So far nothing too terrible had happened. The plug in her ass was unexpected but it wasn’t too uncomfortable. Maybe punishment wasn’t going to be a bad thing after all.
She was congratulating herself on being able to handle it without too much fuss, when things took a turn for the worse. She saw him pick up something from the table and then he moved out of her view. A second later there was a slight whooshing sound of something swinging through the air. She heard the crack of it landing and it took about a second for the pain to follow and force a loud yelp out of her.
She had no idea what he had just smacked her with. It was something hard and wooden, she knew that much. “Sam! I mean Daddy! That’s too hard!” The surprise of the sudden sting forced the words out in a panicked squeal. She hoped the slip wouldn’t get her in more trouble and there was a long pause that worried her, but he must have decided to let it go because he didn’t mention it.
“Sorry, Charlie. Bad girls don’t get warmups when they’re being punished. If you want sexy and slow so you can enjoy it then you have to behave yourself.”
He didn’t sound sorry at all.
There was the whooshing sound again and a sturdy pop to the other cheek that had her gasping. She tried to hold on to the arousal that would turn the burning into something she liked, but he didn’t seem inclined to allow that. There was no rubbing, no long pauses between each whack of the—whatever it was, just a steady *WHOP* *WHOP* *WHOP* of it landing across her cheeks.
They weren’t the hardest spanks she’d ever gotten from him. Not even close. It was just that there was usually some foreplay going on and she wasn’t really fond of wood to begin with. Sting was more enjoyable, but then Sam knew that, knew her preferences and could use them against her now.
She had a feeling he was going to make sure this was no fun at all.
Chapter 11
Her view consisted of the floor beneath her head and a small slice of the room directly in front of her. The way she straddled the barrel of the saddle rack made it impossible to even twist around to see what he was using on her. She wasn’t a fan of it; it somehow managed to leave both a searing surface sting, and a solid ache deep down each time it smacked against her vulnerable backside.
Another swat landed, and this one crossed both cheeks. She could tell now that it was long and not too wide across. It didn’t feel like a paddle and she couldn’t think of what else it might be… a yardstick maybe? But it was too solid for that, and it had a little more curve to it.
Then she realized what it might be. The sweat scrapers they used on the horses were made of plastic now, but they used to be made of a nice sturdy wood. Sam had kept one of them when they’d switched over a few years back saying, “This might make a fun toy to play with.”
He’d never actually used it on her, but if that’s what it was, she could assure him it wasnota fun toy to play with. Maybe it would have been if he’d started out slow. The way it curved did have an interesting effect in that it seemed to fit the shape of her ass at times. But he wasn’t trying to be nice and it showed.
He had started at the middle of her ass and then had moved up slowly. The sturdy smacks seemed to overlap each other; not even the tiniest area escaped his wrath. Once he got to the apex of her cheeks, he started back down again and that was worse. Now he was covering the same area, and each time the implement crashed down it layered a new swath of heat and sting across her skin until she felt like she was on fire.
But there was something…
“Whatisthat?!” The question burst from her lips as the next stroke landed just below where she could feel the plug peeking out between her cheeks. Again she clenched tight around it, afraid it would fall out from all the jiggling, but she was starting to realize the fire wasn’t just on the surface of her skin, it was also building inside.
“It’s called a spanking, Charlie.” He laughed and tapped one heated cheek with the tip of his toy. “Or did you mean what am I using to turn your ass nice and red?”
“No! You’re using that stupid scraper you saved when you got rid of my granddad’s tools. I meant why is… something’s wrong! Please, take that plug out!” It wasn’t a request; it was a demand. She squirmed desperately trying to stop whatever was happening to her. Unfortunately, the squirming also included flexing her ass cheeks and that seemed to ramp up the itching, burning sensation inside.
“Oh, you finally noticed, huh? Surprised it took so long. Sorry, Charlie girl but the ginger is staying right where it is,” he said, sounding amused.
Ginger! She’d read about ginger, and figging. Oh no, she didn’t want this at all and immediately set about trying to push it out, as embarrassing as that was, but Sam had been watching for that and he stopped her with several sharp smacks with the scraper right across her thigh. Those were terrible and she yelped loudly.
“Uh-uh, little girl. Don’t do it,” he said in a scolding voice. He gripped the end that was sticking out and twisted it inside her. As if that wasn’t enough, he began to draw it out, and then push it back in firmly. He did it a few times and each time seemed to make it worse.
“What is it? Please, Daddy. I don’t like it!” She hated the whine in her tone, and she also hated that she wasn’t entirely telling the truth. Part of her didlikeit.
The feeling was indescribable. She realized now that it had started as soon as he’d pushed it into her tightly puckered hole, but it had built so slowly that she hadn’t realized what was happening at first because of too many sensations at once. Not until it suddenly tipped over a threshold, and she could no longer ignore it.
The weirdest part about it was that the itch and burn in her ass was somehow weirdly erotic. She hated it and wanted it out immediately, but at the same time it was doing things to her body. There seems to be a cord connecting her clit to the intruder in her ass and she gave an experimental squeeze just to test it.
There it was again—a hideous burning that was making her desperate to eject it, but at the same time there was a lazy pulse between her legs. She gasped and let out a long low moaning sound.
“I was beginning to think the stories about ginger were overrated, but I guess not,” Sam said, chuckling. “If I were you, I’d stop squeezing; it’s only going to get worse.”
She knew he was right, but then he began to spank again, and it didn’t matter because she couldn’t help the reflexive way her ass clenched when she heard the whooshing sound of the scraper coming down. He had to have known that.
Dozens more swats landed across her ass and thighs. Her arms and legs started to flail but the ropes didn’t give her much leeway, so all her struggling did was cause her to rock back and forth on the stand—muscles straining for freedom. It seemed to go on for hours and set her into an unholy cycle she couldn’t seem to break free from.
The scraper would crash across her rump and she’d tighten all her muscles, jerking in response, but each time she clenched around the ginger there was an instant increase in sensations and there would be a few seconds where it was all overwhelming. She’d hurry to relax again so it would die down, but all the flexing was ramping up the arousal.
Smack!
