His Little Girl Pt. 03

I mentally counted down the minutes as I scurried around collecting the items he requested: the spanking hairbrush with its heavy wooden handle and prickly bristles, the anal plug with the sparkly blue jewel in the base, and the lubricant for it. I also left him a glass of water and a small hand-towel, in case he wanted either one, and arranged everything on his nightstand. I took a moment to use the bathroom, wash my face, and re-fix my braids. I stripped off the babydoll nightie and turned the lights down low, bending over the edge of the bed with my legs spread wide, my face in the blankets and my arms stretched out overhead, my ruffled panties on display for him.

I stayed there, my mind whirling, thinking about how awful I'd felt earlier and how he made it seem so easy, just to pick up the phone and call him and let him take care of everything. I didn't want to be a burden on him, another thing on the already long list of things he had to deal with and take care of every day, but the realization was slowly sinking in that by not telling him when things were going wrong, I was making them worse instead of better by trying to fix things myself. I lay there, listening to the sound of his footsteps on the stairs, the intake of his breath as he stood in the doorway, watching me. I willed my legs not to tremble, pressing my cheek against his comforter and breathing in the scent of him to reassure me and bolster my courage. I'd earned this, and I could take it -- for him.

He stalked around the bed slowly, one hand stroking down over my back. I shivered at the delicate brush of his fingers, but forced myself to be still. He caressed the curves of my ass, rubbing over the ruffled panties and stroking warmth into my bare skin. He knelt on the floor beside me, tugging my panties down around my knees with excruciating slowness. Inch by inch, he bared me, his breath hot against my skin, but not touching me with anything other than the heated intent of his gaze.

He was quiet for so long that worry pooled in my stomach, but he broke the silence with a low groan as he dragged his fingers over my skin, fingertips digging in and pulling the cheeks of my ass apart, baring me completely to his relentless inspection. "Oh, babygirl," he whispered almost reverently. "You are so fucking sexy when you drip for me like this."

He dipped his fingers into the wetness of my pussy, which was, to my embarrassment, already soaking wet for him, coating his fingers and making my inner thighs glisten. He rubbed my own wetness over the tight rosette of my asshole, pressing into me as a soft moan slipped from my lips.

"So tight, baby. Relax for me. Breathe for me. Slow. In..." he sucked in an audible breath, held it, and then released it slowly. "...And out. Good. Just like that."

I took slow, deliberate yoga breaths, willing myself not to tense up the next time something cool and slick pressed into my ass. He'd lubed the plug up generously, but my ass yielded slowly, reluctantly to the thick intrusion of the plug. I gasped when it slipped all the way inside me, making me feel teasingly full and awaking a dark hunger in the pit of my stomach.

He toyed with me for a while, tugging the plug outward until it almost popped free, making me feel the burn as it stretched my ass open, and then letting it sink slowly back inside me. My moans became needy little whimpers and finally he seated the plug deep inside me and gave it a firm little tap with his fingers, making the smack radiate up through my core. He tugged my panties back into place and sat on the edge of the bed. I straightened and he patted his thigh, giving me a warning look when I bit my lip hesitantly.

"Over my lap like a good little girl," he insisted firmly. "If I have to drag you over my knee, it's going to hurt a lot worse, sweetheart. " Obediently, I draped myself over his legs, my hands on the floor, my legs dangling helplessly. My ass was right above his knees, ruffles upturned, waiting.

He didn't make me wait long, spanking me on first one cheek, then the other. He started off slowly, warming me up with his hands until I felt the skin of my ass flushing thoroughly pink. Each smack started to sting worse and worse, until I was squirming desperately, pressing my lips together and trying not to cry out.

One particularly hard smack made me gasp, and then cover my mouth with my hand as if I could physically hold in my cries of pain. He didn't let up, spanking me harder even though I'm sure his hand must have been burning. The cheeks of my ass felt like they were on fire. Inadvertently, I reached back, not to stop him, but reflexively in response to the continuous rain of blows on my bottom and upper thighs. He didn't give me a warning or tell me to move my hand; he simply took my wrist and twisted the offending hand behind my back, making me dangle precariously over his knees, now unsupported by my hands.

The urge to cry out "yellow" clogged my throat. It hurt so bad. Was it too much? I could take more, for him. I *would* take it, and be a good girl. But each smack on my ass burned and stung painfully. I bit my lip hard. I didn't think I could take much more and I was afraid I was going to fall if the next well-placed spank made me squirm too much. I'd just parted my lips to speak up when he stopped. He gave me a moment to catch my breath, his hands rubbing lightly over my inflamed skin, judging the effects of his punishment. I shuddered.

"You were a willful girl earlier today." His voice was deceptively soft and calm. "You put what you wanted to do over what I've told you I want you to do. You deliberately chose your wants over mine. You put *my* little girl at risk because of your choices."

Unshed tears suddenly clogged my throat. His fingers continued to caress my bottom, working under my panties to find the sparkly jewel of the plug and tap relentlessly against it, distracting me from the burning pain of the spanking. I wiggled, trying to part my legs a little to give him better access, and he spanked me once, sharply.

"Be still!" he demanded, his other hand clamping down over my arm, holding it firmly behind my back, which held me still over his knees. "Willful girls who disobey their daddies deserve to be punished, don't you agree, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Daddy," I whispered.

"I can't hear you," he insisted, and spanked me again with his hand, once, twice, making me cry out.

"Yes, Daddy!" My voice broke a little on a strangled sob.

"That's better," he said, rubbing the spot where he spanked soothingly. "It's okay to cry, sugar. Crying gets out all those things that you bottle up." He reached over my prone body and took the wooden hairbrush from the nightstand. He stroked the cool wood against my skin and I shuddered, sniffling. "Let it go for me," he murmured. "Give it up and let go for Daddy."

I bit my lip and stifled a sob. The cool wood of the hairbrush slid away from my heated skin.

"Are you going to defy me anymore, little girl?" he asked, bringing the flat back of the brush down against my right ass cheek with a sharp crack.

"No, Daddy," I whimpered.

"Are you going to do what you want instead of what Daddy wants you to do?"

Another crack of the brush, this time against my left cheek. Tears welled up behind my tightly closed eyelids.

"No, Daddy."

"Are you going to do what Daddy wants?"

"Yes, Daddy." My voice was watery and small.

"Whatever I want, when I want it, how I want it. Isn't that right, babygirl?"

"Yes, Daddy," I agreed with a gasp. He was finding his rhythm now, each question bringing another smack from the brush and fresh tears dripping down my cheeks. I felt the weight of his concern, his disappointment, but most of all, I felt his care in the way he held me still, securing me over his knees, soothing me between spanks of that wicked little brush.

My mind was fuzzy, from the pain of the spanking as well as the rhythmic question-and-response. He lulled me in to the pattern he set, not giving me time to think about what he was asking, but giving me just enough time to say "Yes, Daddy" or "No, Daddy" before he asked the next question, demanded the next response, and pushed me deeper and deeper into that lovely submissive place where nothing matters except his words, his hands, and the pleasure of yielding to whatever he wants.

I lost awareness of time, of exactly when he pulled my ruffled panties down my legs and tossed them off to the side, or when the questions stopped and there was only the slapping of the wooden brush against my skin and the rough sobs ripping from my throat. Eventually, his blows slowed and my sobs eased, until I was crying softly, sniffling as he dreamily stroked the inflamed skin of my ass and thighs. He made soft soothing sounds, releasing the arm he held behind my back and stroking my wild and tangled hair.

"Kneel for me," he said very softly, and guided me so that I slid off his lap and onto my knees on the floor at his feet. Sitting on my ass stung mightily, but I winced and said nothing, eyes downcast, the weight of his disappointment like a heavy blanket on my shoulders. He reached down and cupped my chin, tipping my tear-streaked face up to meet his intent gaze.

Once, I would have tried to turn away, embarrassed because I knew I looked like a mess. Not the perfect, pulled-together girl I thought he wanted. Now, I was too washed out from crying to think of resisting him, too exhausted to think or second-guess myself. I looked up at him slowly, blinking back the remnants of tears.

"I'm sorry," I said softly, but clearly. "I know I disappointed you, Daddy. I really am sorry."

"I know you are," he said simply.

I bit my lip. "I know I keep promising to stop trying to control things and make decisions for myself. I'm grateful that you keep picking up after every mess I make of things. I don't want to keep doing this over and over and over."

"Neither do I," he agreed.

"I need your help." The words spilled out before I could stop them, or overthink them. "I don't know how to stop myself. I want to."

"Babygirl..." he said with a groan.

"I'm sorry," I said as the tears began again, looking up at him desperately. "Please, Daddy...help me?"

He pulled me up so fast I was dizzy from it, crushing me in his arms as he pressed a kiss against my forehead.

"Oh baby," he murmured. "It's forgiven. No more apologies. I'll help you. We'll figure it out, together."

I clung to him desperately, crawling up in his lap and wrapping myself around him, needing his touch so desperately that I didn't think about being too heavy for him to hold me like this or too old and awkward to be acting this way. I simply needed him, and he was there, holding me, cuddling me, letting the last of my tears sob out against his shoulder.

"That's my good girl," he said with a hint of a teasing smile in his voice, his hands stroking lazily over my back. I looked up at him to see his dark eyes glittering with desire and possessiveness. I was suddenly aware of him, painfully hard against me, as if my pleading words awoke something ravenous in him. He saw the realization in my face and his smile widened.

"You see what you do to me when you beg, babygirl? When you cry so pretty for me and then beg me to show you how to be a better girl for me?" He pulled me back on the bed, dragging me down and beneath the weight of his body as he pinned me against the mattress. His hips thrust against mine, grinding himself teasingly against me.

"Your tears make me hard," he whispered against my cheek, drinking the wetness from my skin. "Calling me "Daddy" makes me ache." He rubbed against me again, rougher, hungrier than before. "And god, baby, when you ask me to help you, when you beg for me like that?" He groaned. "That's fucking *kryptonite*."

He leaned down and kissed me so sweetly, so tenderly I thought my heart might break from it. "You are mine, little girl. Mine to punish. Mine to fuck." He punctuated every sentence with a thrust of his hips. "Mine to love."

I pulled his mouth down to mine, eager to taste his words, to drink them in and drown myself in them. He kissed me like he couldn't get enough, like he was starving for me. He knelt between my legs and tugged the t-shirt he'd been wearing off over his head, then unfastened his pants and shoved them down uncaringly, palming his cock as he freed it and stroking himself lazily.

I licked my lips greedily, but he shook his head. "I fucking love your mouth, baby, but not this time. I want to feel your hot little ass against me. Turn over. Face down, ass up."

I blushed as I scrambled to comply, suddenly achingly aware of the glittery plug stretching my ass and how wet and exposed to him I was. My hands fisted in the blankets as I fought the urge to cover myself, to close my legs. I felt open and vulnerable after the punishment, and hungry for his touch, even though he'd already forgiven me. Every word, every touch he gave me was another reassurance, another confirmation that he wanted me, that I was still his good girl.

His large hands stroked over my ass, tracing every welt and mark and bruise before sliding down between my legs to cup my pussy. His fingers parted me easily, found me dripping wet and hot in anticipation. He traced my wetness around the plug, then slowly eased it free and set it aside. I whimpered, feeling my ass clench around nothing, then the cool, slicked feeling of his lubed-up fingers replaced the plug, stretching me just to the burning point of pain. I whimpered, and he groaned, leaning over me to whisper in my ear.

"If you keep making noises like that, babygirl, I'm going to spank you some more, just because it makes my cock throb when you hurt for me."

He withdrew his hand and I could hear the slick sounds of him stroking lube over his cock, picturing him in my mind just as easily as if I could turn around and watch, which I longed to do, as watching him stroke his cock makes me crazy, but I suspected if I lifted my head from the sheets, I'd get another spanking instead of the fucking I so desperately wanted.

He was hard and slick as he pushed inside me, and even with all his careful preparation, it hurt. I whimpered and moaned into the pillow, but he didn't stop (nor did I really want him to). He rocked against my ass, working himself in me with aching slowness, letting me squirm around him as he sank all the way inside me, until the worst of the burning, stretching sensation eased. I felt impossibly full of him, unable to do anything other than moan and rock against him, torn between the pain in my very sore ass and the constant hunger for more of him.

When he first pulled back out, my moan of pain turned into a dark sigh of pleasure. He thrust in again more easily, then pulled back again with tantalizing slowness. The next time when he thrust in, I groaned in unexpected pleasure and felt my ass clench around his cock.

"Fuuuuck," he groaned. "I'm not going to last if you keep doing that, babygirl."

"Please," I whimpered in a strangled voice, not even sure what I was begging for at this point.

"Reach back," he demanded. "Rub your pussy for me, baby. I want to feel you come all over Daddy's cock."

His words made me burn even hotter than the thrusts of his hips against my reddened ass. My eager fingers found my clit, rubbing in hungry little circles as he held my hips tightly and fucked my ass harder. I was a creature of sensation, unable to think or be embarrassed by my wanton behavior. I moved where he pulled me, rubbed where he told me, and felt the intensity of his control igniting my body, tightening me into a coiled spring.

"Please," I whispered automatically when I felt the first stirring of orgasm impending.

"Beg me," he demanded gutturally. "Beg me to let you come while I fuck your ass."

"Please," I said again, a little more frantically. "Please let me cum while you fuck my ass."

"I don't think you really need to come," he said tightly, and I could hear the rigid control in his voice, in the punishing grip of his hands on my hips.

"Please!" I lifted my head just a little and begged. "Please, please, let me come."

He was silent, but his thrusts didn't slow. I started to pull my fingers away from my pussy, not wanting to get too close and risk coming without permission.

"Don't you dare stop," he growled, slapping me sharply on the ass, once, twice, three times. I yelped and squeezed him even tighter with each smack, making him groan. "Fucking beg like you mean it, little girl, or I'm going to pull out and come all over your ass."

"No!" I whined. "Please!"

"Beg!" he insisted.

"Please," I sobbed, almost incoherently, my fingers rubbing frantically on my clit. "Please, Daddy, please...please fuck my ass, fuck my ass hard and make me come for you. Pleeeease....."

"Fuck," he groaned. "You fucking kill me when you beg. Come, babygirl. Come for me."

On the next thrust of his hips, I let go, screaming into the pillow as I came in a wet gush, my ass clenching tightly around his cock as the waves of my orgasm rippled through me.

"Daddy!" I screamed, blinded by the sensation, and his weight crushed me into the bed, his groan of satisfaction growled in my ear. I felt him spurting hotly inside me and groaned along with him, grinding my sore ass back against him, milking every drop of come from his cock.

I smiled as I felt him shudder against my back, his strong arms closing tightly around me as we lay there, limp and replete. His lips pressed against my shoulder in a brief kiss before he nuzzled affectionately at my neck.

"Mmmm," he said, his sigh of satisfaction rumbling against my skin, his hands tracing softly, restlessly over my body, cupping my breasts and tugging me back tightly against him. "Every inch of this sexy body belongs to me, babygirl."

"Yes, Daddy," I murmured in exhausted bliss. He held me, stroking my hair and whispering soft, soothing praise against my skin. I shivered as I felt him gently ease his cock from my ass, whimpering at the loss of the warmth of his body against mine.

"Shhh," he said, leaving me limp, facedown on the bed as he stood. "I'm going to clean up. I'll be right back for you, baby. Stay here and relax for me, okay?" I nodded my agreement, drowsy with exhaustion both physical and emotional. He returned with a warm, damp washcloth and a soft towel to clean me up, which he did with a thoroughness that might have embarrassed me if I hadn't felt so fuzzy and limp. I felt something cool being rubbed into the bruises on my ass and thighs, and he chuckled when I squirmed. He finished cleaning up and turned off all the lights, leaving the room dark except for the soft glow of the streetlights outside the bedroom windows.

"Time for bed, babygirl," he announced, pulling back the comforter and tucking me into bed over my sleepy protests, and crawling in behind me and holding me with a sweetness that made me ache. His gentle hands stroked my wild curls away from my face as I cuddled up against him.

"You were such a good little girl for me tonight," he whispered softly. "My best, sweetest, most perfect little girl."

I smiled, eyes closed as he held me, wiggling and whimpering just a little as my freshly spanked ass brushed up against his thighs.

"Be still," he warned me with a sleepy chuckle, "Or I'm going to want to use your hot little ass again sooner rather than later."

My eyes fluttered open and I turned just enough to look up at him and whispered, "Please, Daddy?"

His hand curved over my hip and anchored me tightly against him as he pressed a kiss against my forehead. "Definitely, little girl. Now, go to sleep."