He opened the door and tugged me through, his fingers laced tightly around my wrist. It was my room. Not our room, but my room. A little half room in the loft. Small. Low ceiling slopes. It was meant for storage, but we had made it my space.
There was a trundle daybed with soft white bedding, lacy shams and throws, pink striped pillows, pink polka-dotted pillows, spongy and warm and made for one, though often he laid with me here when he was putting me to sleep. It was short for him, but cozy for me. All my stuffed animals, and the ones I had designated for him, live on and around my bed. There is twinkle lights twisted through the wrought iron headboard and all along the perimeter of the room.
There is a small bureau on the opposite wall with mirror above it. The furniture is white, and pink, and collaged with butterflies and fairies. I had decorated it myself one day when I was sent here to think about how it was naughty to talk back to Daddy. There were hair ribbons and barrettes, colored pencils and crayons and Playdoh, and doll brushes and nail polish and little teacups scattered across the surface. Daddy would periodically come in and tell me to clean my room, but only if I had been a good girl for too long or if he crashed into something or stepped on stuff.
I had one window opposite the door, which I left open as much as I could to get breeze into my room. It was sucked up through the wisteria on the side of the house and made it feel fresh in here. The door to my room is called a DUTCH DOOR, and Daddy put it on special for me. He liked to be able to shut me in but still come by and peek at how I was behaving. It is good for ventilation too, but I like it cause I can pretend my room is a barn or a library or a prison or a help desk or lots of things.
The floor is hardwood, but there is a soft rug across the center. It is plush and white and I love lying on my belly on it, digging my nails into the deep strands and leaving finger holes like fairy craters. The hardwood part around the edges is cold and hurts my knees when Daddy makes me kneel in the corner for misbehaving.
The walls have lots of pretty prints on them. Daddy won't let me put up the posters I want cause he says that they are "too mature for a little girl" like me, but I like the fairy ones and the ballet shoes and the tiara he had framed. I have a big Hoobs poster that is my favorite cause Daddy likes to watch with me, letting me sit on his lap and snuggle him. We always watch television in the front room or our bedroom, cause he won't let me have a television in here. I have begged and begged, trust me, but he is being ridiculous!!
He has let me have a stereo though and given me lots of CDs with Disney songs and nursery rhymes and mixed tapes that have some of our special songs on them, like Death Cab for Cutie
, The Offspring
, and Margot and the Nuclear So and So's
. And when I am very good, he will sing to me before I go to sleep.
I have a collection of fairy houses under my window, some that he has brought back to me when he has been away or given to me for birthday or Christmas presents, and some that I have made myself out of glittery craft supplies and things I find on walks. I have a music box and four beautiful snow globes. I have a collection of makeup and dress up clothes in a trunk in the closet, and a tea set with little blue rosettes all over it. I have a dollhouse with a family inside, which even has a little dog and cat. I have a shelf of books that I have arranged over and over, by author and title and size and height. And I have a rocking chair for Daddy to sit in when he visits my room. It's still a small room though, so you can see why Daddy can get so frustrated when it's messy.
There are some parts of the room that I am leaving out. I don't like those parts as much. There's the naughty chair, which is this small white stool Daddy keeps in the corner for when he thinks I need a time-out. There is the last drawer of my bureau which is filled with things he uses to punish me when I am a bad girl, things like paddles and hairbrushes and rulers and little plugs for my bottom. And there is a belt hung beside my door to remind me to be good whenever I leave the room. Punishments outside this room can be much more severe.
"Daddy, wait!" I whined, trying to pry his fingers off my wrist. He turned quickly and pulled my hand to his chest, leaning down and narrowing his eyes. He was very close and I was scared already. He is quite tall, taller than me, and has dark, intense eyes and strong hands.
"What is it? Do you have something you want to say to me?" he asked, curling his fingers tighter around my hand. It wasn't fair. It wasn't my fault. He was being stubborn. But try telling Daddy that. You see, it's not always easy to know that even when you're right, you're wrong if Daddy says you're wrong. But I wasn't wrong!
I glared back at him, "Nope."
He growled quietly and his eyes pierced mine. Then he straightened and let go of my hand, "You have three seconds to answer me properly."
I drew my lips into a tight line. He wasn't playing fair. He didn't deserve my proper answer.
"Three. Two. One," he counted down before SLAP!
I gasped when his palm struck my cheek hard. My teeth hurt, my eyes watered. I grabbed my face and glared back at him.
"You have three seconds to answer me properly," he repeated, uncompromisingly. I gritted my teeth.
"NO DADDY, I don't have anything to say to you," I hissed, rubbing my cheek miserably.
He nodded. Then he looked around, eyeing the mess all over the bed and the pieces of the dollhouse lined up one-by-one on the floor beside it, the tea set filled with Playdoh. His jaw clenched.
"Well, looks like you'll have time to clean your room while you think about it, won't you?" he said, turning back to me.
"But Daddy, you said we were going to see a movie today!" I cried, bouncing angrily, "YOU PROMISED. YOU LIAR!"
Daddy was pissed. He grabbed my face and slammed me against the wall behind me. I whimpered loudly, my body wracked with waves of pain. The belt hung in my periphery now and his nails dug in to my throat. I caught his hand in mine and held on, shaking my head and gasping.
"That was so disrespectful, cunt," he said, not looking at me but pressing his mouth to my ear. He was not loud, but it was so close it hurt to hear him, "You need to drop this brat behavior. You are not entitled to a damn thing. I don't need to tell you anything twice, is that clear?"
"If I tell you that you are wrong, what should your response be?" he continued, his thumb sliding over my jaw.
"SorryDaddy," I whispered, biting my lip.
"If I tell you to go to your room, what should your response be?" he asked, his hand loosening from my neck.
"YesDaddy," I said, taking a deep breath.
"Good. Take off your skirt and your panties and give them to me now," he said, letting go of me completely. It was delayed, a second. It might have been confusion or maybe shock, easily as these, disobedience. He grabbed my hair and yanked it down hard, until I was bent double with my head at his lap.
"NOW," he said, loudly, twisting the strands of my hair in his fist.
"YesDaddy," I breathed, reaching for the button of my skirt and sliding it down quickly, then my panties, and holding them up for him. He let go of my hair and I stood.
"Stupid girl," he said, quietly taking both and dropping them on the bureau, "You're going to clean this room up. You have an hour. When I come back, I want to see it done, do you understand?"
"YesSir," I said, nodding. The room was a mess and I was sighing in my head.
"I also want a full apology for this morning AND I want you to come up with your punishment," he added.
Before I could protest, he said, "You think that being sent to your room makes up for your behavior, miss?"
I scowled, thinking that yes, indeed it had
. I was missing the movie he promised me and having to clean too!!
"It doesn't," he confirmed, "Your total lack of obedience and respect for me is unacceptable. I am your Daddy. You do what I tell you, when I tell you, for whatever reason I give, even if that is no reason at all, understand?"
I understood, but I sure didn't like it, so I nodded, "Mm hm."
He slapped my face without pause and I yelped, to which he replied, "I thought we'd discussed how you are to answer your Daddy, little girl."
"YESDADDY," I shouted, rubbing my face. He looked ready to explode. I go too far sometimes. Way too far.
It was one of those times.
"You stupid cunt," he seethed, looking mad enough to yank me from the room and hold me down in the room outside, punch me, bite me, rape me until I bled. What the fuck did I do?
"Sorry Daddy, I'm sorry," I stammered, apologizing as fast as I could, "Sorry, I'm sorry. I was wrong. That was disrespectful, I'm sorry. Sorry, sorry."
I was wringing my hands and pleading apologies, chewing my lip as he considered how to teach me what I had done to displease him.
He took a step back, his demeanor becoming more aloof, removed. I hated that. He turned and pulled open the bottom drawer to the bureau. Part of me—the part that always suspected some of my behavior would eventually be too much for him and he would give up, leave, abandon me—sighed a little. He was planning to punish me. He still wanted to keep me.
He rummaged through the drawer and selected a medium-sized green plug. It was short and thick and hurt if there was no warm up. He moved to the bed and sat down, looking out the window for a bit. I was uneasy. It was very clear what he was planning. It was not going to feel good, but I deserved it. I tugged my shirt down over my legs, as far as it would go.
He turned to me then, and I couldn't read his face. He said, "Come here."
I walked over to him, twisting a lock of hair at my shoulder, watching him. If I could hear his thoughts, they would have sounded like this: Stupid fucking cunt bitch, how dare she show me such disobedience and disrespect. I should fuck you until you bleed so you know who owns everything you think and do, every part of that body you call your own. I should tie you up and leave you in the bathtub, piss on you all day long. I should leave you in the backyard naked, gagged, with my name on every part of your skin, you stupid whore. Ungrateful cunt, you're just a hole for me to fuck, don't you get that? Everything you think is because I allow it. And when I stop allowing it, you're wrong, do you understand? I could make you understand, you dirty cum slut. I SHOULD make you understand.
I touched his face gently, trembling, "I'm sorry, Daddy. Please punish me."
He was silent. I continued, "I'm a stupid cunt, Daddy. I am ungrateful and spoiled and disrespectful. Please punish me, Daddy. I need it."
He pulled away from my hand and motioned for me to sit on his lap. I slid my butt up onto his thighs and leaned back against his chest, he wrapped one arm around my waist and traced the plug across my lips with the other.
"You're very close to getting something I can promise you that you don't want, little girl," he said softly, dragging the smooth cold plastic along my lower lip. I nodded slightly, feeling my body settling into his.
"Kiss it," he instructed, tapping it against my mouth. I puckered up my lips and kissed it, my cunt pulsing between my legs. I could feel my thighs twitching.
"Good girl, very good," he said, shifting his hips under my ass. My pussy throbbed and I moaned softly.
He slid his hand from my belly to my thigh and grabbed the soft flesh inside my lap between insistant, but gentle, fingers, pulling open my naked slit. He ran the plug along my upper lip, then said, "Suck on it, baby girl."
I was melting, my cunt swelling open when I parted my lips. He slid it into my mouth much easier than it would enter my ass, and I closed my teeth around it, caressing the rubbery knob with my tongue, sucking it like I might my Daddy's cock, if I were lucky enough to have it between my lips. His thumb grazed my cunt, warm on my damp folds. I could feel him getting hard under my ass and I shifted so that his bulge could nestle right between my bare cheeks. Both of my hands were on his thighs and I slurped the plug a little more noisily.
"Good girl, get it nice and wet for your tight little hole, cause I'm just going to push it in," he murmured, nodding when I pouted. The idea of stretching me wider than I could handle seemed to make him harder. I could hear it in his voice, in his breath, how he was considering using my body for his own whims. It thrilled me, my stomach dancing with electricity.
His fingers tapped my pussy lips and I squealed, moaning at him. I could feel him press his cock against me and I ground my hips down on his lap, eagerly. And then his fingers slid into my slippery slit, curling up into my cunt and holding me tight; he said, "Can you feel how wet you are, slut? I did this
. This is why you will do what I say, when I say. I allow this when it pleases me, understand?"
I nodded, mumbling around the plug that suddenly felt so large in my open mouth. If Daddy wanted it, I might never cum again. If he wanted, my cunt might remain untouched, unopened, unlicked, unfisted, unfucked. I was wrong. I was reckless and stupid. I must always do what my Daddy tells me; I am wrong when he says I'm wrong. And I am stupid for needing this reminder.
"Good girl," he hissed, slipping his wet fingers from my pussy and pushing me forward until my fingertips brushed the ground. My legs were still on either side of his lap and my ass was open wide to him. He leaned down and held open his palm. I spit the plug into it and felt him sit back up, hold my back with his empty hand. His fingers skated down across my ass and he found my hole with his fingers. I whimpered.
"Shut your mouth, cunt," he instructed, pressing roughly against my taut pucker. I bit my lip and closed my eyes tight, trying to breathe, to relax, though my lungs were cramped up in this position. Then I felt him settle the wet little tip against my asshole and press, burrowing deeper and deeper. I squeaked, then whined, loudly, and as it pushed farther and wider, gasped, wanting to beg my Daddy to pleasestoppleasestop
. It hurt, felt like it was going to rip me open. Daddy didn't care.
If I could have heard his thoughts, they would have sounded like this: Shut your stupid mouth, you dirty bitch. You're so fucking lucky today. If you ask me to stop, I'm going to make you bleed. Go ahead, cunt, ask me. Ask me! I want to rape you. Can you feel that, baby? Can you feel how much I want to dig my nails into your shoulder blades and carve open your back while I fuck you into submission? What's stopping me? Not you. Never you. Your luck. My self-control. My self-control IS your luck. You WILL be drinking Daddy's piss tonight though. You WILL be sucking my dick under the table at dinner. And you will ask for every single freedom in the weeks to come, at home, on the phone, when we're out, no matter who is around. I WILL hear you call me Daddy when you ask to use the bathroom at school. I WILL hear you call me Daddy when you ask to have a glass of water. You won't continue to forget who owns you, will you, cunt?
And he shoved it all the way in, fast, wide, while I screamed. His hand was heavy on my back and he held me down, my ass so hot, so abused, so open. I could feel his hips, his grin, his nails in my skin as I choked and begged. I was crying and writhing. Sometimes I could get used to the feel, but it hurt so much. So much.
He reached beneath my legs and slid three fingers into my tight cunt. I was gasping through gritted teeth and crying, but he shushed and grabbed my hair.
"DAAAADDY!" I yelped, twisting against the growing pain in my hole, "Pleeeeeease DADDY! Owwwch, mmm owww. Daddydaddydaddy, nonononono."
"Yes, baby," he said, then pulled my hair up and reached between his legs, brushing the plug as he unzipped his pants. I groaned, wanting it removed more than anything. He had his dick out was sliding it against my pussy. I tried to ignore the pain, but it throbbed fire.
"I liked how that plug looked in your mouth, little girl," he said, standing up and pushing me off of him, "I want my dick in there now. Open."
I opened and he placed his hand on my head and shoved me down to my knees, sliding his veined bulge into my hungry mouth. I suckled him, tasting my pussy on his foreskin, but his hand wove into my hair and he slammed his cock into my throat.
"You don't get to enjoy this, cunt," he said cruelly, "In fact, if you're wet when I'm done here, I'm going to spank your slutty cunt, understand?"
It wasn't fair, I was already wet. He knew that. I groaned, frowning, so he growled, "Wrong answer."
He pulled me off his cock and dragged me over to the wall on my knees. He pressed me against the wall and stepped around my thighs, his knees slapping against the wall. He smacked my face until I opened my mouth, then jammed his cock inside while I coughed and sucked. He braced himself against the wall and told me not to move, not to breath. Then, he fucked my face, his hips slapping the back of my head against the pretty pink paint.Faster, harder.
I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore and I was grunting, moaning while he used my throat, the pain in my ass pulsing up my spine and colliding with the ache in my head.
He grabbed my head and pushed it down his cock, grunting, "Swallow, bitch, swallow, swallow."
I couldn't breathe, I swallowed, coughing and spitting, cum leaking from my lips while he slapped against my face, grunting loudly.
He leaned against the wall, breathing hard and holding the back of my head, gasping, "What the fuck are you waiting for? Clean up, now."
"YesDaddy," I said, sucking air harder, my chest rising and falling, "Thank you Daddy."
I licked the cum from my mouth, then from his balls and cock, gently. He watched me as he caught his breath, in a way that I suspected was fraught with criticism. He had taught me well though. I did it exactly as he liked it.
When I was finished, he said, "Get up, sit on your bed and lay back with your legs over the edge."
"YesDaddy," I whispered, wanting to rub the back of my head.
"Open your legs. Wide, baby," he said when I was in position. He leaned over me, one hand next to my head, watching me, while the other snuck between my legs, two fingers sawing between my pussy lips and finding me stupidly wet. I trembled when he touched me, shaking visibly, wanting him to suck my clit until I came on his face.
I screamed. He had slapped my open cunt. Then slapped my thighs, opened my legs and slapped my pussy lips, harder, holding my legs apart when I tried to close against him.
"Dirty girl," he said as he spanked my pussy, the wet slippery slaps making me squeal and twist, hiccup pain, moan, "Look at how wet you are, you stupid bitch. I told you no. You don't listen do you?"
"SorryDaddy, sorrrrrry, sorrysorry," I apologized absurdly, groaning and wincing, "I'm a dirty slut, Daddy. I'm sorry. I'm disobedient and spoiled, sorrysorry Daddy!"
"Good girl," he said, smiling brutally to himself as he slapped at my tender clit. I grabbed him and howled, begging.
"Daddy!! DADDY! Pleaseowwwch, please Daddy!" I was sobbing, trying desperately to close my thighs.
"Stop," he said quietly. I wailed, trying to relax. I felt his hand on the plug, tapping it hard, and I gasped, looking at him, quiet as I could.
He let go of my legs, "You're getting two more, baby—"
I nodded, so grateful that it was going to end, "Yes Daddy, thankyouDaddy."
"—with my belt," he continued, watching my face. I was crumpling inside. Screaming and protesting and hot with frustration. I belong to my Daddy. My body belongs to my Daddy. I am wrong
, I chanted in my head.
"Yes Daddy," I whispered, leaning back on the bed and covering my face.
He walked to the wall and took the belt off the hook, doubled it and made some loud cracking noises, snapping it together to warm up the leather. I swallowed as much as I could.
"Ask me properly," he said, the tension heavy in the small room. Tears were leaking from the corners of my eyes and I couldn't look at him.
"Please spank my pussy with y-your belt, Daddy," I said quietly, tensing hard around the plug, my stomach knotted.
"Good girl, baby," he said, then, "Hands above your head. No closing your legs, no shielding yourself. You will thank me after each, you understand?"
"Yes Daddy," I said, quickly, like he was expecting. I raised my hands above my head and felt the hem of my shirt rise, exposing the bottom of my tummy. I felt so vulnerable. I had to concentrate on keeping my legs open when I knew what blinding pain was about to lick my slutwet cunt.
It seemed to move through the air forever, the whistle so very long until it cracked sickeningly along the middle of my body, electric on my cunt, whitehot and exploding showers of tart pain. I could taste metal in my mouth. And then I screamed.
My body shook, my hips coiling. He waited, and without a full breath, I said, "ThankyouDaddy."
He let the pain sink in, far into my hips, my back. I could only think of how that was going to happen again. My fingers twitched. I was crying. Then he lifted the belt again and slapped it down on my bright red cunt, swelling the puffed strip of flesh with searing pain. I couldn't scream this time, no sound but a hoarse exhale. Then I wailed, crying hard.
"Th-thank you, Daddy," I sobbed, my body convulsing. My pussy hurt so much. I wanted a cold towel, soft petting. He wasn't having it, though he put the belt down.
He went to the door. Then turned back around and said, "You will leave that plug in until I take it out. You will clean this room. You have an hour. You will not touch your cunt, you will not put on any more clothes. You will get this done efficiently. If I find any of this shit out or any of my rules broken when I return, I will make you cry for days. I will spank your ass, your cunt, I will tie you up and beat you, rape your ass, and choke you with my cock. Got it?"
My eyes were big, real big, I breathed, "YesSir."
And then he shut the door. If I could have heard his thoughts, they would have sounded like this: When I come back, that collar is going on. I'm going to drag that puppy bitch down to the front room and make her drink my piss. I'm going to choke her with her chain and beat her with that horsehair whip. I'm going to stretch her ass with the biggest plug, I'm going to fist her dirty cunt. I'm going to make her scream all night long, and if she if still breathing easy tonight, I'm going to sleep with my cock in her mouth. Bad girl. My bad, bad girl.