Becka leaned her head against the cool window of the taxi, watching the neon lights blur as they sped past. Her stomach churned—not from the drinks but from the gnawing realization that she had stayed out far too late. Again.

Rachel, her best friend and the only person brave enough to ride home with her, was sprawled against the seat, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. "You think they’re still up?" she asked, voice thick with the remnants of tequila and bad decisions.

Becka exhaled sharply. "Of course, they’re up. My dad never sleeps when I pull shit like this. And Uncle Jake?" She shook her head. "He’s probably pacing the damn house like a caged animal, ready to rip me a new one."

Rachel snorted, then winced at the sound. "Maybe they'll be asleep. Maybe they won’t even notice."

Becka shot her a look. "Rachel, my dad notices everything."

Silence settled between them, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the tires against the road. Becka's pulse drummed in her ears as they neared home, her anxiety spiking with every mile. She could already picture her father, arms crossed, jaw tight, disappointment radiating off him like a storm cloud. Uncle Jake? He’d be worse. He had a way of looking at her like she was an out-of-control fire he didn’t know how to put out.

Rachel nudged her. "You scared?"

Becka huffed. "Terrified."

Rachel grinned. "Yeah, me too."

As the taxi pulled onto her street, the house came into view—porch light still on, a dark silhouette standing just beyond its glow. Becka’s stomach dropped.

Uncle Jake was waiting.

"You're going to regret this, young lady," Uncle Jake's gruff voice echoed through the hallway as I stumbled through the front door, the smell of whiskey clinging to my clothes like an unwanted perfume. It was well past midnight and the house was eerily quiet, except for the faint ticking of the grandfather clock.

"Look at the time!" Daddy's eyes were narrowed, his expression stern. "Do you have any idea what we've been through, worrying about you?"

The floorboards creaked under my weight as I shuffled closer to them, my cheeks flaming. "I'm sorry," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I like the attention. It’s fun.”"

Daddy's face contorted in a mix of anger and disappointment. "We've had this conversation before," he began, his voice rising with each word. "You're not to go out to those bars again. You know the kind of trouble you could get into."

Uncle Jake stepped forward, his handsome features now twisted into a scowl. "You've been warned," he said, his voice a low rumble. "We've had enough of your disobedience."

Daddy's grip on my wrist tightened. "Take her to her room," he ordered, his eyes flashing. "We need to teach her a lesson she won't soon forget."

As Uncle Jake dragged me down the hallway, my heart raced. The anticipation of punishment filled me with a strange mix of dread and arousal. I could feel their heavy footsteps behind me, their presence like a storm cloud gathering in the quiet space. My room door swung open with a sharp creak, and I was pushed inside. The cold wood of my bed frame hit the back of my legs, and I sat down heavily, my mind racing.

Daddy followed, his belt unbuckling with a metallic clink that seemed to echo through the room. "Take off your dress," he said firmly. What!? But I knew better than to disobey, I was in enough trouble.

My hands trembled as I obeyed, sliding the fabric over my head and letting it pool around my waist. The cool air of the room prickled my skin, making me more aware of my nakedness.

"Over the bed," Uncle Jake instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. I leaned over, my palms pressing into the mattress, my heart thumping like a drum. The bedspread was rough against my bare skin, sending a shiver down my spine. Daddy's belt cracked through the air once, twice, three times, the sound a sharp warning of what was to come. 

“Ouch, Daddy!” I screamed. I hadn’t been spanked since I was a kid, and certainly not like this!

The first smack of the belt hit my lower back, and I gasped, biting back a scream. The sting spread like fire, the pain intense and immediate. My body tensed, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as the tears began to well up in my eyes. They didn't hold back, the leather meeting my flesh in a rhythm that grew steadier and harder. Each strike echoed through the room, punctuating the silence like a series of exclamation marks.

Uncle Jake stood behind me, his hand resting on my upper back, the weight of his touch both comforting and oppressive. "You're going to learn to obey," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. I nodded, my breaths coming in short gasps as Daddy continued to spank me.

With each smack of the belt, my ass grew redder, the pain a stark contrast to the coldness of the room. I could feel the warmth of it, the skin tender and sensitive. "Look at that ass," Uncle Jake murmured, his voice thick with something that sounded almost like admiration. "So red and ripe."

Daddy paused for a moment, letting the belt hang loosely in his hand as he stepped closer to inspect his handiwork. He traced the outline of one of the welts with his index finger, sending a shiver down my spine. "It's a beautiful sight," he said gruffly. "But it's not enough. We need to make sure you remember this."

Uncle Jake stepped around the bed, his gaze lingering on my exposed ass. "I think she gets the picture," he said, a hint of amusement in his tone. "But maybe we should drive the point home." His hand trailed down my spine to the base of my neck, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin there.

Daddy nodded, his eyes never leaving my crimson cheeks. "You're going to get a taste of your own medicine," he said, his voice a dark promise. "Bend over more. Spread your legs wider."

I did as I was told, my heart pounding in my chest. Uncle Jake's hand slipped between my thighs, his calloused fingers brushing against my soaking wet pussy. "Look how eager she is for this," he said with a smirk, his breath hot on the back of my neck.

"Your pussy's wet," Daddy said, his voice filled with a mix of anger and lust. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

I bit my lip, the humiliation of his observation only making me wetter. "Yes, Daddy," I whispered, my voice shaking.

Uncle Jake's chuckle was low and dark. "Look at her," he said, his hand cupping my ass, his thumb sliding through my slick folds. "Such a little slut."

Daddy's hand came down hard, slapping my reddened flesh. "You're going to get what you deserve," he said, his voice thick with lust. The sting of his hand only served to make me wetter, my body betraying my nerves.