Busted while talking to the office, Missy gets a heavy-handed reminder on her bare bottom of how little she is and who makes the decisions. The man of the house is unswayed by tears, but does understand Missy’s confusion. If he offers to let her nap on his big bed and keeps her company, it’s only to make Missy feel better. Or to make her feel really, really good.
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The traitorous technology rang
in his hand. Like a flash I turned to snatch it, and almost succeeded. He
fended me off with an arm longer than my leg, but I’d managed to activate the
phone enough to let the call through. I scrabbled to steal my phone back.
“Melissa?” came through in Preston’s voice.
“I have to get that!” I hissed
and struggled.
“Melissa Rothwell’s phone,
Dirk speaking.” Daddy smoothly swept the phone to his ear and answered in urbane
tones. “How may I help you?” With one
long arm and a big hand on my head, he held me away from him while I fought to
get close enough to retrieve my phone. He had it far enough from his ear I
could hear my caller.
“Uh, this is Preston, Ms. Rothwell’s
assistant. I was just calling back with some numbers she wanted.”
“Ms. Rothwell is unable to
come to the phone right now.” Yeah, because he was holding me at arm’s length,
damn it.
I shoved, and managed to
unsettle Dirk enough to push him back into the big Pullman chair where not so
long ago I’d sat in his lap. He toppled backward, one leg up—and pulled me down
over his other thigh. His leg came down over my back like a vise. I flailed
arms and legs, hissing “Give me that phone!”
“She’s on vacation, you know.”
“Yes, but she called,
and…” Not much can fluster Preston, but
Dirk did. He flustered me too, by lifting my little striped skirt to expose the
ruffled diaper cover. He pulled that
down around my knees. I struggled harder, hampered by the panty.
“Is this information likely to
affect any decisions she needs to make?”
Daddy opened the tab on one side of my diaper. I kicked wildly,
connecting with nothing. His leg over my back weighed a metric crapton. I thrashed
about and couldn’t budge him an inch.
“N…no. she just asked.”
Daddy opened the other tab. I
was imprisoned and couldn’t do a thing besides kick and wiggle. “Then please
email it to the usual address, and Ms. Rothwell will discuss it with you when she
returns. Thank you for your patience.”
Dirk didn’t miss one single businesslike beat and dismissed Preston with
a click.
“Now, young lady.” Daddy
lifted the back of my diaper away from my bottom. I’d tumbled us into the worst
possible situation—if I’d begged for a spanking I couldn’t have been more
perfectly positioned. “You seem to be confused. You are little Missy, you do as
your Daddy tells you, and you are not to touch phones, computers, or other
grownup items. Do you understand?”
“Yes, but…” I protested.
“No buts. I left you down for
a nap and find you chatting in the closet.”
He rested his huge hand on my bare ass. “Using a phone you know not to
touch.”
I squirmed. That hand was a
formidable instrument, and it lay against my bottom like a promise. Daddy
always kept his promises. “I had to know…”
“You did not. You wanted to
know, and you were prying into grownup affairs. They can take care of business
without you for two weeks.” He rubbed my bottom, as if preparing me for what I
knew would come.
That’s what I was afraid
of—that they could manage without me. However, I also knew they wouldn’t manage
as well, and they’d be glad to have me back, and being unreachable was part of
the mystique. I’d nearly screwed that up, and Daddy had to rescue me from my
own folly.
He wouldn’t rescue me from the
punishment I’d earned, though. No matter how I flailed. I was over his knee
already, and well-pinned, and his hand was on my ass. The only question was—how
hard would he punish me?
***
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