I took as much time as I dared to in the shower, scared if I took much longer he would just punish me in there. Let me tell you, a wet-bottom spanking stings a lot! I quickly brushed my teeth and hair and put on a t-shirt and pajama shorts. 

When I opened the bathroom door, my heart sunk. He was sitting on the bed, and laying besides him was my thick wooden bathbrush, his belt, and that stupid long metal ruler.

“Please, Daddy. I’m sorry. I was going to tell you I just forgot about it!” I said in my most innocent voice. 

He wasn’t buying it. “Come here” he demanded. I took one step out of the bathroom when he held up his hand and pointed at the floor. I dropped to my knees, again crawling. This time much slower and more reluctantly than before. 

I had reached that spot between his legs again and kneeled before him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…” I had been about to say I didn’t mean to but we both knew it was a lie. I had meant to speed, and I had meant to hide the ticket in hopes I could pay it before he found out, and I had meant to not tell him. The excuse died on my lips and a soft “I’m sorry” took its place. 
His face once again lost its hard edge briefly. “I know you’re sorry baby, but sorry isn’t going to save you today”. And then he grabbed my arm and pulled me over his lap. A thorough hand warm-up following. He only used warm-ups when it was going to be a truly hard spanking and though the swats barely stung, I was already crying softly. He didn’t stop until he had turned my entire ass and my upper thighs a bright pink. 

“Stand up” he told me and I did. He tugged my pajama shorts and panties down and placed two pillows on the edge of the bed before bending me over them, my face in the sheets. I heard the whistle of his belt slicing through the air and it was a few seconds before I registered the pain.

“Owwww” I moaned, feet kicking up slightly.

Again and again he brought his belt down, lecturing on honesty and reinforcing that hiding the truth in the first place is still considered lying. I was squirming and gasping each time he brought that stingy leather down. When he finally laid the belt down I was so relieved, I thought it was over. My mistake. He simply moved the pillows and me to the middle of the bed and began spanking me with the ruler. This thing was three feet long and very bendy. It made for an extremely painful implement. 

By 20 swats, I was crying in earnest, not even hearing him tell me how important it is to tell Daddy right away when I break a rule. I was too busy squirming. I had managed to roll over once, but he had one of his hands pinned on my back now and kept landing spank after spank. By 40 swats, I was a howling mess, promising to be a good girl, to eat my vegetables, to never drive again…saying anything at all in hopes he would stop. 

  When he finally stopped at 50, and I only know it was 50 because he had told me, my ass was on fire and the sheets were soaked with tears. This had to be it, I told myself. He had never spanked me so hard or so long before.

His hand rubbed soothing circles on my back and he kept murmuring that it was going to be okay, it was almost over. At the word almost, I froze. And I started begging again.

“Please daddy no more pleasepleaseplease I’ll be good I swear, I’ll never speed again, never lie please” I cried. He rubbed my back for a few more minutes but that was all the break I got. I went over his knee again and he trapped my legs between his. I felt the cool smooth wood of the bathbrush rub softly over my throbbing ass and then I heard the crash as it came down. 

I screamed. I hated the bathbrush the most, out of anything he had ever used. It hurt so bad that even the threat of it made me drop my attitude most of the time, and normally he only gave me a couple smacks with it. This time, though, I lost count. It just felt as if he was raining fire down. I kicked and I screamed and when I tried to put my hand in the way, he used his free one to pin it behind my back. I was honestly surprised the police didn’t come, seeing as how I was screaming Bloody Murder, you think the neighbors would have sent help.

But no. There were no friendly neighbors or cops to save me, I was at the mercy of the man who had me over his knee. I don’t remember when I stopped fighting, but before I knew it I was just laying limply over his lap, a sobbing incoherent mess. I couldn’t even answer the questions he had been steadily asking me about “will I ever speed again” or “did this teach me about respecting my safety and other people’s safety” and eventually he stopped asking altogether when he realized I didn’t have the mental capacity to answer him.

“Last 5, little one” he said. I didn’t know if my ass was just numb or if he had softened up the last five, because I barely felt them. All I knew was that it hurt so much that I wasn’t sure I would even be able to sit down for a week. 

I heard the bathbrush fall to the floor and felt something cool spread across my bum. He was massaging lotion in so I didn’t welt too much, though after all that…I wasn’t sure lotion would be any help. When I had mostly gotten my crying under control he lifted me up, cuddling me for a while against his chest. He put me to bed soon after, and I was immediately grateful I had already gotten ready for bed, knowing I was in no state to do anything now. I laid on my tummy and was already drifting off to sleep when I heard him say: 
“That’s a beautiful coloring babygirl. We’ll put this teddy on the fridge in the morning”. I drifted off to sleep with a sore ass and a smile on my face, knowing Daddy loved me.