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embers-glow
The personality of an elf is greatly influenced by the name they are given. Her parents had named her Ember, hoping to instill a spunky spirit that reflected their passionate way of living. They got much more than they bargained for.
From the beginning, Ember was a feisty, naughty girl. And she had an obsession with fire. Often she was caught playing with matches. Constantly she would talk back.
She was a total daddy's girl. And that's what kept her from being punished sufficiently, or sometimes even at all. Her mother would beg daddy to punish her, and sometimes he would. But she would put on the waterworks and do her best to manipulate her way out of the situation.
Her mother understood females and their behinds, as she was a female herself. She knew the light pats her husband would lay down were not sufficient to bring out real tears, let alone curb bad behavior. She begged daddy to use a strap, like the one she had grown up with, but he was a softy, a doormat.
One day, daddy came downstairs to enjoy his morning coffee. He did a double take as something caught his eye out the window. Smoke from behind the garden shed. There was a loud bang and great ball of fire plumed into the air.
He ran out and found Ember. She had been playing with matches, gasoline, and other solvents from the garage. She was trying to douse the fire with a garden hose. The little explosion had severely damaged the side of the garden shed, destroying tons of daddy's tools and projects. He ordered her inside and put the fire out himself.
He braced the remaining structure of the garden shed. As he cleaned up the soggy rubble of his projects, he found something that sparked an idea. A thick, leather strap with the end split into three loops, that he often used for sharpening shears.
Usually when Ember had been naughty, and his wife wouldn't let up about it, daddy would sulk his way into Ember's room, talk to her about the misbehavior, give her bare behind a few measured swats with his palm while she did her dramatic performance, and then give her a prolonged hug and leave.
Today was different.
Today, he walked into the house, marched into the kitchen where his wife was, and slammed the strap down on the table. His wife turned to see her husband, fuming mad. She was about to ask what was the matter when she saw the strap. Her bottom cheeks clenched instinctively. It was the same style her own father used.
"You've finally come to your senses," she smirked.
"She's really done it this time. She caused an explosion. Busted the shed halfway down. She could've seriously hurt herself. I want you to take this strap and light her little bottom up this time. I can't bear doing it, her sobbing always breaks my heart." he requested.
"You can't be serious darling," his wife laughed, "let me show you something." He followed her up the stairs. She turned back to him and said "shh... quietly."
They silently approached the door to Ember's room. He looked at his wife with concerned confusion. She pointed at the keyhole. He crouched down and looked inside it.
Inside, Ember was practicing her performance in front of her mirror. She huffed and puffed and worked up a few tears in the corner of her eyes. She lifted the back of her dress and lowered her panties, looking back over her shoulder at her plump tush in the mirror. She knew she had an adorable bottom and she took advantage of this as often as possible. To get attention, mercy, favors, you name it.
"I'm sorry daddy, did I burn down your little shed?" she said in a sarcastically sweet voice, wiggling her bottom and watching it jiggle in the mirror. "Oh no, are you going to give my little tushy a spanking? I'm sooooo sorry" she laughed, patting her backside. She was gleeful at the knowledge that she had daddy wrapped around her fingers. "Ugh I'm so glad he's a pushover" she said as she tousled her hair.
He opened the door slowly. Ember yelped and spun around when she noticed him, hurriedly lowering her dress. Usually she heard his heavy footsteps well before he reached her door. She immediately launched into her manipulative performance, feigning great guilt over her behavior.
She had rehearsed all of this before, of course. She alternated rapidly between flattery, apology, and self-pity. She paused for a moment. Something was off. Usually she could expect him to be comforting her and patiently explaining expectations to her while he pet her hair.
Ember looked up at daddy and saw his face, contorted and red. His eye twitched slightly. He was silent, but there was something boiling under the surface.
"Um, Daddy?" she stammered out as he walked over to her, towering over her. He picked her up roughly and carried her under his arm. Surely her act would still get her out of any serious punishment. She was still confident in that.
He placed her over his lap as he sat down. She squealed as he skipped over any kind of discussion straight to baring her butt. She launched back into her performance. "I'm sorry I was a naughty girl, daddy. I didn't mean to burn down your shed" she said sweetly, wiggling her bottom. "I promise I won't do it again. But I understand if you think I need some spankies."
There was no response. An awkward moment of silence lingered. Just then a deafening crack split the silence. An explosion of hot pain jolted across Ember's upturned bottom and through her body to her brain.
Ember shrieked at the pain and shock, barely maintaining the sweet voice she usually used in any interactions with daddy. "YeeEOW!!! Daddy! What are you doing!" The jolt of pain subsided into a warm throbbing just as another searing smack was delivered to her other cheek. "What the hell Daddy! You're HURTING me!" Her real voice, her brat voice was starting to shine through.
The next few smacks continued with a slow steady pace, with similar force and through similarly indignant protests. Ember began squirming. Her hands tightly gripped his leg and the chair. Her legs kicked behind her as if doing the butterfly stroke.
Ember was stunned at this turn of events. Daddy was supposed to be her doormat. He existed to serve, protect, and pay for her. She couldn't believe he had the nerve to hurt her perfect, delicate, little hiney. She was a princess. And this was no way to treat a princess. She looked back over her shoulder and saw her mother watching from the doorway. "You.... you're making him do this! You old hag!" she spat at her mother.
"What did you just say to my wife?" Daddy snarled. Ember had never heard him speak like this. Suddenly, the spanks began raining down rapidly, with little concern for if they landed on her chubby bum cheeks or her thighs. She screamed in pain, flailing. She thrashed and bucked in ways that looked nothing like the rehearsed bum wiggles from her usual performance. The uncontrolled bawling and resulting mess across her face looked nothing like her typical calculated use of tears.
He pinned her down and continued applying crispy fire across her deserving backside as she wailed, kicked, and scraped at his legs. It was going to take a lot more than a few minutes of spanking to break this brat and make her see the error of her ways. But daddy still had all day, and mommy still had the strap.
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