Sam stood leaning against the doorway to her bedroom. She hadn't obeyed him; she'd been cheeky. No chance of sleeping in Daddy's bed last night - he'd sent her to her own room, her own single bed. He'd heard her sobbing and it had almost broken him; he'd be lying if he didn't admit that the absence of her soft skin had made it difficult for him to sleep last night. But rules are rules.
He crossed the carpet to her bed - an old fashioned metal bedstead, perfect for restraining her to when she was especially naughty. He hadn't had to use it like that for a long time and sometimes wished she would misbehave so he could revisit the old days with her. He sat, the springs creaking against the introduction of his weight. He saw her start, just a slight movement; ah, she was pretending to be asleep then. He stroked the back of his index finger down her neck.
"Are you awake Little?"
No answer. Sam cocked his eyebrow- he knew the way she was playing it. His finger trailed lightly over her bare shoulder and he rubbed her arm where it lay over her sheets. He bent his head to her ear and murmured "I missed you last night Little". She pouted, all façade of sleep gone now, just a petulant refusal to open her eyes. Sam's little one could sulk for days when she felt slighted, or abandoned. But he knew just how to get her out of it. Her punishment was spending the night alone, but the night was done now. He lifted her sheets and slid into her tiny bed, moulding his body alongside hers. He lay beside her propped up on one arm toying with the ribbon of her black lace babydoll with his free hand. "Are you going to be a good girl for me today Sweetie?" he leaned down and nipped her earlobe. The pout turned into a smile, but her eyes stayed shut. "Sweetie, I asked you a question. Are you going to be a good girl for me?" Sam slid his hand down to her ass and grabbed it, digging his nails in for emphasis. She smirked.
"Maybe."
Sam felt a stirring in his boxers. He'd wondered if she'd play it this way, double down. She knew what would happen, even though it hadn't happened for so long.
"You may be 25 but you're not too big to be disciplined you know." Sam growled at her. He stood and threw the covers off her unceremoniously. He went to the chair in the corner of the room, the one with no arms, which was just the right height. "Get over here. Now. I'm not joking Little." His anger at her petulance was tinged with lust. He stared at her as she got out of bed, black lace babydoll brushing against her porcelain white skin, her large breasts barely contained by the lace and ribbon bows. She walked to him with her gaze lowered to the floor, stopping at the side of his legs. He was tall; so much taller than her, so he grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly down across his lap. She yelped and he felt another stirring. Not yet. Discipline first.
"You've gotten too cocky, little one. How many smacks do cocky little girls get?" Her chest was heaving against his knee. "Maybe I'll keep it secret."
Sam raised his hand and brought it down on her behind with a crack. She cried out; his hand stung so her soft backside must have felt it more, even though it was still covered with lace. A little protection; he couldn't be having that. He flipped the lace up to reveal the thong she was wearing that went with it, the matching black lace fastened with a bow. That will come in handy later. A lighter smack this time, less of a cry from her. He kept them coming, fast and light, red hand prints blooming on her glorious ass. He knew she could feel his hard cock against her belly; she knew what punishing her did to him. He went for another hard one, she cried out again. Her breath hitched as she breathed, he knew she would have a tear rolling down her face from the pain.
"Are you going to behave yourself?" Sam emphasised every word with a smack. She would be bruised later; it would hurt her to sit; she would remember this.
"Yes"
