American library books » Other » Nurturing Britney (Surrender Book 7) by Becca Jameson (inspirational novels .TXT) 📕

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life. Just like this. Precious and sitting on my lap. Braless and tempting. Panties wet from something I said. Whimpering when I touch her in all the places that make her aroused.

She’s my little girl. She’s so damn perfect for me.

I pray I get to keep her.

Chapter 27

Britney

I’m nervous after Master Andres leaves. I try to be polite, but I’m embarrassed about my antics in front of him. It had seemed like such a good idea I’d thought up until I spoke it out loud. Even if it was a great idea, something I could pull off if I were alone with no one in my court, I should have realized Daddy wouldn’t agree to it in this lifetime.

I tuck myself behind Daddy as he says goodbye to Master Andres, but as soon as the door is shut, he wastes no time taking me by the hand and leading me to the couch.

I’m shaking as he sits down and positions me in front of him. “Why am I going to punish you, sweetie?”

I whimper. “Because I wasn’t supposed to touch the scissors.”

“That’s right. What did I tell you about sharp objects?”

“They aren’t safe for little girls,” I murmur.

“I’m going to lock all the scissors up in a safe drawer this afternoon, but I expect you to stay away from the kitchen knives too. Do I have to put them up high and lock them as well?”

“No, Sir. I won’t touch the knives.”

“Good.” His hands go to the hem of my tank top and he pulls it over my head, surprising me. A chill brings goosebumps all over my skin. “I changed my mind,” he says as he lowers my skirt and panties at the same time, tapping my ankles so that I’ll step out of them.

I’m trembling again as I stand naked in front of him, but I don’t cry. I earned this punishment.

“I think it will be more effective if you stand in time-out naked after I spank you.” He brings me to one side and lowers me over his lap.

My breasts get smashed against his thigh as he pulls my hands to the small of my back and clasps both wrists in one hand.

He palms my bottom. “Your skin is still pink from when I spanked your naughty bottom early this morning. I hope you don’t decide to make this a habit. I don’t relish the idea of spanking your little bottom several times a day.”

I sniffle and squeeze my eyes closed, bracing for his first swat.

When his hand lands high on my right butt cheek, it takes my breath away. He immediately strikes the other cheek in the same spot, and though it stings, I’m embarrassed to notice that my pussy is wet too. It’s like every time his hand lands on my sensitive bottom, it vibrates to my clit.

He spanks me six more times, hard enough to make me wince. Finally, he’s done and he releases my wrists while smoothing his palm over my heated skin.

I draw my arms to my sides and press my fists against my breasts.

His hand feels good on my heated skin, his fingers trailing too close to my sex several times. Every time he gets near my pussy, I suck in a breath.

I do enjoy being spanked on some level. I can’t deny that. But there are two things I know I won’t be doing again in this house—teasing Davis with my body and touching scissors.

I’m glad I’m not allowed to touch scissors, to be honest. I hate them. They always remind me of that horrible day in first grade. I never liked to cut things when I was in elementary school. My first grade teacher was kind and knew what had happened to me. She only offered me scissors one time and when I panicked, she never asked me again. Thank God.

I wasn’t as lucky in second grade. Twice I got sent to the principal’s office because I refused to cut out my art projects. I was incredibly relieved to find that third graders didn’t have to use scissors anymore.

As I’ve gotten older, I’m not as irrational. I don’t own scissors, but I also don’t tend to freak out when I see a pair. It took a lot of bravery to carry that pair to Daddy earlier. I’m not sorry he’s going to lock them up so that I can’t see them anymore.

He stands me on my feet and wordlessly takes my hand and walks me to the corner of the kitchen.

I shiver at the thought of standing in the corner naked. It’s humiliating. And he’ll be able to see my pink bottom the entire time.

He angles me to the corner and presses his hand to the back of my neck. “Put your forehead against the wall.”

I lean forward, supporting myself with my head.

“Spread your feet wider, sweetie. Shoulder width apart. Toes to the wall. Hands clasped behind your back.”

When I do this, I suck in a breath because my breasts are forced to touch the two walls also.

His hand lands between my shoulder blades and he presses me closer. “Nipples too, sweet girl. Push your titties into the corner.”

I whimper but do as I’m told, unable to ignore the wetness pooling between my legs.

“That’s a girl. Now, you’ll stand here until I tell you otherwise.”

I lick my lips but don’t move an inch. I earned this punishment. I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t want Daddy to think I’m a naughty little girl. I can be good. I’ll do better. I promise myself I will. What if he’s mad at me for being disobedient two times today?

I don’t cry even though I’m sad and scared. I want him to adore me. I don’t want him to send me away.

I hold very still, forcing myself not to move a muscle. It’s hard because every breath causes my nipples to shift against the rough texture of the wall. Wetness gathers between my legs. I’m afraid it’s going to trickle down my

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