Punished

She waited eagerly in the empty house, wiggling and giggling to herself in anticipation every so often. Daddy was due home from work soon, and she just knew they were going to have fun as soon as he opened that door.

She knew because she had stacked the deck.

It was a lovely day, the kind of day that started off chilly, then got unexpectedly warm right around 2 in the afternoon. The kind of day that would require turning on the air conditioner, where a surprise may or may not have been placed for him.

She laughed to herself as she thought of Daddy’s beard being covered in the sparkling glitter she may or may not have carefully distributed at the edges of the vents and how it would feel against her skin.

The door opened and she shuddered in anticipation, sprawled naked across the bed.

His figure loomed in the doorway and he looked rather irritated. She shimmied her hips on the bed and threw a flirty glance over her shoulder at him. He slowly advanced on her, and as he got closer, she noticed that he sparkled so prettily.

With a quick lunge, her Daddy had her pinned to the bed, arm snaked under her so she couldn’t escape, and his hand gently caressed her bottom. She felt the wetness begin to pool in anticipation of his blows, and how she would taunt him to make those blows harder.

She felt his teeth nipping at her round bottom, and she tried to wiggle against him, but was unsuccessful.

“Princess,” her Daddy said firmly, “you wouldn’t have had anything to do with the glitter that mysteriously found its way into my air vents, now would you.”

Somehow, it wasn’t a question.

“Daddy, whyever would you think something like that?”

His eyes narrowed and she suddenly found a gag between her lips.

“If you can’t be a good little girl and tell the truth, then you don’t get to use your words today, Princess,” he growled. “You know what naughty girls get.”

She nodded eagerly and made happy noises around the gag.

“But you don’t know what bad girls get,” he laughed.

She didn’t see where the rope came from, but her wrists were suddenly wrapped and secured to the bedposts. Daddy took his time securing her kicking feet. She felt a mask slide into place covering her eyes, then all she could do was feel.

The scratching sensation across her skin of beard and glitter.

And then nothing.

Wet and aching, desperate to feel his hands against her bottom, his flogger across her skin, he’d left her all tied up. He felt her squirm and settled in next to her to watch the next episode of the Witcher.

And all she could do was listen.