“You’re going to spank me.” Her shoulders dropped with the statement. The wet tresses of her hair brushed along her collarbone.
“Of course, I am,” he said harshly. “And Uncle Frank is here. He’s in the dayroom. That’s where you’ll get your paddling as a reminder to the other girls not to disobey their nannies.” Even if their nanny was completely wrong in giving the fucking order they were handing out.
“What?” she asked, taking a step back.
“No. Don’t even try to wiggle out of this.” He grabbed hold of her arm and dragged her forward. “The sooner we do this, the sooner it’s over.”
“Don’t sulk, Ariana.” Costello tugged on her harder when she tried to dig in her heels.
A paddling in front of everyone? And Uncle Frank? What if she couldn’t keep it together? What if she didn’t act right, and he saw right through it?
“I’m not,” she tried to reason with him. “Can’t we go to your room?” She hurried her steps to keep up with him.
He cast a dark glare at her as they approached the dayroom door. Shoving her against the wall, he cupped her chin and pushed her head back until she was locked into his gaze.
“No, Ariana. We can’t go to my room.” His nostrils flared. He wasn’t just angry with her, there was a hint of worry dancing in his dark eyes. “I have to bring you in there and paddle your ass for everyone to see, because Frank Romero said so. And he’s my fucking boss. Do you get that?” He lowered his voice. “And for your sake, I hope you’re ready to give the best fucking performance of your life.”
Her heart stopped. Cold ran through her veins.
Costello knew.
He fucking knew.
“Daddy, what do you mean?” she asked with as light of a tone as she could muster given the fact her entire insides were shaking with the tsunami of fear his statement had caused.
“Don’t play with me right now, Ariana. Save the act for in there, because if Frank gets suspicious, we’re both fucked. You have no idea how much danger you could be in.”
Tears fell from her eyes. So much was at stake.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered, hoping if she just kept up the pretense the intense dread would subside.
Costello’s jaw tightened. “You will soon enough. Now let’s go.” He released her chin to grab her arm, digging his fingertips into her. He yanked the door to the dayroom open and hauled her inside.
The other girls, already dressed in their pajamas, were sitting on the gray carpet lined up like they were waiting for story time. Only tonight there wouldn’t be any funny stories and colorful picture books.
In the front of the room, where the night nannie would sit to read to them all, was a bench. Her throat closed around her cry. It was a spanking bench. She’d seen them online. There were two padded spots for her knees, and then a long leather bench for her to lie over. Leather bindings hung from the knee supports, the bench, and the two hand grips at the front of the contraption. She’d have nowhere to wiggle to, not that Costello ever allowed her to get free of his grip once he had her.
“Oh, God,” Ariana groaned as Costello continued to lead her to the bench.
“Girls,” Uncle Frank said, standing beside the bench. “I’m sorry that your story time has been cancelled this evening, but it’s for a good reason. Every lesson you learn here is for your benefit, so that when you’re adopted, you can be the very best little girl for your forever daddy. Ariana was not a good little girl tonight. She was disrespectful to Nanny Nancy, and you know how hard Nancy works to keep you girls safe and happy.” Frank paused, giving the girls a chance to nod in agreement.
Ariana knew none of them actually agreed. Even in their drugged hallucinations of this reality they’d been forced into, the complaints among the girls about Nancy were the same. She was seen as evil.
Costello pointed to the bench. “Climb up, young lady,” he said in his low tone as Frank continued to explain to the girls the reasons for this public humiliation.
“I can’t,” Ariana whispered to herself as she climbed onto the bench, and Costello strapped her legs down on the knee supports with the bindings.
“You don’t have a choice,” Costello muttered into her ear as he pulled the thick belt over her back and buckled it.
“Ariana’s daddy is going to discipline her, and I want all of you to watch quietly. Learn from her mistakes so you don’t find yourselves in a similar position,” Frank announced.
“Grip the handles,” Costello instructed, pointing to them. Through a haze of fear, she wrapped her hands around the grips and pressed her forehead to the leather padding. The table was tilted forward enough that her ass was propped higher than her head.