Authors: Darla Phelps
She lay both on the trunk of her car and rubbed her sore hands. Her brief battle with the tree had left her palms red and her fingers cut in two places from when her grip had slipped and the bark had sliced her skin.
Where would Daddy spank her? She bit her lip again and looked around her. Probably right here, bent over the bumper of her escort so he'd have plenty of room to swing in with each stroke. She sniffled again and unbuttoned her pants, wiggling her jeans down to her knees even as she centered herself behind her car. With trembling fingers, just now beginning to detect footsteps coming down the winding driveway behind her, Meg pushed her panties down, too. She bent over the car, her arms folded to be a cushion for her head. Staring straight ahead at the trunk's flaking paint, Meg waited for the inevitable.
Though she couldn't bring herself to look back, Meg knew the moment Daddy saw her. His faint, crunching steps over the leaves and gravel momentarily paused. And when the sound of it finally did resume, the footfalls were at a more relaxed, strolling pace than before.
Daddy came up to the car, stopping beside her. He picked up one of the switches, looked at the mangled end where she'd struggled to separate it from the maple, then put it back down again. A moment later his warm hand settled on the small of her back.
"Look up," he said mildly. Meg sniffled forlornly as she raised her head and he waved a felt tip marker in front of her face. She blinked twice as she looked at it, then her expression changed, becoming more chagrined as he asked, "Where did you get this?"
She shifted her feet, meeting his eyes a little sheepishly. "From your study."
"What was the rule about Daddy's study, Meg?"
"Not to go in there without asking."
"And when did you get the marker?" he asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, despite the stern, knowing look in his eyes.
Meg bit her bottom lip. "While you were making breakfast."
"It is safe to say you didn't have permission to be in my study?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"Then why did you do it?"
"Cause I didn't want you to forget me," she whispered.
"Meg," he said patiently, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I'm not going to forget you. If I live to be a hundred, I wouldn't forget you. But I spent quite a lot of time making that highchair for you, and naughty girls who exercise their graffiti tendencies by writing, 'Meggy was here,' on the bottom of my handiwork, are setting themselves up for a very uncomfortable evening."
"You made that chair?" she asked softly.
"With my own two hands." He caught her arm and pulled her up from her bent position. "Come here."
With pants and panties around her knees, she shuffled into his arms, laying her head on his shoulder and clutching his shirt in her sore hands.
"Why the switches?" he asked, stroking her back.
"Because I thought you were comin' to spank me 'cause I didn't go home like I was 'posed to."
"Well, I didn't." He kissed her forehead. "I came out here to take you back home-my home-where you belong. This has been the longest hour of my life, and you couldn't even make it out of the driveway. So while I call Tonopah, Nevada, to see about renting a last minute U-Haul, I want you, little girl, to put your nose in the corner and think about that nice piece of furniture you wrote on. And when I get off the phone," his hands crept down her back to lay two ominous pats to her bare buttocks, "I am going to take a certain naughty girl across my knee and I am going to spank her little bottom until it is very hot and very sore and until she is very sorry indeed."
Meg shivered, but nodded. "She needs it."
"You can work from my living room as easily as you can work from yours, right?"
Meg nodded again, then looked uncertain. "My lease isn't up for another four months."
"You'll have to pay it from Oregon then, won't you?"
And she smiled. "Yes, Daddy."
"Good, then let's get this show on the road." He lay a single, stinging slap right to the center of naked bottom cheeks. It was hard enough to make Meg jump and squeal, and her hands darted back to rub. "Consider that a taste of what you're going to be getting, and don't forget your switches. You picked them, we may as well put at least one to good use."
Instead of pulling her panties and pants back up, Daddy stripped them off her altogether, leaving her dressed in only her socks and shoes and a t-shirt that didn't come down far enough in front to cover her, no matter how much she tugged at it.
"Let's go, Meggy." He opened the passenger door for her. "I can probably have you moved and me back to work by Monday, but first...." He fastened her seatbelt and shut the door. As he rounded the back and slid into the driver's seat, he started the engine. "Let's get you home and your little bottom paddled and switched."
* * * * *
Meggy bounced out of the back of the U-Haul and skipped back down the cement walk into her ground floor apartment. She was dressed in jean coveralls, with a Tweety Bird patch sewn to look as though it were jumping up out of her bib breast pocket. Daddy had put her hair in twin braids that hung down her back to her shoulders. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks were pink. She looked bubbly and happy and sexy and cute. And to the casual passerby, she had the appearance of a very excited woman, bouncing with energy as she shifted box after box into the back of the moving van. It would have taken the more attentive eye of a mommy or daddy, or perhaps another curious 'little' boy or girl to detect the faintest outline of a diaper under the coveralls, or to wonder with a smile at the little red ribbons tied to the ends of her braids.
"That's the last of the bedroom," she chirped to Daddy as she skipped around a corner of the living room and poked her head into the kitchen.
Daddy David lifted the heavy box into his arms and straightened his legs as he stood. "And this is the last one from the kitchen. Move, baby girl. I don't want to step on you." As he headed out the door, over his shoulder, he said, "I'll be back for the chair in a minute, so why don't you take one last look around. Make sure we didn't miss anything, okay?"
"Okay." Meg walked down the short hall to the empty bedroom and dutifully looked into the closets, opened the bathroom cabinets and swung back the louver doors to the cubby space that sufficed as a laundry room. Except for a couple of wire hangers and Nanna's rocking chair, protectively wrapped in several thick blankets, there was nothing left but vague wisps of memory for that lonely length of time that had stretched between Nanna's death and the beginning of her life with Daddy.
Content that nothing was being left behind, she went back to the living room and sat down in her favorite corner. She shifted gingerly, gasping as the elastic of her diaper pressed on a place made tender by a spanking soundly delivered earlier that afternoon. Daddy, apparently, was not at all shy about pulling his truck over to the side of the road to deal with mouthy little girls.
Meg smiled, feeling very lucky to have found such an attentive and devoted Daddy. It was hard to believe only ten days ago she had been crouched in this very corner too afraid to leave. She wasn't afraid this time; she was going onto something better. Much, much better. A whole brand new life for Meg, a successful website designer, Monday through Friday, from nine-to-five, and at all other times, for Meggy, Daddy's little girl.
The End
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This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.