Page 62 of Double Daddies (Dirty Daddies Anthologies #8)

“I was afraid… of getting spanked,” I admit, wincing as I voice my worst fear aloud. Of course, at this point I’m pretty sure I’ve already hammered the final nail in that coffin.

Ryle and Ben share a glance, but when they’re looking at me again, their faces are impossible to read.

“Which wouldn’t be a good idea, anyway, because I’m pregnant,” I say with as much conviction as I can muster. Then I hold my breath, hoping they happen to agree with me.

“Talk about using her pregnancy as a way out,” Ben says, and Ryle nods his agreement.

“Clearly she deserves a spanking,” Ryle says.

I can feel the heat of embarrassment rush to my face. I can’t believe they’re doing it again, discussing my fate like I’m not mere inches away!

“Clearly, she needs one. I haven’t spanked her since before you were in the picture.”

This is absolutely unbearable. If I could magically summon another dimension to open up, I would jump in without hesitation and hope whatever species lived there didn’t believe in spanking!

“Is it unsafe for the baby, do you think?” Ryle questioned.

I press my lips together and stare at the floor, hoping I look properly chastised instead of like I’m hoping the odds fall in my butt’s favor.

“I’m really not sure. I mean, we’ve talked about a hand spanking, definitely. But I think this situation calls for a bit more than that,” Ben muses aloud.

“The lying,” Ryle supplies.

“The yelling and defiance,” Ben adds. “She needs to understand that just because she’s carrying our child, doesn’t mean she gets to do whatever she wants.”

I look up, about to object when I see both Daddies are staring right back at me.

Is it a trap? Are they trying to see if I’ll yell again?

“Call your brother, Cami.”

This is the most shocking thing Ben could say, and my mouth drops open.

“Now,” he adds, pulling out his cellphone and handing it to me.

“B… but… why?” I ask, staring at him, dumbfounded.

“We need an expert’s opinion, and clearly we can’t go by what you say,” Ryle answers for him.

The nerve! The audacity! Who the hell does he think…

And then I realize that I lied to them, and all of my furious thoughts grind to a sudden halt. Still, I spear Ryle with a glare, then give Ben one of his very own as I dial the number.

“Put it on speakerphone,” Ben instructs, clearly unperturbed by my wrath.

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter as it begins to ring.

Please don’t pick up. Please don’t pick up .

“Hello?”

Kingslay has never answered on the second ring in his life, and the day he does has to be today?

“Hey, bro, how are you?” Ben replies.

“Hey, Ben, I’m doing better than you.”

He laughs. “How do you figure?”

“Well, my team is going to the play-offs.”

Ben and Ryle exchange grins, but I couldn’t care less about whose team is going to the playoffs.

“That’s good, I’m glad to hear,” Ryle says.

“How’s my sister? Are you taking good care of her and my future niece or nephew?”

“Well, that’s actually why I called, man,” Ben offers.

“Uh-oh. What’s going on?”

I try to close my ears, but still manage to hear Ben relay the news of my missed appointment and how I lied to try and cover it up.

Not only that, but then Ryle tells him how I got snarky and then shouted.

If they were talking to anyone else, I would pray that person would remind them that I’m dealing with a lot right now.

But Kingslay is a matter-of-fact man. Ben and Ryle are only going to get exactly what they’re asking for.

“I see.” My brother’s voice sounds grave. “And you’re telling me because…?”

“Ryle and I were looking for some advice. Your sister said that being pregnant should eliminate certain consequences from the repertoire. What do you think?”

I wince and wish with everything I have that Kingslay will remember the times I covered for him when we were younger.

“I think everything is on the table, as long as you’re careful.”

Either he doesn’t remember, or he doesn’t feel sorry for me after hearing my list of offenses.

“Any bleeding? Cramps? Pelvic pain?” my brother asks.

Ben glances at me, and reluctantly, I shake my head. “Nope, we’re good there.”

“How’s her blood pressure?”

“Good,” Ryle replies.

“Okay, then I’d say just monitor her after, and everything should be fine.”

“Thanks, Kingslay. And hey, you should probably stop celebrating—the game was a week ago, and you didn’t play in it,” Ben states with a grin.

Kingslay’s booming laugh fills the room so that even my lips twitch. “Bye, bro, bye Ryle.”

Once he hangs up, I know it’s time to face the music.

Ben

“Come here, Cami.”

She’s been standing close this entire time, but this is the signal I know she’s been dreading. It means her reckoning has come. She takes the teeniest, tiniest baby steps she can manage, but I don’t say anything.

“Did you hear everything he said?”

With teary eyes, she nods.

“And you know what that means?”

“It means you’re going to spank me,” she whispers.

I nod, and without another word I move my chair to face Ryle’s. Then when I sit, our knees are touching. It makes an altar of sorts.

Cami cringes. “What… you want me to…”

“Yep.” I pat my knee meaningfully. When we incorporated domestic discipline into our relationship, it was about Cami feeling safe and protected. I’m sure neither one of us could have imagined this moment.

Slowly, she bends over until her belly is pressing into my knees.

I look at Ryle to make sure he feels secure on his end, and when he nods, I reach for her shorts.

I pull them down with the same excruciating pace she used getting over our laps.

It’s good for her to wait, to think about what comes next, to dread the sting she knows is coming.

“I want you to think about this next time you’re tempted to lie,” I tell her.

“I will. I promise I’ll never do it again!” She cranes her neck and looks back, eyes pleading. “If you don’t spank me, I promise I’ll be so good. I’ll eat my protein, and drink more water, and I won’t complain one bit!”

“You’ll be a good girl either way,” Ryle answers. “Because those things are to keep you safe and are non-negotiable.” He reaches for the band of her panties and whisks them down.

I see the goose pimples as they pop up on Cami’s bottom. I begin to rub her right cheek to get it warmed up.

Ryle begins to massage the left.

When I lift my hand, out of the corner of my eye I see him doing the same.

From the very first swat, she becomes a puddle of “please, don’t!

” and “I’m sorry, Daddies”. But I’m not ready to let her up after a single swat, and it looks like Ryle has the same idea.

I settle in to give Cami the spanking she has coming.

As much as I don’t want to hurt her, I need her to remember what happens to Little girls who lie to their Daddies.

We get into a rhythm rather quickly and synchronize our spanking. Our hands bounce off and back down on her cheeks that are rapidly changing color. The pale olive of her ass is becoming tinged with pink, and as the flurry of spanks continues, that pink darkens.

“Please! I’m sorry! I’m so-or-ry!” Cami hollers.

I force myself to ignore the tearful pleading in her voice and focus on bringing justice to her very naughty behind. I shut my ears to her pleas for mercy and her promises of better behavior. All I feel is my hand landing crisply on her bottom which quivers under the impact.

After a couple minutes of continuous spanking, the pleas stop, the promises dry out, and she gives herself over to the pain.

Her shoulders begin to shake. My hand swats the curve of her cheek where bottom and thigh meet, and she lets out a wail.

The dark pink in her bottom begins to give way to red, and I hear the engine of her sobs roar to life.

I look to Ryle, who has just delivered a firm spank and then stops. I nod at him, and we wait, letting her cry it out.

Ryle

“I’m s-so so-so-sorry,” Cami sniffles into my pant leg.

“I know,” I say, rubbing her back gently.

“I know. All’s forgiven, I told you that.

We both did.” I make eye contact with Ben.

What’s up with this? I ask silently. He’s definitely been here more than I have.

Is it normal for her to cry ten minutes after a spanking is over? Did we spank her too hard?

“Honey, you’re okay,” Ben soothes, brushing his hand over her hair. “You’re okay. You need to calm down. Your spanking is over, and you’re going to be a good girl now, right? No more lying?”

“N-no.”

“And no more disrespect?”

“N-no, D-Daddy.”

“Then we’re just fine.” He pets her hair while I rub her back, and it almost looks like she’s settled down. But as soon as I exhale, she bursts into fresh tears.

“Okay, let’s get you sitting up.” I decide a change in position might help. When she’s sitting up, bolstered between me and Ben on the couch, the tears come back until her face is streaked with them.

“Babygirl, you’ve got to stop this,” Ben tells her firmly. “It’s not good for you, or the baby.”

“T-that’s wh-what I’m wo-wor-ried about,” she says, gulping air.

I look at Ben over her head.

“Why are you worried, honey? Is something wrong with the baby?” He caresses the soft curve of her belly.

When Cami just begins to cry harder, I really start to get concerned. “If you can’t calm down and tell us what’s going on, we’re going to carry you to the car and go straight to the hospital,” I say, making sure I speak loud enough to be heard over her hitched breathing.

It takes another five minutes and Ben bringing her water, but finally Cami’s sobs stop.

“There, that’s better.” I’ve retrieved a warm washcloth from the bathroom and use it to wipe her cheeks free of tears. “Now, why don’t you try again?”

Cami is still holding the glass of water. It’s only got about two inches of liquid in it now, but she stares into it as though it’s fascinating. “I just can’t stop thinking…”

“Hmm?” Ben wraps an arm around her shoulders.