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Daddy’s Bad Baby Girl




She walks into the room and sees him there, sitting on the bed looking at her, a coldness in his gaze that immediately sets her heart to racing. She has not pleased him. She sees that in his eyes.

"You are late."

"The traffic.... It was bad through L.A."

"You are late and I do not like to be kept waiting."

"I am sorry. Please forgive me."

"Those are words, Baby Girl, and words are easy to say. Come here."

She moves toward him slowly. She is wearing a skirt as he instructed, a gauzy skirt, ankle length with sandals, the backless kind she easily slips out of. Her wavy hair frames her face and curls fall every which way. Her eyes are cast down, repentant. She hopes her statement registers how sorry she really is but she knows he doesn't care.

She stands in front of him now.

"Did you wear panties?"

She shakes her head no and touches her thighs lightly with her fingertips. She feels her skin beneath the filmy fabric. She is hot. She wants to lift her skirt, wants his lips to brush across her belly, wants his fingers to run through her bush, but she doesn't dare move.

"Spread your legs."

She does what he says.

His hands slide under her skirt and move smoothly up until they reach her crotch. "You better be wet."

She looks at him now but only for as long as it takes him to see that look in her eyes; that look of satisfaction. She is so wet, so ready for him. She casts her eyes down again. He fingers her cunt, slides his fingertip along the opening, then moves it up to her clit, already swollen with her desire. Without warning, his fingers plunge inside her, hard enough to make her gasp.

"Does that hurt?"

She moans and rolls her head back slightly. It is such sweet pain. Sweet pain he knows she loves.

"You've been bad, Baby, and you know what that means."

She does know. She knows too well. She knows he will spank her and she knows it will hurt more than it did the last time; knows that each time he spanks her, it will hurt more because she deserves it. She is a bad girl and bad girls must be spanked. How many times has she whispered this in his ear but now she says nothing.

"Take your skirt off."

"And my top?"

He doesn't answer. His eyes are blank, cold in their grayness.

Slowly, she shimmies her skirt down her legs until it falls to the floor. She steps out of it, loses her balance and almost falls. He does not try to catch her.

"Turn around."

She turns slowly and feels the light touch of his fingertips brush across her ass, down one side, up the other, circling with intention. She knows what he is about to do. He loves her ass, he loves to probe it, shove his fingers and ram his cock into it until she cries out. The ultimate surrender is his interpetation. When a man enters his woman in this way, she is forever his; he has told her this many times. His hand travels past her opening. Without words, she knows what he wants. She spreads her legs so his fingers can touch the mouth of her pussy. She is on fire, sizzling in her own juices. He dips his fingers into her well and wets them. She shifts again so the angle is right, then draws in a long breath, a yoga breath, slow and deliberate in anticipation. She will exhale her breath just as slowly, she promises herself. His finger slides into her ass and her body stiffens as it always does, as if somehow his probe has touched the button that stretches her spine taut. He rotates his finger inside her as his other hand glides around her thigh searching for her pussy. He enters her and she pulls in another long breath counting slowly 2-3-4-5-6 and waits, knowing what will come next, knowing his fingers will search for each other, as if trying to find the slit, the imaginary opening between her cunt and ass. She gasps again and breathes out slowly 2-3-4-5-6. Her body is moving, the rhythm building, in the groove of their dance. His fingers continue their search until he withdraws from her abruptly.

"Turn around," he says.

She turns but does not look at him, not until he tells her to.

"You know what I have to do."

She says nothing.

"Are you trying to anger me more?"

She shakes her head no.

"Then why aren't you answering me?"

This time she does, her voice barely a whisper. "I know."

"And what is that?"

"You have to spank me."

He smiles, a sinister smile that used to frighten her but no longer does except she doesn't tell him. That would ruin everything. He leans back on the bed and motions her with his eyes. She bends over his lap. He smacks her butt hard, the stinging shoots through her as if he just connected her pussy to a light socket.

"Tell Daddy you're sorry."

"I'm sorry," she whispers again.

"I can't hear you," he says and smacks her again.

This time she cries out. "I'm sorry."

Tears form and drop from her eyes. She sticks her ass up higher; like a cat in heat. He knows what she wants and shoves his free arm underneath her, just above her pussy.

"Spread your legs," he commands but in a voice so soft, like Daddy's used to get after he finished his spanking.

She spreads her legs and arches up. With one hand underneath, he slaps her again with his other hand, this time making direct contact with the lips of her pussy. She bears down hard like she did when pushing out her babies. "One more, please," the voice inside her head screams out but she doesn't dare speak. He slaps her again, this one makes contact with her clit, the sensation of heat and pain, so exquisite, rushes through her and she bears down again until her insides, so engorged with her pleasure, jut past her lips. One more push and she explodes, ejaculating her sweet hot sea all over him. He shoves his fingers inside and feels the waves of her pussy pulsate to its own beat. She hears him laugh. He loves this part. Loves to feel his effect on her body. Loves it when she sputters all over him. Not always does she ejaculate when she comes but she knows he loves it when she does. It is a testament to him, to a job well done. Her sweet love juices soak his pants and her body goes limp across his lap. His soothing hand begins to gently rub her bottom.

"Baby, you're going to be real sore this time," he says softly. "Let Daddy kiss your boo-boo."

She feels his lips, so tender, kissing her bottom and now she's smiling, too.



End of Story