’d done. She already knew what she’d done. No, he moved them straight toward the bed after one small stop in the bathroom for her wooden hairbrush.

Being Little and knowing what was about to happen, she refused to walk. Unfortunately for her, socks on a wooden floor made pulling her behind him easy.

She attempted, unsuccessfully, to pull her hand from his grasp. "You can't do this, Daddy! I didn't get hurt! I was trying to get better for you! It's not fair?—"

"Not much about life is fair, Gypsy. But this is. This you earned. I hope you enjoy what you work so hard for."

Reaching the bed, he sat down and pulled her over his thigh. With one hand on her back, he leaned back, undid his belt, and pulled it out of the loops before laying it on the bed beside her hairbrush. She promptly burst back into tears.

"It was an accident, Daddy!" She lied through her tears. "I didn't mean to!"

"Lying is not going to help your cause, naughty girl. You did not accidentally put on skates. You did not accidentally go outside and get onto the pond. Those weren't accidents. They were choices. And not very good ones."

His Little girl was a fighter, he'd give her that. She squirmed and struggled as he wrestled her across his thighs. When she didn't calm down, he shifted her long enough to clamp one of his legs over hers. At least now she couldn't hurt herself by falling off his lap.

When he caught her flailing arms and pinned both in one hand at the small of her back, she gave up the fight and went limp across his lap.

"This spanking is not because Daddy is mad at you. This spanking is the consequence of bad choices on your part to help you remember not to make those choices again.”

Joy jerked as his hand grabbed the waist of her pants and panties and tugged them down past her knees. In one last attempt to avoid her punishment, she finally said the one thing she should have said from the start. "I'm sorry, Daddy! Really, really, really sorry! "

Too little, too late. “There's a difference between regret and remorse. Let’s see if you can figure out what that difference is."

He stared down at the luscious, if somewhat vulnerable, curves of her backside. Feeling generous, he rubbed the skin of her ass as a warm-up. If they had to repeat this spanking for the same reason, she'd find out just how generous he'd been. Hopefully, she'd never know.

She began to cry before he landed the first swat, tensing in anticipation. "You're gonna want to relax, little gypsy. If you tense your bottom, you'll wind up much sorer." Resting his hand on her buttocks, he asked, "What is the rule about skating on the pond?"

She sniffled. "N-Never get on or in the p-pond without Daddy."

“Right. And why did Daddy make that rule?"

“Because," she said, her breath hitching with her tears. "Because it's not safe."

"That's right. Never go to the pond without Daddy. Ever. No exceptions. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes, Daddy."

“Just so I know you understand, repeat what I just said."

"N-Never go to the pond w-without Daddy, ever, no exceptions. But please, Daddy, please just use your hand. I've never been spanked with a brush or a belt before."

"Whether you earn a belt or hairbrush spanking is up to you, Gypsy. Putting yourself in danger will find you in this position, getting your bottom blistered with the brush. Lie and you’ll earn stripes with my belt every time."

"But I don't want a spanking."

"Well, if you did, it wouldn't be much of a deterrent, now would it?"

“But if I don't want it, can I say tambourine?"

Her question gave him pause. He would never want to do something that truly harmed her in any way. He knew spankings, while definitely painful, would not harm her. At the same time, he wanted her to know she could use her safe word whenever she truly needed it.

"Nobody wants a spanking, Gypsy. That's why they're a good consequence. But even if you don't want it, do you think you deserve it?"

She stayed silent so long he thought she wasn't going to answer him. But then, sobbing as she spoke, she stuttered out a whined, “Y-Y-Yes."

"Do you think it's good to use your safeword to get out of a punishment you deserve?"

Her shoulders shook. "No, Daddy."

"I don't think so, either. Safewords are not there to help you avoid the consequences of your bad behavior. I'm proud of you for realizing that." He gave her bottom a few more rubs. "All right, let's get this over with."

When he lifted his hand, she tensed her bottom again. He couldn't blame her for that. He brought his hand down with a hard smack right in the center of both cheeks.

It was good he held her legs in place, because she started kicking immediately. She cried out with every swat, her fingers clawing at the comforter as she tried to pull herself off his lap.

As her backside darkened from pale to pink, she cried out, promising to be good and begging him to stop. When she finally realized that wasn't going to work, she buried her face in the comforter and cried.

She cried for a long time because he did not want to have to teach this lesson again. When he thought of the ice cracking and her disappearing beneath the waters, he redoubled his efforts and smacked her even harder.

Once her cheeks had darkened into a blushing rose, he shifted his attention to the tops of her defenseless thighs.

“Please, Daddy. Please. I'm sorry!" She continued to wail. "I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry! Please, Daddy, please stop! That’s enough! "

Unfortunately for her, he'd been a Daddy long enough to know the difference between not wanting any more swats and truly being sorry for what she'd done. She still didn’t understand the difference between regret and remorse.

"Those swats were for breaking your rule about minding Daddy," he said, reaching for the hairbrush. "You're getting ten smacks with the hairbrush for doing something so dangerous and putting your health and safety at risk. That will earn you the hairbrush every time."

Without pausing, he delivered ten sharp smacks with the hairbrush, five to each cheek, all in the same spot. By the time he was finished, she was howling.

Tossing the hairbrush back on the bed, he released her hands. Sliding her off his lap, he shifted her so she was bent over the side of the bed. His mattress was so high, she had to stand on her tiptoes to remain in place.

He wished he could stop right then. Her cries wrenched his heart. Every tear was precious to him, but he had one final lesson to drive home.

Reaching for the belt, he folded it in half and wrapped the buckle end around his fist. "Not only did you intentionally break a rule and put your safety in danger, but you also lied to Daddy about it when you got caught. Is lying to Daddy ever okay?"

Sobbing, she shook her head. "No, Daddy.”

“That’s right. We never ever lie. I will never lie to you. And I expect you never to lie to me. Lying creates distrust. It ruins relationships. I love you too much to let that happen. You will always receive stripes with the belt when you lie. That's how seriously I take this."

He drew the belt across the under curve of her bottom where her backside met her thighs. "This is a count of three. I don't ever want to have to do this again."

"You won't, Daddy," she said, and he knew she meant it .

Deciding not to draw this out, he brought the belt down in three sharp, quick swats, covering the top, middle, and bottom of her sit spots. As soon as he finished, he tossed the belt to the floor. Lifting his Little girl, he carried her to the couch, holding her in his arms until her tears slowed.

He stroked her hair, pressing kisses to her forehead, and assuring her of his love. He would've held her for the rest of the day, but his phone alerted him to a text. Knowing it probably concerned ranch business, he checked and saw that it was from Javier Barajas, his ranch foreman.

The text was simple, straight to the point. Bison out on the Castelo Place. Not sure how many. Calling everyone in to get them back in the pasture and repair the fence.

There were at least thirty bison in the Castelo pasture.

Glancing at her, he kissed his little girl again before saying, "Daddy has to go catch some bison who got out of their pasture. I want you to stay in the lodge or in the yard close to the building. No wandering off. When I get back, we’ll think of something fun to do.

Eyes to me, little one.” He waited until he had her attention before adding, "I love you, Gypsy. All my heart."

Giving him a watery smile, she answered, "All my soul." It was something they had started saying at some point during the past week. He liked it. She must have as well because they said the words every time they had to separate.

Knowing he had to go and hating it, he took her hand and let her downstairs.

All the girls were in the kitchen, experimenting with coffee flavors and decorating heart-shaped cookies.

Knowing he was leaving her in good hands, he headed to the barn to go re-pasture his bison, already planning what they’d do when he got back.