Daddy's Little Liar - Maren Smith Page 0,20

she’d ever forget.

All trace of the porno movie influence was gone. She couldn’t even dwell on the kink facet anymore. From the moment the flat of his hand smacked the curve of her skirt-clad backside, all Georgia cared about was what she’d done. How awful it was, then how awful she was. One wrong decision after another, she had brought herself to such a point, a perfect stranger felt the need to put her over his lap like a misbehaving child and physically correct her.

His hard hand caught her again, and Georgia winced. She put a hand back but stopped herself in time. Instinctively, she knew better. At least he was letting her keep her skirt on.

Ow. She winced even more sharply, her feet kicking up behind her. Right bottom cheek to left and back again, steady as a damned metronome, Daddy smacked her ass. It was stinging, which made it hard to wallow in her pity pit. She tried to block him out, but he was picking up steam, and the steady rise and fall of his hand came cracking down faster than before. Harder too, or maybe it only felt like that because the sting was growing hotter. More than just a sting, it actually hurt.

“Ow!” She rolled her lips, locking them to keep from saying anything more embarrassing. Every two or three swats of his hand, hers tried again to dash back from his knee to cover her unprotected flesh, and she had to catch herself. She felt childish enough without covering her bottom with her palm turned up and fingers desperately splayed to block him. Not that such a thing would work. Things like that never worked, and she’d only feel worse about herself.

For heaven’s sake, it was just a spanking. She’d earned it, she deserved it, and she could take it. If grown women knew nothing else, it was how to take the lumps they were dealt whenever they screwed up. Something that would be infinitely easier to bear right now if he’d just stop hitting that same stupid spot!

“Ow!” she yelped. She could have cared less about the embarrassment. Every nerve was keying into the steady smack-smack-smacking of his iron-hard palm as it rained down all over her ass. No longer predictably falling right to left, back and forth, the smacks were growing chaotic. He swatted the center of one cheek multiple times, then dashed to the other side and dealt the other more of the same. The sting was gone. Hurt had taken its place.

Spankings really, really hurt—why hadn’t someone told her before now? She would never have agreed to this had she known. She might not have pulled her car off the damn interstate, either.

“Ouch, ow! Wait! Not there, not there!” Her hand lost contact with his knee yet again, but she forgot about not interfering. Slapping back, flailing in a mad effort to catch his arm, she did but only long enough for him to lock her misbehaving hand in the grip of the arm already hugging her hips.

A wisp of cool air swept up the backs of her thighs and over her burning ass as he yanked her skirt up. He tucked it under his arm, baring her naked bottom to the full force and effect of his discipline.

“Not there!” she cried out, but ‘there’ was exactly where he struck her. The entire surface of her ass was hot as the worst sunburn she’d ever had, but instead of helping her get in out of the rays, Daddy had her locked down. His spanking hand kept returning to the sore areas, smacking again and again, harder and harder. Even when he wasn’t hitting the same spot, the swats were overlapping the sides of her bottom, the upper swells, the lower curve, and that excruciatingly sensitive place at the top of her thighs that made her feet kick up in belated defense of a backside that couldn’t possibly bear any more. Surely, he was going to stop now. He had to stop!

“Please!” she shrieked. She couldn’t take anymore!

Except she could, and he was only too willing to show her what she could and would take while she was pinned across his knee.

His palm was relentless. He didn’t care how much she pleaded or cried, and she’d lost the only hope she had of breaking free. She would never lie to another mechanic again for as long as she lived. His grip was without compromise, and now that they were skin to