Gwen McKenna and Devlin O’Neill
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Views: 33284 Created: 2007.09.23 Updated: 2007.09.23

A Doll's Story

Part 1

I fidgeted while Devlin pulled my panties down. He laid me on my bed, on my tummy, then yanked my skirt to my waist before he arranged my Olga Scoops neatly at the backs of my knees. I dug my bare toes into the duvet. I guess I squirmed too much, ’cause he reprimanded me and told me to lie still. He gets that awful ‘professor’ tone in his voice when he does that, and I just want to run away. Yeah, right! As if!

My bottom really stung from the spanking he gave me a minute before. I knew I was already in big trouble but I couldn't help but whine when he told me to lift my hips. He ignored my protests and snaked a strong arm around my waist to lift me up so he could wedge a folded pillow underneath me. I sobbed ’cause I could feel how high my bare bottom was raised and the view it showed him. I sobbed again when I felt his hand at my knees, nudging them as far apart as my panties would allow.

His big hand patted my sore, red bottom. "Hush, Gwen. And get off those elbows. You know better than that. Put your chest down, flat on the bed, your head too. That's my girl. Offer me your naughty bottom, and I want you to stay just like that. I'll be right back.”

Of course he didn't come ‘right back.’ He made me lie there and wait for him, so I could contemplate the night ahead of me, and the day that had just passed; the day that got me into this horrible predicament!

The day itself couldn't have been any lovelier. It was warm autumn in New England, with the leaves just past peak. Devlin and I had gone to an antique fair at the Littlefield town common. It should have been the perfect place to spend a romantic, lazy afternoon together, holding hands and leisurely strolling along the booths, browsing dusty old goods.

We hadn’t been there long when Devlin struck up a conversation with a man who sold antique watches. He’d always wanted an old timepiece to display on his desk. The guy was good, and kept Devlin's interest with his sales pitch. I pulled on his arm several times, but he ignored me. I was bored with watches, wasn’t even interested, and we still had miles of booths yet to see. But the man just would not shut up! I yanked again, a little harder, but Devlin just patted my hand and carried on talking. I sighed as loud as I could, then just pouted and peered toward the booths we hadn't explored yet.

About fifty feet way, a wooden sign read “Dolls.” My weakness! I love old dolls! I yanked on Devlin's arm again, harder than I intended. Both Devlin and the salesman looked at me in surprise. Devlin's eyebrow shot up, which told me we'd be having a 'talk' later about my rudeness.

"Devlin, I'm sorry. But I … I have to go check something out, OK? I'm just going further down the row.”

His voice sounded smooth, like Bailey’s Irish Cream. "Give me another minute and I'll come with you, sweetheart.”

But I didn't want to wait, and I pulled against his hand like an impatient child.

"No, that's OK, you guys finish up. Just meet me at the doll booth when you're done, OK?" He did that eyebrow thing again. "Pleeease?"

He nodded, and, knowing that he wouldn't be able to complete his discussion in peace otherwise, he let go of my hand, assuring me he'd catch up in a few moments. At the doll booth, the dealer acknowledged me and I smiled, my eyes roaming over the merchandise. Most of the dolls weren't true antiques but they were still beautiful. I browsed until I was satisfied there were no special finds. As I turned to go back to Devlin, something caught my eye. There was a doll tucked under the back table, and from what I could see of her pale pretty face, she appeared to be a 19th century Jumeau doll. She had a mop of red curly hair. Her pale, blue, glass eyes stared at me and I knew I was in love.

I pointed to her. "Has that one been sold yet?"

The vendor said that the doll had been on hold since early morning, but no one had returned to pay for her. The woman brought her to me. I couldn't get my hands on her fast enough. And I was right! She was a bisque Jumeau, probably made in the early 1880's. She was dressed in a faded and worn but gorgeous cream silk dress with tiny daisies embroidered on the bodice and a lace- trimmed cloak to match. I turned her over and over as I admired every little age flaw. Oh, she was beautiful! I was so in love.

"How much are you asking for her?"

"Three fifty."

Nuts! I knew $350 was a lot of money, I truly did. I tried to negotiate, but the woman wouldn't budge. Did I care? Naaaah. I knew that a Jumeau was worth that! I took a nervous peek at Devlin, still at the watch booth. Of course I knew he would kill me if he found out how much money I was going to spend on this doll, but I simply had to have her. It was just one of those things in life that a girl must have, so before I could talk myself out of it I handed over my credit card and asked the woman to please hurry. She nodded, winked, and in less than a minute, the doll was mine, paid for, wrapped and bagged. I thanked her, tucked the package under my arm, turned and … immediately bumped into Devlin, who was standing behind me.

"Whoa! Oh, hi! You, um … snuck up on me. So, ummm, did you buy anything from the watch man?"

"No, sweetness, everything was ridiculously overpriced.”

Sometimes I think Devlin has antennas.

"Oh, gee, that's too bad. I'm sure you'll find a watch eventually.”

"Yes, I'm certain I will, but I'm not going to rush into anything. You know I'm not one to make rash decisions with pricey baubles.”

I definitely did not like the way this conversation was going. Time to change the subject.

"Devlin, are you hungry for lunch yet?"

He squinted his eyes and turned his head just an inch. "Ah, no, thank you. Eleven o’clock is a little early for me." He nodded at the package that was half-hidden behind my back. "What did you buy?"

Ugh.

"Huh?" I pretended not to hear him as I strode away from the doll booth. "Oh, look! Hot apple cider! Want some?"

"Sure smells good. What did you buy?"

I could feel his eyes on the back of my head. "Oh, the cutest little doll you ever saw. She’s old, though. Needs to be cleaned up. It’ll be a lot of work, but I know she'll be so pretty."

"You know, sweetheart, you don't get the best bargains at places like this. Fact is, you usually pay through the nose. If you wanted a doll, you should have told me. The wise thing would have been to check out the dolls on Ebay."

Yes, that would have been the wise thing to do, except Ebay didn't have this doll!

He cleared his throat and I trembled. "Gwen, you do remember the promise you made about sticking to your budget, don't you?"

Oh, no, please. Not the promise! I bit my lip and clutched my doll tighter, knowing I was doomed.

Devlin shook his head. “You've already forgotten last month's discussion?"

Discussion? That was not a discussion. That was him, lecturing me on the evils of high-interest credit cards while I laid across his knees, wriggling and kicking to get loose while he spanked my bottom red!

"No, Devlin, I remember."

"And you recall that you promised you'd curb your spending on unnecessary luxuries until you paid that card down?”

That card? Wow. I was glad he only thought there was only one card!

"Uh huh! And I’ve tried really, really hard to…."

"So please correct me if I'm wrong, but your sudden reticence leads me to believe that the purchase you're clinging to so desperately would most likely not be considered an inexpensive luxury, would it, Gwen?"

I looked at him and opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I didn't want to lie to him. Well, yes, actually I did want to lie, but I couldn't think up a believable fib fast enough. I couldn’t even stammer because he was looking straight at me. I got that awful tight feeling in my belly, and I knew I was caught.

Devlin knew it too. He took me firmly by my elbow and escorted me to a quiet spot next to an old oak tree, away from the commotion of the booths. My heart was pounding in my throat as he bent down towards my flushed face and asked quietly in his deep, Devlin voice, "How much did you pay for that doll, young lady?"

My first inclination was to deny that I was even holding a doll! At that moment I wanted nothing to do with her. I wanted to get rid of the evidence, and if Devlin had been looking the other way I would have been tempted to ditch her in the big, green trash barrel!

"Pay?" I was about half a breath from desperation.

"Yes, Gwen. How much did you pay for the doll? What was the cost?"

Oh, I really didn't want to tell him that! My bottom twitched when I remembered how badly he had me squirming over his knee last month. By the time he allowed me to stand up (but before he banished me to the corner so he could admire my scarlet tushy for half an hour), Devlin had made it very clear what I could expect the next time I was irresponsible with my credit card. It was something I had understood perfectly and remembered … until today.

"I'm waiting, miss.”

I tried to look calm while my head swirled and my eyes looked up, down, left, right, anywhere but at him, because I knew his eyebrow would be arched and seeing that would only make my belly tighten more … but then … a miracle! An answer came to me while I studied the bark on the oak tree. With any luck, it could just possibly get me out of this mess.

I looked at the package and said, "I paid $35 for her, Devlin. I thought that was a reasonable price."

Strong fingers lifted my chin, making me look into his narrowed, skeptical eyes.

"You paid $35 for that doll, sweetheart?"

"Uh huh."

"Really?" He couldn't have made it sound more doubtful if he tried.

"Uh huh."

While it wasn't hard for Devlin to sense when I wasn't being totally up-front about things, he's a gentleman and he'd never call a lady a fibber. He studied my face and gave me one last chance.

"You're positive about that, Gwen?"

Arrgg! How many times was he going to make me say it? "Yes, I'm sure. Thirty five American dollars."

"Then it sounds to me like you found yourself a bargain today. Good for you, sweetness. I know she'll look lovely once you've fixed her up. She'll make a nice addition to your collection, I'm sure."

It took all of two seconds for guilt to kick in, because he was being nice to me now and I didn't deserve it. I didn't want to hold his hand, but he took mine and we continued to wander the fair. My mind was a million miles away. I was too aware of the doll under my arm; couldn't stop thinking about her and how I had lied to Devlin. I was mad at the doll, I was annoyed at Devlin, and I felt very sorry for myself that I couldn't even enjoy this treasure I had found, or rather this treasure that had cost me $350! Ooooh, that sounded like an awful lot of money all of a sudden! Devlin put his arm around me and was just beginning to give me a hug that I also didn't deserve when we were interrupted by a female voice, calling to me.

"Excuse me, miss? Miss?"

I turned and my stomach lurched when I saw the woman from the doll booth heading towards us, waving a piece of paper in the air.

"You were in such a hurry you forgot your receipt! I'm so glad I spotted you!"

Devlin turned, glanced at me, and then smiled at her. I moaned because the woman’s eyes glistened when she saw Devlin’s smile. It has that effect, especially on older women. OK, me too, but old ladies kind of melt when he looks at them a certain way, like he’s their long-lost son or something, and she just shoved the receipt into his hand without another look at me. I tried to snatch it from him, but he read it while he held it over his head, out of my reach. And then …well things didn't go so well after that. He thanked the woman and she left, but she kind of sighed as she looked over her shoulder. I quivered when he gave me the Visa bill.

“I don’t understand. 'There must be a mistake! I thought the price tag said thirty-five, not three fifty! Where'd that extra zero come from?”

“You probably should run after her then, don’t you think?”

“No! I mean … well, I … see … um….”

A hot blush covered my cheeks. My desperate ploy only made Devlin's eyebrow go up higher than I've ever seen it before.

He lowered his head and sternly whispered, "Do you know what happens to little girls who fib? Especially to me?"

I could only shake my head.

"Well, then, sweetheart, I believe it's time you learned.”

Of course I did know what happened to little girls who fibbed to Devlin, or at least I could guess. I’d never done it before. Well, I hadn’t been caught, anyway, until then. My guess turned out to be pretty accurate, ‘cause my fanny was really sore already, and I didn’t dare rub because I didn’t know where he’d gone and I couldn’t see the bedroom door without turning my head, and if he was standing outside watching me, he’d spank me again for moving when he told me not to. And Heaven help me if I rubbed my bottom after a spanking before he said I could! I really, really wanted to be a good girl for him and show him how sorry I was that I spent all that money on the doll, especially after we had that long discussion just the month before. He must have spanked me for half an hour that time, before he sent me to the corner. I hate standing in the corner. It’s so embarrassing to have my red bottom on display, and having Devlin sitting behind me somewhere. And I never know if he’s reading, or watching television, or admiring his handiwork. I hate standing in the corner.

When we got home from the fair, I was over his lap for almost an hour while he ‘reminded’ me of that discussion. I’m always amazed how he can scold me for so long and never say the same thing twice. At least I don’t think he does. Of course, I’m kind of distracted ’cause his hard hand is smacking my bottom about every six seconds. That’s part of what makes his spankings so awful! He leaves plenty of time for the sting to get all the way into my cheeks before he gives me the next swat, so by the time he’s finally done, my fanny feels absolutely on fire! But there’s no rubbing allowed, not unless Devlin does it himself.

He didn’t say, but I had to assume that now he was going to ‘talk’ to me about the fib. Where’d he go, anyway? What’s he doing, for crying out loud? Well, I knew one thing he was doing, and that was giving me time to think about what he’d do next, which scared me half to death. I mean, there I was with my heinie in the air, so vulnerable, so wide open, and the cool bedroom air could get all inside, especially down low, where my lips were kind of damp. OK, that’s another fib. They were wet! And the more my bottom cooled, the wetter they got.

Where was he? Not that I wanted him to come back and look inside my behind and then spank me for fibbing, but my tummy was getting pretty nervous, and all those nasty butterflies were flapping around! Maybe he wouldn’t spank me again, after all. Maybe he just wanted me to get really scared and embarrassed, so I wouldn’t fib to him anymore. Hah! Maybe the moon is made of melted Monterey Jack!

“Gwendolyn!”

I jerked and my tummy did flip-flops. “What? Um. Sir?”

“Didn’t I tell you to stay the way I put you?”

“I did!”

“Then why is the pillow scrunched halfway up your tummy?”

I looked down. “Oh, God,” I moaned.

The pillow had somehow worked its way almost to my breasts.

“You were rubbing your naughty parts against it, weren’t you?” he said, and lifted me by the waist so he could put it back where he left it.

“No! I … I don’t know how that happened.”

“Then why is there a wet spot on the pillow case, Gwen?”

A tear dripped from my eye. “But, Devlin! You were gone so long, I just … I guess I just wiggled a little bit. I didn’t really move, honest!”

“We will discuss the issue of your honesty in a moment. There. Now spread your legs again, the way I had them before.”

I blushed, but spread my legs apart for him. “OK. See? I’m being good. We don’t have to discuss anything right now, do we? You already spanked me real hard and I’m awful sore. Devlin? What are you going to do?”

“Teach you not to fib to me, sweetheart.”

“But … but I already know that, honest! I mean … I do know that! You don’t have to punish me any more. I already learned my lesson!”

“Obviously you haven’t or you would have been too overcome with shame to masturbate against the pillow.”

“Devlin! I didn’t! How can you say that to me?”

I felt the sting an instant before I heard the crack of his hand on my bottom. My hand jerked back to rub before I could stop it.

“Gwendolyn!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but that hurt!”

He pushed my hand away and sat on the edge of the bed. I folded my arms above my head and stared at the duvet. My cheeks still quivered, both from the spank and from trying not to clench. I could feel his eyes as he inspected the insides of my cleft. Why does he do that? Doesn’t he know how embarrassing that is? I sighed and curled my toes. Of course he knows. What was I thinking?

“You’re just dripping, Gwen.”

“Am not!”

“And you’re arguing!”

“Ow, ow, ouch!”

I couldn’t help it! He smacked my sore tushy about a dozen times, and I just had to clamp my legs together, ’cause my bottom was wide open and his hand kept landing inside, and it really stung!

“Gwendolyn! Spread your thighs and get your bottom open.”

“Devlin, nooo! Please? Just … just spank my fanny, OK? Not inside, pleeease?”

He tapped the back of my knee and I whined, but I spread my legs like he told me to.

“That’s better, little girl.”

His voice was so calm, so deep, so soft. I’m always afraid I’ll make him mad, but it doesn’t seem like I ever do. And I love it when he calls me his little girl, ’cause I know he’d never hurt his little girl, not really. The stinging on the sensitive skin inside my bottom kind of glowed and I took a deep breath when I felt his hand stroke me there, and then when his fingers delved deeper, it was like a bunch of warm firecrackers went off way deep in my tummy.

“Ohhh, Devlin! Mmm, yesss.”

“Sweetheart?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you remember when we talked about what happens to extra-naughty girls? Girls that don’t mind me, or defy me or fib to me?”

The soft, liquid voice turned to frozen hydrogen when he said ‘fib,’ and the warm glow that his fingers put in my tummy turned to a block of ice. He was referring to a late night conversation we had had weeks ago.

“But, Devlin,” I whispered. “You … we were just talking! You didn’t mean that, did you? You … you had your finger on my … um … button, and … and you just wanted me to imagine that, so I could get off. Didn’t you? You wouldn’t really do that to me, would you?”

“Do what, sweetness?”

“You know! S-spank me, um … in there!”

“But you remember what I said, don’t you? When I told you what would happen if you enrolled in my college, and you misbehaved? Remember?”

“Yes! But it … it was just a story! We … you were just playing!”

His hand rubbed my sore behind, and his thumb slipped between the cheeks and caressed for just a second. I gasped and bit my lip.

“But you told me what you would do,” he said in that liquid voice. “If I made you bend over the desk in the schoolroom, lifted your little schoolgirl skirt and took down your little, white, schoolgirl panties. Do you remember what you said?”

“Noooo! Ow! Devlin! OK! Yesss! I remember!”

He didn’t swat me very hard, but I didn’t expect it, so I kicked the mattress kind of hard.

“Gwen! Be still! Now. Tell me what you said.”

“No,” I whimpered.

I squealed ’cause I felt his arm rise up.

“Now, Gwendolyn.” The soft, liquid voice had a really scary edge to it.

“OK! I … when we were playing that, um, schoolgirl fantasy, I said something about, um, where very extra-naughty girls get spanked … inside their bottom cheeks.” I took a deep breath. “Then … then I said, um, I said, ‘Oooh, I AM pushing it out, Professor! I am offering! Oh, Devlin, don't spread my bottom like that! Pleease, it's so embarrassing to know you're looking back there! Dooon’t!’ Or … or something like that.”

And I did push it out then, ’cause I remembered exactly what I said that night. I could just see that classroom he writes about in all those naughty stories he puts on his website, and me dressed like a schoolgirl, bent over the desk while all the other girls watch me get punished. It didn’t matter that I’m fifteen years older than them. When Devlin’s got his finger on my trigger, I could be Madonna on-stage at the Hollywood Bowl! Except it isn’t fake when I explode like a ton of dynamite!

Then he chuckled. I swear! The man actually laughed! I jerked my head around and glared at him, which was probably a mistake. Damn! I wish I’d ever learn! At least I didn’t say anything, which I was going to until I saw his eyebrow, the left one, raise up. God, I hate it when he does that! At least he didn’t scowl, which was a good sign, but he did squeeze my sore bottom pretty hard, and that made me whimper real loud.

“That was very good, sweetness. So you know what you have to do now.”

“No, Devlin! I don’t want to! It was just a fantasy! You can’t expect me to really … oweee! Ouch! Ow! OK! I will! Uh! Devliiiin! I’m doing it, OK? See? I … my bottom’s all spread out, and … and I’m sticking it up, see? But please not too hard, OK? Don’t spank me real hard inside my fanny, pleease?”

“Much better, sweetheart,” he said, and leaned over.

I just about had a heart attack because he kissed me, right between the cheeks! About an inch from you-know-where! That big ice block in my tummy just melted.

“Ooooh, Devlin! That feels so … mmmm!”

Then he rubbed my tushy with both hands and I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. But he stopped, dammit! And then he said something I did not want to hear.

“How many times did you fib to me today, Gwendolyn?”

Oh, Gaaahd! Not ‘sweetheart.’ Not even ‘Gwen.’ Gwendolyn. My in-trouble name. The ice block came back, even bigger this time.

“I … I’m sorry I fibbed, Devlin. Sir.”

“That’s not an answer, young lady. How many times?”

I tried to ignore the awful, icy butterflies fluttering in my belly.

“I … um … just once, sir.”

“Oh? Didn’t I ask you twice how much you paid for the doll?”

“I … I don’t remember. Owich! Oooh! Yes!”

He swatted my right cheek, pretty hard, but at least his fingers didn’t land inside my fanny. He rubbed the sting away while I nodded.

“And when the lady from the stall came with the receipt, didn’t you try to fib to me again?”

Oh, geeeze!

“Y-yes, sir,” I whispered.

“Better. And how many times did you put me off before you even told the first fib?”

“I … um … twice. Sir.”

“At least that. Now, that’s two prevarications and three outright fibs. How many fibs can a girl tell me before I consider her extra-naughty, Gwendolyn?”

I couldn’t believe it! He was gonna make me tell him! I cried really hard ’cause I really, really didn’t want to say I’d been extra-naughty! It was too awful to admit! His hand felt so good on my hot fanny when he rubbed it while I sobbed, and I sobbed for a long time. Just not long enough or hard enough, I guess.

“Gwendolyn? I asked you a question.”

“I … I know!”

“I expect an answer. Now!”

“Geeze, Devlin! Um. Five?”

He squeezed my sore tushy real hard and I whimpered.

“Not even close. Try again.”

“Oh, God! Um. Three?”

“One is the correct answer, young lady!” He smacked my fanny pretty hard and I squealed. “So that makes you what kind of little girl? Hmm?”

“Oh, Gaaahd! A … a v-very extra-naughty l-little girl.”

“And what happens to very extra-naughty little girls, Gwen?”

His hand was still on my bottom, but not in between, which was OK, ’cause my bottom hole was just throbbing, and I really wished he couldn’t see it. But I took a deep breath and shut my eyes real tight.

“They … they get spanked?”

He sighed. “Where, Gwendolyn?”

“In … inside their bottom cheeks?” I whispered.

“What? I couldn’t hear you.”

Dammit, of course he could hear me! It was so quiet in the bedroom I could hear the Canada geese honking at the pond a mile away, for crying out loud!

I huffed, kind of loud. “Inside their bottom cheeks, OK?”

He grunted and smacked my heinie. “You are already in enough trouble, young lady, so keep a civil tongue in your head.”

“But, Devliiin! This is so awful!”

“Yes, and I hope it’s awful enough that you remember it the next time you even think about telling me a fib.”

“But I will! You don’t have to do this! I’ll be good! I’ll never fib to you again, I swear!”

“Push down with your tummy, so your bottom is raised up more.”

“Devlin, pleeease?”

“Hush and do what I said.”

Oh, geeeze! It was horrible, lying there with my panties around my knees, my bottom way up in the air, all spread out, and my boobs mashed into the duvet. My nipples were hard as rock, and they just burned! I tried to concentrate on them, so I wouldn’t think about how wide open my fanny was, but then he started spanking me deep in between my cheeks, not too hard at first, but it wasn’t long before I forgot all about my nipples!

“Owee! Devlin! That stings!”

“It’s going to sting a lot more in few minutes. Stay still.”

“Nooo! It’s nasty!”

“So is fibbing, young lady.”

“But I’m sorreeee! Ow! Oooh! Not right there! Don’t spank me there!”

“Are you going to fib to me ever again?”

“Neeeoooh! Owitch! I … I promise!”

“You promised me that you wouldn’t spend money on frivolousness, but you did.”

“Nooo owww! Eeek! Devliiin!”

“Push your bottom up more, girl. I’ve hardly begun.”

“Nahahahah noooo!”

It was just his fingertips at first, smacking the soft skin on the insides of my bottom crack, and that was more humiliating than painful. I could feel my face burning with shame. He kept the light swats up for five minutes, but then he started to swat pretty hard, with all of his big, hard fingers. That really stung, and I kind of lost it. I’m pretty sure he scolded me about something or other for the next ten minutes, and I think I tried to say whatever he wanted to hear, but I really can’t be sure. All I could think about was how much the inside of my bottom burned, and how he was leaning over, pushing down on the small of my back, looking right inside my most private spot, while he spanked, and spanked, and spanked!

After forty or fifty swats on one side, he’d twist around and lie across my legs so he could spank the inside of the other cheek! Then he’d go back and start on the other side again. All I could do was screech and pound on the bed with my fists, ’cause he held me down. Then I tried to put my legs together. Why can’t I learn?

“Gwendolyn! Extra-naughty girls do not get to close their bottoms!”

I have no idea what I said, and I’m pretty sure it was just gibberish by that time, but the next thing I knew, my panties were gone and my knees were spread out about a mile. That’s when he knelt behind me and slapped straight down into the crevice! It made kind of a hollow ‘pop’ every time he smacked me. My little bum hole quivered with the shock of the sting. It felt like that went on for hours, but it was probably only a minute or two. Then all of a sudden I wasn’t lying on my tummy over the pillow anymore.

“Shhh. It’s all right, sweetness. I’ve got you.”

And he did, too. He sat on the edge of the bed with me cradled in his arms so my achy, stingy, humiliated little tushy was pressed down hard into his lap. That was even better than Devlin rubbing my bottom, when I’d sit on his lap and I’d grind my hot bottom against Devlin’s lap to take away the sting. I clung to his neck and just sobbed while I told him how sorry I was, and I’d never do it again, and I would be like the best little girl in the world, and I loved him, and I can’t remember what else. Finally I looked up at his smile, and realized none of what I’d just said had come out in anything like comprehensible English, but his smile made me feel better.

“I … I … I love you, Devlin.”

“That’s all I needed to hear, sweetheart. You’re still my girl, you know, even when you’re naughty.”

“Uh huh, I know.” I loved being cuddled in his arms right after a spanking. There was no place better, and that’s why his next words hit me like ice water.

“OK, then, be my good girl and stand up for me.”

Oh, I didn’t want to get up yet! I was so comfy and cozy, cuddled on his lap! He didn’t let me hesitate for long, just stood up and I had no choice but to stand on my feet. I gave him the biggest, angriest pout I could muster.

He chuckled and rubbed my bottom with his big warm hand. “Keep giving me that attitude, sweetheart, and you’ll find yourself bottom up in that bathroom getting a soap suds enema.”

I definitely didn’t want that, no way! I hugged him tightly around his waist in a panic.

“No, Devlin, I’m sorry! See, look, no pout now … just a smile for you, OK?”

I gave him a nervous fake grin, then hid my face in his shirt, praying I hadn’t blown my redemption.

He hugged me in return and rubbed the back of my head in slow circular motions. “That’s better. That’s my girl. I don’t want to have to give you a nasty enema, but you know I won’t hesitate to put the nozzle up your fanny. That’s one naughty-girl punishment that never fails to get your attention, isn’t it, sweetheart? So I suggest you be on your best behavior this evening while we finish up, otherwise a soapy enema will be added to the agenda. Is that clear, young lady?”

“Yes, sir, uh, uh, I understand.” My voice was muffled because I still had my face buried in his shirt. I was so disappointed. Here I was thinking I was free and clear after that mortifying spanking and now I had to worry about an enema too! This was so not fair!

“That’s my girl. Here, let me see your pretty face.”

Devlin took my jaws between his warm palms and studied my face. He brushed the hair off my forehead and gently pressed his fingers against my temple. I closed my eyes, enjoying his soft touch.

“Hmmm. You feel warm, sweetness. Go get me the thermometer and the Vaseline, please.”

My eyes shot open. ”Devlin, no! I’m not warm!”

He took my chin in his fingers and lifted. “Not one more word out of that pretty mouth. Go into the bathroom and bring me the rectal thermometer and the Vaseline. One more syllable, Gwen, and I promise you a fanny full of soapsuds within five minutes. Is that clear?”

Now I was flushed. I nodded my head really hard.

“Then please do as I said, Gwen.”

I turned and walked to the bathroom. It felt like miles. I abhorred having Devlin take my temperature that way and I could feel my bottom clenching in anticipation. When I finally made it past the door and started to reach for the cabinet, I saw that he had already placed the jar of Vaseline, the thermometer and a small white hand towel on the counter by the sink. Oooh, that man! He had planned to take my temp even before he spanked me! I should have known this would be part of my punishment. He knew how much I hated it!

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