Spanking for Two

"Yes, Daddy."

I heard him in the next room for a few moments before he went downstairs, and I finished drying off and made my way to my own room.  The bikini would be a good choice -- it was the catalyst for all of this, after all -- but I had another idea.  I chose a diaphanous sarong that I'd picked up for beach wear the year before and wrapped it lightly around my hips a couple of times.  I was basically nude but not; sometimes, it was fun to unwrap the present.  If he didn't like it, he could pull it off me easily enough, and I couldn't help a shiver as I considered that I hadn't literally obeyed his command.  He could punish me, if he wished.  Another spanking, and all that would entail.  There were worse things.

By the time I'd got downstairs he already had a salad ready, with bread and cheeses to go with it and a couple of small bottles of beer.  It looked divine, and I realized how hungry I was.  Being fucked by Daddy really gave me an appetite.

"Hmm," he said, as he looked up and saw me.  "Not quite nude, and obviously no bikini -- but I'll accept it, because you look so fuckable and hot."

I smiled at him and walked to him, pressing my bare breasts against him as I went up on my toes to give him a kiss.  "Thank you, Daddy."

We ate on the deck, and it was nice knowing I could begin to erase what tan lines I had on my breasts.  I really didn't like tan lines one little bit, and I was sure Daddy would appreciate them gone too.

"I have work to do this afternoon," he said once we'd finished.  "I'll be in my office for most of the rest of the day." He took a sip of beer, "Any plans?"

"Just laze around by the pool, I suppose," I said, closing my eyes and stretching slowly, knowing he was watching.  "I'll just be lying out here, in the sun, all naked... probably playing with myself while I think about you fucking me... and poor you, stuck behind your desk all afternoon."

I opened my eyes to glance at him mischievously, in time to see his lips twitch in amusement. 

"Do you know what happens to little girls who tease?" he asked.

I blinked at him innocently. "Do they get punished, Daddy?"

He chuckled that deliciously dirty chuckle of his.  "They do."

"Oh, goody," I said. 

I helped him carry in the plates, and he gave my ass a slap as he went to his office. 

"Mom will be back tomorrow, so enjoy your last few hours of freedom," he said, as he walked off.

That was a strangely ominous comment.

*

Later that night I lay awake in his bed, naked and wrapped in his arms as he slept, thinking about our day and all that had happened.

I'd quickly got bored by the pool by myself, because there was nothing more I wanted than to be with him.  I didn't want to be alone, knowing he was there in the house.  I'd wandered back inside, shedding my sarong as I went, and padded naked into his office while he'd been on a call.  I'd stayed there all afternoon, kneeling at his feet beneath his desk, contentedly pressing myself to his legs while he did his work.  Sometimes his hand would come down and tussle my hair, or maybe he'd push one of his fingers between my lips to suck for a moment or two.  Those touches were the best.

It wasn't the only thing he made me suck, of course, and I did everything I could to make him moan or twitch while he was on one of his video calls, but his control was absolute.  He never did.  He just slid his hand into my hair and used it as a handle as he fucked my mouth, all the while talking to colleagues about the construction project he was overseeing.  If they only knew what was going on beneath the desk.

After dinner we made love gently, a complete contrast to our earlier punishment-fucking, and he took ages taking me to the edge and keeping me there with the lightest of teasing touches of fingers and tongue.  It was a worse punishment than the spanking, though delicious in its own way, and by the end I was nothing more than a puddle, a slut begging to be allowed to come, for her daddy to fuck her again.  He did.  Eventually.

Damn him for his hot dominance and total control. I thought I had Daddy wrapped around my finger; turned out the direct opposite was actually true.

Afterwards, I'd cleaned him off with my tongue as per his rules, then cleaned all his cum from inside me, too.  I fucking loved the taste of him and was sure I was only growing more addicted over time.  How many times had he come inside my body now?  Four, I thought, in the space of two days.  Twice in my mouth, twice in my pussy -- though the latter had, of course, ended up in my mouth too.  He hadn't taken my ass yet, but I knew he was thinking about it when he'd fucked me from behind that morning.

And tomorrow Mommy would be home.  I wasn't sure how I felt about that.  I'd heard Daddy talk to her on the phone, so she clearly already knew at least some of what we'd been doing, even if she didn't know all the details.  I wanted to say I felt no guilt, but that wasn't entirely true.  I'd been fucking Daddy, yes, but he was also her husband.  I wondered how she would respond to that.  Daddy and I hadn't really discussed it; I think deliberately, on his part.  It was like a secret that he was keeping from me, how Mommy would respond.  Not only had she known, but she'd had two days when she couldn't do anything about it, for her frustrations to build and for her to make her own plans.  The thought made me shiver against my sleeping Daddy, and I pulled his arm more tightly around me.

I drifted off to sleep with only the thought of what I must do when I awoke, and to make sure I woke before him. 

My mouth on his body again.  Pleasant dreams indeed.

*

I woke to an empty bed, and an immediate sense of loss and regret.  I hadn't woken before him, and I knew he wouldn't be pleased.  Plus, I'd missed the chance to have him in my mouth again, and that was most disappointing.

I padded naked into the bathroom, taking care of my morning routine.  My thoughts were in disarray as I brushed my teeth.  Was Daddy cross with me for not waking him as per his rules?  Was Mommy cross with me for fucking Daddy? Today was not starting as I'd hoped, and it didn't bode well for Mommy's return.

It was with a sense of trepidation that I made my way slowly downstairs.

"Morning, sleepyhead," he said, looking up from his laptop at the breakfast table.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," I blurted, looking down in dismay.  "I meant to wake up before you, I really did."

He chuckled softly and pushed back from the table, holding his arms open to me.  I went to him quickly, curling up naked in his lap.  "You had a busy day yesterday, Bubs, and I needed to get up early.  I was tempted to prod you awake, but I felt you'd need your strength today." His hand came down to cup my bare breast.  "Besides, I thought I'd save some of my cum for when Mom came back."

I tried not to feel jealousy at those words, I really did.  "Yes, Daddy."

"She messaged already.  Her flight gets in just before lunch.  I'm going to pick her up from the airport.  Want to come?" He rubbed his thumb over my nipple.  Fuck but that made it tough to think.

I concentrated hard, my brow furrowing, trying to resist his touch long enough to consider the best option.  "Um... I think that might be a bit awkward, Daddy.  Do you think she'd mind if I waited here, instead?"

"I'm sure that'll be fine, baby girl.  You're right, probably better.  We can give her some time to get home and settled." He pushed me gently off his lap.  "Coffee, please, and get yourself some too."

"Yes, Daddy," I said, jumping up with a smile.

"Oh, and Bubs?" he said, without looking up from his laptop.

"Yes, Daddy?"

"If you put salt in it again, I'll take my belt to your ass."

I shivered.  "Yes, Daddy."

I wasn't even sure that would be fun, it sounded like it would hurt way too much.  He'd probably make it fun, in the end, but I wasn't keen to find out right then and there.

Sugar would be just fine on this occasion.

*

I stayed in my room when he went to the airport.  Waited there, sat on my bed, my stomach in anxious knots. 

I'd got dressed in a thigh-length skirt and strappy top, but I'd left off the underwear.  I'd deliberately aimed for a balance, something to say, 'Look, I made an effort to be presentable and not be naked', while also 'Yes, I'm Daddy's slut, there's no denying it'.

Daddy's key turned in the lock and I heard them come in. I chewed my lip nervously.  Should I go down, or wait for Mommy to come and find me?  Daddy had said he had to go to the garage and get the alloy I'd damaged replaced, and that would take an hour or two.  For that time, I'd be alone with Mommy.

For some reason that thought scared the hell out of me in ways it never had before.

A short while later I heard the front door closed again, its distinctive weight adding a finality to Daddy leaving. Mom's feet were on the stairs within moments, and I took a deep, shuddering breath, preparing myself.

But she didn't come in.  I heard her reach the landing and turn away from my room, going to hers instead. 

Crap, but the waiting was the hardest part.  Was she going to punish me?  Ground me?  Spank me?  Congratulate me?  Kick me out of her house? Give me pointers on oral sex?  I was so far out of my comfort zone I had no idea what to expect.

It was a good half hour before I heard her come out of her room.  Long enough for a shower, I surmised -- a sensible activity after a plane journey, especially after such an early start.  It showed a sense of premeditated control and calm that I certainly wasn't feeling.  But then, she was his wife.  She had way more stake in this game than I did.

She knocked on my door.

"Come in, Mom," I answered quickly, apprehension fighting with the desire for the waiting to be over.

She opened my door, and I saw she had her robe on, her hair damp from the shower.  She didn't come in but addressed me from the threshold.  "Emma, sweetie, I missed you.  Would you come downstairs and help me in the kitchen? I thought we'd bake some cookies."

Bake cookies? Of all the things I'd been expecting, that had to be like... third from the bottom or something.  Just above 'Mom is actually an alien' and just below 'the house burnt down, we never got a chance to talk'.

"Er... of course, sure, Mom."

She watched as I pushed myself up from the bed, her eyes running over my strappy top, my braless breasts, my sliver of bare tummy and my short skirt.  She seemed to note my bare legs and bare feet, and her lips twitched in a smirk that seemed strangely reminiscent of Dad's.

"I've only been gone a couple of days, and you seem to have grown into a woman," she said wistfully, and I blushed at the double meaning in that sentence.

She stepped back and let me lead going downstairs.  "Are we really baking cookies?" I asked, over my shoulder.  "We haven't done that in months."

"We don't have to," she replied.  "We could watch a movie instead.  Or..." she sighed, dramatically, "...clean."

I giggled.  "I'm sorry, we were a bit distracted the last few days.  I should've done more cleaning."

"Oh?" she said, as we walked into the kitchen.  "What distracted you so?"

Crap.  She'd wanted the opportunity to ask something like that, and I'd handed it to her on a plate.  But it wasn't as if she didn't already know. Whatever I'd said she'd have found some way of turning the conversation around to this subject.

I leant back against the kitchen table and looked at her, my head cocked slightly as I considered my options.  We could play games, skirting around what had happened, or we could get it out in the open.  I knew which I preferred.

But it turned out actually saying 'I fucked Daddy in your bed' was a lot harder than I'd expected. "Daddy and I have been working on our relationship," was all I was able to manage.

Her smirk briefly reemerged.  "That's one way of putting it," she said, and with that quip she'd confirmed what I'd already known.  Almost. Implied it, at least.  In fact, it still could be taken a few different ways.  Hell, how much did she know?  I'd expected her to be in-my-face over it, and she was still skirting around.

Well, fine.  Two could play at that game, I supposed.

"Oh? Did he say something before he left?" My tone was a model of polite inquiry, my expression one of perfect innocence.

Mommy hadn't bought it.  She stepped in toward me, placing one fingertip under my chin and angling my face up toward her.  We were about the same height -- in fact, we were obviously mother and daughter, with very similar features and bodies; she'd been mistaken for my sister on more than one occasion, which she always enjoyed -- but with me leaning against the table, and her well inside my space, there was a height difference.  Enough that she could look down at me, and I had to look up at her.

"I think I know everything I need to know, sweetie," she said.  Sweetie. She rarely called me that.  Strangely, it only came out when she was being sarcastic or extremely affectionate -- a dichotomy I'd never quite understood.  It left me most confused now because I couldn't figure out which it was.

Her finger dropped from beneath my chin, her hand instead playing idly with one of the straps of my top.  "Do you mind if I ask you a question?" she said, as she pulled the strap slightly away from my skin.

"Sure, Mommy."

"Do you have Daddy's cum inside your body, right at this moment?"

It was an effort not to gasp in shock.  Her tone was so nonchalant, her delivery so casual, that it quite caught me unawares.  And the very fact she'd asked suggested she didn't know for sure.  Did she know?  Was she playing games?  Did she just want to hear me say it?  Fuck, how do you answer a question like that?  I should've gasped in shock.  It would've been more convincing to protest my innocence.  Too late now, I'd missed the chance.

I didn't know how to answer her.  'Yes' could get us both in totally deep shit, and 'No' was a lie.  I was so stunned by the bluntness of her question I couldn't think straight enough to come up with another option.  I just blinked up at her, lost in the consternation of my guilt.

She smiled, a slow, dangerous smile.  A smile I'd never seen on my mommy's face before.  The sort of smile I could imagine a Succubus might deploy, a brief second before she sucked out your soul.  The sort of smile that would either draw men in or have them running for the hills, the likelihood of each directly proportional to how much spine they had.  I knew how much spine Daddy had, and maybe this smile of hers was one of the reasons they were together.

"No answer, sweetie?" She trailed her knuckled against my bare skin, beneath the strap, pulling on it as she did so.  The top of the garment came away slightly, until I was showing a little more breast than I had before.  That was relative; I was still covered.  Aside from being braless, of course.  But it was a strangely intimate touch, one that drew attention to how little I was wearing before her.  Or maybe that was in my head. I didn't know anymore.  The whole direction of the encounter had left me somewhat confused.

"Are you not sure?" she asked, pushing the point.  "Can you not remember if..." she smiled her smile again and let the strap of my top ping back against my skin, lifting her hand back up to my face and rubbing the ball of her thumb firmly, brusquely, across my lower lip.  "...If Daddy's cum went in here?" As she finished her question, she pushed two fingers into my mouth. 

I couldn't move.  I could hardly think.  I absolutely didn't know how to respond to her.  Her fingers were in my mouth, her fingertips easily finding my tongue and caressing it, making it seem like I was licking her. Perhaps I was.

Her other hand dropped to the hem of my shirt, lifting it up with a sudden yank.  She trailed her hand over my belly.  "I think his cum is in here, isn't it, sweetie?"  She let her nails scrape over my skin.  "Did you suck him?  Did you like it when he came in your mouth?"

Her fingers stopped me from talking, but I couldn't look away from the expression in her eyes.  There was no hiding from her.  She knew, she fucking knew, and there was no denying it.  How much shit was I in?  How much shit was he in?

"Did you swallow every drop, sweetie?" She stepped even more into my space, such that her legs were astride my thigh, and she pushed her pelvis against my hip bone.  She had me pinned against the table, and she was still exploring my mouth with one hand.  The other she swiftly slid up beneath my top, finding my breasts bare beneath, and then she was pinching and twisting one of my nipples.

I gasped around the fingers in her mouth, looking up at her in confusion and arousal.  Fuck yes, arousal. Her fingers in my mouth, the touch on my body, the focus of her questions, the very invasion of my space, and now the twisting of my nipple? It was dominance again, just like Daddy had shown, and I was responding in kind, with my submission.  I couldn't help it.  It had been a totally confusing few days, and now Mommy was taking over from where Daddy had left off.

She let her fingers slip from my mouth and wiped one wet fingertip down my cheek.  "Is his cum inside your body?" she asked again, and then she grabbed my chin in her fingers.  "Answer me," she demanded.

"Yes, Mommy," I whispered.  I couldn't help it.  She'd have known if I lied, but lying was so far from my mind in that moment.  She was intimidating me, and I was so in the wrong, filled with guilt for being fucked by Daddy, being fucked by her husband.

Her grip on my chin tightened.  "Did you suck him off?"

"Yes, Mommy," I said again, and a tremble ran though my body.

"Did he cum inside your tight little pussy?" and her voice was a whisper, a very dangerous whisper.

"Yes, Mommy," I repeated.  "I'm so sorry," I added, with as much sincerity as I could muster. For what good it might do.  Probably not much.

"Why are you sorry?" she asked, feigning surprise.  Her fingers left my chin and brushed up my cheek.  Her other hand had been on my breast the whole time, twisting my nipple, but strangely it had been the hand on my face I'd noticed the most.  Her touch on my face was more dominant; the other merely sexual.  'Merely'.  Like having Mommy pinch and twist my nipple was an everyday thing.

"Why are you sorry?" she repeated, as I hadn't answered.  Her fingers pushed into my hair, and slowly she gripped. "Did you not like it?"

She began to tug on my hair, pulling my head slowly to the side.  I whimpered.

"Well?" she insisted. "Did you like it?  Yes, or no?"

"Yes, Mommy," I gasped, my head held painfully to one side by her hand. 

"You liked it when Daddy fucked you?"

"Yes," I breathed. There was no hiding now.

"You liked it when he came in your tight little pussy?"

Fuck yes, I did.  "Yes, Mommy."

Her smirk was back, and this time I recognised it for what it was.  Sadism, pure and simple.  She twisted her hand in my hair.  "Did he make you eat his cum from your cunt?"

Oh fuck, she knew.  Wait, did she know?  It was a question, wasn't it?  But it wasn't a question one asked if one didn't already know the answer.  Yet how could she possibly know?  How had she known?  Oh.  I was being dumb.  Of course she knew: she'd done the same thing herself.  Daddy's rules.

"Yes, Mommy," I whispered.

She leant in slightly. "Did you like it?"

"Yes, Mommy," and my voice was so soft I hardly heard it myself.

She wasn't satisfied, twisting my hair sharply about her fingers and using her hold to shake my head.  "I asked if you liked it," she said, punctuating each word with a shake.