His Little Girl Pt. 02

He insisted that I sit at the table wrapped in a fuzzy blanket while he fixed dinner. He made delicious grilled chicken, which he insisted on cutting into small pieces for me, and soup, with goldfish crackers for me instead of saltines. He'd also turned down my request for coffee, insisting "Little girls shouldn't drink that, sweetie -- you'll be up all night." Part of me felt a little silly, but he seemed so happy when I said "Yes, Daddy" and he kissed the top of my head and told me to be good, so I deferred to his decision.

After dinner he made popcorn and cuddled up with me on the couch, pulling me onto his lap and wrapping the blanket around us both. I pleaded and he grudgingly agreed to watch The Princess Bride with me for the millionth time, but he laughed right along with me at all the best parts and held me tight when they killed Wesley even though I know what's coming next and that he'll be fine.

I must have been more tired than I thought because I dozed off in his arms, listening to the slow rhythm of his heartbeat. I woke abruptly near the end of the movie, squirming with arousal. His arms still held me close, but one hand had dipped into my panties, cupping and stroking my pussy so gently that I hadn't noticed it in my sleep, though I found myself dripping around his fingers as his lips pressed a sweet string of kisses along my neck.

"Daddy?" I asked hesitantly.

"Shhh, babygirl" he soothed. "Just let me make my girl feel good tonight."

I whimpered but didn't deny him. Pleasure made my thighs clench around his hand and he groaned in my ear. "Mmmm, sweetheart, your little pussy is so hot and wet for me. Can you feel how hard it makes me when you gush all over my fingers like that?"

I was suddenly aware of the press of his cock under my ass, rubbing up against me through the thin fabric of my panties. I turned my head and looked up at him with wide eyes and whispered, "Oh yes, Daddy. It feels so big and hard."

He groaned again. "Take my cock out of my pants, baby." I reached down and followed his fingers, using the dripping wetness of my pussy to trace slickly over the head of his cock.

His groan was a little more desperate. "Oh baby," he sighed as I pulled my panties to the side, letting my slick wet lips rub up against his hardness. "You're killing me. But I don't think you can take Daddy's cock in your little pussy, sweetheart. You're so tight and I don't want to hurt you."

It was my turn to moan, then, because the sliding motion of his cock against my pussy was driving me crazy. I rocked my hips, trying to find the right angle that would urge the head of him inside me, but his hand gripped my hip and held me still.

"No, he said sternly. "You take what I give you, babygirl."

"Daddy," I whimpered, biting my lower lip. "Please...."

"Please what, sugar? Tell Daddy what you need."

I moaned again as the head of his cock bumped my clit, trying to press against his fingers and beg for more of his touch. "Please," I said in a small, almost shy voice. "Please, Daddy, I need you..."

"How do you need me, little girl? Tell me. I need to hear you say it."

"Inside me," I squeaked, blushing. "I need your cock inside me, Daddy."

"Inside you where?" he asked, a teasing lilt behind his voice. "In your pretty little mouth, baby?"

"No, Daddy." I shook my head, making my braids dance around my face. "I need you in my pussy." I turned around more, tipping my head back as his mouth covered mine in a hungry, drugging kiss. "I need you to fuck your little girl, Daddy."

"Yessss," he growled in my ear, arching his hips up to push inside me slowly, a fraction of an inch at a time. I moaned and his hands gripped my hips, rocking me gently on his cock. "Just like this, baby. Slow. Ride me."

I arched my back to grind against him, the position making him feel impossibly huge inside me, stretching me, making me ache. I whimpered and squirmed, trying to find some ease, so that I could fuck him better, but his implacable hands kept me in place.

"Is it too much, little girl?" he whispered in my ear, one hand drifting up to cup and stroke my breast, pinching my nipple in his long, strong fingertips. My whimper became a strangled moan as his fingers tightened on my nipple painfully, making my pussy ripple and clench around his cock.

"That's it, sweetheart," he urged. "Take it for me."

I gasped when his other hand slid from my hip to the place where our bodies joined, stroking around my dripping pussy and clit in feather-light touches until I thought I'd go out of my mind. He kept up the same insanely slow pace, grinding me relentlessly toward orgasm, not letting me move faster or squirm away.

"Please," I mewled, my voice small and desperate.

"Tell me what you want, baby." His voice was warm and dark in my ear. "Use your big-girl words and tell Daddy what you need."

Self-conscious, I squirmed. And blushed when he chuckled softly in my ear. "Tell me," he demanded.

"Please," I gasped as his fingers pinched my nipple and clit at the same moment, ratcheting me closer and closer to the looming orgasm I felt building inside.

"Please what?" he growled in my ear, the pinch becoming painful.

"Please, Daddy," I moaned, the words tumbling from my lips, desperately. "Please let your little girl come for you. Please? Please can I come?"

"Not until I say so, sugar. You're a very good girl for asking, but you have to wait until Daddy says you may." His fingers stroked me more insistently, and without the guidance of his hands on my hips, my grinding on him became a little faster, more desperate. "So good," he hissed in my ear, making me throb around his cock. "Such a good, sweet girl. You make Daddy want to fuck you so badly when you squeeze me like that, baby."

I panted for breath, dizzy with impending orgasm. "Daddy," I moaned brokenly, shaking with the effort of holding myself back for him. "Please, Daddy, please." I looked back at him over my shoulder. "

"Fuck," he growled, and his hand left my breast, looping through my arms and pulling them behind my back, holding me by my elbows. He forced my back into a deeper arch, so that I had to look up at him and he arched his hips up and fucked me mercilessly, pounding me harder and deeper than before. I shuddered, panting desperately when his fingers strummed over my clit driving me headlong into the orgasm I'd been trying to hold back.

"Come," he demanded. "Come all over my cock, baby." My scream turned into

"Daddy!" as I came, my pussy gushing around him as he pounded up into me, my legs shaking as my body undulated. His groan as he filled my pussy with hot spurts of cum was music to my ears, the sweet pulse of his orgasm prolonging my own.

I rocked against him slower now, shuddering helplessly, and the arm that had been restraining mine released me, snaking around my torso to hold me close as his cock softened inside me. "I love it when you come like that," he whispered in my ear. "So sweet and hot and wild, babygirl." He pulled free of my body and tugged my panties back in place, patting my pussy once, firmly.

I turned in his arms and snuggled up against his chest, looping my arms around his neck. "Thank you, Daddy," I murmured sleepily.

Then he said the words I'd been dreading. "We still have to talk about your punishment, sweetheart."

"Punishment?" I asked, hearing the quaver in my voice.

"Yes," he said firmly, holding me so that I had to look up at him. "You had a horrible day, from the sounds of it, but we've talked about things you should do when real life and the rules I've set for you come into conflict, haven't we?"

Hesitantly, I nodded.

"I can't hear you."

"Yes, Mas-- Daddy."

"Did you do any of those things we've talked about? Did you call me and tell me you were running late? Did you ask me to pick you up because it was raining and you had bags to carry from the Metro?"

I shook my head sadly, unable to meet his eyes.

"Look at me," he demanded. "I need to hear the words, sweetheart. Did you?"

"No, Daddy," I whispered, feeling my eyes begin to well with tears.

"Why not?" he asked softly.

Anxiety knotted my stomach, made the words choke and die on my lips. All I could do was shake my head, feeling the tears drip silently.

"That's not an answer," he said firmly. "I need to understand, pet. Why won't you tell me when things are going wrong? Why won't you let me help you?" There was a pleading note in his voice that completely shattered me and I stifled a sob.

"I'm sorry," I told his chest, my voice muffled against his skin. "I didn't want to bother you."

"Bother me?" he said incredulously. "Bother me? Baby...I need you to bother me. I need to take care of my girl. I need to know that you're running late because your boss is an asshole and not because you're in an accident or lost or in trouble. I need to help, sweetheart, and it kills me when you don't let me."

"I don't want to be any trouble," I sniffled. "And I always seem to end up messing up our plans."

"Because you keep trying to control them," he said seriously. "What would have happened if you'd called me from the office and told me you were running late?"

"I might have interrupted you in a meeting or something important," I offered inadequately.

"You might," he agreed. "Or you might have interrupted nothing other than a conference call I wanted to get off of, anyway. What do you think is more important to me: a meeting with a client that I have hundreds of a year, or my girl, who I adore, who makes me happy, who needs me? What the fuck kind of choice is that?

"If I called you, even if you were in a meeting with the biggest client you had, would you excuse yourself and take the call? I know you would, because you have. If I said I needed you, right then and there, would you cancel all your plans and drop everything to be when and where I needed you? Of course you would. You have. So why the fuck would you think I wouldn't do the same thing for you?"

There was genuine hurt in his voice and it gutted me.

"This is it," he said seriously. "I'm tired of this conversation, pet. You trust me enough to let me tie you up and blindfold you and beat you bloody, but you can't trust me enough to give me the common courtesy of a phone call when you're running late. You trust me to fuck you in the ass and choke you and make you beg for my cock in your hot little mouth...but you can't trust me to drive 3 miles and pick you up because it's raining. You can trust me for sex, for spankings, but not for all the things that make this relationship so much *more* than that. You won't trust me to love you, and I can't keep loving you and watching you break yourself trying to keep me out."

He said he loved me.

I looked up at him with teary eyes and didn't care. I'm sure my face was splotchy and my nose was sniffly, but it didn't matter. I loved him so much it hurt, and I could feel it exploding in my chest like a supernova. I must have said it aloud because he looked at me, puzzled, so I repeated it, wondrously, like someone had told me the secret to the universe.

"You said you love me."

"Of course," he said automatically, as if it was a fact I should already know

"You never said you loved me." I was shaking with the power of his words and he looked so confused it should have been funny, but it wasn't.

"Of course I have," he started, but I interrupted.

"No," I said softly. "Never." I reached out and took his hands in mine. "I told you I loved you the third weekend we spent together, do you remember? You made me come so many times I thought I would pass out and then hit me with the belt, and one strike caught me wrong and I bled and you were so apologetic and I said it was okay, because I loved you and I knew you would never hurt me and you kissed me and held me and but you never, ever said it.

And I waited. I tried to be so good. I want to be your perfect girl and I knew, just knew that if I was good, you'd love me. You would. But I kept messing up. Kept not being good enough. And you never said it, so I knew. And I kept trying harder and harder --"

"Stop," he interjected. "Sweetheart, it wasn't like that--"

"It *was*," I insisted, swiping away my own tears impatiently. "I know I'm not perfect. I'm not ever going to be perfect. I just wanted to be good enough for you to love me."

"Stop," he demanded again, taking my face in his hands. "Stop, baby. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. You are. You are good enough -- more than good enough. I didn't realize I hadn't said the words, because I've thought them a million times. I love you, babygirl. You are mine, my pet, my darling little fucktoy, my sweetest little girl. You are all the things I could possibly want."

He took my face in his hands and leaned his forehead against mine. "I love you, sweetheart. Never, ever, doubt it."

I kissed him, the salt of my tears on his lips, and clung to him like a vine "I love you, too," I whispered raggedly. "Master. Daddy. I love you so much." I sniffled and took a shaky breath. "And I'm sorry. I'm really and truly sorry. I should have told you how I felt. I should have called you earlier."

I pulled back slightly and looked up at him solemnly. "It won't happen again, Master. I promise."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. I could tell from the frown line between them that he was thinking hard. Finally, he opened them, and nodded decisively. "I accept your apology." I sighed and released the breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

"But I'm still going to punish you," he said. "We need to set things right between us, and start off on the right foot, together, this time. Do you agree?"

I nodded. "Yes, Master....uhm...Daddy."

A smile flashed across his mouth, making something low in my body tighten and melt. "I think we'll stick with Daddy tonight, sweetheart." I blushed and he kissed the tip of my nose, then set me on my feet.

"You've been a very naughty little girl today, sweetheart. Little girls don't make decisions. That's Daddy's job. Yours is to do what I tell you, when I tell you to do it."

He looked at me expectantly.

"Yes, Daddy," I whispered to the floor.

"Look at me," he insisted, and I glanced up warily, trying to stand still and not fidget.

"Go upstairs and get ready for bed, little girl. Fetch the hairbrush, the lube, and the pretty sparkly plug from the toybox. Put them on my nightstand and bend over the bed and wait for me. Think hard about your behavior today. I'm going to clean up the kitchen and I will be up in 15 minutes. Can you be ready for me by then?"

"Yes, Daddy." I nodded without hesitation. "Do you want me to leave my nightie on?"

He shook his head. "Just the panties, little girl." He stood up and guided me to the stairs, giving me a quick swat on the backside to send me on my way. "Fifteen minutes," he called from the foot of the stairs as I hurried into the bedroom. "Be ready."