Chapter 13 #2
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, filling in the heavy silence that was quickly growing every bit as awful as having to stand bare-assed in front of him.
She sniffled, and then shrugged. She wasn’t sure she knew all the words to effectively describe what she was thinking about. Not that it would help. It wasn’t like she was thinking about anything that he’d actually sent her to the corner for.
“Use your words,” he coaxed. “What are you thinking about?”
She sighed, sniffled harder, and finally confessed. “How awful this feels. It’s so embarrassing.”
“How about you forget about the embarrassment, and instead start thinking about why I sent you there.”
Tipping forward, she rested her head against the joining of the walls.
Snaps from the fireplace crackled softly behind her, the warmth spreading out from the hearth soaked into the backs of her bare legs.
It was the next best thing to an actual spanking that she’d yet felt.
If he wanted her to think about what she was waiting here for, the fire helped.
The heat soaking into the backs of her thighs was rising up to kiss the curves of her bare buttocks, warming her there too.
Like his impending spanking was going to do, once he’d decided she was here long enough.
And that wouldn’t be decided until she was done thinking.
That felt impossible. She wasn’t any good at thinking about things, and the problem Brock had set her to brainstorming already seemed impossible.
How was she supposed to remember not to do things that came so second nature to her that she was barely aware she was doing them?
“It’s too hard,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I can’t think of anything, except how awful this is.”
“Perhaps I should spank you. Maybe if I make that feel worse than the awfulness, you’ll start to pay better attention to doing what you were told to do in the first place.”
“But I can’t think of anything!” she cried, bouncing on her heels. “How am I supposed to stop myself from doing something I barely know I’m doing anyway? That’s just stupid!”
“So, you’re telling me that you’d rather I help you brainstorm preventative measures than continue trying on your own?”
Her chest got tight. She felt guilty for not trying harder. Seriously, how difficult was it to just not talk? For sure she wouldn’t say the sort of things he took exception to if she never said anything at all.
“I just come up with dumb things,” she muttered sadly.
At the first tromp of his boots as he came closer, Stace closed her eyes.
Knowing he was coming for her didn’t make her feel worse, though.
Instead, like an instant balm on an aggravating itch, she relaxed.
It was only slightly appalling to suddenly realize—
Her eyes flew open wide. Flipping around, she stared up at Brock, one hand clapping across her mouth to keep back a startled cry.
He could have caught her arm if he’d wanted to, swatted her butt or put her back with her nose to the corner, but he didn’t. Instead, calmly, he asked, “What are you thinking?”
“I—” She stared at him, afraid to say lest he get mad all over again.
Because if ever he was inclined to be angry at what she said or did, surely this was going to set him off.
“I-I feel better when you’re about to punish me,” she whispered, almost scared of what such a realization could mean. “Is that weird?”
“Not in and of itself,” he granted. “Just be aware you’re skating on some very thin ice right now. Why do you think being in trouble makes you feel better?”
She tapped her fingers. “How thin will the ice get if I said because I’m crazy?”
“Impossibly thin. So thin, in fact, it’ll end in a spanking, and that would be unfortunate, since you’ve already got one coming. You really aren’t going to want two back to back.”
She wouldn’t have thought so either, but the way her stomach felt when he said that countered all the common sense his words had suggested.
She looked at him, her hand still clapped over her mouth and her heart leaping in her chest. It wasn’t an unhappy leap.
As a matter of fact, although she knew that confirmed how crazy she really had to be, she almost laughed.
“Because... you really mean it, don’t you? ”
Tipping his head, he studied her. “I promise right here and now, I will never tell you something I don’t mean. What are you thinking, baby girl? Talk to me.”
“You really mean what you say when you threaten me,” she repeated, dumbfounded. “That means... that means you like me.”
She stared at him, as if she could only look hard enough to see the crazy running through him as well.
“You think I didn’t.” He didn’t say it like a question. He said it bluntly, his tone dropping, deepening with disapproval. He flexed his hand too, something she might have missed if only she weren’t looking straight at him, her tummy flipping acrobatics and her heart cheering further acrobatics on.
She shook her head, which made him frown harder, and yet this time she really did laugh.
She was shocked, scared, flabbergasted, maybe even a little appalled with herself for being so happy to have met someone who was ready, willing and able to turn her over his knee any time he felt she needed it. Especially when she didn’t need it.
She really didn’t need it. Did she?
Clapping both hands over her mouth now, Stace wasn’t fast enough to bite back the tiny squeak that broke free of her.
“I need to be spanked,” she told him wonderingly.
Her eyes widening, she stared up at him as if finally seeing him for who he was.
He was Brock, her next-door neighbor, and he was Daddy.
And he cared about her. He cared about her so much that even when he didn’t know her well, he physically punished her until she was able to listen.
People who didn’t like a girl, wouldn’t bother to do that if they didn’t really care.
He really liked her. He genuinely, bewilderingly liked her.
Not just talking to her, or being with her, but he liked her so much he’d made himself the ultimate authority figure over her actions.
.. and her inactions over her behavior, good or bad.
Despite her broken heart, she never would have guessed she’d ever want to be seen as anyone’s Little girl.
She began to cry. Her pants and panties around her knees, and her shirt not covering anywhere near enough to hide her Big girl parts, she went from hiding her mouth to hiding her entire face.
Bending over, she bawled into her hands until she felt the brush of his taking hold of her shoulders, pulling her up and into his secure embrace.
“Daddy!” she sobbed, throwing her arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry!”
He stroked her back, now and then swiping his thumb across her forehead until he’d cleared her hair out of the way and could see her eyes. “For what?”
“For being such a mess!” She hugged him tighter, her voice dropping to an involuntary whisper. “For making you feel like you have to clean me up.”
“If you think for one second you’re more than I can handle, I suggest you think again.”
“You like me, though.” She sniffled, wonderingly.
“Yes, I do.”
“No,” she insisted. “I mean, you really like me. You’re not faking it. That’s what I just realized. You really like me, and you prove it over and over again, every time you spank me.”
He was silent, but only for a moment, Amusement dancing in his voice, he said, “You only just realized that?”
She nodded. She hugged him that much tighter, the silliness of what she was saying creeping in around her until she had no choice but to let him go.
She stepped back, or tried to. He wasn’t as quick to let go as she was, and although he didn’t forcibly hold her against her will, he only let her lean back before his hands settled in firmly on her waist. Maybe it was more her fault than his.
She liked the way his lingering contact felt and really didn’t want him to let go yet.
It gave her the confidence she needed to admit, “Yes, but that isn’t all.
I also realized that I... I like it when you, um.
.. spank me. Not the ouchie part,” she quickly added.
“But it, um, makes me happy when you do... you know, it.”
His eyebrows arched. Only the slightest curl tugged the corners of his mouth, but back the amusement came, alive and well in his voice as he said, “Before I start to think I’m doing it wrong, would you like to explain exactly how it is that my spankings makes you happy?”
She knew she wasn’t making sense, but just hearing him say that made the happiness spike all over again. “Because if you didn’t mean it, you wouldn’t do it.”
She wasn’t ready when he adjusted his grip on her arms, pushing her gently back far enough to meet her eyes. “You know I meant it, honey. You know I meant it, because I said it.”
“People say things they don’t mean all the time.”
“And for as long as you’re with me, those kinds of people will no longer be allowed in your life.”
“Promise?” she pleaded, biting her bottom lip.
Brock tipped his head, giving her a little sideways shake that she didn’t for a second mistake as him telling her no. Taking hold of her hand, he turned and led her back through the living room, through the kitchen to the bedroom she’d selected as her own.
She felt happy and weird shuffling along behind him with her hand held in his.
It was a firm hold, and yet she didn’t feel captive.
She certainly wasn’t walking to her doom against her will.
When he pulled her into her room, she was shaking, but not out of fear.
Rather it felt more like excitement. She hadn’t felt this, not in a long time.
Brock pointed to the middle of the wall. “Find a spot. Take a step back, Now bend and put your hands on the wall. You might want to step out of your pants. I don’t want you to be off balance “