Robin Lorinthrope’s phone pinged. She was over five minutes late leaving the office. She stood, running her hands down her curvy frame. Her black skirt accentuated her legs. She clicked her heels right out of the building.
She left at 6:06pm. Her phone recorded and alerted at the time. She had drinks with a friend at a posh little plug-in place down the street from the office. Robin used a step counter to see how many steps she took in a day. When she walked a lot, her phone pinged away like an electronic bird, begging for attention. Robin’s blonde, pigtailed icon alerted her of a benchmark. A picture of her with new pink running shoes congratulated her on her next level.
Robin enjoyed her free time for 46 minutes. She and her friend spoke about absolutely nothing and completely everything. One of her apps tracked her. It announced her location with a widespread photo of her in a red slouchie beanie and big sun glasses.
Her electronic calender put her into a cab with three dings, then in front of the nice big house she called home. Robin hightailed it upstairs and into her room. Clothes threatened to burst out of her closet in her very presence. Hangers were landmines, and everything held something else.
Robin tossed her phone into her overstuffed, unmade bed. The bedding was precious. Soft pinks and whites in layers. She kicked off her heels and reached for the zipper of her skirt. The consistent pings from her cell phone made the atmosphere tense. She raced to undress and re-hang her day’s attire.
She slid across the carpeted floor. Robin yanked out a t-shirt and a pair of panties from her dresser. She rolled into the t-shirt, yanking her hair in front of her face as she hustled. Robin used her feet to push the flimsy material of her thongs down the rest of her body. The leg holes stretched and tangled around her ankles.
She heard the door slam while she was one leg into a pair of boy shorts. She stopped skipping around. Robin quietly leaned against the wall and slid the other leg in. She ran her hand through her hair. She was silent.
“ROBIN!” His tone said ‘run and hide’.
And there it was.
Robin swung her door open. and cried downstairs, “Coming, Daddy!”
She saw that he was not as nipped and tucked as he usually was. Daddy looked stressed. Maybe Robin didn’t pick the best day to play office. Maybe she should have asked first. Daddy owned an Accounting Firm and sometimes, Robin liked to dress-up like a big girl and go work at Daddy’s office.
He planned them them, on slow days. He fucked her in his office. The first time, he just slid her thongs to the side. Those panties have never been washed. The smell of them make him hard. He put her on her knees under his desk. They teased, nipped, and grinned, up until her mouth was prime for the rutting.
Daddy was having an issue with one of his auditors, and a client that called him directly. The client called every five minutes and with problems his auditor had the responsibility of solving. Five minutes after he finished wrestling his day-long problem, he looked out of his office to see Robin talking on one of the company phones. No permission.
Daddy explained to her that she walked right out of the office and was gone. She never came into his private office to tell him that she was there. She had a phone that pinged and beeped, but when Daddy needed her, he fell into the company of all those ridiculous alerts.
“Now go get that goddamn phone,” He was furious.
She followed the dings and the pings until she found her phone buried in her bed. He met her upstairs in her room. She offered the sing-song device to him. He took in the messy sight and moved past the pouting girl. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and made himself comfortable. *Ping*
“Leave the phone beside me. I want you…. here.” He pulled her down and over his lap. She cried out, but knew the punishment was coming.
“I already know it’s going to hurt! How many? *PING*How many, Daddy?” Robin was already crying about the spanking she was afraid of getting.”
“I’ll stop once that phone goes silent.”