I can’t believe how stupid I was. Curiosity killed the cat and it almost killed me. If Judge Reynolds hadn’t taken me to Doctor Franklin, life could have taken a dark turn for me. How was I supposed to know Judge Reynolds’ generosity nearly destroyed his marriage to Chéri?
There are always things that can go wrong in a marriage, especially one as unique as Michael’s and mine. I’ll admit, the little girl in me worried about such things. Never in a million years did I imagine watching my husband, the man I called Daddy, betray me. I felt gut-punched, speechless. To bury the pain, I allowed one emotion to guide me: revenge.
Publisher’s Note: This romance is meant for adults only. It contains the dynamics of age-play, including explicit scenes, as well as elements of power exchange and domestic discipline. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase.
“I don’t care what you think you saw, you were mistaken,” Susan insisted, picking up her drink. “Michael would never betray you, surely you know that?”
“You weren’t there,” Chéri hissed, looking around the crowded club. “How did you get out anyway? Mark would never approve,” Chéri nearly sneered as she drained her cocktail. “God forbid we have a little fun without them,” she continued with a snort. “I’ll have another,” she told a passing waitress.
“Chéri please, please listen to me,” Susan pleaded, reaching for Chéri’s hand. “It’s all a misunderstanding. That girl…”
“Don’t even mention her name,” Chéri snapped. “Did you tell your daddy where you were going?” she asked, suddenly alarmed and peering into the semi gloom that surrounded them.
“Of course, I didn’t. They would be here in a heartbeat. I’d never put you in that position. We’re friends,” Susan replied sadly.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take it out on you,” Chéri sighed, squeezing Susan’s hand before releasing it and digging in her purse to hand the waitress a twenty. “Keep the change.”
“This whole thing works for you and Mark. I can see that, but it’s not working for Michael and me. I thought it was,” Chéri said quietly, staring into her glass. “I was so happy. I thought we were happy. I loved everything about our new life. He took such good care of me.”
“So, call him and…”
“That was before I discovered that one babygirl wasn’t enough for him,” Chéri stated bitterly, draining her drink.
“Oh my God, there’s no reasoning with you,” Susan yelled above the music. “Michael was right. You’re the most stubborn woman on the face of the planet. No wonder he’s chomping at the bit to get his hands on you. I ought to call him right now and tell him where we are!”
“You’ve spoken with him?”
“Of course, I have. Do you think I’d try to influence your decision if I didn’t know the truth?”
“The truth from him? He wouldn’t know the truth if it bit him on the ass,” Chéri snorted, flagging down the waitress. “I’ll have another.”
“No, she won’t,” Susan contradicted, sliding off the pub stool and grabbing Chéri by the arm. “You’re drunk and I’m taking you home.”
“I don’t want to go home.”
“Too fucking bad. I’m not leaving you here. You either come with me now or I’m calling your husband and telling him where you are. Believe me, that is not what you want to happen.”
“You’d rat me out?” Chéri asked incredulously.
“In this situation, yes.” Susan firmly led a stumbling Chéri to the door.
“I thought we were friends,” Chéri wailed in drunken protest.
“We are, and friends don’t leave friends in strange bars, drunk off their asses with numerous men checking them out.”
As soon as Chéri hit the air she staggered, grasping Susan’s arm.
“Crap, I am drunk.”
“That’s what I said. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
“All right, I’ll go with you, but you are not to mention his name,” she demanded. Straightening, she tottered toward Susan’s BMW.
“Fine, but don’t you dare puke in my car.”
An hour later, Susan pulled up in front of the beautiful chalet she called home. It had taken a while to get her friend inside her house and up to bed. Mark was waiting for her outside the massive front door.
“Oh, Daddy,” Susan sighed as she walked into his arms. “It was all for nothing. Chéri isn’t going to budge. She doesn’t believe a word of Michael’s story.”
“That bad?” her husband asked as he walked into the house with her tucked close to his side.
“Worse than bad. She won’t even agree to talk to him, let alone see him. I feel so bad for her,” Susan said with a sniffle.
“Bad for her?” Mark demanded. “She’s not the one who came home from work one night to find all the locks had been changed and the alarm system recoded. She’s not the one who had to wait a week before being allowed to pick up his clothes from the garage. She’s not footing the bill for a hotel and she’s not been accused of something she didn’t do.”
“I know, but she is suffering and believes her daddy has been unfaithful. A cheating husband is one thing, but a daddy who cheats is something else. He’s the one you’ve revealed all of your inner self to and to have him prefer another woman, especially a younger woman to you has to be devastating,” she insisted in defense of her friend.
“But it’s not true. Michael is the injured party here, not Chéri,” Mark maintained forcefully.
“I know he didn’t really do anything wrong, but it looked that way to Chéri and I have to say if I were in her shoes and witnessed what she did I would probably feel the same way.”
“And you would be completely wrong,” Mark snapped.
“It wouldn’t stop me from drinking myself into oblivion.”
“She was drunk?”
“Drunk as a skunk,” Susan admitted. “I could barely get her in the house and up to bed. I’m not even sure I should have left her alone,” she continued sadly.
“You should have called. Michael and I could have been there to help in a matter of minutes.”
“I would never betray my best friend like that,” Susan snapped. “Not after what she’s been through.”
“She brought it all on herself,” Mark shot back, raising his voice for the first time. Susan was not intimidated.
“That may be, Daddy, but let me catch you holding some sobbing young thing with her arms curled around your neck as you carry her to your car and whisk her away and see what happens!”
“Are you threatening me, little girl?” he asked darkly.
“I would consider it more of a promise,” she answered defiantly, tilting her chin up in challenge.
“Hilda,” Mark bellowed.
The housekeeper appeared almost immediately.
“Yes, sir,” she said meekly.
“Bring an ice bag up to my wife in an hour,” he ordered as Susan gasped and took a step away from him.
“Is Mrs. Richardson ill?” Hilda asked worriedly.
“Not at all,” Mark replied, taking Susan’s arm and walking her toward the curving staircase. At the bottom step he swept her up into his arms and carried her easily while she fidgeted. He didn’t set her on her feet until they’d reached the dressing room attached to her closet.
Methodically he undressed her not saying a word.
“Hush,” he snapped as he knelt, slipping off her high heels and peeling her stockings down.
“I didn’t mean to be…”
“I said, be still!”
He was slightly mollified when she merely sniffled and clamped her lips together. Mark unzipped her short red dress, pulled it over her head and hung it up. After unfastening her bra and pulling down her panties, he tossed them both into the hamper.
From her closet he removed a white cotton nightgown with tiny pink rosettes around the ruffled hem and slipped it over her head. It ended at mid-thigh. Taking her hand, he led her barefoot to her vanity and pressed her down on the bench.
Susan shivered as he pulled the pins from her hair and tossed them into a crystal dish. Picking up her heavy brush, he began to pull it through her long dark hair until it fell in smooth waves down her back. Her shivering increased when he finally began to speak.
“Michael and Chéri are our very dear friends and we will support them no matter what happens,” he stated firmly. “What we will not do is let their current difficulties affect our relationship. I am your daddy and you are my babygirl. That comes before all else.
“You will obey me without question or protest. You will speak respectfully to me at all times and you will never, never threaten me, is that clear?” he demanded, meeting her eyes in the mirror.
“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered. “I just…”
“Quiet! This is not the time for you to speak. I love you with all my heart, but I will not tolerate disobedience or rudeness. This is not a new rule, but something we have based our relationship on for years. Some things are not open for discussion. This is one of them.”
Susan nodded and blushed, lowering her eyes.
“Good,” he sighed, “you understand.” Leaning forward he placed both of his big hands on her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Come,” he said, releasing her shoulders and taking her hand in his. She could not fail to notice that he also picked the hairbrush back up.
Leading her to the settee, he sat in the middle and guided her over his lap. Slowly he lifted her nightgown exposing her pale bottom cheeks.
“Your defense of your friend is honorable, babygirl,” he informed her as he gently cupped her bottom with his hand, “but you will not bring their problems into our marriage. You will not sass me or threaten me again. If you do, you will find yourself in a very uncomfortable position and Daddy will not be quite as forgiving as he’s being tonight. As they say, you will be in hot water, but it will be inside as well as out. Do you know what that means, baby?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Susan squeaked out.
“It means you will give me a very warm enema to punish me,” she whispered, squirming over his knees.
“Yes, babygirl, it means exactly that. One you will be forced to hold as I spank your lovely little bottom until you’re howling out your apologies. Tonight, you have behaved in typical naughty girl fashion, sassing me and challenging my authority. For that, you will be punished like the naughty little thing you are until Daddy is convinced you’ve learned your lesson.
“Now, I don’t want a lot of fussing and other nonsense at the onset. Save that for when I pick up the hairbrush,” he advised. “Take your spanking like a good girl. I’m not above having Hilda fetch a ginger root.”
“No, Daddy, please, I’ll be good and take my spanking,” she promised, looking at him over her shoulder as she clutched a throw pillow.
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” he replied. Almost immediately his hand began to fall in strong, swift swats. He did not count them, preferring to judge her repentance by the color of her cheeks and tenor of her cries. She didn’t hold still, of course. She never did. She wiggled and squirmed doing everything she could to avoid the spanking, barring putting her hands back. That was something she’d only done a few times and it resulted in her being restrained and getting the strap.
His little one hated the strap almost as much as she hated the cane. He only used them under dire circumstances, much preferring the sound and feel of his hand striking her bottom and upper thighs. It was much more personal and fit more closely in their daddy/babygirl lifestyle. As far as serious punishments, he had many methods of making her behave that did not mark her skin. He used them all when necessary.
Susan was crying openly by the time he judged she was ready for a paddling with the hairbrush. These strokes he did count. There were ten in all and by the time he finished her bottom was as red and shiny as a ripe apple. Satisfied with her howls of remorse he lifted her up, assisted her to the corner and pressed her nose in close.
“Hold up your nightie,” he ordered briskly. “I want to look at my naughty girl’s red bottom while I read over some papers.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she wailed, pulling up her gown and holding it in her tightly clenched fists.
It wasn’t long before Hilda knocked and entered the room, bearing an ice bag on a silver tray. If she was affected by the sight of his wife in the corner with her flaming bottom on display while he sat on the settee and read, she never showed it. She left as quietly as she entered, closing the door behind her.
Mark waited another ten minutes until his babygirl’s cries had turned to muffled whimpers and sniffles before he relented.
“Come here to Daddy,” he said kindly, holding open his arms when she turned.
Stumbling across the room, Susan fell into his arms. Mark held her on his lap, ignoring the gasps and moans that escaped her lips as her bright bottom made contact with his hard thighs. Placing a finger under her chin he tipped her head back and studied her tear streaked face. With a sigh he removed a handkerchief from his pocket and began to clean her up.
“Now, was it worth it to sass Daddy?” he asked gently.
“No,” she wailed.
“I didn’t think so and that’s why you got your little bottom spanked with my hand. Was it worth it to threaten me?”
“No,” she sobbed, trying to turn her head away.
Mark refused to allow it.
“No, it was not and that’s why you got the hairbrush tonight. I will not have my babygirl speaking to me in that manner. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she cried, wrapping her arms around him and hiding her face in the curve of his neck when he finally released her chin. “I’m so sorry.”
“I hope you mean that,” he replied, rubbing her back. “It’s not a rule that’s likely to change,” he continued, moving his hand lower and catching the tops of her red cheeks.
“I know,” she whispered trying to wiggle away.
“Sit still,” he ordered, easily lifting her and grasping her bottom firmly. “You know that’s not allowed. If Daddy feels the need to touch your punished bottom, he will,” he scolded.
“Sorry, Daddy,” she mumbled against his neck.
“Now, what are we going to do to help Chéri and Michael?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t know, Daddy. She seems pretty adamant about divorcing him.”
“Divorce?” he asked sharply. “I didn’t realize she was seriously thinking along those lines and I don’t think Michael does either.”
“Well, she is,” Susan replied. “Chéri is convinced that he’s found another little girl, younger and prettier than her.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Mark snapped. “Michael adores her. The circumstances surrounding what Chéri saw were extenuating. She needs to let him explain.”
“That’s what I suggested, but she wasn’t having it. She knows what she saw and won’t even consider that there may be a perfectly reasonable explanation. What is the explanation by the way?” she asked softly.
“To tell you the truth, baby, I’m not really sure. Michael only said that the young woman involved found herself in a very embarrassing and dangerous position and he had no choice but to help her. I know he took her to Dr. Franklin’s office and that she is staying there under his care, so it must be pretty serious.”
“Well, if you don’t know the truth how can you be so sure Michael did nothing wrong?” Susan asked, sitting up.
“Because I know Michael and I know how much he loves Chéri. He would never hurt her or do anything to jeopardize their marriage, just as I would never do anything to hurt you. You’re my baby and I love you more than life.”
“Oh, Daddy, I love you too. Can we talk about Michael and Chéri tomorrow? I’m kind of tired. Would you carry me to bed?”
“Of course, sweetheart,” Mark replied brushing the hair from Susan’s forehead. “Do you need your ice pack?”
“That depends on whether you’re sleeping with me, Daddy,” Susan answered with a grin. “There’s no sense in trying to cool off something that’s only going to get hotter.”
Mark laughed and rose with her in his arms.
“I guess we’ll leave it then,” he said firmly as he carried her into their room while she began to undo his tie.