Daddy's Home (Part 4)

This is a series of shorts I was commissioned to write by a patron. Previous section can be found here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/41583174/

Smack.

The Baby whimpered as Daddy brought his hand down on naked skin, striking the same spot that he'd been aiming at for the past ten minutes.

He didn't need a paddle, a cane, or a belt. Just his hand was more than enough to leave stinging red marks that'd give way to bruises by the morning. 

Still, even as tears began to form in the Baby's eyes, it was clear that Daddy wasn't going all out. He'd done worse, in less time, when he was really mad.

This was a show.

With every strike, every loud 'SMACK', every whimper of pain from the Baby, Daddy kept his gaze locked on the Maid.

The message couldn't have been clearer. When I get to you, things are going to be much, much worse. 

Once the imprint of his hand was firmly pounded into the Baby's bottom, Daddy stopped, pulling him up to a sitting position.

"Shh," he said. "It's alright. Have you learned your lesson?"

The Baby nodded.

"You won't have any more leaky diapers, then?"

It was an impossible question to answer, since the Baby couldn't dictate when he got a change any more than he could hold his bladder. He knew what he had to say, though. "Yes, Daddy…"

Daddy smiled. He was still staring at the Maid. "Good baby. Now, go get yourself a fresh diaper, alright?" 

The Baby nodded, got up, and walked over to his wi… the Maid. She watched Daddy anxiously, but her punishment wouldn't come yet. Not until the Baby was taken care of.

Diaper changes were becoming routine. Powder, tapes, and a little fussing later, the Baby was taken care of and back on the nursery floor. 

As the Maid moved to put away the powder, though, Daddy's hand caught her wrist. "No."

"Daddy?" she asked, confused.

"Get on the table."

She was already in hot water, and she knew better than to disobey. Pushing up onto the table, she laid back.

"You've let the Baby leak three times this week," Daddy said. As he spoke, he flipped up her skirts and pulled down her panties, leaving her totally exposed. "I'm beginning to think you aren't taking your responsibilities seriously. Maybe if you feel what it's like, though, you'll be more diligent." 

"Yes, Daddy," she said, shivering as cold wipes touched her bare skin.

Daddy took his time, wiping her even though she was already clean, rubbing in the powder until her skin was almost pure white. When he slid the diaper beneath her, though, he hesitated.

The Maid lifted her head, expecting instructions. Instead, Daddy just bent to reach into a drawer, coming out with a small aluminum-wrapped pellet.

Taking it out of the packaging, he pushed the lubricated glycerin suppository inside her, delighting in her squeaks of discomfort.

With that done, he pulled the diaper into place, stuck down the tapes, and stepped back. "Get up."

She got up. 

"Bend over the table."

She bent.

"Wait."

She did so, and Daddy left the room, leaving her to squirm.

She wasn't that uncomfortable, yet. The suppository wouldn't be felt in the first few minutes, and her position wasn't particularly awkward. The anxiety over what came next, though, was enough to make her shift from foot to foot in worried anticipation.

When Daddy returned minutes later, he was carrying a paddle.

"Since you have padding," he explained, walking up behind her. "It only seemed right to make sure I could get my message across. Take deep breaths, Maid."

Inhaling, she braced herself for impact.

Daddy started slow. The paddle hit hard and her diaper did nothing to help, but he took his time between each spank. She was able to breathe and recover before the next one came. It was more restrained than she'd expected, more patient.

As this was happening, she felt a twinge in her belly. With horror, she realized what he was waiting for.

Daddy noticed, but didn't remark on her squeak of discomfort. He just kept spanking her, slowly building up the tempo and power in every hit.

Before long, there was a "WHUMP" of the paddle on her diaper every second, and the cramps in her belly were making her clench up in time. 

Tears forming in her eyes, the Maid tried to fight it, to keep from humiliating herself, but it was futile. With a grumbling 'blorch', she lost control and let out a tidal flood of muck into her diaper.

At that, Daddy stopped holding back. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

Ten times in rapid succession, he brought the paddle down as hard as he could, drawing out cries of pain and shame from the Maid as each impact smashed her still-swelling load into her.

As she started to cry, Daddy stopped. He'd taught her the lesson he wanted to.

"You will not ask for a change," he said, setting aside the paddle. "In fact, you will not say a single word about your diaper. I'll decide when you've had enough, but it won't be until you've leaked."

Fighting her tears, the Maid nodded. The smell of her messy diaper was dominating her senses, alongside the lingering ache of her spanking.

"Now," Daddy said. "I believe the garden needs attending to. If you're done being naughty, please go attend to that."