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Page 5
The hairbrush was exactly where Daddy had left it after the last time, sitting pale-bristle-side up on her dresser. Sticking her thumb in her mouth and sobbing loudly all around it, she carried it back downstairs. Sucking didn't bring her near enough comfort, and the minute Daddy saw it, he said, "Thumb, Meggy!"
It came out of her mouth with a pop, and she folded her arms over her stomach and hugged herself tightly instead. "No more spankin', Daddy. I'll never fib again."
He reached for her arm as soon as she drew near and pulled her the rest of the way to him. Taking the hairbrush from her tightly clenched fingers, he lay it on the table. But rather than drawing her immediately over his knee, he pulled her down to sit on his lap instead.
Without thinking, her thumb headed for her mouth again, but Daddy caught her wrist and firmly forced it down to her side. He lifted her binky, still attached to her pajama's collar by a ribbon, and though she tried to turn her head, popped it past her lips and deep into her mouth.
He rocked her gently, stroking her back as he said, "Every time you tell a lie, you hurt us. It damages the foundation of our relationship and erodes my trust in you. I want to be able to believe every word that comes from my baby girl's pretty little mouth, but I can't, can I? Because she just lied to me."
The binky fell from her mouth as she cried, "I'm sorry!"
"I know you are. But being sorry doesn't change what happened, or what has to happen now."
"But I'll won't do it anymore!"
He hugged her, sighing heavily. "I'm glad to hear that, baby. But just the same, I'm going to make sure you don't."
With a groan, she lay her head against his shoulder. "Are you gonna spank me hard? Is it gonna hurt?"
He half smiled as he stroked her hair. "It wouldn't do much good if it didn't."
Meg clung to him, burying her face in the side of his neck as she whimpered, "My tummy doesn't feel good."
"I'm not surprised. Knowing you're about to get a good spanking can be hard on a little girl's nerves."
"Maybe I'm gettin' sick." She couldn't help the hopeful note that crept into her voice. She pressed a hand to her own forehead. "Maybe it's the flu."
He sighed again, but when he spoke, his tone was absolutely neutral. "Do you really think you might be coming down with something?"
"Maybe." She rubbed her stomach. "I don't get sick very much, but my tummy really does feel upset, Daddy. An' I'm not lyin' this time."
"All right." He stood her up and, with the hairbrush in one hand and her hand in his other, he walked her out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bathroom. "If you are sick, we'll postpone your spanking until you're feeling better." He fixed her with a stern look. "But you are still going to get one and it's still going to hurt. Understand?"
Meg nodded and swiped at her eyes with the back of her wrist.
Laying the hairbrush on the sink, he opened the medicine cabinet and took down a glass thermometer in a two-tone plastic case. When he uncapped the lid, she opened her mouth expectantly.
He smiled. "Nope. Think again."
Her eyes became as wide as saucers when he took out a small jar of Vaseline. She put her hands behind her, crossing her legs with childish reluctance. "Not in my bottom."
Lowering the seat on the toilet, Daddy sat down. He beckoned. "Come on. Let's get those pajamas off."
Though facing her third spanking, Meg wasn't a slow learner. This time when he undressed her, she didn't interfere. She didn't even cover her breasts, though her hands did itch to, especially when he pulled her pajamas off her shoulders and his thumbs brushed the sides of her nipples. Bared to the air and his touch, the twin little, pink tips stiffened. She blushed, hoping he wouldn't notice, but he continued to undress her without comment.
"Step," he said, and she dutifully lifted each foot in turn until she was standing before him in only her pull-up pants. While he unpinned her binky from the collar, Meg touched her diaper. She hadn't yet made up her mind as to whether she liked the bulky feel of it between her legs or not. Truth be told, it was a little embarrassing to be in one. But at least he hadn't demanded that she use it, and Meg crossed her legs again, the plastic pants crinkling as she squeezed her thighs tightly together.
Untying the binky from its ribbon leash, he popped it into her mouth, making her protests little more than whimpers as he whisked her dry diaper down her legs and discarded it next to her pajamas.
He reached out to stroke her soft belly, his fingers caressing down to touch her bare little girl's mound. Softly, Daddy said, "I have got the prettiest baby girl in all the world."
Meg blushed furiously, both embarrassed and pleased by his praise, though she knew it wasn't true. She was too chubby, her hips too round, and her waist...well, suffice it to say, she would never be a runway model beauty. Funny how Daddy didn't seem to care.
"Absolutely beautiful," he said again, and she blushed even brighter. He held out his hand. "Come here, baby. Let Daddy help you feel better."
She whimpered only once and vigorously sucked at her binky as he drew her face down over his thighs. She clenched her legs again when he removed the lid on the Vaseline jar.
"Be a good girl," he said. "Relax your bottom."
She whimpered again, soft mewling sounds that were muffled by the binky. Seeming to know how hard this was, he rubbed the small of her back and murmured words of comfort until she complied.
"Such a good baby girl."
She closed her eyes, covering her face with both hands as he prized her bottom cheeks apart. Without preamble, the gel-slickened tip of the glass thermometer slipped past the tightly puckered rim of her anus. Meg stiffened at the invasion, reaching back to grab his hand and stop him from going any deeper. But he caught her wrist and pinned it to her side, and the thermometer continued on until it was seated to the hilt inside her.
"It's all right." He pressed a finger against the end to keep from her forcing it back out again. "Relax your bottom, Meggy. There's a good girl."
She began to sniffle. But he continued to hold it firmly in place, ignoring her tiny mews of protest until several minutes had passed and he could check her temperature.
"You don't have a fever. Does your tummy still not feel good?"
Meg nodded haltingly.
"Well, I think I can fix that."
He patted her hip, helping her back to her feet before washing the thermometer in the sink and putting it away. While she watched apprehensively, he withdrew a darkly red, rubber bag with a long white hose from beneath the sink. The hose ended in two currently deflated balloon like objects, one in front of the other, and twin round, black hand pumps.
Taking the binky from her mouth, Meg took a timid step backwards, not really sure if she wanted to know the answer to the question that perched trembling at her tongue. She hesitantly pointed. "What's that?"
"A double bardex nozzle." Setting the whole contraption in the counter, he clipped the hose closed and turned on the water. He adjusted the faucets, pausing every few seconds to test the water.
Subconsciously, her hands crept behind her to cover her bottom. Meg swallowed hard. "I-I don't wanna nenema, Daddy."
His reflection in the mirror looked at her. "Wants and needs are often two very different things. This happens to be just the thing for little girls with unsettled tummies."
Dipping the rubber bag under the faucet, he began to mix a solution of warm water and liquid soap directly into the opening. Only when the bag was bulging did he turn the faucets off and lift it from the sink by the metal hook that was looped through the top.
"No!" Meg protested. "I don't want one!"
Daddy paused in the process of hanging it from the towel rack long enough to fix her with a very stern glare. "Don't tell me eno,' Meg. I won't tolerate it."
She whimpered, her eyes fixed on the solution-heavy bag. And when he passed her to pull two towels from the closet, he took the binky from her hand and placed it firmly back into her mouth. Pressing a kiss to her for
ehead, he said, "Trust that I'll always do what's best for you. Do you want your Bear?"
When she nodded, Daddy lay the twin folded towels side-by-side on the floor near the hanging enema bag. "Kneel there. I'll go get him."
As he walked out of the bathroom, the urge to grab the bag and dump it out in the sink was almost overpowering. Maybe she could unclip the hose and at least empty some of that soap and water out. She glanced over her shoulder at the open doorway, listening as Daddy walked down the hall to the living room. Then she looked at the hairbrush.
She hugged her arms tightly to her chest and sucked furiously at the binky, trying not to cry. She'd get caught, and she knew it. Then she'd get spanked, and she'd still have to take the enema. She'd never had one before, but she had talked to other elittle' girls on the website whose mommies and daddies often dealt out enemas when they were naughty or not feeling well. Not a one of them ever had anything nice to say about the experience.
When Daddy returned, he handed her the well-loved teddy bear. "All right, I want you to kneel on the towels and put your head down."
Meg didn't move. She just looked at him, her expression one of absolute misery.
In his most authoritative tone, Daddy commanded, "Kneel."
Her shoulders drooped at the finality of the sound, and she hugged Bear tightly as she lowered herself to the towels.
"Head down. Prop your bottom way up."
Using Bear as a pillow, Meg lowered her head to the floor and stuck her bottom well up into the air.
"Legs apart," Daddy said, kneeling behind her.
Turning her face into Bear's soft belly, Meg sucked even harder at the binky as she shifted her knees apart. She consoled herself with knowing that at least she was not about to be spanked. Well, yet anyway. She began to whine, closing her eyes tightly against the fresh sting of tears.
Daddy patted her knees. "Wider, young lady."
She shifted, spreading her legs as far apart as the edges of the two towels.
"Now spread your cheeks for me."
Meg turned a bright, crimson red. He couldn't mean what he'd just said. She cleared her throat. "Daddy?"
"You heard me," he said. "Open your bottom right up for Daddy's extra special upset tummy medicine."
With her head cushioned on Bear, she slowly reached behind her to cup her own bottom cheeks, pulling them wide apart and stretching the dusky rim of her anus slightly agape. She closed her eyes, almost preferring a spanking to this humiliation.
"Lovely view."
While Meg quietly died from mortification, Daddy spread Vaseline on the end of the bardex nozzle and then all over her little bottom hole. Her mewed protests were muffled both by the binky and the teddy bear that absorbed her tears as he circled the rim, testing her resistance with gentle, repetitive probes.
"Relax your bottom, Meggy."
And she tried to. She really did. But as he bypassed the rim, pushing his finger into her rectum, she tensed all over again. Her muscles locked hot and tight around him as he thrust the digit in and out, smearing Vaseline where it would do the most good. She gasped and groaned, struggling to relax all over again. Once he removed his finger, it became easier. But then he put a steadying hand at the small of her back, and Meg cringed and whimpered as she anticipated exactly what she was about to feel next.
The thick round tip of the nozzle pressed against the tight, little brown bud, gently forcing its way inside while she clenched down to keep it out.
"Hold still," he warned.
She shook her head, her face hidden in Bear's stuffing-filled belly, soft, breathy gasps the only sounds she made as she was utterly, thoroughly invaded by the first of the two rubber balloons. Using one of the hand pumps, he compressed until Meg felt the invader expanding inside her, sealing her bottom from the inside. With the other, he blew up the second nozzle, which successfully blocked her from the outside as well and kept the nozzle from sinking any deeper within her.
"I am proud of you, Meggy." He rubbed her back gently. "I know you're trying so hard to be good for me right now. This isn't very comfortable, I know, but it will help your tummy feel better later on."
He released the clips, and the warm soapy water flowed into her bottom.
At first Meg gave no indication that she felt anything happening, but as the bag continued to deflate, draining into her, she shifted uneasily. There was a muffled groan as she pressed her face into Bear.
"I know." Daddy continued to stroke and rub her back. "Hold onto your teddy if you have to."
She let go of her bottom, groaning piteously as she grabbed onto Bear with one hand and her swelling abdomen with the other. But the flow continued and it seemed to take forever before the bag flattened again and he snapped the hose clamp shut.
"Now we'll let it settle inside you for a bit."
Feeling bloated and uncomfortable, Meg clung to Bear and was quietly miserable. She shifted, squirming more and more frequently, and the time crawled by far too slowly. On her next groan, the binky fell from her lips. "Oh, please take it out!"
He checked his watch. "Not yet."
She began to rock on her knees, whimpering and then groaning continuously.
"I know, baby. I know." He found her binky on the floor, rinsed it off in the sink and pushed it back into her mouth. "Two more minutes to go."
They were two of the longest, most uncomfortable minutes of her life. And she was never so grateful as when he finally disconnected the bardex from the rest of the contraption and allowed her to stand. Careful to keep the clamps in place, he walked with her to the toilet. As soon as she was seated, he deflated first the outer balloon and then the inner one. The bardex popped from her body with a liquidy gush.
Meg had never known a more profound relief. Or a more humbling one. She clutched her legs, unable to stop the rapid flow draining out of her or even to pause it. She kept her eyes glued to the floor, her face a deep scarlet as Daddy rinsed the bardex in the sink, then folded his arms across his chest and waited for her to finish.
When it was over, he helped to clean her up again. Bending her over to touch her toes, he washed her thoroughly with a warm, soapy washcloth.
"My tummy still doesn't feel good," she whined.
"It takes a while, but it will soon," Daddy said as he rinsed the cloth. Dropping it into the laundry hamper, he then sighed and picked up the hairbrush. "Let's finish this so we can eat." He smoothed her bangs back out of her eyes and kissed her forehead. "We want to have a good night, don't we?"
Meg nodded, but looked down at the hairbrush in his hand and began to whimper all over again.
"We can't have a good night if there's a lie wedged between us, now can we, Meg?"
Dutifully, she shook her head.
Lowering the lid on the toilet, Daddy sat down again and patted his lap. "Over my knee."
As she lowered herself into position over his lap, she couldn't help but feel how his broad thighs felt at once both strong and comforting. But the hairbrush....She whimpered, "Please, Daddy, not very hard."
"Give me your hands, baby," he said. "As tender as your poor bottom is already, you won't be able to hold still for this."
She put her hands behind her back, and he firmly took hold of her wrists.
It was just as bad as she remembered it being. From the first hearty smack, she let out a banshee wail of remorse, and by the sixth, there was no holding still. As her bottom bounced and wobbled under the firm application of that hairbrush, her body developed a wriggling, kicking, squirming life all its own. Twice her bare feet hit the wall, and Daddy paused the spanking just long enough to scissor her legs between his, locking her into place while he paddled her even harder. Until the entire surface of her bottom was a hot cheery red and Meg was sobbing incoherently. Only then did he lay the hairbrush down and hold her, though she winced and squirmed the instant her sore bottom made contact with his lap.
He rocked her until her tears began to slow, alternating between hugging her tightly
, caressing her braided hair and kissing her tear-streaked face. "It hurts me to have to spank you, baby. Can you be a good girl so I don't have to do that any more tonight, Meg? Can you do that for me?"
Her sobs withered to hiccups and sniffles, and she nodded her head and dashed the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.
"How does your tummy feel?"
Strangely enough, it did feel better and, between gaspy hiccups, she said, "It's o-o-okay."
"Are you hungry?" He kissed her forehead gently when she nodded. "Let's get ready for dinner. And we can cuddle on the couch before beddy-bye time."
He unfolded and spread out a towel on the floor, and when he held out his hand to her, she willingly lay down so that he could re-diaper her. Her poor little bottom was lobster red. He could already tell that the elastic bands were going to touch all the sorest of places. Shaking his head, Daddy took his time powdering and rubbing soothing Desitin not only on her swollen bottom cheeks, but over her shaven mound. He parted the fleshy folds, finding the sensitive nub of her clit with his fingertips.
She immediately turned her face away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he explored her.
"One more spanking tonight," he warned softly, "and you'll lose your playtime privileges."
Her eyes closed as he gently rolled her clit between his fingers. Her thighs tensed and her splayed legs began to tremble.
"That would be a shame, because Daddy has been looking forward to his baby girl's very first playtime for eight whole months." His thumb stroked over and over the tiny nub, feeling it swell beneath his touch. He cooed, "Such a pretty little baby. Such a naughty, spanked little bottom."
She reached above her head to grab Bear, lying forgotten on the floor where she had taken her enema. She pulled it over her face, moaning loudly into the stuffing-filled tummy.
He gave her one last stroke, then pulled a fresh diaper back up her legs and into proper place. Bear hiding her face, she didn't move to get up and Daddy bent over to kiss her bare stomach. When she still didn't move, he bent down again and this time blew a raspberry against her belly.