There was no question that she’d go
back to Bob’s house that night. Candy called her roommate to tell her not to
worry about her and then she dressed in the school uniform. When she went back
downstairs, Bob was working on dinner in the kitchen so she stepped outside for
a smoke. It had been nearly eighteen hours since her last one and she was
desperate for a nicotine fix.
Candy stood on the patio by the slider
doors, gazing across Bob’s beautifully emerald green back lawn. She’d just
taken a deep drag of smoke when the patio door opened and Bob stepped out.
“Smoking? Daddy doesn’t approve. It’s
bad for little girls.” He frowned and she knew he wasn’t really playing.
Taking on the role of a teenager
acting out, she shrugged and blew wisps of gray. “I’m not a kid anymore, Dad.
You can’t control me. If I want to smoke, I’m gonna do it. Do you want it to be
behind your back?”
“Young lady, you’re not going to
smoke. You’re going to obey me or be restricted to your room.”
“I don’t
have
a room. I sleep
in your room, remember?” she drawled.
He grabbed her wrist, hard enough to
hurt and plucked the cigarette from between her fingers. Casting it on the
ground, he stepped on the butt. “I won’t have this kind of behavior. You’re not
too old to put over my knee.”
“Oh what, so you’re gonna spank me
now? I don’t think so.” Funny but it began to feel real as she layered on the
teenage attitude. She found herself pissed off. Who was this man to tell her
she had to stop smoking? They’d known each other less than a fucking day. They
were role playing. This wasn’t reality and he had no right.
“I’m only saying this because I care
about your health. I would hope you’d be reasonable enough to see that.” The
coolness of his tone was enough to chasten her a little, but she was still
fairly pissed as she jerked away from him and strode into the house.
“Fuck you!” she shot back over her
shoulder.
Her Daddy caught up with her and
seized her wrist again. “You can provoke all you want. I’m not going to lose my
temper but I am going to punish you. I won’t have that kind of foul language in
my house.”
Candy struggled, but this time he
didn’t let go. He pulled her into the living room and pushed her face down over
a large ottoman. His hand gripped the back of her neck, keeping her pinned. She
squirmed, but his strength was too much for her.
Daddy lifted her skirt and pulled down
her underwear. She held her breath as the cool air touched her ass and she
waited for the first blow. Her breasts were crushed against the footrest and
her face pressed into the rough material. She heard the sharp crack of flesh on
flesh almost before she felt the sting on her bottom.
“Ow!” she cried and struggled harder.
“Let me go.”
“Candy, the more you fight me, the
longer this will go on. You need to learn a lesson about obedience. I’m not out
to hurt you. Everything I do is because I care about your well being.”
Smack. The hand hit her again, setting
her buttocks jiggling. Blow after blow slapped her bare flesh in a steady
rhythm. The stings grew harder and her backside glowed with heat from the blood
rushing to it. Even as she cried and protested, Candy was completely aroused by
the treatment. Her pussy lips were swollen and pliant as she creamed onto the
ottoman. Her cheek grated against the rough upholstery fabric. All of her exposed
skin felt abraded as if she was lying on sandpaper. She wanted to be fucked so
badly she thought she might beg for it.
“You will stop smoking,” Daddy
demanded, “and you will no longer use foul language. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, her voice
choked with tears. They trickled from her eyes and dampened the footstool
beneath her head.
“Very well.” The harsh blows stopped.
Cool air kissed her burning cheeks and a moment later, Daddy’s hand caressed
her backside very gently. She lifted into his touch like a cat being petted.
For a moment, his hand slipped between
her legs and fondled her soaking wet pussy. “You are a horny girl, aren’t you?”
His tone was affectionate and she was grateful that his disappointment in her
had been brief.
“I am. I can’t help it.”
“You’d probably like me to ease your
aching pussy.” He massaged her plump lips and rolled his finger along her seam.
More tears slipped from Candy’s eyes at the exquisite pleasure.
“Please,” she begged.
“But then your punishment would turn
into a reward. I don’t want you acting out just to get my attention. So you
will remain like this, with your bottom in the air, for ten minutes. Then you
will come to the dinner table and eat your meal like a proper young lady. You
will receive no sexual relief tonight. In fact, I want you to think about this
tomorrow while you’re at work. Remember what happens to girls who disobey their
Daddies. But you will not come. Not until I say you may.”
God, just hearing him say “Daddy” made
her want to come. Her body was throbbing with both pain and desire. One flick
of his finger on her clit would put her over the edge. For that matter, one
rock of her hips would scrape her clit and give her the release she needed.
“Promise me.” His voice was rumbling
thunder. “Promise you’ll do as I say and only come on my command from now on.”
Ooh, “command” was another word that
set her on fire. “I promise. I won’t come unless you tell me to.” She wiggled
her bottom in the air, hoping for another pat or another slap. She’d happily
take either one so long as he was touching her. But Daddy turned away, leaving
her to ponder her transgression.
She’d been such a naughty, bad girl
and now she saw the error of her ways.
* * * *
Bob returned to the kitchen, but he
gazed at his girl in the living room with her reddened butt cheeks raised in
the air. She looked so smoking hot he thought he’d go berserk if he couldn’t
plow into that sweet ass right then and there. It was criminal how good she
looked in the school uniform—blue blazer, plaid skirt, knee socks and saddle
shoes and a completely bare bottom, bright red from his spanking. Sure the
outfit was a cliché but men found the image hot for a reason. Girlish innocence
on the cusp of sexual maturity was a profoundly erotic thing.
He considered his need to be Candy’s
Daddy and what it said about him. When he’d first realized his predilection for
that kind of age play, he’d read all he could find about it—half afraid he was
a pedophile closeted even from himself. But what he’d learned was that it
wasn’t uncommon for adults to eroticize some aspect of childhood and for other
adults to enjoy the role of caretaker in that scenario. It didn’t mean he
wanted to dominate a real little girl—not at all. He was very clear on the fact
that he wanted a grown woman to
become
his little girl.
And now, as his gaze traveled over
Candy sprawled over the ottoman, he knew she was the one he wanted.
But it was a tricky thing they were
embarking on and he knew it was moving too fast. They needed to establish
ground rules, safe words, a framework in order to make certain they were both
on the same page. He would discuss that with her over dinner. But first he’d
enjoy the sweet sight of her subjugation while he cooked.
When dinner was ready and Candy’s ten
minutes of punishment was over, Bob called her to come to the table. She rose
somewhat stiffly and reached behind herself to rub her sore cheeks before
stooping to pick up her panties from the floor.
“You don’t have to wear those. Come as
you are and sit down.”
How compliant she was as she instantly
responded to his order. Candy had said she’d played BDSM scenes before and he
could see she was a natural sub. She slid into the chair across from him,
barely meeting his eyes as she reached for her fork.
“Candy, I think we should talk before
we play this out any farther. It’s a little early in our relationship for me to
start reprimanding or punishing you when we haven’t even clarified how much is
pure play and how much we want to be real.”
She looked up at him at last, her
cheeks flushed with either embarrassment, anger or desire. “I agree. I have to
tell you, I was really quite annoyed when you made me put out my cigarette, but
oddly enough I was also touched you were thinking about my health. And I have
to admit that the spanking turned me on, as you knew it would.” She poked at
her broccoli. “But it’s important to figure out where the game roles leave off
and our real personas begin.”
“We’ll set a safe word and talk about
some guidelines.” He paused, half afraid to say the rest of it in case she
turned him down. “That is, if you want to keep seeing each other.”
Her buoyant grin was back, lighting
her eyes and waking the dimple in her left cheek. “Do you have to ask?”
“Actually I do. That’s my job as the
dom, to make sure we’re in agreement about things. Do we want this to be a one
time thing, an occasional hook up, or something more?”
“As far as I’m concerned, Bob, this is
something
much
more. Sounds crazy when we’ve only just met, but I feel
such a sense of…coming home with you. Something I’ve never felt with anyone
before.”
And I with you, my little girl.
He nodded. “I feel the same way. So,
all right then. Let’s hammer out the details.”
Chapter Three
They’d agreed—again—to try to start
slow, maintaining separate lives and seeing each other a few times a week. But
it wasn’t long before Bob was setting up his spare room as a little girl’s
bedroom. He replaced the neutral tones with a lot of pink and bought a bright
flowered comforter for the bed. He let Candy help decorate since it was to be
her room when she stayed the night. Which wasn’t to say she wouldn’t end up
crawling into her Daddy’s bed before the night was over, but this gave her a
space of her own to retreat to when she wished.
Getting into the girlish spirit of
unicorns and kittens, Candy chose items that would further the illusion of a
child’s room. A plush, chenille rug covered most of the floor. Stuffed animals
and dolls littered the bed. A happy face nightlight plugged into one outlet.
Her collection of dresses and frilly outfits filled the wardrobe, waiting for
Daddy to pick one out and help her dress in it.
“Do you like taking it this far?” Bob
asked her.
Candy was adamant that she was into
the whole scene. “I can always stay at my apartment if I’m not in the mood,”
she remarked one time when he asked her opinion on whether a toy box would be
too much.
“Hey, I don’t want you to feel we have
to age play every time you come over. There are plenty of other scenes we can
do,” he reminded her. “Or we can simply be ourselves. Hang out like that.”
Candy turned to him with a wry smile.
“I’m beginning to think this
is
myself. I feel so relaxed when I slip
into my little girl mode. I mean, surly teenage hottie is great, too, but I’m happiest
when I’m very young and you’re taking care of me.”
“So am I.” He slipped his arms around
her and pulled her close, breathing in her strawberry scent. “I love taking
care of you. And hey, we can keep some pretty adult ‘toys’ in that toy box if
we want to.”
As Candy stayed over more and more
often, Bob enjoyed laying out her clothes and giving her guidance about what
she should do that day. On work days she had to adopt her capable waitress
façade. She put on the tank top and skirt that were the unofficial uniform of
waitresses at Jake’s Place, but underneath, he told her to wear her ruffled
pantalets to remind her she was still Daddy’s little girl. He liked to think of
her going about her work, flirting with customers, playing the waitress, while
all those men were ignorant of who Candy really was.
Bob had a love-hate relationship with
the idea of Candy and other men. A deep-seated part of him wanted to keep her
completely for himself, pure, childlike, innocent and completely his, but
images of her blowing other guys kept haunting him. He pictured her hooking up
with a customer at the bar, taking him into the back room and pulling down her
ruffled pantalets so he could fuck her. The thought enraged and aroused him.
His conflicting feelings made him grow
a bit short with Candy for no good reason and one evening she confronted him
about it in her own unique way.
Bob arrived home from a frustrating
day of work to find his girl waiting for him dressed in a Shirley Temple style
dress with layered petticoats that made it puff out all around her. Her lovely
legs were naked but for a pair of white anklets, and her patent leather shoes
gleamed. Candy had dressed her normally straight hair into a multitude of
sausage thick ringlets that tumbled in wild profusion around her delicate face.
The look was completed by a big bow gracing the side of her head and a red
sucker clutched in her hand.
She met him at the front door to take
his briefcase and rose on her toes to give him a quick kiss that tasted of
cherries. “Daddy looks tired. Was work hard today?”
“A little.”
She grasped his hand and pulled him
over to the couch. “I have a fun game that will make you feel better. Sit
down.”