Janine Ch. 1

Roger paused at the mantle and picked up the picture of Susan and Janine. It had been about two months since Susan had left. Not that he was sorry that she was gone, but Roger worried how Janine was taking it. Having her mother take off without a word of explanation was sure to fuck with her psyche sooner or later.

He had met Susan a little over a year ago. In the beginning, things had looked promising. At his insistence, he had her move her things into his place, unaware that when she would show up at the doorstep, her daughter would be in tow. Besides being surprised that Susan had a daughter, he was somewhat taken aback at the differences between them. Susan had been a looker - curvy in all the places a woman should be curvy - and she had known it too. Janine had looked nothing like her mother when he first saw her. She was thin and gawky. Where Susan had been loud and boisterous, Janine had been quiet and subdued. Susan had worn outrageously sexy outfits in bold bright colors. Janine preferred quiet clothes that blended in with the background. Roger figured it was a phase for Janine as she was still a teenager and probably suffering from typical shyness and insecurity most teens live through.

Even before a year had passed, both Susan and Roger had tired of the relationship. Susan's infatuation with authority had been shallow and she quickly veered from any guidance or correction Roger could give her. And although the first few months of having Susan living with him had been filled with sheer sexual compliance, Roger had grown weary of Susan's defiantly insolent side and his continual attempt to control it had become tedious rather than exciting. To make matters worse, Roger found Susan's extracurricular activities of abusing their fidelity and their credit cards had pretty much left him cold.

When she had finally packed a bag and yelled at Roger over her shoulder to keep the brat, he had been neither surprised nor sorry. Sharp tongued, malicious, and dishonest were not the characteristics he valued in a woman. He was better of without her so he didn't complain, even when she left behind Janine.

Not that Janine was a burden. Hardly. He stroked the picture of Janine tenderly. She had filled out in the last year. Although she was still slender, she had gained a few curves. A mere shadow of her mother's, but still nicely formed. And the gawkiness was almost gone, replaced by a quiet grace. She was still reserved, but Roger liked that, having tired of Susan's constant haranguing.

And unlike Susan, Janine had not only done her assigned tasks but did them quietly without question. As the year went by, he found himself more and more drawn to Janine. And he knew that the feeling existed deep within Janine also. He wondered when she would truly be ready for him. When she domes to you, he answered himself silently with a smile.

He had waited until after her 18th birthday to start enforcing the standards of the house. A woman has different responsibilities than a girl. But even with the strictest rules, discipline was not often necessary. Although, he thought as he glanced at his watch, it seemed lately there had been more reprimands needed than normal. He shrugged. No one was perfect. He put the picture back down. He was going to have to replace the mother and daughter picture with one of just Janine.

"Daddy?" Roger turned around to find Janine in the doorway. Her long brown hair was tousled and her voice was breathless. "I'm sorry I'm late!" she flushed. She looked adorable in her cotton shift, her young breasts pressing against the thin material. He suppressed a smile, thankful he had always required the woman of his house to wear dresses. Women should never wear pants.

He tapped his watch.

She looked at him tentatively, "Lisa's mom was late picking us up from the library."

He raised a questioning eyebrow, "You know the rules, Janine," he said softly, "What are they?"

Her eyes searched his and when they found no quarter, she took a deep breath, "One stroke for each minute I'm late," she looked at him and added quietly, "But it wasn't my fault."

Roger wagged a finger at her, "No excuses. You know better than that, don't you?"

Janine nodded her head slowly. Yes, she did. He glanced at his watch again.

"Eighteen minutes late. Two more minutes and I would be picking out the paddle. So go put away your books, pick one out and get ready for me. I think down here in the living room tonight," Janine slowly turned around and headed to her room.

Janine dreaded spankings. They hurt and continued hurting long afterwards. She shuddered apprehensively. But there seemed to be no other way. She closed her eyes and took a long deep breath. It was like eating a large plate of garbage to get to the chocolate sundae. Why didn't he touch her the way she wanted to be touched by him? Surely he had to understand how much she loved him? How much she wanted him?

When her mother had left, Janine had had three powerful reactions. Joy. Beyond the fact her mother didn't give a shit for her and vice versa, Janine knew that her mother was the one obstacle standing between her and Daddy. Fear. What if he didn't want her? He really had no obligations to her now that her mother was gone. Especially after she had turned 18. Hope. When he changed the rules, she dared to dream she had a chance, regardless how slim. She knew she could be the woman her mother hadn't been. And she waited, hoping beyond hope. She picked up a paddle and headed back to the living room.

Roger poured himself a glass of red wine and put a Vivaldi cd into the stereo. He closed his eyes as the strains of a full string section poured into the room. A few minutes later, he sensed more than heard Janine pad into the room. He turned.

She stood there, her head hung low causing her hair to cascade over her face and chest. Slowly, she stepped out of her dress. She took pains to fold it and place it on the sofa. Janine couldn't bear to look at him directly, but knew Daddy was watching her intently. She unhooked her bra and slipped if off her shoulders. Embarrassed, she tried to cover her breasts with her hair.

He looked at her for a few minutes. Ah, how high and pert her breasts were. And her pink nipples jutted out, begging for attention.

"Head up, young lady," He took a sip of his wine. She raised her head and implored him silently. A tear had escaped and was traveling down her cheek.

She knew that this is what she wanted – Daddy to look at her. But it was so embarrassing to have her nakedness be the sole source of his attention. It made her feel so helpless and exposed. Her whole body seemed to blush in response to his gaze. She felt the tingling sensation swell halfway between her navel and her pussy. She pulled her panties down and instinctively put her hands in front of her pubic hair.

"Please touch me!" she cried silently. He would, afterwards, she knew. But to have to go through this! She shivered.

"Hands," Roger admonished. She moved them to her sides. Roger's gaze skimmed over her tiny waist, her slightly rounded hips, to her patch of downy brown pubic hair untouched by a razor.

"Yes?" He prompted, not moving. He waited.

"You know this doesn't work unless you sincerely regret breaking the rules."

"Yes, Daddy," she sniffled back the next tear, "I am sorry. I didn't mean to be late," she lied.

"Then you know what you have to do. I can wait all night, if need be." Roger swirled the wine in his glass and took another sip.

Slowly, she lowered to the floor until she was on all fours, "I've broken the rules," She whispered hoarsely, "and I need to be punished." She choked back a cry as she pushed the paddle out in front of her.

Roger set down his glass and retrieved the paddle, "Good girl. On your elbows, that's it. Ass up." He walked to her backside, appreciating the sight of her pussy peeking out between her thighs. He put his foot between her knees forcing them wider and showing her luscious lips to better advantage. How pink they were, splayed out like that. He wondered who was being punished more.

"Now I want to hear you count clearly this time." He got down on his knees, "Are you ready?"

She whimpered and nodded her head. Roger brought back his hand back. His stroke was usually an arced one, so the paddle would almost cup and push her ass up. He swung, and the paddle landed with a stinging SMACK.

"AAAAAAAHH ONE!" She cried and started whimpering. He aimed again.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO TWO!" She sobbed. Enthralled, he landed the next five on her in rapid succession, watching her ass turn bright red as it wobbled each time it met the paddle. By the time he reached 10, she wasn't holding back anymore and was crying loudly.

"ELEVEN! PLEEEEEEEASE, TWELVE!" Her fists were clenched and he knew she was having to fight to keep them in front of her. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! He continued relentlessly.

"EIGHTEEN!" she sobbed, dropping her head to her hands, crying. He sat back on his heels and gently stroked her bruised ass.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy!" she sobbed, "I won't do it again, I swear."

"I believe you," he whispered and pulled her into his arms, "it's okay." He continued to stroke her ass, cupping them so the tips of his fingers brushed her crack. He allowed her to continuing sobbing in his arms. Her body pressed up against him, rubbing slightly each time she gasped for air. He could distinctly feel her hard nipples nudging against him. He waited for her to settle down and after she swallowed a few hiccups, she laid quietly. This is the essence of life, he decided. He tried to ignore his manhood straining against his trousers

"Daddy?" God he loved it when she called him that. Even though she was well beyond the age when girls actually used that phrase he still insisted she use it.

"Yes, baby?" He leaned forward to smell her hair, laden with sweat. God, he loved her scent. He felt her small hand brush his crotch as she pulled back from him. Too much pressure! He cursed to himself. It took him a minute to realize she was fumbling with his zipper. He gasped when she finally got it down and her hand met his cock. Quietly she pulled back as she freed his cock from his pants. She started to lower herself but paused and looked up at him expectantly, "May I, Daddy?"

Shocked, he just nodded mutely. She gave him a hesitant smile and continued down and covered his engorged head with little kisses. Tentatively she stuck out her tongue and swirled it around the bulbous head. Settling in, she moved onto his shaft, first licking it with the tip of her tongue and then using her lips with a light suction to stroke it up one side and down the other. Soon his shaft was slick with her saliva.

"Take it in your mouth, baby!" He groaned as he leaned back on his heels. He gasped when the warmth of her mouth enveloped his head. Roger looked down at her, her sweet little mouth stretched around his cock. It was all he could do to contain himself. She started to bob up and down as her tongue stroked the rim of his head. Instinctively, he pushed forward and put his hand on her head. He guided her up and down his rod. She struggled at first, but after she relaxed, she was almost able to take his full length.

"Stroke my balls, baby. That's it. Yes!" He grabbed her hair as her fingers started probing his balls, and massaging them tenderly. More insistently he pulled her to him. "Oh yes!" He felt the build up coming. His ass went into the air as he speared her mouth with his cock. She tried to pull away, but he held her firm as he exploded into her mouth, "Ohhhhh YESSSSSSSSSSS! Take it all! Take it all, baby!" He fell back on his heels and let his head fall back. He squeezed his eyes shut still feeling the echoes of the orgasm ripple through his body. He opened his eyes and looked down at Janine still attached to his cock. Slowly she released him and peppered the tip with kisses.

"I love you Daddy."