Chapter Two
Davis flicked on the lights to reveal the contents of the room. It reminded him of his own study at home. A large desk sat in front of a bank of windows, the mahogany wood gleaming, the surface bare except for a blotter, a pen and pencil set standing in a brass holder, an in-out basket where papers were neatly stacked awaiting attention, and a black telephone sitting at one corner. A chair of brown leather sat behind the desk, two overstuffed armchairs in front. A brightly colored rug covered most of the floor.
Banks of shelving stood against one wall holding not only books but also different objects that represented cultures from many different countries. Primitive hand-carved wooden animals sat among exquisite pottery pieces with designs meticulously painted across their surfaces. A tribal mask was propped up, appearing to gaze out at him, as if to watch what was about to happen. Terra cotta figurines, some with rotund bellies telling of their blessings for fertility, lined up as if to observe as well. Tapestries hung on the opposite wall to provide a colorful backdrop to the credenza beneath them. Frames bearing photos of the director, his wife, and many of the people they had met during their journeys throughout the world seeking treasures to be displayed to the people of the city were scattered across the top.
It was a warm room, its ambiance welcoming anyone who stepped across the threshold. Davis had been inside the office several times before. But tonight he wasn’t here as a friend, or as a member of the board of directors. No, he was here as the very disappointed partner of the beautiful young woman standing beside him, her feet shifting, her fingers twisting in the green satin of her gown.
“I… I can explain,” Noelle began, her voice soft. “It really wasn’t as bad as Mr. Manforth said…”
“No?” Davis said, moving to the desk, propping his hips against it and crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you saying that Charles lied?”
“No… I mean… um—”
“Dress up,” he said, cutting her off and watching as her eyes lifted to his, going wide at his instruction.
“What?”
“You heard me. Pull your dress up to your waist, Noelle. I’ve found that having to stand before me with your dress lifted tends to focus your mind.”
“He… here?” she asked, her eyes darting around the room.
“Right here,” Davis said, and when she didn’t instantly move to obey, he added, “And right now, young lady.”
He watched her cheeks pinken as she glanced around again even though he knew she was well aware they were alone and had most certainly heard him flipping the lock. “Noelle, I’ll not ask again. Pull your dress up to your waist.”
Releasing the fabric she’d been plucking at, she bent to take the hem of her gown into her hands. Slowly, she lifted it, gathering the yards of green satin, taking her time but Davis was in no hurry. He didn’t say a word as centimeter by centimeter the fabric lifted to first reveal small feet in shimmering silver heels, then trim ankles and sleek calves before hesitating a moment at her knees. A soft whimper was issued as thighs came into view and then another, longer pause taken when the wad of fabric was again held stationary. The silence seemed to be louder than the carols that had been playing in the museum as he continued to wait for her obedience. After several heartbeats, the satin continued its upward journey to expose what he knew he’d see. White panties hugged her trim body, the color contrasting sharply with the deep forest green of the satin now bunched at her waist.
Only then did he move, stepping forward until he was standing directly in front of his little miscreant. “The only thing that focuses your mind better than having your clothing at your waist is this,” he said, reaching out to hook his fingertips into the waistband of her panties and beginning to tug them down. He went as slowly as she had, taking his time, pulling the fabric down inch by inch, feeling a slight resistance as they slid over buttocks he knew were round and full, their plumpness in contrast to the slenderness of his girl. The air was filled with another soft whimper as the panties were lowered, her modesty revoked as they were turned wrong side out and dragged down to her knees.
“Spread your legs to hold your panties in place,” he ordered, waiting until her feet shuffled apart before releasing his hold. Her complexion was pale, and yet as he straightened and then stepped back, he watched the color rise from the vee of her neckline to suffuse her throat and then color her face a darker hue of rose. Returning to lean against the desk again, he said, “Now, Noelle, I want you to tell me exactly why you believe that you can explain your choices this afternoon.”
It didn’t take long for copper curls to sway a bit as she first shook her head and then hung it. “I-I guess maybe I wasn’t thinking.”
“Excuse me?”
“I mean, I wasn’t thinking… sir,” she said softly, lifting her head to meet his gaze.
“Sir?” he said, disapprovingly. “I don’t care that you are wearing an evening gown and high heels, little girl. You know better. When you are standing with your dress up and panties down, how exactly are you to address me?”
“As Dad—Daddy,” she said, her tone of voice changing to that of someone much younger than the twenty-three-year old presently standing before him.
“That’s right. And why is that?”
Her feet shifted but when her panties shifted downwards, they quickly moved apart again, even a bit further distance than before to assure she didn’t allow them to drop to the floor. “Because I-I’ve been nau—naughty and… and you’re going to… to punish me.”
Davis stood and removed his jacket, folding it before draping it over the back of one of the chairs. He was well aware of her eyes following his hand as he removed a cuff-link, tucking it into his pocket before beginning to roll his right sleeve up to his elbow. He could see her swallow and knew that if he was standing behind her, he’d see the flesh of her buttocks clenching. These little rituals never failed to draw his little one into the right mindset before she was punished. But he wasn’t quite done with his preparations. Repeating the gesture with his left sleeve, he spoke again.
“And how is Daddy going to punish his naughty girl?”
“You… you’re going to span… spank me, Daddy.”
“Just spank?” he asked, making sure she heard the disbelief in his tone. “I do believe you need to remember what happens to bad little girls who have been reminded more than once about putting themselves in any type of danger.”
Another swallow, a soft whimper, and eyes darting to his waist told him she was very much aware of what happened.
“What else does Daddy use to teach you that you are precious to him and are to keep yourself from harm?”
“You… you use your belt,” she said so softly her words were barely audible.
“That’s correct,” he said and had to bite back a grin when he saw her mouth open as she looked at the cummerbund around his waist, but he saw no need to clarify his intentions. She’d learn soon enough that he took his responsibilities as her daddy quite seriously indeed.
Moving the pen and pencil set to clear a space, he said, “Come here.”
Stepping aside, he watched as she took the small steps necessary to both obey him and keep her panties in place. When she reached him, he patted the surface of the desk. “Right over, now.”
Noelle leaned forward, placing her torso on the desk, pressing the side of her face against the blotter. Davis stepped up and lifted the satin higher onto her back, completely baring his target. “Grip the edge of the desk, and don’t let go. I don’t want to see those hands coming back to cover your bottom, understand?”
“Ye… yes, Daddy.” Fingers released the gown to curl around the opposite edge of the desk, the reach far enough to cause her to stretch forward due to her petite size. If she hadn’t been wearing high-heels, she’d be up on her tiptoes.
Nudging the tip of his black shoe against the silver straps of her heels, he directed her feet further apart until her panties were stretched tautly between her legs. Still not quite satisfied, Davis patted her backside. “Push this naughty bottom up and out, Noelle. You know how to present yourself properly for punishment.”
Her heart-shaped derriere lifted higher, the flesh pale against the deep merlot-colored surface of the wood.
“You’ve been told several times about climbing ladders, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In fact, you’ve fallen off more than one before, correct?”
“Ye… yes, sir.”
“And yet you still chose to ignore the rules and scamper up over ten feet high, nothing but a hard marble floor covered with broken shards of glass ornaments beneath you, to do something that was not necessary—”
“But the dinosaur… ow!”
Her cry came after he’d delivered a sharp swat to her right buttock. “Don’t interrupt me when I’m speaking,” he said, giving her left cheek its own swat. “Especially not with some lame excuse. You have a crew to help you, young lady. A crew of very willing young men who are more than capable of following instructions… unlike their boss, isn’t that correct?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“I might find that easier to believe if you’d told me yourself about what happened. Having to hear about it from Charles makes me wonder if you’d simply decided to keep the accident a secret.”
“I-I…” His fingers splaying against alabaster cheeks that already bore two vivid red handprints cut off her words.
“Yes?”
“You’re right. I-I knew you’d be upset and…”
“Yes?” he repeated, not about to make her confession any easier. Not when they’d been in this exact same position not two weeks ago when he’d caught her with one foot on a ladder’s rung, the other dangling out in mid-air as she adjusted a branch of another tree that was interfering with an ornament’s ability to spin.
“I knew you’d… you’d punish me,” she finally admitted. “I am sorry, Daddy. I just didn’t stop to think. I-I know I should have called for Peter or Eddie.”
“Yes, you should have.” He placed his left hand in the small of her back. “Hopefully after your spanking, you’ll remember to think the next time. Push your bottom out and keep it there. Do not clench; I want those cheeks loose and accepting of your punishment.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said. Though she instantly obeyed, her muscles relaxing, evidently she could not stop the flesh from quivering slightly. That was perfectly acceptable, it would be doing more than trembling by the time they were done.
The sound of his hand connecting with her bare flesh echoed in the office. After a half dozen, the sharp cracks were joined by her whimpers and then her high-pitched cries as his hand continued to raise and lower and her flesh began to pinken. Davis alternated his smacks from one cheek to another, watching the flesh jiggle with each swat. When her feet began to dance and her hips to wag, he gave her a crisp swat to the back of her thigh, her shriek testament to the pain.
“Settle down, little girl. I’m not nearly finished turning this naughty bottom crimson.”
“It hurts, Daddy!” she whimpered, her hips wagging from side to side.
“Of course it hurts, it’s a spanking, Noelle. Little girls who are naughty get their fannies spanked until they are stinging and burning.” That said, he resumed the punishment, the swats coming fast and furious until one echo blended into another, the sound of corporal discipline resonating throughout the space. Her ass, now a very dark shade of pink, was giving off a heat of its own, but he wasn’t done. Moving his palm to her thigh, he heard her begin to sob.
“No, please. Please, Daddy, not there!”
“Yes, Noelle, right here,” he said, smacking the white flesh. “And right here,” he added, giving her other thigh a swat. “Keep those feet down, young lady!” Swat after swat cracked against her thighs until the color matched that of her bottom. Though her feet did lift every few strokes, she immediately returned them to the carpet.
“I’m sorry… please, Daddy!” she wailed, her tears soaking into the paper beneath her cheek.
With a final swat to each tender thigh, Davis was done with the spanking but was not yet finished with her punishment. Giving her buttock a pat, he lifted his hand from her back. When she tried to rise, he pressed her down again.
“No, you have more coming, remember?”
“But… you… you don’t… don’t have a be… belt,” she stuttered, one hand releasing its hold on the desk to wipe tears off her face.
“I don’t need a belt,” Davis said, releasing her again only to add, “don’t move.” He circled the desk and took a seat in the leather chair. “Daddy will make sure his little girl receives all she is due, no matter that he doesn’t have his own implements on hand.”
Tear filled eyes watched him as he opened the right hand bottom drawer. He shook his head at the sight of the crystal decanter and rock glasses. “Nope, that is a treat for good little girls.” Closing the drawer, he heard her whisper, “Daddy?”
“Yes?” he asked, his fingers already on another drawer pull.
“You… you shouldn’t go through Mr. Manforth’s desk! That’s rude!”
“Ah, don’t you worry about it, sweetheart,” he said. “Did you forget that Charles is a dear family friend? He’s known me since I was a boy. And, he’s not only been a good friend, he’s been a wonderful mentor as well.” Giving the drawer a tug, he grinned. “Sets a very good example, in fact.”
Green eyes grew huge as he withdrew the item he’d have bet a year’s salary would be in the desk. Turning the paddle over in his hand, he nodded. “Yes, this will do quite nicely in lieu of my belt.” Bending forward, he gave her forehead a quick kiss, tucked an errant curl behind her ear and then patted the blotter. “Head down, and that naughty little ass back up.”
Her cheeks were as pink as her nates, her eyes watering with tears yet to be shed, but she instantly obeyed. Another trip around the desk and he laid the paddle against her flesh, pleased to see that it was presented properly.
“How many feet up the tree did Charles say that dinosaur was?”
“Te… ten, Daddy.”
“That’s right, ten. So, I believe ten strokes should do a good job reminding you that ladders are not your friend, don’t you?”
“But sometimes I need to—”
“Let’s make that ten to each cheek, shall we? Unless, of course, your thighs need ten as well to remind you that what you need to do is obey your daddy?”
“No… no, Daddy. Twe… twenty is… is a good number.”
“I thought you’d agree,” Davis said, rubbing the smooth wood of the paddle across its target. “Count these and let each one remind you that every single time you decide to be naughty, you will find yourself presenting your little bottom to me for punishment. Ready?”
Her whimper preceded her compliance as she softly whispered, “Yes, Daddy.”