Page 12 of Her Hollywood Master (Master Me #6)

“Well, you can,” he said softly. “Daddies take good care of their little girls. You’re safe with me. Your feelings are safe. Your bottom is not safe,” he said with another hard but playful slap.

“Ouch,” she protested. “You’re mean.”

“No, I’m kind. I punish my little girl so there’s never any irritation that hasn’t been dealt with. Your bottom will always pay when you displease me,” he said, patting her tingling ass.

Her skin flushed all over, heat crawling up and down her arms and legs, her backside throbbing. She wanted him to touch between her legs, but he seemed to purposely avoid her pussy, circling all around her bottom and lower thighs without ever more than a brush on her nether lips.

“I’m going to finish your spanking with a strap. If you lie down and take it like a good girl, I’ll give you twenty strokes. If you’re naughty, I will start the twenty over.”

Her head jerked up and she looked over her shoulder at him, reaching back to cover her bottom as if he already had the strap. “I’ll be good, Daddy, I promise.”

He helped her to stand and shame washed through her. She stood with her head bowed, her fingers knit in front of her. Joel stacked two pillows from his bed on top of one another and pointed to the pile. “Lie over those.”

“But Daddy…” she whined. Somehow, she’d really become a child, incapable of any mature response.

“Now, Marissa,” he said, his voice hardening.

“Daddy, you’re embarrassing me,” she moaned as she laid over the pillows, her bare bottom high in the air for his punishment.

“Open your knees wider.”

She started to obey and then stopped. That would expose her pussy for the strap. “Please don’t make me do that, Daddy,” she whimpered.

“Open them, Marissa. Daddy wants to see your glistening little pussy while he whips you.”

Reluctantly, she slid her knees wider.

He slapped her bottom and then dipped two fingers over her slit.

“Oh!” she exclaimed.

But he withdrew them all too soon.

“Please, Daddy? Please touch me again?”

“No, little girl. When you’ve been naughty, you can’t expect Daddy to pleasure you before you’ve been punished, can you?”

“No, sir,” she said with a sigh.

He went to a drawer and opened it, pulling out a wide leather strap.

She shuddered.

“Yes, Rissa Roo. You earned a strapping.” The skin on her bottom crawled in anticipation of the whipping. Would it be easier to take than his horrid hairbrush?

He placed a hand lightly on her low back and swung. The whoosh of the strap flying through the air arrived just before the sound of its slap across her cheeks.

“Ughn,” she groaned, closing her lips and ducking her head into his soft bedspread.

He brought the strap down again and she gasped.

By the third stripe, the first one had begun to burn as if on fire. “Ahh,” she moaned.

He continued to leather her, making neat stripes down to her thighs and back up again. By the time he reached a dozen, she couldn’t stand the pain. No thought preceded it, she simply scrambled off the pillows and slid off the bed.

“Where do you think you’re going Marissa Sparks?”

She covered her face with her hands. “It hurts,” she whined.

“What did I tell you? If you took it well, I would give you twenty strokes, but if you didn’t cooperate, we would start over from the beginning.”

“No-o,” she moaned. She rubbed her smarting ass. “I can’t. It hurts, Daddy. Please don’t spank me anymore.”

“Marissa, twenty strokes with my strap is not too much to take for the way you misbehaved today. Now lie back over these pillows or Daddy will have to get very stern with you.”

She moaned. “Don’t be stern, Daddy,” she wailed as she climbed onto the bed and lay back over the pillows. She caught the glimmer of a smile when she stole a glance at his face.

“That’s better.” He didn’t even wait a beat. The leather strap came sailing down across her cheeks, picking up where he’d left off, except that he began the count at one again.

She squeezed her eyes closed so tight, little starbursts danced around the edges. She squeezed her bottom, too, not that it provided any protection whatsoever.

“Daddy is not happy with that little walking away in the middle of punishment stunt you just pulled,” he said.

“Sor-ry.” She really was sorry. Not just for the extra spanks it cost her, but she was embarrassed that she hadn’t been able to take it. She crossed one ankle over the other and tried to hold her feet down while her poor bottom absorbed the whipping.

When the twenty strokes finished at last, he stood silent.

She lifted her head to find him simply gazing at her, his eyes dark.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said in a small voice, reaching back to rub her throbbing bottom.

“I know you are, peanut. It’s forgiven now. Daddy forgives his little girl.”

Even though she knew he was just playing a part, the words warmed her chest. What was wrong with her? It frightened her how much she seemed to crave his approval.

“I want you to just rest here for a few minutes, but stay in position. Okay?”

She meant to ask why, but no sound came out.

She dropped her head back onto his bed. The humiliating position in which she lay left her completely exposed and vulnerable.

And also turned on. Her inner thighs quivered and her toes scrunched up as she imagined him returning and taking her from behind. She could hardly wait.

When Joel returned, she looked over her shoulder to see him carrying a quart-sized glass measuring cup filled with what smelled like fresh coffee.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“Coffee. For your enema. It’s a liver cleanse, so it should help clear all the toxicity that’s causing your cold sore.”

She’d stopped listening at the word enema. What?

She started to get up, but he anticipated her flight, pressing a hand into her low back and touching something to the backs of her legs.

“Do you feel this?” he asked.

“Let me go,” she pouted.

Suddenly a line of pure fire erupted on her backside and she screamed.

“That is my crop.” He tapped the wicked instrument to her bottom, which she’d squeezed tight. “I require your total and complete cooperation or I will be using this crop on your bottom. And considering it’s already blistered, I don’t think you would enjoy that.”

She forced her held breath out. “No, sir,” she mumbled.

“Daddy will be giving you a coffee enema every day until your cold sore disappears.”

“But—”

“No, Rissa. I’m in charge here.”

She dropped her face back to the bedspread.

She couldn’t believe this was really happening.

It was too embarrassing to even consider.

She buried her head under another pillow and pretended she was anywhere but with her ass high on display for her new kinky.

..boyfriend—? er, Daddy, to give her an enema.

“Reach back and hold open your cheeks for me, sweetheart.”

No. Way. Did he really want her to hold her own cheeks apart? It was bad enough to lie there and pretend it wasn’t happening.

“Open your knees,” he ordered. “Spread those cheeks wide for me.”

She reached back, cringing as she gripped her burning cheeks and parted them.

She smelled something like coconut and then Joel began massaging oil all around her anus. She didn’t want him to touch her there, and yet she found herself moaning and pressing back wantonly.

“I’m a...virgin back there,” she said, clearing her throat.

He increased the pressure on the massage, breaching her hole and rubbing all around the inside.

She moaned again.

“I’m so glad, Rissa Roo. I want to be the first to take your tight little ass. I will teach you how to please your Daddy.”

She squealed, her anus and pussy clenching down in a shudder of excitement, despite the resistance from her brain at the thought of anal sex.

“And after your enema, you’ll be nice and clean inside, so Daddy can do whatever he wants with his baby girl’s pretty bottom.”

She moaned again, feeling lightheaded.

He removed his finger, which she found disappointing, but he replaced it with the thin plastic nozzle for the enema. It didn’t hurt and when he didn’t move it, she hardly felt it at all. She wondered what it would be like if the nozzle had been a little wider around.

Suddenly a warmth began to fill her bowels. “Ahh,” she cried in alarm.

“Just relax, baby girl,” Joel said in a soothing voice. “You’ll need to hold this for at least twelve minutes.”

“Oh my God,” she cried in panic, feeling like she had to get up and run to the bathroom.

“Are you full? I’ll stop the flow,” he said.

The sense of urgency remained, even after he had clamped the tube.

“I have to go,” she wailed.

“Shh, relax. The need will pass after a few moments.”

She didn’t believe him. She had to go, and she had to go right then. But for some bizarre reason, she didn’t want to disappoint Joel by proving him wrong. He seemed to think she could do this.

She focused on her breathing, then starting silently reciting lines from the script to distract herself. After a while, she realized he’d been right, the urgency had passed. She sighed and laid her head in her arms.

Marissa looked so damned hot folded over the pillows with the enema tube coming out of her thoroughly reddened ass.

He set a timer on his phone and placed it by her, in case she wanted to keep track of the time herself.

She didn’t emerge from the pillow she’d pulled over her head.

Adorable. The fragility of her emotional state concerned him, though.

He wanted to reassure her and win her trust so she could really let go and be his baby girl.

She lasted eight minutes, and then her feet began twitching against one another. “Daddy,” she said, her voice rising in pitch on the last syllable. “I, um...Daddy? I can’t hold it any longer.”

“Okay, baby girl,” he said, slipping the insertion rod out of her ass. “You may go potty.”

She rolled off the bed, moving carefully, as if afraid she might explode. Her little buns squeezed together, giving her a duck-walk as she rushed for the bathroom with a single-minded focus.