Page 18 of Mariah

“Owie!” she cried, not moving from position.

“This will help you to be a better sous chef,” Chef Graham scolded as he brought the brush down again and again. “This spanking will help you remember to be alert and focused.”

“Yes, Sir,” she wailed as he continued to spank. It didn’t escape her notice that he referred to her as a sous chef and not a kitchen assistant as he usually called her, but now was not the time to question his word choices.

The brush came down again and again, the swats moving from the fullest, fleshiest part of her bottom to the crease between her butt and thighs. Tears pricked her eyelids and she breathed deeply, reminding herself that she needed this and that she was lucky to have been given the option to keep her job.

Chef Graham was a skilled spanker, leaving no part of her bottom untouched, hitting with just the right amount of force and lecturing just enough to make her feel all the feelings one should feel from a very thorough spanking. She was relieved, and thankful and felt very thoroughly chastised. She was determined in her resolve to do better, and she was sore and sorry. Very, very sorry. Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he stopped. The brush was placed on the desk, right in her line of vision, and his hands were on her, pulling her pants and diaper over her hot achy bottom. The diaper felt scratchy and uncomfortable against her skin, but she told herself that was extra penance.

Chef Graham gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him. This was normally the point where her tears would be wiped and she’d be pulled in for a hug, but Chef Graham kept her at arm’s length.

“How do you feel?” he questioned. “Would you be able to take the same again?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my job,” Mariah answered honestly. “I appreciate the chance. Thank you for correcting me.”

Even as she said the words, she weighed her conflicting emotions. If this had been a punishment, it would have likely been worse, but it would have been a one and done. She wouldn’t have to look forward to the same treatment day after day. Aside from that conundrum, she felt the same as she did after any punishment Baze gave her. Maybe a little different because Baze was off limits. Technically, so was Chef Graham but in a much different way. He wasn’t married to her bestie.

Chef Graham looked taken aback by her gratitude. He frowned and quickly recovered. “I’m glad you’re okay. Let’s get to work.”

Graham

Spanking Mariah had awakened all sorts of unexpected feelings in him, leaving him cranky and confused as he attempted to sort out everything he thought he knew.

He hadn’t been too surprised to find out she wore a diaper and identified as a very little Little; as best he could tell, all of Baze’s girls did. He supposed he’d known that deep down, but it was easy to forget with Mariah. For the most part he only saw the competent, professional side of her.

The biggest surprise had been when she’d looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and thanked him for correcting her. He could tell she was genuine about it, and it took him by surprise. When had Kaylie ever thanked him for spanking her? Never. He could spank her until she couldn’t sit down and the first thing she would do was push him for more. To see what would happen next.

He could tell Mariah was genuinely upset about her mistake whereas it was the sort of thing Kaylie would have done just to see what he would do. Her appetite for punishment had been insatiable. Switching to maintenance hadn’t helped at all. Even knowing she would be spanked every day, and receive the attention she so desperately craved, her behavior had continued to get worse. She’d continued to push the limits until she was hurting herself and others just to get what she wanted, just to see what would happen.

He’d loved her, loved being her Daddy, but at that point, he’d had to realize the relationship was toxic and that his boundaries weren’t being respected. It had taken him a long time to recover. Some days, Graham honestly wasn’t sure he really had. Breaking it off with his Little girl had been heart wrenching and painful. After years of toxic manipulation and trying everything he could think of to make her happy only for it to never be enough, he’d been left resentful and bitter, full of bias toward Littles, a group of people he’d once loved.

His mentor, Trey, said his feelings were normal and okay, walls he was putting up to protect himself and that he didn’t need to feel guilty for his emotions: anger and suspicion and lack of compassion. He’d also promised that someday those feelings would fade, and Graham would be ready let someone in again and be able to look back on that relationship with clarity. Graham hadn’t really believed him at the time, hadn’t been able to envision a time where that would be true, but ever since he’d met Mariah, those promises had echoed in his mind on a daily basis. Was that what was happening now? Was he ready to let someone in again?

He still felt himself being cold and aloof; he hadn’t even hugged her after her spanking.

He’d just pulled up her pants and sent her to work. She was standing next to him now, with a pile of carrots and celery in front of her, chopping vegetables to prep for the next week. He had a pile of onions in front of him for the same reason but he hadn’t even picked up the knife.

Doing so now, he chopped both ends off an onion and peeled the outer layers. As he chopped, he watched Mariah. She was hyper focused on her task, all business. If not for her red-rimmed eyes and the occasional sniffle and the way she shifted uncomfortably every couple of minutes, no one would know she’d just been taken to task in his office and was now sporting a butt plug and a very hot bottom. Kaylie would have already been poking and berating him by now. Mariah had barely looked at him. Somehow this made him feel sad and empty.

“Mariah, do you think we should make stew or chicken for tonight’s dinner menu?” he asked. He wanted to start a real conversation with her, but it felt awkward to talk about anything other than work.

Mariah frowned as she considered her choices. “I know I should say stew, because we are chopping all these vegetables and we need to be sure to use them up…”

“But you’d rather have chicken?”

Mariah shook her head. “I’d rather have stew over chicken, but… my bottom hurts and I’m feeling weepy. It feels like a comfort food sort of day.”

Her honest answer warmed his heart and gave him an opening for a conversation that wasn’t solely centered around work, something he was surprised to find he actually wanted.

“What is your ultimate comfort food?” he asked, knowing that if he had all the ingredients, he’d change the menu immediately just to please her.

“Macaroni and cheese,” Mariah answered without hesitating. “The homemade stuff. Not the kind that comes in a box.”

Cheese. Cream. Elbow macaroni, dry mustard, bread crumb topping. Garlic. He had all the things he needed. It was a done deal.

But she’d given him an opening for a conversation not centered around food so he took it. “You’re feeling weepy, huh? Is that normal for you after a punishment? To feel weepy and crave comfort food?”

Her head jerked up. “It wasn’t a punishment. You said you don’t do punishments.”