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Daddy Daddy Daddy! It's Saturday! You said we could make cookies today!" Bethan was on a tear and trying to avoid naptime. Daddy was feeling rather awake himself and in need of a good cookie buzz, so he said yes indeed, he had promised they could make cookies (figuring they could always have a late naptime after the sugar crash). Daddy laid out the cookbook on the counter. Bethan looked at him expectantly. First! He commanded with mock militancy, they must wash their hands. Daddy helped her at the sink, and she held out her hands for him to dry off. Second! They needed ingredients... He called out the items and she fetched them dutifully. Flour and the sugars from the lower cupboard. Vanilla, walnuts, and chocolate chips from a higher cupboard. Daddy let her climb on a chair for those. Butter from the fridge. Eggs from the fridge - two hands please! Salt shaker from the table. Measuring spoons and cups from the drawer. Daddy showed her how to set the oven (check inside first, just in case). Daddy got the mixer ready, cautious about keeping her fingers out when the mixer is on. She scooted a chair up to the counter and sat up on her knees so she could help him. Daddy continued reading the recipe, helping her measure out each thing in turn. They got the butter and sugars, eggs and vanilla mixed together. Daddy worked the mixer and scraped the sides of the bowl with the spatula.
Just as Daddy started to tell her how much flour to put in, the doorbell rang. He told her to please wait for him, he'd be right back. He turned off the mixer and went off to answer the door. Bethan sat on the chair patiently. She could kind of hear Daddy talking with whomever at the door. She thought to herself, "I'm a big girl. Daddy says that lots. I can help do cookies while Daddy's busy." She got up on the chair and picked up the package of flour. She tried pouring some into the measuring cup. All ten pounds fell into the measuring cup, on the counter, and all over the floor. Uh-oh. Well, she'd get that in a minute. First, she'd mix in the flour. She dumped the flour overflowing from the measuring cup into the mixing bowl, then turned on the mixer. White clouds billowed from the mixing bowl. While the mixer hummed away, Bethan got down off the chair to clean up the mess. She found a dish towel, ran water on it, and mopped at the flour. Daddy came back as she was wiping the flour from the counter to the floor. His jaw dropped. She looked up at him. "It's ok - I'm cleaning it up, Daddy." Flour covered her face and shirt and pants. Clouds still hung in the air. She almost slipped taking a step in her little sock feet.
Daddy snapped off the mixer. He picked her up bodily and moved her aside, sitting her on a chair at the table. He grabbed the broom from beside the fridge and swept at the dry flour. He brushed the flour still on the counter into the sink. Then he used the dustpan to scoop up the damp flour trying to become glue. He took the dishtowel from Bethan, shook it out over the garbage and set the towel in the sink. Bethan tried to help clean up but Daddy shot her a look and told her to sit back down in the chair till he told her otherwise. He managed to contain the majority of the disaster. He got things under control. He took the broom and dustpan outside to shake them. He stripped off Bethan’s shirt and jeans and shook them outside, laying them over the arms of the patio chair.
When he came back Bethan had moved and was in the living room sitting on the sofa. He, turned off the oven, went to find Bethan who was making a mess of the sofa with here mucky hands. This time he was cross as he had told her to stay where she was. He grabbed her by the arm her to get her over his lap. She was facedown over his thighs, perpendicular to him, her full AdultChild weight on top of him. He spread her legs a little and stroked on the insides of her legs as well, up to the elastic band of her panties. His cock stiffened. She pouted and whined before he even really touched her. She squirmed and alternately groaned and squeaked. He shook her by the hips and ordered her to hold still. His cock hardened fully. It was poking at her through his pants. He squirmed a bit, trying to get it in a comfortable position, which just meant it rubbed against her more. He gave her a couple of really hard swats right together. She hollered and jumped and twisted and came up off his body all at once, hands flailing, grabbing onto his cock - not altogether unpleasantly. He yelped himself, got her settled back on his lap (her hand decidedly no longer squeezing the life out of his cock). Ok, time for business. He told her he was going to give her ten spanks. If she fought too much, he would have to start over. She protested. He told her the longer she put it off, the worse it was going to feel. She protested some more anyway. One. Two. Three. These were definitely the punishment spankings now. Her noises changed to those of distress. Four. Five. Six. She was fighting hard now. He used his free hand to press down on the back of her. Seven. Eight. She started sobbing. Mostly crocodile tears and bruised ego, but a number of real tears thrown in. Nine. Ten. All done.
After he settled her down with all the caressing and stroking. He sat he up right on the sofa and squatted down on the floor in front of her. He looked hard at her and said "Did I or did I not tell you to wait for me?" "Well, yeah, but I... " "No. I told you to wait. Yes or no." "Yes, Daddy." She shuffled her feet and looks down. "Did you wait for me?" "No, Daddy. But I tried to clean it all back up." "Yes you did, sweetheart. But there shouldn't have been the mess in the first place. When Daddy tells you to do something, you need to listen." She was near tears. She had let her Daddy down. He sighed heavily. He brushed the hair out of her eyes, took her chin in his hand and brought her face up to meet his. "No one got hurt and nothing got broken. You are not a bad girl; you just made a bad choice. I am upset about what happened, and I still love you very much. You know that, don't you? Even when you make a bad choice, you're still my little princess." She snuffled and nodded.
Daddy gathered Bethan up and sat her on his lap facing him. He snuggled her up and told her they were all done, that she was a good girl, a very good girl, and Daddy wasn't mad. She managed a few more tears, primarily for his benefit. She sniffed a few more times and let herself be hugged. They sat quietly for several minutes. She looked up. "Daddy, can we go finish the cookies?" He laughed. Of course they could. They trooped downstairs into the kitchen. Daddy turned the oven back on. He checked the cookie dough to see how much flour had stayed in the bowl. Then he added a little bit from a pile left on the counter to stiffen up the dough. They finished up the dough with the walnuts. Daddy opened up the bag of chocolate chips. He made two small piles of chocolate chips, one for Bethan and one for Daddy. He let Bethan pour the rest into the mixing bowl. They got all done mixing everything and put the dough on the cookie sheet in small blobs, licking the spoon after every blob. Almost as much went on the cookie sheet as went into Bethan and Daddy. Finally, they filled the sheet and put the pan in the oven. Daddy showed Ursula how to set the timer, and they sat at the table, eating their little piles of chocolate chips. When the cookies were done, Daddy took the pan out and put the cookies on a wire rack to cool. Bethan was already starting to look a little green around the edges from eating all the cookie dough. He let her have one cookie with a big glass of milk, then declared Bed-and-Story time. She could have more cookies after her nap (and after dinner too, Daddy thought). They went back up to Daddy's Big Bed, this time with light shoulders and full stomachs. Daddy picked out a couple of books and tucked Bethan into bed. She fell asleep fairly quickly.
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