“Nope,” he scolded, removing the thermometer as his hand landed on my ass. I probably jolted upward from the surprise of being spanked rather than from the actual pain, but before there was any chance of catching my breath, a second smack touched down onto my other cheek. In all honesty, I’m sure he could’ve spanked me harder, but just the embarrassment of him chastising me in that way had my face radiating a blazing heat and my pussy pulsating. “Up on your knees, bad girl. Are you testing your Daddy?”
“N-No.”
“Would you rather have a plug nestled in between these delicate cheeks? Because as I’ve told you, I own a full set, and they’re the prettiest shade of pink, which would currently match your naughty behind.”
I lowered my head, raised my hips back up and swallowed a deep groan.
“Ahh, that’s my good girl.”
As he repeatedly poked my nerve-filled hole with the sturdy instrument, I sucked in a dramatic breath and grabbed the comforter to bury my reddened face. “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” I said, my words muffled by the quilted fabric.
He smacked the lower half of my bottom several times with one hand and held the thermometer still with the other. “Though the daddies you’ve written about were pushovers where their sassy, disobedient little girls were concerned, I am quite the opposite. Are we clear on that?”
I turned and met his unwavering gaze. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now touch your wet pussy lips.”
“Dear God. You’re asking me to play with myself?”
“That was not a suggestion, it was an order, and you will do as I ask, or you’ll suffer the consequences.”
As I ran a finger along my slippery slit, John continued teasing my anus with the tip of the thermometer, gently entering and exiting my crimped entrance. And though I had several retorts floating in my head, when your bare ass is tilted upward and someone is poking a thermometer in and out of your bottom hole, you tend to shut the fuck up.
“Mmm-hmmm. Your pussy is pretty slick, eh?”
A hot streak shot up my neck as I nodded.
“Good girl,” he said, pulling my cheek to the side before fully inserting the bulbous end of the instrument. “Now let’s keep this inside you for a bit, and I’ll take it out when it beeps.”
My flushed face fell in disbelief. “You aren’t done yet?”
“Patience, my dear. Patience,” he tenderly whispered. “Daddy’s almost done.”
Closing my eyes, all I could do was will this anal activity to be over. “I-I’m trying to be good. I really am.”
“I know you are, princess,” he noted, twirling the thermometer one more time before it beeped.
“All done?”
“Yep,” he said, removing the rigid instrument before patting my behind. “You can lie quietly on your tummy, while I wipe the thermometer off and check your temperature.”
Lowering myself to the mattress, all I could think of was hiding my saturated pussy, which had been on display for too long. Way too long.
“I’m thinking your temperature might be running a bit high. That will happen when you’re aroused.”
“Good to know,” I muttered facetiously into the quilted duvet. “So, can I get dressed now?”
“You may get your jammies on and go straight to bed.”
“But it’s only nine-thirty, and Dateline is on in a half hour…”
“I guess you’ll have to catch reruns of the show when it’s airing at an earlier time, because I have a strict rule that lights are out when the clock strikes ten,” he stated in a casual tone.
Watching the door close, I raised one sculpted eyebrow. If I turned the light off and kept the television sound purring at a low volume—there was a good chance he wouldn’t know I was still awake. Falling asleep never came easy to me, and over the years I had practiced two methods that ensured a good night’s sleep.
Television or a heavy dose of self-pleasure.
Having done plenty of research on the life of a submissive, I knew masturbation was not acceptable unless the dominant gave permission—or wanted to participate by the thrill of watching. And although he didn’t mention pleasuring myself was against his house rules…
I figured it probably was.
Volleying the two ideas back and forth in my mind, it seemed watching television might be the safer of two evils—even though he’d just stated my bedtime in his house will be at ten o’clock.
But for God’s sake, I’m a twenty-four-year-old woman, it’s only nine-thirty in the evening and I’m not tired.
Remembering I was in a different time zone, it took me a while to surf the channels—but thankfully, I’d finally found the station. Fluffing the pillows behind me, I exhaled a heavy sigh of satisfaction while reclining my head backward until I heard heavy footsteps bounding down the hall. The door was pushed open, he stood with arms crossed and his profound gaze was locked upon my widened eyes.
Uh-oh.
This burly man didn’t need to utter a word. His expression indicated quite nicely that he intended to be judge, jury and executioner.
As John strode toward me with his hands clasped behind his back, I never thought it would be possible for him to seem larger than his six-foot-four-inch frame. But when he bent down to stare into my eyes, I’d never felt smaller in my life.
“I have rules in this house, young lady.”
“Uh-huh. You read the long list to me during lunch,” I retorted, trying to avoid his intense glare.
“But for some reason, I feel like you’re testing me to see if I’m the real deal.”
“No, John. I’m sure you are.”
He quirked one eyebrow and inclined his head toward mine. “I’d like to be addressed as Sir or Daddy during any type of correction. Haven’t you been told that before?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I said, wondering how far he was going to take his ridiculous display of testosterone levels.
John’s thick index finger tapped the shiny crystal on his watch. “Did you turn the television on right after I walked down the hall? Did you think it was okay to do exactly what I instructed you not to?”
“That’s it? That’s my crime?”
There was no need for him to speak another word because his expression was filled with volumes of disappointment, but he continued anyway. “Your bedtime will be ten o’clock sharp during your stay here, and I’ve already made that quite clear. Have I also mentioned there is rarely a second warning issued for disobedience while you’re under my charge?”
“Yes, you certainly have,” I bit back, my mind whirling from the stunning truth of how my life was about to change for the next week—just as he said it would. But as I watched his hazel eyes darken, those proverbial butterflies started fluttering around in my stomach. Was his stern scolding turning me on?
For fuck’s sake.
“You will lie face down over my lap and take your punishment, little miss.” The deep tone of his Texan accent was filled with authority as he dramatically lifted the gray fabric on each of his pant legs, before making himself comfortable on a supple black leather chair that had no arms.
“Wait a minute. Is this the spanking chair Jake told me about?” I managed through a jagged smile, pleased as punch with