Page 76 of Daddy’s Hunted Bride

“You’ll see, little fox. But whatever you do, I want you to promise me you'll stay as still as possible.” His grin flashes, full of wicked intent and my pussy clenches emptily in response. “No more emergency room visits for us, yeah?”

Oh sweet Jesus. What the fuck is he going to do to me? “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. This really is going to hurt. A lot. But Daddy will kiss it and make it all better when we’re done.”

With that, he drops to his knees in front of me. I’m able to look down enough to see the top of his head, but not much else, and being essentially blind to his movements ratchets up my terror—and my arousal—several more notches.

Accepting that I’ll just have to wait, I let my head fall back against the stiff bark behind me. It’s actually really serene out here in the woods. Quiet. Peaceful. If it weren’t for⁠—

“Holy fucking shit, that hurt! Daddy, stop! Stop!”

Piercing pain lances through the top of my bare thigh, just beneath where my diaper ends. Again I try to look down, to see what he’s doing, but the bonds are too tight. I wiggle against them, not to escape but just to loosen them enough for me to get a better angle.

But my efforts are met with another stinging pain, this one more familiar than the last, and I freeze in place.

“Vanessa, if you can’t hold still, I will untie you from that tree just long enough for me to whip your bare ass with my belt. Trust me when I tell you that being tied to that tree is going to be much more painful with a welted ass and no diaper for protection.”

Tears prick my eyes. “I’m sorry, Daddy, but it hurts. It’s too much, I can’t… I can’t take it.”

The admission is more shameful than anything he’s ever done to me. But he doesn’t laugh or tease me. He simply leans forward and presses a kiss to my upper thigh, right beside the lingering pain.

“You can take it, baby. You’re the bravest fucking person I’ve ever met. If you need to cry, then you cry as much as you need to. But I’m not stopping until I’m done.”

More of that searing pain slices through my flesh, but I don’t fight it. Closing my eyes, I surrender to the agonizing burn. And as the tears stream down my cheeks, I realize the pain isn’t random. It’s very deliberate, and in my mind I follow the trail he’s blazing down my thigh.

“Is… is that an ‘M’?”

“My clever little fox. It is. Can you guess the next letter?”

The next mark is just a line. One single line. “Is it an ‘I’?”

“Very good, baby. And we only have two more letters to go. You’re being so fucking good for me. Just a little while longer.”

Our guessing game helps to distract me from the pain, at least a bit. It’s still there, a brand on my flesh as he drags what I now realize is the tip of his knife down my skin, splitting it open. Warm liquid trickles down my thigh, proving that he meant what he said when he promised to bleed me.

“That’s… that’s an ‘N’?”

Chuckling, he presses another kiss to my thigh. “You don’t sound very certain.”

“Are you going to punish me for getting it wrong?”

“Maybe. Is that what you want, little fox? Have you been missing your Daddy’s discipline these past few weeks?”

“No.” The lie rolls easily off my tongue, but Daddy isn’t fooled.

“As soon as we get back to the house, I’m washing all those naughty words and filthy lies out of your mouth, little girl. I’ve been letting you get away with far too much and it shows.”

I can’t really argue he hasn’t let me get away with murder ever since my accident, so I turn my attention back to our game. “It's definitely an ‘N’. M-I-N.”

“Such a smart baby. One more letter, and then Daddy will make it all better.”

I wince at the fresh pain as he begins the final letter. One line, like the “I”, which confuses me until I feel him drag the knife the opposite direction.

A “T”, maybe? Mint?

That doesn’t make any sense.

I’m still puzzling it through when he moves the knife lower and makes another cut. “F”? That makes even less sense than “mint”.