Page 7 of Master Baldor
Chapter 3
Shelby
I knew taking out my fear and anxiety on the gorgeous Daddy-Dom was wrong, but I didn’t care. What happened with Peter shouldn’t have happened, and I felt justified in my reactions instead of bad when Baldor’s pretty eyes went dark and stormy, like the Atlantic Ocean. Let him know what it’s like to be thrown off your game and to be treated badly for what you were. If a man could make me feel bad about being me, then I would make him feel bad about being him.
But it’s not true, and you are being mean, Shelby Elizabeth.
I hated my conscience. It always spoke louder when I was being the worst version of myself. His barely controlled breathing should have acted as a warning to stop my badgering, but I was going for broke. Taking advantage of his placating words, I allowed my short fuse to reach the height of its tirade.
“I’m sick and tired of you Doms thinking you know everything. Seriously, I don’t think any of you know what you’re doing. And it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if you’re all just a bunch of whacks taking advantage of us Littles.” I literally spat the word “Littles” out of my mouth.
I stood, smugly waiting for him to deal out his worst, to be sent to the corner, maybe with my pants down, or something else equally embarrassing. Isn’t that what you did with young children acting out?
He’ll spank you, silly.
Oh. The thought brought with it a sense of impending dread, but a new pool of moisture in my panties as well. Despite the direness of our encounter, I really wanted to know what a real spanking felt like. Deciding to give him no choice, I went for broke.
“I’m a damn Middle who enjoys sex, wrestling, retro clothing, and video games. I don’t want someone telling me what to think or how I should act. I don’t need my bottom powdered, and I. Don’t. Wear. Diapers!”
Baldor moved with such speed for a large man that I was utterly shocked when I found myself scooped off my feet and facing the floor as he took a seat on the couch and held me in place against a hard pair of muscular thighs.
Huh? What just happened?
He did, you ninny.
Was this real? Was I finally going to get an actual spanking? I wondered if it would be as cathartic as it had been described. I wanted to surrender and tap into the surreal experience, memorizing every single thing from the smell of his cologne to the feel of the fabric of his pants and most importantly, the thoughts I would think while he delivered each stroke.
A hard swat landed on my jean-clad ass, instantly stilling me.
“If you know what’s good for you, Shelby, you’ll stay still and take your punishment like a good girl. You are obviously overwrought and in need of correction. Just so you know, I love to spoil the women I spend time with. But you are in need of a sound hiding.”
I held my breath in anticipation. Oh my gosh, this was really happening and the shock of it is what stilled me, not from a willingness or desire to be obedient, but from pure fascination. I was finally getting what I wanted in the most unexpected way. My Middle wanted to shout from the rooftops, but I kept her reined in.
Daddy Baldor brought his hand down several times over my jeans, and although it stung, and I could feel the heat blooming in my cheeks, it wasn’t painful. I let down my guard and relaxed. Clearly, this was to be a gentle spanking, and I could just enjoy it.
A few swats later, I saw the error of my ways. He was just allowing for an adjustment period, a warm-up. When he tugged down my jeans, I knew things were about to get serious. His hand came down like a paddle, and I screeched in response.
I’d never really been spanked before other than a few playful swats and the half-hearted occasional spanking by a partner. This was already way over the top compared to anything in my past. I kicked my legs in an effort to cool the searing heat that was building in my backside. I knew he was probably getting a view of my glistening core. It would be hard not to as it was right in his face. I fought the embarrassment I felt at him seeing how turned on I was and fought the uncomfortable heat building in my backside.
I was beginning to feel sorry for the words I’d lashed him with just a short bit ago but couldn’t find it in me to let go of it. But I felt it coming, a wave of self-doubt came barreling to the surface, and right along with it, remorse and repentance.
Baldor’s hand came down, exacting his price for my sharp tongue and poor attitude. The tears I’d been holding back since Peter had invaded my space burst like a dam, spilling to the floor, creating two tiny pools. But that didn't stop Baldor. He kept up the spanking. The sounds of flesh being punished and sobbing filled the room.
But as it continued, something different took root deep within me, clarity, freedom, a sense that all that was wrong in the world was righting itself.
“You will count the last ten, little girl, and when you are done, you will say thank you, Daddy, for my spanking. Say ‘yes, Sir,’ if you understand what I am saying.”
“Yes, Sir,” I answered in a trembling voice.
Baldor’s hand came down on my sit spot with more intensity than anything he’d delivered so far.
“One, Sir,” I cried out.
Again, his hand came down a little lower, catching the tops of my thighs and I squealed, “Two, Sir.”
Stokes, three and four landed on the most sensitive part of my thighs. I drummed my toes and ground my teeth in an effort to deal with the sting. But when the tenth stroke landed on the center of my thighs, I sobbed, “Ten, Sir,” continuing to cry as I lay limp over his large strong thighs. Baldor moved his hand in soothing circles over my battered bottom and soon the sting was gone and only the achy thrum was left.
“It is time for you to thank me, Shelby.”