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“Daddy, please! Not there. Please, not there!”
He didn’t listen to a single word I said.
Without a word, he smacked the spoon between my thighs and the sting was instant. My vision went white with exquisite agony, and I keened.
Oh, God.
Quickly, he snapped the wooden implement between my thighs once again. This time, the sting was fiercer, harsher, and I sobbed.
He smacked between my legs several more times and that made me cry even harder.
By the time he finally put down the horrid thing, I was one very, very sorry little girl.
For several long moments, I wasn’t capable of words. I simply wept until the sting began to lessen. Eventually, I sniffled and lifted my head.
“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” I whimpered. “I won’t ever lie to you again, I promise.”
“Shh,” he soothed, gathering me in his arms. His hands ran up and down my back and over the curve of my punished bottom. He held me like that, rocking me back and forth as the burn continued to sear through me. When my sniffles had quieted, he pressed his lips to the side of my head and kissed me gently.
“Bend back over the table, little girl. It’s time Daddy dealt with that naughty little asshole of yours,” he dictated, and my heart skipped a beat.
Fuck.
My mouth dropped open and I wanted to protest, but he didn’t give me the chance.
Instead, he gently lifted me off his lap and put me on my feet. Then, he placed his hands on my shoulders and nudged me forward, guiding me back into position. The moment my palms brushed against the table, I started to tremble just the slightest bit, but when his hand brushed against my lower back, I felt my body relax, his touch a small comfort.
Then he pulled his hand away, rounded the table, grabbed something off the counter and sat down in the seat opposite to me. With a heavy swallow, I watched him pull several items out of the bag, one of them being a knife and the other being a chunk of ginger.
“Daddy?” I asked, gazing back at him with a bit of confusion. Was he going to cook dinner for me? Why did he need so much ginger?
He didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he grabbed the knife and the piece of ginger and began to peel off the outside layer. I watched the knife carve along the surface, my confusion growing as he carved it into a point. It wasn’t long before the scent of it filled the kitchen, sharp and spicy and almost like cloves.
Gradually, he carved the root down to a long, rounded shape with a bulbous end. It soon became clear what he was doing.
Oh, fuck…
It was the same shape as a butt plug.
I may have been innocent before Maxim, but I was well versed enough to be able to recognize that. I’d grown up in the era of the internet and television.
I pressed against the table and shot up.
“Back in position, naughty girl. Don’t make me tell you again.”
I shook my head, my nerves getting the best of me. I didn’t want that thing inside me. I hadn’t taken anything more than his thumb in my ass before and I wasn’t ready to.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He slowly scored the ginger root with the knife, and I got a sinking feeling that whatever he was doing wasn’t going to be good for me.
“It’s ginger, Riley. Now if you had been a good girl and told Daddy about your real identity when he asked you the first time, you would simply be getting the bottom fucking you still have coming, but you didn’t, did you?”
My heart seemed to be permanently lodged in the back of my throat. I didn’t want to answer, but his expectation seemed to carry through the air between us and I found myself speaking even though I didn’t think it possible.
“No, Daddy.”
“No. You didn’t,” he said, appraising me with a dark look. He dragged the edge of the knife along the ginger root. “So, let me tell you what’s going to happen next. Daddy is going to put this ginger in your naughty little asshole and then we’re going to wait.”
