Trained By Her Daddy by Shelly Douglas

Chapter 3

“Jeans and panties down,” he said, opening the dresser drawer. “Then I want your tummy touching the bed.”

“Is this an exercise in humiliation, or do you really want to know my current body temperature?”

His head swiveled to meet mine. “In this house, you’ll do as you’re told without question, young lady.”

As I lowered my panties, something curiously clenched inside me. “Are you really doing this because I haven’t written any anal scenes in my books?”

“This is only the beginning of your training,” he maintained through a crooked grin. “Now then, would you like to remove your panties, or would you prefer I do it? Because if I need to ask again, this thermometer will be poking out of an extremely sore behind.”

“Can I crawl up onto the bed and take them off after I roll on my belly?” I asked, not wanting him to see my pussy.

His sigh was loud and exaggerated as he extended a hand.

Getting into position on the mattress, I reached back, tugged the cotton panties down my thighs and heard a distinctive snap. It sounded just like a rubber band, and I couldn’t resist turning my head to see what he was doing.

Fuck. It was a latex glove he’d snapped around his wrist.

“Now relax your bottom while I smooth some lubricant around your little puckered hole.”

“Wait a minute. You didn’t say anything about…”

But before my thought ended, his lubricated finger had already rounded my rosebud and as I wiggled nervously, a sharp smack landed on my tender thigh.

“Be still.”

“I’m not an expert in this area, but…”

“Enough!” he scolded, sliding his thick finger into my anus. “Are you in control, or am I?”

A rush of air spilled from my throat as his finger pushed deeper, invading my dark, private space. “Y-You are.”

“What would be the appropriate way to address me at this moment?”

“Y-You are, Daddy.”

“That is correct,” he casually agreed while removing his finger to give my ass a brisk slap. “Now, up on your knees, and I’ll take your temperature.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Oh, but you will,” he assured while helping me get into the humiliating position.

It was obvious he had a clear view of my pussy as he tilted my hips up in the air, but just when I thought it couldn’t get any more embarrassing, he gently tugged on the short hairs that surrounded my bottom hole.

“Hey…”

“I think my little one needs a shave. But that will be taken care of at another time,” he promised nonchalantly, poking the tip of the rigid instrument in and out of my trembling muscle.

“What are you doing?”

“Daddy wants to see if your sweet rosebud quivers when it’s properly teased,” he said, taunting my sensitive rim before sliding the thermometer back into my shivering pucker.

It was bad enough my ass was vibrating but then my damn clit started to shudder, so I slid downward and clenched my cheeks together, in hopes of hiding my arousal.

“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 my quick sarcasm.

His eyes narrowed as he curled his finger in my direction. “Come closer and see for yourself, my dear.”

While a nervous energy bounded through my body with the realization I was about to be spanked by my publisher’s father, it also occurred to me my ass was naked under my pajama bottoms. Surely, he wouldn’t take my pants down.

“Are you coming, Lori? Because the second time I need to ask, the elastic waist in those pants will be lowered to your knees,” he warned in a husky tone while folding his arms, “and then the spankin’ you deserve will be administered to your bare behind.”

The event that was about to take place seemed surreal as I cleared my throat and made the decision to slowly move toward him. Instantly, he lifted me over his knees, repositioned my bottom until it was tipped upward, and then his large warm hand rested on the small of my back.

“Here’s what will happen when you disobey the rules.”

Instinctively, I reached to shield my covered backside. “Noo, wait!”

“You don’t get to direct how this discipline will be carried out,” he scolded, his voice lowering a notch as he caught my wrist and pinned it to the base of my spine. “It was your decision to defy me, and as a result, this little hide of yours will be spanked good and hard.”

“Jesus, you’re treating me like a fucking five-year-old,” I grated through gritted teeth as the first smack landed on my shuddering behind.

“Oh, and did I mention what will happen when you use nasty language in my home?” His tone was smooth as silk as he hooked his fingers under the elastic waistband of my pajama pants and tugged them down my legs. “Yes, I’m sure I did.”

“Whoa! You can’t do that! I…”

But just as my second thought began, he peppered the bottom of each globe with a hand that didn’t feel human at all.

It felt like a piece of wood.

“Oh, yes, I can, young lady,” John said with a quiet nonchalance before he slapped the backs of my thighs.

I’d always wondered if the description of flesh connecting with flesh really had the same sound as multiple gunshots at close range.

Unfortunately, I’m not wondering anymore.

“Jesus Christ! That hurts! Are you fucking crazy?” I tried my best to buck upward while wiggling away from this solid man who easily weighed over two hundred pounds, but he snaked my waist in closer to his body with one arm while landing a resounding smack across the middle of my ass.

“To answer your question, I prefer to think of myself as a disciplinarian who insists rules will be followed in his house. So, you’ll either start behaving, my dear, or there will be consequences. Painful consequences.”

The slaps continued coming fast and hard on my bare cheeks, most of them landing in the same spot, and I could only imagine the color my pale skin was turning. In my entire life, I’d never experienced a burning pain quite like it. Fuck! It felt like my ass was on fire!

“Please stop! Please! Please!” My howls were loud and intense as I begged, rocking and writhing over his knees trying to escape, which just resulted in him drawing me tighter to his broad frame while he continued to rain down a steady barrage of heavy smacks onto my poor burning behind.

“You owe me an apology, little one,” he scolded, stopping to cup my fiery globes with his massive hand.

The smart choice would’ve been to answer him quickly, but it was difficult to speak and sob at the same time. Agreeing to be trained by this man was probably the dumbest decision I’d ever made, and with that thought, I slumped over his lap and dropped my head toward the floor in defeat. This disciplinary spanking was not how I ever imagined it would be, and it certainly wasn’t close to anything I’d described in my novels.

“I. Am. Waiting,” he growled, landing a stinging swat to the area that joined my ass and thigh with each deliberate word.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I really am!”

His fingertips ran light circles around my back. “Lori, do you really want to stay here as we planned? Because I can call Jake right now to pick you up if you’ve changed your mind. He only lives an hour away.”

The tiny voice that emerged from my parched throat surprised me. “No. I’ll stay.”

“Good. Because we obviously have a lot of work to do together. Don’t we?”

“I-I was just trying to be funny. I thought you’d appreciate a quick repartee.”

“There is a difference between being a brat and having a sense of humor,” he advised, smoothing the hair on the back of my head. “Tell me, were you crying because of the physical pain from the spankin’, or from the embarrassment?”

“You took my pants down,” I quavered, tears once again falling from my eyes.

“Yes, I did,” he acknowledged in a measured tone as his hand patted my sore behind. “Did your father ever take you over his knee for a serious tannin’?”

“N-No. My father didn’t pay much attention to me. He’s a salesman and spent a good bit of time on the road.

“Ahh, I see.”

“You know, I’m not feeling this is the best moment for me to fill you in on my family history,” I said, trying to wiggle my bottom away from his sizable fingers.

Squeezing my inflamed flesh, he apparently took a minute to ponder my logic. “Mmm, and I would argue that point. I think this position is ideal for any future important discussions we might have. Honestly, I’m finding it quite convenient that your bright red behind is resting comfortably under my firm hand.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are.”

Instead of words, his immediate response to my cheeky comment came in the form of several sharp swats right across my flaming ass.

“Come on! That hurts!”

“In case I haven’t made myself clear, the sass needs to end, and it needs to end right now.”

“Okay, Dr. Freud, what do you really want to know? Wait, let me guess. You’re wondering if I started writing Daddy Dom stories because I’m secretly craving the loving care of an older dominant man. Is that it?”

“I think when you finally accept who you really are, everything else will fall into place.”

“You’re not only a Daddy Dom, but you are also a psychologist. Wow, didn’t I hit the fucking jackpot?” Five smacks instantly rained down onto my thighs, and they came harder and faster than I ever thought was possible.

“For the remainder of the week, you’ll be held responsible for even the slightest bit of disrespect that comes out of your sassy mouth. I’ll not tolerate any misbehavior from my little girl. Is that understood?”

I parted my lips to speak, but no sound emerged. When Jake first proposed that I be trained by his father, the idea seemed preposterous. But as I looked over my shoulder and noticed John’s bushy dark eyebrow was raised, it was crystal clear he was serious. Yes, indeed, this was my publisher’s strict father who wanted to teach me about the world of D/s, the man who invited me into his home for a week to be my Daddy Dom, and his determined expression revealed he was nowhere near finished disciplining my bare ass for testing him.

“When I ask you a question, young lady, you will answer me.” Though his tone was deep, it sounded eerily calm and collected.

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Good girl,” he said as his rock-hard palm fell onto my bare behind like the steady beat of a metronome. Though I tried my best to be stoic, the high-pitched shrieks that emerged from my dry throat displayed my obvious low tolerance for ass pain. Which is so ironic, because I’ve been told by more than one editor that I’m a pain in the ass.

“Now, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“That hurt like fucking hell!”

“Try again,” he directed, landing a firm swat on the inside of each thigh.

“I promise not to say fuck anymore?”

A brisk slap landed straight across my buttocks. “Nope.”

“Aghh! Okay! I promise to behave myself.”

“Have you finally learned I am a man of my word?”

“Yes, sir,” I bit out through clenched teeth.

“Good. Now sit on my lap, please, so I can see your pretty face.”

While deliberating his command, long blonde strands of wavy hair dangled around my heated humiliated cheeks, as I lowered myself to the floor and peered up at him through swollen, watery eyes. My first inclination was to tug my top down in hopes of hiding my pussy before crawling onto his muscular thighs, but John immediately picked me up and dragged my sore ass over the scratchy fabric of his pants. Then he offered me a sly smile, drew me to his chest, and cradled my body in a warm hug before shifting my weight to the side of his leg. Curiously, I watched him give me a rakish wink, and as my eyes were drawn downward, they focused on a small wet stain spreading on the gray material beneath me. I breathed a dramatic sigh and dropped my face, but his finger quickly moved under my chin to prop it back up.

“What are you thinking?”

Like the classic train wreck syndrome, I couldn’t stop myself from glancing one more time in disbelief at my body’s betrayal. Fuck. Was that my own damn arousal permeating the air? “I’m thinking I’ve never been so embarrassed in my whole life.”

“Head over to the corner, missy,” he instructed, sliding me off his lap.

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

As he stood and crossed his arms, his expression remained steadfast. “Do I look amused?”

Standing before him half naked, I reached for the elastic that had pooled at my ankles until I saw him slowly shake his head, his gaze penetrating.

“No, my dear. Your Daddy pulled your pants down, and there they’ll stay for now.”

His eyes traveled the length of my body, and I watched his lips curve in amusement as he stopped to glance at the soft blonde curls that covered my pussy. “You may walk that red bottom of yours across the room and press your adorable nose against the wall,” he instructed nonchalantly. “Do you think you can follow those directions, or will you be needing more encouragement?”

Watching him finger the outline of his belt proved to be all the inspiration I needed, and I began hobbling over to the corner, tugging at the hem of my top in hopes of covering my inflamed ass. But he obviously didn’t want his view obstructed.

“Keep those hands in front of you. Daddy wants to see those red naughty cheeks of yours.”

“Yes, sir,” I whimpered as large tears of humiliation filled my eyes again.

Your Daddy pulled your pants down, and there they’ll stay for now.Damn, how that phrase sent a shiver down my spine. I was so intrigued by this older man, and there was no doubt his dominant demeanor captivated me. Nevertheless, a sensible voice in my head administered a harsh rebuke for putting myself in such an insane position. From the moment he gave me his list of house rules, I should’ve said, John, I’m not cut out for this—I’m taking the next flight home. The rational blood in my bones should’ve had me dialing Jake’s number so I could end the ridiculous agreement between us. But instead, here I was, nestling my nose into the corner of his guest room with my hands folded in front of me—just like he instructed me to do.

What was happening to me?

Listening to him shift on the armless chair across the room, I knew John was making himself comfortable as he studied my every move. His arms were probably crossed while his head cocked to one side as his piercing eyes watched my naked ass shudder with shame.

“Push your disrespectful bottom out further. I want it shamefully on display.”

Instinctively, I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and it only took seconds for him to be behind me, administering another sharp smack to my backside that apparently was meant to supply me with a moment of clarity.

Naturally, he didn’t appreciate the eye roll. “Okay, okay, you can stop now. I get the point.”

“My dear,” he said, his tone filled with chastisement, “I will punish you for any disobedience while you are living under my roof. Continue to test me, and I will continue to punish you. Lori, we both know you are an intelligent woman, so I can’t believe you don’t understand the idea there will be consequences for your actions. Now then, which part of that sentence didn’t you comprehend?”

The truth was—I did understand him perfectly. So, why did I rush to disobey him on the first night of my training? Was he correct in thinking I was testing him, or was I really testing myself? Anyone who knows me could substantiate the fact I’d never been a compliant person. Not as a child, and certainly not as an adult. In fact, I’ve spent most of my life going out of my way not to follow the rules. Which is probably why I stopped writing mystery novels to pen erotic spanking romance stories. I held my breath for a brief time before answering him. And that’s when he surprised me by separating my buttocks with his hand, firmly pressing his finger onto my anus.

“Humility and submission go hand in hand. Does my girl need another shameful lesson before she answers her Daddy respectfully?”

Air rushed from my lungs as his thick finger breeched my tight hole. I wanted to answer him, but the damn words just wouldn’t come.

“There are many ways to punish a naughty girl,” he grated out in a husky tone as he removed his finger to smack my ass. “Now do you understand?”

I wasn’t certain what it was about this man that beguiled me, but at that juncture everything became crystal clear. In some dirty way, my new trainer’s methods were shaming me and turning me on at the same time. Finally, the light bulb in my brain shone bright with a better appreciation of why this lifestyle has been popular for generations. “Yes, sir. I understand completely.”