Discipline by Lena Little
4
Delilah
Morning rolls around am I’m clearly a bit off. I didn’t sleep so well, and how could I with Daniel in the room right next to mine. I’m not buying that whole show of him not wanting me, because his body was saying something completely incongruent with his mouth.
All I can think about is that throbbing need in his boxer shorts and how I wanted him to put it in me so badly. How he wanted to put it in me so badly, but somehow was able to resist.
The climax he gave me at the dining room table last night was like nothing I could have imagined, and I can only guess what it would be like if he had more than just a tongue inside me. I have to know. I need to know.
Sliding out of bed I take a quick shower, promising myself my hand is not going to drift between my legs and I manage to stay true to my word. I want Daniel in a real way, not some pyrrhic victory. And I’ll wait until I get him.
And I will get him.
I wonder how he views me, seeing me as living some cushy existence in the suburbs whereas he just got out of prison. We’re from two different worlds and it’s almost as if he’s trying to protect me from his, which is the exact opposite that I’d expect from a sex-starved ex-con.
Stepping out of the shower my phone vibrates on the nightstand and I move toward it, picking it up and viewing the message. I’ve just cleaned my body but now I have the taste of bile in my throat.
Tomorrow night at 8. Don’t be late.
I shake my head and remember why I’ve been acting like a brat in the first place…to try and prevent my dad’s supplier, Larry from being so interested in me. I thought my annoying behavior would turn him off, but it’s done nothing to dissuade him so far. I’m going to have to turn it up even more tomorrow night if I’m going to avoid becoming a pawn in his payment game.
Don’t tell your father. He doesn’t have to know. No one does. Just do what I ask and the debt will be cleared, and you can go on living in a house, not on the street.
I toss the phone on the bed and stomp my feet, shaking out my hands and contemplating taking a whole other shower after those disgusting text messages.
My dad bit off more inventory than he could chew and then found himself sitting on it for months, his warehouse full of unsold goods while the terms of payment just kept getting more and more aggressive the more overdue my dad’s payment became. That’s why Larry decided to show up at the house, and that’s when he saw something he decided he’d be willing to accept instead of cash. Me.
Maybe that’s part of the reason why I’m darn near throwing myself at Daniel. The last thing I want is for my first time to be with some slimy chain-smoking guy with a comb-over who spends half of his day hacking like he’s about to cough up a lung.
And we’ve come down to the final hours before Larry gets his hands on me, or thinks he’s going to. If I don’t do what my father’s business associate wants he can quickly sue us for the payment, plus late fees, and cut off our supplies too, sending my dad spiraling to a place even worse than when my mom up and left us.
Or I can tell Daniel and see how he handles the situation. But this isn’t Daniel’s fight. This is mine and I need to learn to take care of my family and myself or else Daniel’s words about me not being an adult will ring truer and louder than I could ever imagine. If I want a real man to respect me then I have to act like a real woman, although I’m not about to stop acting like a brat to try and get Larry to back off. I doubt an older guy wants to deal with a girl he considers childish and annoying.
I throw on a tiny pair of shorts and a T-shirt, just enough to keep myself covered in this sweltering summer heat, and head downstairs.
The signature smell of my dad’s bacon and eggs wafts around me and I can’t help but smile. “Did you save me some?” I ask as I bound into the kitchen, only to come face to face with Daniel, who’s standing there in a pair of Levi’s looking over his wide, unclothed, shoulder at me. His back muscles ripple. “Your dad stepped out, but yeah. There’s enough for everyone.”
I swallow hard and move to the fridge, opening it because I’m suddenly on fire and need to cool off quickly. I reach for the first thing I see, a can of Reddi Wip, and put the opening in my mouth and press the dispenser quickly, the whipped cream filling my cheeks up like a squirrel preparing for winter.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Daniel growls, turning his body to face me as he taps the end of the spatula against one palm.
“I’m hungry,” I mumble.
Daniel shakes his head and turns back to his eggs, sliding the spatula under them and dropping them onto a plate. “What you’re eating isn’t real food. That’s the last thing you want to put in your body first thing in the morning. Eat this,” he says, shoving the plate in my direction.
Instead, I take another shot of Wip, and his jaw hardens. “Put that whipped cream away and eat real food, food that will nourish your body, not destroy it.”
The anger washing over him is beyond hot and I can’t resist pushing it to the next level. Taking another shot of whipped cream, Daniel drops the spatula and beats feet toward me.
“Your ears not work?” he questions, grabbing me hard by the upper arm. “I tell you not to eat more of that garbage and you do it anyway. There are consequences for breaking the rules,” he threatens, shaking me slightly and his anger sets something inside me off. “Rules are meant to be followed, yet you knowingly broke them anyway.” He looks past me to the wall. “Take down those shorts and put your hands against the wall.”
“And if I don’t want to?” I question. As soon as the last word is out of my mouth he’s got a hold of me and spins me into the wall, flattening my front against it as he yanks down my shorts.
“No fucking panties,” he groans, and my face, which is plastered against the wall, flashes a smile. “You really need help doing what you’re told, don’t you?” He gets back on track. “Well, I don’t have time to remind you all the time so I’m going to do it once, now, and do it good.”
Grabbing both of my hands he locks my arms behind my back. “Not to mention you need to have on panties at all time, whether you’re in the house or not.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.” He pauses. “I’ll make you wish you had on another layer of fabric right now,” he grunts, sliding his belt through the loops.
“No, I’ll be good. I won’t eat any more junk,” I squirm.
“Too late for that. You had your chance. Now it’s time for the disciplinarian to dish out some discipline.”
“No!” I scream, but I secretly want it, crave it from him.
He cocks back his belt and brings it down on my flesh. The sting has me lurching forward. It hurts like hell, but just a second later the rush of endorphins washes through me, and a sense of relief, and then excitement, takes over. It feels so good I’m dying for him to do it again.
“Not again,” I fake protest, knowing that’s the quickest way to get spanked again.
“If my belt on your ass is the only way to make you obey my word, then so be it.” He swats my cheeks again and then again. I manage to squirm one wrist free, but he quickly catches it and raises both my hands up over my head. He kicks my feet apart and brings the belt down on me again. “Please don’t,” I cry out. “I’m sorry.”
“Not as sorry as I am,” he growls, the spanks stopping and the warm leather replaced with his rough hand as he cups my globes, massaging them with those thick, crooked fingers. “Spank it now. Fuck it later. The first is your punishment. The second is my reward.”
I swallow hard and suddenly feel the belt slide between my legs. He takes the buckle in front of my body with one hand and the end of the belt behind me with the other, and lifts up, the leather splitting my folds as my feet come off the ground.
“Oh my, God,” I whimper.
“Thought I was gonna teach you a lesson and instead you’re fucking soaked,” he mumbles. “Maybe next time I should put you in time out, stick your nose in the corner, and not touch you at all.”
The sound of the garage door opening echoes throughout the extreme quiet. “Looks like you’re saved by the bell.” Slowly he lowers my feet back down and once they’re on the ground he slides the entire length of his belt through my folds, scissoring his belt through my pussy from buckle to tip. Once he’s finished I collapse onto the floor and Daniel walks away nonchalantly, sliding his belt back through the loops, grabbing a plate of breakfast, and sitting down at the table, eating it as if nothing just happened.
The door from the garage to the house swings open and I shimmy my shorts up my legs, my eyes never leaving Daniel as he eats as if what just happened…never did.
It’s clear my childish behavior isn’t going to get me anywhere with him, at least not when it comes to him seeing me as an equal, eye to eye. But there is one thing for sure my brattiness has gotten me…a first-hand education in just how good discipline can actually feel.
But how does he really feel about me?
