Go Ahead and Cry, Little Girl

I nearly collapsed onto my desk chair as the last student scurried out the door. I had been keeping myself together since waking in bed to find a cold and empty spot beside me. He had left a note: I was called in, at work. Should be back before you. Behave, my sweet love. I always enjoyed waking to notes from my husband though the sight of him would always be better than that of a piece of dead tree.

I took a deep breath. I was becoming unsettled, itchy. When I opened my eyes that morning I knew I needed some kneeling time with him, but he was gone, pulled away by his work. Most days it was alright. I didn't need to be dominated each and every day... Today was not one of those days.

I heard a ding from my phone and looked down to see the display name: Daddy. I smiled, grabbed the phone from my desk which was riddled with paper, and read the message.

Daddy: At a domestic violence case rn. Might be a little late.

My heart shattered. All my defenses, all my walls, everything that protected me from the emotions buried deep within; it all came rushing out. But I couldn't react. Not at school where my students and co-workers still walked.

Me: Okay, Daddy. Stay safe.

I clutched my phone as I awaited a response... none of which came. I'm not sure why I was expecting one because when he was on the job he rarely ever contacted me. I knew that if I needed something, if there was an emergency, he'd come running. This wasn't an emergency though. That itch, that uncomfortable feeling, could be ignored. Hopefully.

Daddy still wasn't home. He had texted an hour after I settled in that the case got out of control (meaning guns had been drawn, and fired). He needed to do interviews from the witness' and then paperwork which apparently couldn't wait.

So, I waited.

I was sitting on our made bed when the urge began. An urge that now was foreign. I wrapped my arms around me and buried my face into my knees. No matter how much this urge grew, I could not act.

I gasped upon feeling a shoot of pain in my arm. Looking down, I realized I had started to claw at the offending limb. I nearly sobbed at the evidence for my lack of control.

I wasn't safe. And Daddy wasn't here to save me this time.

The blade had ended up in my hand not even a few minutes later. I was still as I examined the sharp piece of metal that I lightly traced across my barren arm, past scars of which stared up at me, begging for a new friend.

I knew Daddy would be home any minute now. I knew that he would be ruined if he saw what threatened his sweet love.

I glanced at the notebook laying on his nightstand which kept everything detailing our relationship. Rules were on the first page. As I pressed the blade to my wrist, I remembered one in particular: The only one to harm you is me. Not even yourself.

I scowled at the reminder yet the blade remained, which dug deeper into my skin. I wouldn't stop now. Once I saw the first hint of the dark red which lived inside of me, I was gone to my inclinations.

I let my feet fall to the floor and leaned forward as the first hit of serotonin collided with me. I gasped. I had been craving a relief for my discomfort all day, and finally-

"Baby."

I jolted and looked up to the now opened door to our bedroom where he stood, eyes widened and panicked. I couldn't say anything. No words could meet my tongue. Daddy was here. And I had broken a rule. I had relapsed to an urge we both thought was gone.

"Okay, honey," Daddy said, calmly.

My eyes fluttered at his voice. He had the best voice whether that be his Dom voice, his Daddy voice, his-

He started walking slowly to me as if he were worried I would do something rash. I didn't blame him for a semi-colon tattoo nestled between my right ear and hairline.

"Can you please give Daddy the blade?" he asked before he kneeled in front of me.

I looked down then to see the blade was still embedded in my now ruined skin.

I didn't say anything as I pulled my temporary savior from its home, and handed it to my Daddy's awaiting hands.

He heaved a sigh of relief as he tucked the object into one of his plethora of pockets on his uniform.

I opened my mouth to say what... I didn't know, but words failed me. I wanted to speak: to tell him I was sorry, to ask for a punishment of which I deserved, to beg just to be in his arms and be his baby girl for a little while. But I couldn't speak.

Daddy tilted his head, understanding my dilemma. Daddy knew me more than anyone. He knew what I wanted, what I needed.

"Here's what we're going to do," he began.

A plan. I liked plans. I nodded.

"We're going to go to the bathroom and take a nice hot shower. Then, I'm going to bandage your arm," he explained.

I held back a flinch. Showering after fresh cuts was never a nice feeling. It hurt more than Daddy's crop, but I'd never tell him that.

"What do you need from me?" he asked then, unsurprisingly.

I knew I needed punishment, pain. I needed to have my skin bruised and welted, clear evidence of my transgression. But I also needed my Daddy.

I signed: Me. Hurt. Please. More.

Daddy and I had both learned American Sign Language after the first few bouts of my recurring mutism. It worked well in situations such as these.

Daddy nodded. He both signed and said "Thank you" before he lifted me into his arms and onto his hip. Immediately, I buried my face into his neck and breathed in the smell of Daddy's sweat and aftershave.

"I'm gonna set you down, my love. You need to stand though so we can undress," he whispered into my hair before he placed a gentle kiss on my head.

I was slid down and carefully set on my feet.

I didn't move as Daddy grabbed the end of my now bloodied blouse and pulled upwards. I raised my arms to the sky as he lifted the blouse over my head and then settled it gently on the counter. He then grabbed my skirt, unzipping from the back, and lowered it to the ground where I easily stepped out. That too was placed on the counter.

I watched then as Daddy stripped from his uniform. Because of the lack of weapons on his body, he must have placed them in the safe before finding me and my failure. When he began sliding his briefs down his muscled legs, I couldn't help but look at the perfect specimen that laid there. His cock, just as much mine as his, hadn't even hardened with me standing in nothing but my matching lace undergarments. Insecurity began to race through me.

"Sweetheart, look at me."

I quickly averted my gaze and looked at my Daddy.

"I'm only soft because you're my focus right now. My pleasure is the last thing that's important," he reassured.

I smiled. Daddy always knew what to say.

He stepped forward and unclasped my bra. He guided it down my arms before placing it on our discarded clothing. My breasts remained firm even with the loss of material. He then hooked his fingers at the side of my panties and slid them down my legs.

After we were both naked, Daddy walked to the shower and turned the nozzle inward causing steamy water to pour from the shower head.

As we showered, Daddy took special care of my arm. He made sure that it was cleaned before using his body to protect the sensitive limb from the spray. He washed my hair and rinsed, then he did the same to himself. He washed my body with dark pink loofah, making sure to wash areas of my body he knew me to be most self conscious about.

When we stepped out, he enveloped me into a large towel before guiding me to sit on the closed toilet lid.

I watched as he inspected the five cuts which I had made; I fought down the urge of disappointment at the small number. He nodded to himself before spreading antibacterial cream on the wounds before he then wrapped gauze.

Once we were back in our bedroom, in a fresh pair of fresh undergarments for the both of us, Daddy walked over to the chair in the corner of our bedroom. I perked up as he relaxed into the leather, lounging.

I didn't move from my spot in the middle of the room. I stood and stared at Daddy; he sat and stared at me. The only sound was the harsh wind against the house. Until Daddy speaked.

"Kneel."

I nearly tripped as I hurried to his feet. I made sure I was in the proper kneeling position with my knees slightly bent and my arms behind my back before I stilled, preparing.

"Do you know your rules?" he asked.

I nodded once.

"Do you know the rule which you've broken?" he asked.

I nodded again. I couldn't help the shame that began.

Daddy spread his legs, revealing the large bulge beneath his briefs.

My mouth began to water at the sight.

"You knew the rule, yet you broke the rule anyway," he says. "A punishment is in order, yes?"

I nodded once, twice.

Daddy grinned. "I'm going to give you forty spanks with the holed paddle-"

I sneered. I didn't like the paddle. I was hoping for the crop.

Daddy seemed delighted by my reaction though. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you not like that? You are aware that the riding crop is only for good girls who listen to their rules, right? Because surely you aren't expecting such a privilege after being naughty."

I wanted to whine, to plead, to beg for the bite of the crop, but words were not there, and my tongue remained still.

"Go get the paddle," Daddy demanded.

I crawled over to our chest a few feet away and opened it, revealing all of our toys. I brushed my hand against the crop and sighed before grabbing the requested paddle. I closed the chest again, crawled back to Daddy, kneeled, and then presented the object for my punishment.

Daddy took it with a smile across his face. "I want you on hands-and-knees on the bed. Now."

I ran to our bed and threw myself on it, quickly getting into the position of which I was told. Silence met it.

After a few silent seconds, I heard him rising from the chair. I felt as he walked closer to me, paddle in hand. I could easily imagine the glee on his face to have me under his mercy, ready to punish me. I couldn't help but clench my thighs together at the sight.

Daddy swatted my rear. "I see you clenching that pussy. Do it again and I'll get the machine."

I yelped: first at the sting by his hand and then at the mention of the machine. It filled both of my holes at the same time and was controlled by a remote. One time, I was left to the machine for an hour as I writhed and cried out. It was punishment for being caught touching myself without permission.

"What's your color?" he asked, more gently than his previous tone.

I smiled. I had the best Daddy. Green, I signed. I then adjusted my position to make it easier for Daddy to punish me, and to make it more painful.

I had no time to catch a breath before the paddle was upon me.

"Gonna take this like a good bitch," Daddy sneered, paddling me again.

I gasped, and whined, and moaned. The more Daddy paddled me, the more sensitive I became to the pain. His words as the pain shot through my body only made me more aware and vulnerable to the punishment.

"Such a slut. I can see your pussy dripping through your panties." Thwack!

"You don't hurt yourself." Thwack! "You don't hurt what belongs to me." Thwack! "Only I get to abuse this fair skin." Thwack!

"This ass is going to be so sore by the time I fuck it." Thwack! "But you'll like that, won't you?" Thwack!

As the paddle landed and Daddy's words continued to pour out and envelope me, I began to feel my body loosen. And with that,

"Daddy!" I screamed. "I can't, please."

Daddy laughed above me as he continued. "You can. Such a pain slut, you'll probably want more."

Tears were falling from my face as sobs arose. I was under the power and influence of my Daddy. Everything I did was because he allowed it. Nothing I did was without his permission, his approval. I was his baby girl, his slut, his cocksleeve. Anything Daddy wanted me to be, I was.

I was so engulfed with the pain, the words, my thoughts, I didn't notice when the paddle ceased. I continued to sob and call out for my Daddy.

And then I felt my panties being ripped from my body and a warm presence at my entrance which caused me to turn as tears slipped past my face. Daddy held his cock in his hand and was holding it against my farthest hole.

My eyes widened. "Daddy... No, no, you can't!" I attempted to move away but was only pulled back to my original position with a slap to my pussy as payment.

"I'm going to fuck this hole, and you're going to take it like the whore you are," he said.

I always enjoyed anal. I didn't need much prep to take a cock but it was still a struggle when no lube or fingering was involved. I enjoyed the intense pain, the feeling that I was being ripped apart. But Daddy doesn't let me play with that particular hole often, probably because he knows it's to give myself pain.

I grunted as the tip entered.

He groaned. "So tight for me, lovely."

I wasn't given a chance to speak before he entered deeper inside of me which caused me to scream. I collapsed onto the bed, but Daddy still held my hips up as he slowly sank deeper into my hole.

"Please," I sobbed. "It hurts. I can't take it all." My face drenched with tears as I cried and begged.

Daddy didn't listen to me though. He grabbed both of my hips, sunk his nails into my flesh, and then slammed his entire length into me.

The pain was both overpowering and arousing. I felt as my pussy gaped, wanting the same attention.

Daddy laughed. "You're enjoying this?!" He scratched his nails against my sore behind as he continued to thrust aggressively inside of me. "Gonna be my hole until I come. Gonna take everything I give you."

I wanted so badly to play with my clit, to help the orgasm that was ready to arise. I needed the release. My hand inched farther down my body but then a hand pushed me down on the bed, trapping my body between the mattress and my husband.

I cried out at the new position. "Daddy," I whined as I attempted to kick out.

He growled. "Shut up, whore."

The pleasure and pain were becoming too much. I knew that I needed to come. I was so close. I told Daddy as much.

He laughed, but I felt his movement become more frantic and rougher. Daddy was about to come.

I moaned at the thought of being filled with his seed. "Fill me up," I begged. "I need it, please."

Daddy scoffed before releasing a groan. "You want my come, slut? You want to be dripping?"

I nodded against the comforter, digging my nails into the cold surface. "Please, please, please-"

Daddy grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me upwards so that I was now kneeling. He reached his hand forward and began rubbing my clit as his movements became more erratic.

"Gonna come with me. Want that hole clenching," he murmured.

I gasped as I felt the pleasure of the stimulation to my clit. I was going to come. I was so close. Daddy was rubbing exactly how I liked it, and the large cock fucking into me was pushing me further to the edge. Daddy, all knowing, reached the hand that wasn't rubbing my clit to my nipples.

"Daddy," I moaned out.

He gently traced my nipple before flicking the small bud.

It all happened quickly then: I had shaken violently during my orgasm, and my Daddy pushed me back down onto the bed to bury his cum into my body. We both were frantic and jolting with the intensity of it.

A few seconds later, after our breaths catched, Daddy stood up and headed to the mini fridge in our bedroom. It was time for aftercare.

"We're going back to using the cane every day, ten on each cheek," Daddy murmured.

We were both cleaned up now and snuggling under the sheets. I was too hot for the comforter so Daddy pushed it to the floor. He had given me water, a protein bar, and tons of praise and cuddles, plus cream for my bottom.

I buried my face deeper into his neck and nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me it was one of those days?" he asked, stroking my hair.

I shaked my head. "Didn't wanna b'ther you," I slurred.

Daddy sighed. "Never. Honey, you could have gotten seriously hurt."

I kissed his neck. "Needed it. Couldn't... Daddy, I-" I groaned as I was unable to use my words.

Daddy chuckled and kissed my forehead. "My baby girl feeling little?"

I nodded. "Hurt myself. Hurt Daddy. Sorry," I whispered.

"Oh, sweetheart. Daddy's got you. Let's just sleep right now. We'll start the day tomorrow with a nice caning and then you can be my baby all day."

I smiled and attached myself more tightly onto Daddy.

"T'ank you," I murmured, closing my eyes. "Bes' Daddy eve'."

"Only yours, baby girl," Daddy whispered. "Only yours."