Bound to the Daddy (Knotted for Life)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

STEPHANIE

My insides squirm as I note the heat in Mr. Rothsbourne’s gaze. But that’s impossible. Silly really. To think that someone like him would want someone like me. Honestly, I don’t even know why Brody seems to keep me around.

With all their money and influence, what does someone like me even offer them? A pet project, no doubt. It has to be the only reason he insists on helping me. A nobody. Turning to look out the window, I absently chew on my thumbnail as the scenery whizzes by.

Soon, I’ll be back at his house, my bottom bared, and his hand crashing against the skin. How badly will it hurt? I know he said it would be less than his belt, but I have nothing to compare this with. Unfortunately, when I don’t have all the data, it just makes my mind whirl until something fills the gaps.

“Steph. You’re doing it again.”

I slip my finger from out of my mouth. “Doing what?” Can he really tell I’m overthinking? Am I that transparent?

“You’re chewing your nails even after I told you not to. Look at them.”

Pulling my hand back, I stare at the ragged nail beds and groan. They looked so pretty, too. At least, they did until after I got fired. Once that happened, nothing else really registered. The tips are puffy, swollen, and an angry shade of red.

One is so chewed down that a smear of blood runs along the edge. How did it get this bad? Why didn’t I stop when I felt the pain? Or did I even feel the pain?

Again, my gut flips as I think about the razors waiting for me. Is it possible to be so accustomed that I just don’t even notice it anymore? That indeed is a troubling prospect.

“What has you so distressed? I thought we put all that to rest with our conversation.”

“It’s the spanking thing. I- I just don’t know what to expect.”

The frown he gives me makes my stomach flip, but in a far more inappropriate manner. How the hell can I be so scared and yet so turned on at the same time? It makes no sense to me.

“Would it help you if I turned you over my knee and spanked you now instead of waiting until we get to my office?”

My eyes widen as I glance over at the shielded window. “You can’t possibly do that here. Everyone will see. Your driver will know…” As terrified as I am of him spanking me with those strong hands of his, I’m even more distressed at the idea of someone else seeing me.

“No one can see into this car. As for the driver, with the shield in place, he cannot see or hear anything happening in the back seat. Why, I could fuck you hard and long and he’d only think we were back here having a business meeting.”

My mouth goes dry at his pronouncement. “Why would he think that?” My voice is hoarse, barely a whisper.

Arousal gathers at my core, smearing against the crotch of my underwear. I’m so unbelievably wet and achy, soaked even. And this man hasn’t even touched me.

“Because,” Mr. Rothsbourne growls out, his lips twisting into a wolfish grin. “He thinks whatever I tell him to think. I pay him too well to have him give voice to his own thoughts. Now then. Do you want to get this over with? Or do you want to sit and stew? Choice is yours. Whichever you choose, though, you will not be allowed to keep chewing on your nails.”

My breath comes in harsh pants as I try my best to make a decision. Either way, it will be torturous agony. At least here, I can know what will happen now. My brain won’t be able to keep overthinking it. Besides, there’s less of a chance of someone seeing him if he does it in the privacy of his car as opposed to his office.

“I guess spanking me here will be best.”

“Fine choice, but you will need to ask me again in a far more respectful way. Remember, you’re the one in trouble here. I don’t have to actually give in to what you want. You need to convince me.”

Swallowing, I fiddle with the buttons on my shirt. His ice-blue eyes follow my movements, darkening again. What was that social media trend that went viral a while back? Get you someone who works in finance, has a trust fund, is six foot five inches, and has blue eyes?

Brody fit that description to a tee, but now I’m wondering if his dad fits that idea better. Granted, I don’t know if he actually has a trust fund since he’s an adult. But then, it’s not as if I understand that, anyway. I’ve never been a financial guru. Thus my current predicament.

As the silence looms between us, he sighs and shakes his head. “My office it is then.”

“Wait,” I cry out, my heart pounding in my chest. “Please. No. I’d rather it be here and now.”

“Then you know what you need to do. And don’t forget my current title.” Even though he winks at me, it does nothing to stop the heat from climbing up my face.

“Please, Daddy…” I stammer. “Please spank my bare bottom here in the car.”

“Very, very good,” he praises me, sending those super inappropriate tingles down my spine and into my pussy again. “When you ask me so very sweetly like that, I can’t help but give in to your request.” His voice lowers a bit, turning husky as he runs his thumb over his mouth. “Now then, unbutton your pants and slide them down to your knees. Panties as well. Can’t spank a bare bottom with panties on. Now, can I?”

“Do you have to call them panties? It’s so… so…”

“Infantile?” he supplies with a grin.

“I was going to say icky, but that works, too.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a proper punishment if it didn’t make you feel off balanced and ill at ease, now, would it?”

“I guess not,” I grumble, feeling very small and helpless.

“Come now. We haven’t all day.”

As I take my time with my pants buttons, he pulls out his phone. Based on the conversation, the driver is going to a different location, presumably to give us longer together in the car.

“You like burgers, right?”

His question takes me off guard, and my fingers still on my zipper. “I mean, who doesn’t?”

“Just making sure you actually eat meat. Some people don’t or can’t, and I didn’t want to stress you out further when I take you for lunch.”

He goes back to his phone call, leaving me reeling. Even amidst this humiliating punishment, he’s thinking of my needs. When was the last time anyone ever did that? Unfortunately, I know I won’t be able to stomach anything until after we get this over with.

My fingers tremble as I work at my pants, dragging them and my underwear down to my knees. Thankfully, I actually wore a cute pair and not some old, ratty things I wear for comfort. Mr. Rothsbourne doesn’t even seem to notice. Was I actually wrong about his intentions? Is this really for punishment only and not for some deviant kink?

I glance at my bare thighs, my heart leaping into my chest. The scars. Will he see them? Will he know? They’re on my inner thighs, so I should be able to conceal them well enough.

With a hard yank, he pulls me over his lap, tipping me so my head nearly rests against the floorboard. My thighs remain pressed together, allowing a small sigh of gratitude to slip past my lips. This secret, at least, is safe.

With that crisis averted, my brain does what it does best and whirls out of control, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time.

It must be nice having a car large enough to do this. Does he even have other people come in this car with him? With the seats right across from us, it would be perfect for a meeting.

Even as I try to relax against his thighs, I can’t get my brain to shut up. It’s on a constant loop filling my head with that voice that never goes away unless I’m sleeping or hyper focusing on something. At least I don’t have to keep worrying about my scars. That’s one mental loop I’d rather not get stuck in right now.

Thankfully, the moment his fingers rest against my ass, everything goes quiet. The near-constant hum dies down enough to let me relax over his implacable thighs. Finally, I can relax.

His thumb grazes my butt, almost absently. Twisting about, I look up at him, noting the darkness in his gaze once more. “Is this part of the punishment?”

“I’m debating,” he growls out.

“About what?”

“If I should warm you up first or not.”

“What’s the diff-” His hand crashes down against my upturned ass, drawing a screech from my lips.

“This is with you not warmed up.” He switches to the other cheek and runs his fingers up and down before giving me a much softer pat. “I’d do this for a minute or two, get your body used to being spanked, and then punish you.”

My pussy spasms with each stroke of his hand against my inflamed skin. “You seem to be a pro at this.”

“I have my moments.” He switches back to the other side and continues the lighter swats.

Over and over, he keeps up a steady rhythm, swatting each cheek until heat infuses my body from head to toe. He was right about how intimate it feels. Even though he’s not touching anything inappropriate or even commenting about how wet I fucking am, it feels too close, too personal.

Maybe I should have taken the belt. But then, that first swat hurt far more than I expected. The belt would certainly hurt far worse.

“I’m going to start with your punishment now. With each swat, you are going to say the number and follow it with, thank you, Daddy. Are we clear?”

“I- I have to thank you, too?”

“Yes. I’m correcting you, molding you into a better version of yourself. Many pay thousands of dollars for what I’m doing for free. A simple thank you is the least you can do.”

I arch up, shock making my mouth fly open. “People pay to be spanked?”

“Yes, but that’s a different conversation. I’m talking about managing your life, bringing out the best in you. Think of me as your free life coach with an unconventional way of motivating you.”

“That’s an understatement,” I grumble, shifting on his lap.

“Sass will also not be tolerated during correction, understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

His hand crashes down against my ass. Despite the yelp flinging from my lips, I can’t deny how turned on I am. The bite of pain, the caress from his hand, all of it coalesces into a twisting, burning need. As the cry of displeasure dies out, it trails off into the most wanton moan.

“What was that?” he growls, digging his fingers into my ass cheek.

“Sorry. Yes, Daddy.”

“Very good. Count out your punishment.”

Smack .

“One. Thank you, Daddy,” I sob out, gripping his pants as the sting skitters along my nerves.

Smack

“Two.” My voice warbles now as emotion wells up to the surface, taking me by surprise. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Smack

“Three!” This time, tears flow from my eyes, even though the pain isn’t really that unbearable. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Smack

“F- four. Thank you, Daddy.”

Smack

Smack

Smack

Smack

The last four hit in quick succession where my ass meets my thighs. I scream out in discomfort and twist about, but he holds me firm, not letting me go anywhere. Tears flow in earnest as hiccups wrack my body.

All the anger, anguish, exhaustion, and terror from the last few years pour out of me as he holds me close, letting me purge it from my body. His fingers brush against my sensitive skin, soothing it and me at the same time.

“You took your first punishment very well, Stephanie. I’m so very proud of you. But know this. Lie to me again, and there will be no warmup. There will be no hand against your ass. It will be the taste of my leather. Understood?”

“Y- yes, Daddy,” I hiccup, twisting his pants legs in my grasp.

The car jerks forward, jostling as it goes over some dip or hole in the road. It makes his hand drop, skimming against my exposed pussy lips, drawing a gasp from my mouth. But just as soon as it happened, his hand is back against my ass as if he had never touched me so intimately.

We stay like this for a few minutes as I catch my breath and think through everything that just happened. All too soon, however, he helps me up so I can straighten myself.

“We’re almost there. I suggest you look presentable before my driver sees you in such disarray.”

He’s so calm, almost businesslike. Yet, here I am, a quivering mess needing to get off. None of it makes any sense, and deep down, I know it won’t unless he explains it to me. Glancing out the window as I button my pants, my eyes nearly bulge out of my head.

“The Meat Market? Lunch is at the actual Meat Market?”

“Yes,” he says with a smooth cadence, as if it’s nothing for him to stop there on a whim.

But then, for him, this is probably just another day. He never had to worry about money or where his next meal will come from.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never been.”

My jaw drops open as I stare at him as if he’s grown another head. “How would I ever be able to actually afford to eat here?”

“I figured Brody would have taken you at some point. They have the best burgers around.”

Again, I look at the man, the Daddy who seems to think nothing of spoiling me for no other reason than I’m here. Comparing him to Brody, there’s no contest. If this is how his son should have been treating me all these years, then I’ve been wasting my time.

He’s such a little boy compared to the commanding man next to me. But then… he has to make sure I’m taken care of. Starving girls can’t pay back money. Instead of romanticizing his every move, I should start getting my head back into the game.

I can’t negotiate a deal with someone like Mr. Rothsbourne and hope to come out unscathed. Especially not if I actually delude myself into thinking he cares about me as something more than just a business transaction.

“We haven’t had the chance to go. He’s been so busy.”

“Yes,” he grimaces. “With his pretend money startup.”

“Oh good,” I sigh. “I’m not the only one that worries it’s just some fly-by-night operation.”

“It’s certainly not something I’d invest my money into. Now then, let’s go eat and figure out just what I’m going to do with you.”