Page 12 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)
Chapter Eleven
Nicole
The sound of Professor Faulkner’s hand connecting with Cassie’s ass is so loud it makes me jump. Daddy Byron’s arms tighten around me, and I press myself back against him.
Cassie’s loud cries echo around the room as the professor’s hand continues to fall, each swat turning her flesh a darker and darker pink.
And strangely enough, I almost feel sorry for her.
Not that she doesn’t deserve the spanking she’s getting, because she does, but it must be so embarrassing to be spanked like that in front of so many people.
“Ow, ow, ow, I’m sorry, Sir! I won’t be bad again!”
“I’m very glad to hear that,” Professor Faulkner responds without so much as pausing the rise and fall of his hand. “Because the next time I have to punish you for so much as looking at someone in a mean or bullying way, I will add a dozen with the cane to your punishment, little girl.”
The cane? Oh, man. That sounds… awful.
Or at least, it should. My pussy, however, doesn’t seem to get the memo that being caned is a fate to be avoided and it spasms in response to Professor Faulkner’s threat. Or maybe it’s spasming in response to watching Cassie get spanked.
Either way, it feels wrong. Taboo, but in the most delicious way, and I find myself shifting from foot to foot as I watch the scene in front of me unfold.
By the time Professor Faulkner ends Cassie’s punishment, she’s limp over his knee, her loud sobs filling the room. And I’m nearly about to come in my diaper without anyone even touching me.
The professor helps Cassie to her feet, turning her to face me. Her cheeks are splotchy and tear-stained, and it surprises me to see real regret in her eyes.
“I’m s-sorry I made f-fun of you for wearing a d-diaper, Nicky,” she manages to get out around her hiccupping sobs.
For a moment, I’m too fascinated by the sight of my bully brought to this state to respond, but Daddy Byron nudges me forward. “Don’t you have something to say, Nicole?”
“Oh. Right. Um, it’s okay. Apology accepted. And I’m sorry I pushed you down. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“I don’t see why not,” Marni mutters, earning her a sharp glare from Miss Scarlett.
Professor Faulkner pulls Cassie onto his lap, cuddling her close as she continues to cry. “That was a very good apology, Cassandra. I’m very proud of you.”
On Cassie’s face I see the same light I feel whenever my Daddies praise me, but it’s mixed with a confusion that breaks my heart. “You are?”
“Yes, little one. You did something very naughty, but you took your spanking well and you made amends. So yes, I am very proud of you, but you still have to finish the rest of your punishment.”
Her shoulders slump. “But everyone will know I got spanked! It’s embarrassing .”
“Good. Then maybe the next time you want to embarrass someone else, you’ll remember this punishment.”
“Yes, Sir,” she answers with a sigh.
Behind me, Daddy Byron bends down and scoops me up into his arms again. “Now that we’ve gotten that taken care of, we have our own naughty Little girl to deal with. Thank you, Grant. And if you need any help moving her things over to your apartment, let us know and we’ll call Thomas to come help.”
“Will do.”
“Wait!” Sitting up on Professor Faulkner’s lap, Cassie glares at us. “She got to watch my punishment but I don’t get to watch hers? That’s not fair.”
“It’s entirely fair,” Daddy Ezra says, his voice still cold enough to chill the air around us.
“Nicole did not intentionally embarrass you in front of all your peers. She will be punished for pushing you and running away, but no, I will not subject her to further embarrassment for your enjoyment. And if you have a problem with that, I’m sure Professor Faulkner can help you see the error of your ways. ”
That spanking must have really made an impression, because Cassie’s eyes go wide and her head whips back and forth. “No, Sir. I’m good.”
“Good.”
Turning on his heel, Daddy Ezra strides from the room and Daddy Byron follows, still carrying me in his arms. None of us speak as we make our way back to our building and up to our apartment.
“Byron, I think our naughty girl could use some time in the corner to think about why she’s about to be punished while we discuss exactly how to deal with her.”
Daddy Byron sighs softly, but carries me over to an empty corner and places me on my feet. “Hands on your head, princess. And for the love of god, don’t move unless you want to see how creative Daddy Ezra can really get.”
I don’t, so I immediately shift into position, linking my hands together behind my head as I stare at the corner.
“Good girl. We’ll be back in a bit.”
Ezra
I am acutely aware of my boy following me into the bedroom, the weight of his judging stare on me as I open our “toy box” and pull out what I’ll need for the punishment I have in mind.
“If you have something to say, boy, say it.”
“Don’t you think she’s been through enough today?”
Turning away from the armoire where we keep all of our implements and various other toys, I raise a brow.
“I think our naughty girl needs to learn she can’t just run away from her problems. That’s how she ended up homeless and without transportation, hundreds of miles from her original destination.
She needs to learn to think before she acts. ”
“I know, it’s just… she had such a hard day, Ezra.”
My stomach twists at the worry on my boy’s face. “She has. But we can’t just let her off the hook.”
“We could. Just this once, we could.”
“You know how I feel about that.”
“I know you’re a fucking hardass.”
Color rushes to his cheeks as soon as the words slip free, but to my surprise, he doesn't drop his gaze to the floor like I expected. He continues to meet my eyes, his own pale gray burning with righteous anger.
Because I know beneath the anger is that worry I saw earlier, I resist the urge to scold him.
And, if I’m being honest, he has a point. I am a hardass, for damn good reason.
“You’re right. Do you know why I’m such a hardass, especially when it comes to our princess?”
“Why?”
“Because Little girls learn best with structure. Discipline. Boundaries. What happens when she decides to run again and we’re not around to stop her? What if she hurts herself? What if someone else hurts her because we decided to let it go ‘just this once’?”
Byron’s expression softens and he takes a step forward, reaching for me. “You can’t punish her because you’re afraid of what might happen.”
“I’m not. I’m punishing her because she broke the rules.”
“There were extenuating circumstances.”
“Maybe. But she still needs to know there are consequences, even when she’s feeling upset. Even more when she’s feeling upset. She needs to be able to trust us, so that when she’s too upset to think clearly she knows that our rules are absolute.”
Sighing, he scrubs a hand over his face.
“You’re right. I know you’re right. It just breaks my heart to have to hurt her after everything she went through today.
And I guess it sort of feels like it’s our fault.
We put her in that class, we put her in a position to be bullied and made fun of.
It feels wrong to punish her when it was at least partly our fault. ”
Because his words echo my own previous thoughts, I can’t really argue. “I don’t disagree. So maybe we compromise.”
A ghost of a smile plays on my boy’s lips. “You? Compromise? Do you even know what that word means?”
“I know that you are gunning for a very sore ass inside and out tonight if you keep sassing me.”
Now he does glance down, the color in his cheeks darkening. “Sorry, Sir.”
“And for your information, yes, I do know what compromise means. That's why I generally don’t indulge in it.”
“Now who’s being sassy?” he grumbles.
“Still you, boy. Would you like to hear my offer, or would you prefer I take care of our little princess myself and then give you the attention you so obviously need from me?”
Looking properly chastised, he lifts his gaze back to mine. “I want to hear your compromise, Sir.”
“Good boy. Our Little girl needs a punishment, but more than that, she needs to understand who we are. Who she is to us. She needs to understand that our claim on her is complete and absolute, so that the next time she feels the urge to run, she will remember to run to her Daddies instead of away from us.”
A small smile curves my boy’s lips. “I’m listening.”