Page 14 of Hunter's Baby Girl

He growled softly, and I felt myself respond to him immediately. Then the feeling of hard wood slapping against my bare skin swept all thought out of my mind, replacing it with total pleasure.

“Mmmm . . .” I couldn’t help moaning softly.

“I better not hear you enjoying this, Little Girl,” he murmured. “How else will you learn what not to do?” I felt a sharper smack from the spoon, and I jumped as if shocked. Within a moment, though, the sting disappeared as it always did, and all that was left was the pleasure.

Smack!“Tell me,” he said. Smack!

“Tell you what?” I gasped. Smack!

“Tell me how you’ll do as you’re told from now on.” Smack! Smack!

“I will,” I groaned.

Smack!This time, even harder. “Tell me you’ll do as you’re told.”

“I’ll do as I’m told!” I cried out. It was difficult to think or speak clearly. The delicious sensations were driving me insane and tearing me apart inside. I felt that familiar warmth between my legs, to match the warmth of my ass where the wood made contact.

Smack!“I only do this for your own good,” I heard him say. Smack!

I closed my eyes, holding on to the table for dear life. It was the only thing holding me up, since my knees were weak and my mind was miles away. Smack! I trembled, falling further and further into bliss. Smack!

“Tell Daddy you’ll be a good girl from now on.” He smacked with the spoon again, and again. I was losing my grip on myself, my consciousness focused only on what my Daddy was doing to me.

“I’ll be good, Daddy!” I cried out.

I reached the point again, as I had before, where each blow melded into the others and created just one, never-ending haze of pleasure. I was enveloped in it, all of my senses wrapped up in it. I heard myself whimpering and moaning, on and on. It was an all-encompassing level I’d never experienced before. I was lost to it.

I had no idea how long I lay across the table after my spanking was over; all I know is that I heard Hunter calling my name as if from far away.

“Hayley? Hayley,” Hunter was saying, crouched beside the table. I opened my eyes and saw him there, with a look of concern on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked. I couldn’t speak. All I could do was close my eyes again and smile, slowly. I hadn’t come, but I still felt the experience of post-orgasmic bliss. My muscles were relaxed, and I felt a sense of satisfaction wash over me.

He gently rubbed my back and murmured softly as I came back to reality. Finally, after endless minutes, I opened my eyes again and saw him there. Still there, still caring for me.

“That was . . . special,” I whispered. He chuckled.

“I could tell it was,” he said with a smile. “So . . . do you actually want dinner?”

I had to laugh; I’d totally forgotten about our real dinner. I’d intended to cook something for us, but I felt totally spent.

“It’s okay,” he said. “We can just order in.” He stood up and reviewed the menus hanging on the fridge. “Chinese?” he asked. I nodded and pushed myself up onto my palms. I still had to lean on the table for support.

“I can’t believe how out of it I am now,” I murmured, more to myself than to Hunter.

“That can happen sometimes,” he explained. “Especially if you’re really into it.” I had definitely been into it then. I told him what I wanted to eat for dinner, and he ordered while I sipped some water and got my head on straight.

We went to the living room, and Hunter sat on the sofa. He suggested I lay across his lap. I gave him a skeptical look.

“Not for that, I promise,” he laughed. He pointed to the bottle of lotion he’d brought with him, which sat beside him. “I thought I’d help you out a little. Lotion makes the sting feel better, especially when it has Vitamin E in it. You pick up on these little tidbits over time.”

“I’m glad one of us knows what they’re doing,” I said with a laugh of my own, and I lay across his legs. Unlike the last time I was in this position, we talked about life and our jobs and anything else that came to our minds.

“What do you do?” he asked, rubbing the creamy, cool lotion into my skin with great gentleness.

“I’m an assistant at an investment company,” I told him. “It’s about as glamorous as it sounds.”

“You don’t sound very happy about it,” he pointed out.