His Firm Hand (10 page)

“I’m so sorry, it was all my fault,” Denise interrupted. “After spending a stressful day in interview sessions, I got all excited and prodded Michele into shopping in the store.” Denise was obviously blathering in a feeble attempt to cover for her sister. “And guess what? I’m moving out this weekend! Mmm, spaghetti, that sounds wonderful,” she said, looking over to Michele for approval.

Paul peered suspiciously back and forth at both of them. “I brought home an apple pie and can top it off with ice cream for dessert. How does that sound?”

Denise pulled Michele aside as Paul walked into the kitchen. “Can’t you tell him we already ate? I’ll burst if I have to eat a plateful of pasta.”

“Denise, I’m not going to hurt his feelings after all the trouble he went through to make dinner for us, so just eat what you can. Maybe that will put him in a good mood.”

* * *

“Paul, you outdid yourself—the spaghetti was wonderful,” Denise complimented as she slid her full plate away.

“You hardly touched it. Are you sure it was okay?”

“My tummy is still nervous after all that happened today,” Denise commented, dramatically rubbing her midsection.

Michele rolled her eyes in response.
Our age-play is teenage—not pre-school
, she thought to herself.

Paul obviously had a hard time hiding his smile. “I hope you saved room for dessert. The pie is heating up in the oven.” He wiped his mouth and quickly retreated from the table.

Denise looked at Michele.
“I think I’m going to explode,”
she mouthed
,
puffing her cheeks like a blowfish.

“Apple pie with vanilla ice cream, for my favorite girls.”

“Thanks, daddy,” Michele mumbled unenthusiastically.

“Thanks, Paul,” Denise echoed.

“You two finish up. After I take a shower, I’ll come back down to clean up.”

Paul left Denise and Michele staring at their respective plates.

“Michele, do I really have to eat this? God, where’s a dog when you need one?”

“When we hear the shower running, I’ll shove it all down the disposal.”

“Michele, did it occur to you that he did this on purpose?”

“Of course, but I’d be interested to hear your take on it.”

“Well, I’m just speculating, but when we came through the front door with all the packages, I could tell he wasn’t pleased. I just can’t figure out how he’d know we already ate?”

“I told you, Paul has the nose of a bloodhound. He probably smelled the burgers and fries on us.” Michele laughed, cocking her head to the side. “Okay, I hear the shower, so let’s take care of the pie before he returns. I feel a
survival of the fittest
game coming on.”

Paul came back downstairs to find Denise and Michele sitting at the table, with not a scrap of food left on either plate in front of them. “Well, I see you both enjoyed the pie and ice cream. Do you want more?”

“Dessert was wonderful, but we can’t eat another bite, daddy.” She stretched her arms upward and yawned. “And I’m exhausted.”

“That makes two of us,” Denise chimed in, covering a fake yawn with her hand.

He checked his watch. “It’s only after eight, but I’m sure it’s been a long day. Before you put your pajamas on, how about hauling those bags upstairs. I’m guessing they
all
belong in our room. Is that right, Michelie?”

She nodded reluctantly.

“We can
discuss
it when I come up to say good night.” He winked at his wife before glancing at Denise.

After snagging all the bags, they began to carefully navigate their way up the stairs. Midway, Denise stopped and tapped Michele on the shoulder. “I think you’re in trouble again.”

“What would give you that idea, Einstein?”

* * *

After cleaning up the dishes, Paul walked into their room just as Michele turned over in bed.

“Are you here to tuck me in, or are you interested in joining me for a little snuggle?” she teased over her shoulder.

Paul crossed his arms and sat on the edge of the bed. “Neither. I thought we’d have a little
father/daughter chat
.”

Michele sat up in bed and pursed her lips. “Can I keep all of my purchases?”

“We can talk about that tomorrow. But tonight, we have a more pressing issue.”

“I know, I know.” She nodded and squirmed under the covers. “I should have called to tell you we already had dinner.”

“And then you lied to me and said you were famished. What’s going on with you? Didn’t we recently have a serious discussion about lying?”

She shrugged her slight shoulders. “But it was only a little white lie. I know you like to cook for me and didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I thought those kind of lies are okay,” she said, trying to form her best pouty face.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that you stopped for a hamburger?”

“Whoa! How did you know that?” She turned her head to peer at him out of one eye. “Do you have spies strategically placed around the city?”

He smiled. “No, it was really a coincidence. A friend of mine from the club saw you and Denise in the restaurant this afternoon being served a large cheeseburger and French fry platter, so he didn’t want to bother you.”

“Interesting that he took time out of his busy day to call you with that information,” she said suspiciously.

“He called because he made a tee-time for us this coming weekend. I guess the polite thing would have been to come over and introduce himself at the restaurant. He recognized you, but didn’t want to interrupt your meal.”

“What are the odds? I
totally
got thrown under the bus today by someone I don’t even know.”

Paul stood at the foot of the bed and crossed his arms. “It’s getting late, so maybe we should just get this over with.”

“Get what over with?” Michele scooted back up toward the wall.

“You lied to me and need to be punished.”

“But Denise is in the house,” she said, followed by a hard swallow.

He pulled his newly purchased lacquered paddle from under the bed. “What did I say would happen if you lied to me again?”

Her eyes widened like saucers. He’d said he bought the damn thing, but she hadn’t seen it yet. “I’m really sorry. I know you always cook dinner, but Denise got the job and wanted to celebrate. It seemed like the right thing to do at the moment.” Her words spilled with a quick cadence.

“It probably was, and your backside wouldn’t be in trouble if you’d done the respectful thing and called to tell me that you were stopping for an early dinner instead of lying to me.”

“It will
never
happen again. I promise.”

“Michele, the lying has to stop. And it’s going to stop
now
.” He tapped the wooden implement on his upper thigh.

Her lower lip quivered. “Can’t we wait until Denise is out of the house? She’ll be moving this weekend.”

“No,” he answered quietly. “You will come out from under those covers, this minute.”

After Michele obeyed, she gazed at him with her saddest eyes.

“Now turn around and lean forward with your hands on the bed.”

Placing her hands on the mattress, Michele took a deep breath and hung her head, knowing what his next instruction would be.
Why did I lie to him again? It’s never worth it
, she mused.

“Stick that bottom out,” he instructed, putting his hands on her hips, pulling her toward him so that her backside was pushed out dramatically. Paul lifted her soft cotton nightgown and touched the light, polished wood to her smooth, tender skin.

“I don’t like being lied to and hope this will help you to remember that. Do we understand each other, young lady?”

“Y-yes, daddy,” Michele whispered nervously.

Paul rubbed her sensitive skin and lightly pinched it. “I want this tush higher in the air. Lower your elbows.”

Michele whined. He was drawing this scene out to embarrass her, and all she wanted was for it to be over.

“Now spread your legs.” Paul tapped the paddle on the inside of her thighs.

Feeling exposed and vulnerable, Michele complied and closed her eyes in anticipation of the first smack.

“Oww!” she squealed, jumping upward from the first hard contact of the sturdy wood.

“Get back into position,” Paul warned and waited for Michele to hurry back into place. “I promised you a good hard spanking and that’s exactly what you will receive,” he said, raising the paddle high in the air before landing it squarely on each wobbly cheek.

“Aaah!” she yelled, with each swift whack to her smooth flesh. “Please, I promise!”

“Yes, you do a lot of
promising
, but this time, we need to make sure you’ll remember what the consequences are for lying to me.”

Michele squirmed and yelled each time the hard paddle smacked her tender cheeks. “Please, I’ll remember! I mean it this time!”

Paul smoothed her hot flesh with his hand as she whimpered. “What are you going to remember, kitten?”

“Never, ever to lie to you again. Not
ever
!” she said almost in a whisper as her eyes leaked large tears.

“Okay, okay. I think you have
almost
learned your lesson,” Paul said as he helped her off the bed into a standing position.

“Almost?”

“You see, I always keep
my
promises,” he said in a soft tone, leading her across the room.

“But I’m so tired, and I hate the corner,” she murmured as tears continued to fill her eyes.”

“I know, baby doll. I know.” As they reached the corner, he tapped her nose and pointed to the wall. “I want to see
this
part of your body pressed against the smooth surface, and
this
part of your body needs to stick out,” he reminded with a firm smack to her rump.

Michele wiggled her buttocks from side to side, trying to relieve the burn as Paul calmly retreated to the other side of the room and sat down. “Raise your nightgown, Michele. You know the corner rules.” He glimpsed at his watch and sighed. “Do you think twenty minutes is enough time to muse over the promises you made today, my sweet girl?”

Michele nodded as she lifted the soft fabric and bunched it up around the small of her back. Though she hated standing in the dreaded corner, it did give her time to cool down after a spanking, and she always looked forward to snuggling in Paul’s arms afterward.

When exactly twenty minutes had passed, Paul spoke clearly. “Michele Anne Fazio, have you had enough time to think?”

She knew those words were her cue that corner time was over, and turned to sprint across the room, falling into his arms. “I’m sorry, I really am,” she mewled as he pulled her onto his lap and cradled her head against his large chest. Her nightgown had shifted up, so her sore, bare bottom rested on his jean-clad thighs, but she didn’t worry about the discomfort. It felt good to be in the arms of the man who loved her, and the day’s stress poured down her face in the form of sizable, salty tears.

“I’m glad you and your sister were able to spend some quality time together,” Paul soothed, running his fingers through her hair.

“It was great for our relationship, but not so good for my heinie.” She looked up at him through puffy eyes. “Do you think Denise heard us?”

“Not over the music blasting in her room,” he joked. “You probably didn’t even notice that she turned the CD player on. I furnished her with a couple of hard rock selections ahead of time.”

“I first heard the sound coming from her room when you walked me to the corner,” she admitted. “Funny, I used to blare music when my dad yelled at her.” She repositioned herself in his lap and tried to pull the nightgown over her sore bottom.

He shook his head. “Don’t move. That sore backside against my jeans needs to serve as a reminder, pumpkin,” he instructed in a soft voice, stroking circles around her back.

Michele nodded, figuring he also didn’t want her to bump into his cock that was rock hard.
After all, it’s only Tuesday
, she thought.

Chapter Nine

Denise waddled down the stairs with an armful of clothes. “God, I haven’t been here very long, and somehow it feels like my stuff multiplied. Michele, where are you? I need more help!” she pleaded.

“Denise, I’m hauling as fast as I can. Paul will be here with the van at ten sharp and wants us to be ready. Trust me, doing this twice in the matter of a week wasn’t my idea of fun either.”
Now I know why people will do almost anything for their friends except help them move
,
she thought. Michele picked up the basket of dirty laundry Denise had left behind. “Denise, try not to move again until next year!” she yelled.

“I can still hear—I’m not deaf,” she responded from the bottom of the stairs.

Step by step, Michele worked her way downward to the entrance hall. “I should’ve just hired a couple of students, they’re always looking to make an extra buck. Although Paul would
never
have approved of that—”

“Uh-oh, keep your voice down,” Denise warned.

“I’m also not deaf,” Paul called out from the front door. “Here, sweetie, let me take that from you.”

Paul reached out for the basket just as Michele put her foot on the last step of the stairs and fell forward, landing with a loud thud on the floor. Paul quickly slid the plastic laundry basket out of the way and put his arm around her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Michele winced, grabbing at her ankle. “I think I twisted it… damn, that hurts.”

“Oh, my God, are you okay?” Denise shrieked.

“Here, let me look at it.” Paul cautiously lifted her leg before he poked and prodded. “You’re lucky I’m on staff here,” he teased. “I don’t think anything is broken—it’s most likely a minor sprain. But just to be sure, I’ll drive you to the Quick Care down the street. After they x-ray the ankle, we’ll know exactly what we’re dealing with. Denise, would you help me get my girl into the car?”

With Denise on one side and Paul on the other, they lifted Michele off the floor. “I see you’ll do just about anything for attention,” Denise joked.