Your older boyfriend spanks you for accidentally cumming on his lap in public.
CW: Daddy kink, spanking kink, crying, sweet talking, praising, pet names
"You don't get to come undone in a goddamn cafe full of strangers and think 'sorry' fixes it."
He didn't even look at you when those words left his mouth, he was so frustrated with you, his grip on your wrist tightening as he dragged you through the apartment towards the couch.
You didn't mean to cum on his leg. When you sat on his thick thigh, waiting for coffee and he started impatiently bouncing his knee up and down, he so happened to be hitting all the right spots. And.. that's when you came.
Not loud, no. But gosh, was it obvious enough to gather looks from those around you. Your legs shaking and your hips moving back and forth trying to ride it out.
He couldn't even leave in peace—had a noticeably large dark spot on his jeans when he got up to grab your order.
He sat down, dragging you over his lap quickly before bringing his hand down to your back to push you flat across his knees.
"Count them," he growled. "And if I hear one goddamn peep? We start over."
You were scared, your heart beating out of your chest when he ripped your skirt down along with your panties. You clenched around nothing as you felt the cool air hit your bare cunt.
This wasn’t like him. He was never rough with you, never spanked you. Not until now. That’s how you knew you messed up real bad.
You yelped, pushing on your tippy toes and leaning forward out of pain—your elbows digging deep into his thighs causing a groan to leave his mouth.
His free hand was quick to get ahold of your face—gripping your cheeks roughly before bringing his face close to yours.
“Shh, shh. What did I say, hmm?”
“M’srrwy,” you muffled through his forceful grip. Your eyes became glossy, eyebrows furrowing in a begging manner.
He softened a bit when he saw tears forming in your eyes, hands still squeezing your cheeks together before his grip loosened a bit.
“Need you to be a good girl for me, kay? You’re only making this harder for yourself.”
His tone grew softer and more reassuring after seeing your facial expression change once you realized that he wasn’t messing around. He wanted you to feel safe, but at the same time, wanted this lesson to stick.
“Say ‘yes, daddy.’ Then we’ll start again. Properly.”
He raised his eyebrows at you, waiting for your response. It took you a moment to gather yourself before you repeated it back.
His hand slid down to your red ass cheek to rub it, attempting to soothe the pain before he made it worse in the next few minutes.
“Yes, daddy,” you muttered under your shaky breath, whispering the last part.
“Count,” he said. But before you could prepare,
You hissed, biting your lip hard to suppress any sound that threatened to leave your chest.
He hummed in response, the sound of your whimper stirring something animalistic within him. He praises you, a smile creeping onto his face as his hand gently rubbed over the skin he just spanked.
“We’re going up to ten. You can take it, can’t you, darlin'?”
You hummed a yes, staring at his dark brown boot that tapped calmly on the ground, your vision becoming even more blurry with each second that passed by.
He raised his hand again, striking down a third time, then a fourth before rubbing the red area.
On the sixth, the slap was harder, sharper—causing a loud gasp to leave your mouth followed up by pleas for him to stop and that you learned your lesson, knowing you might have to start over.
But how could he stop when your cries were the most beautiful sound to him? Though the rule was to start over if you made a sound, he felt slight guilt for already putting you through so much. You were too precious, too innocent.
“You’re doing so good, sweetheart. So good,” he whispered, his other hand coming up to slowly comb through your hair in a way to calm you down.
Each smack got harder than the last, as if he was testing you now, seeing how far he can push you before you break.
You looked up at him with your large, pleading eyes. “Just one more, kay?” He softly spoke, cradling your face into his large hand. You obediently nodded, looking back at the ground, squeezing your eyes shut.
He was nice enough to take off one hit at least. You were a shaking mess beneath him, your elbows bruising his thighs, your legs shaking from pain—just couldn’t put you through anymore. Hated to see it.
The final smack came down the hardest, the impact leaving a handprint on your sensitive skin this time, causing a stinging sensation to last, your skin feeling hot.
“All done, baby,” he softly spoke, almost sounding proud of you. You didn’t move, didn’t say anything. Just sniffled and let your body go limp.
He pulled your panties up, leaving your jean skirt pooling at the ground. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against your shoulder. Then he noticed your silent cries, droplets of salty tears dripping off of your chin and onto his boot.
“Oh, baby. C'mere,” he said softly before bringing you up to sit across his lap. He held you close, his arms holding you so, so tight.
“Hurt so bad,” you whined into his neck, soaking his shirt in tears. His hand rubbed your back, moving back and forth in small, soothing motions.
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” He murmured, fingers moving to comb your hair. "But you took it like a good girl, didn't you? You were so brave. Did so well for daddy.”
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