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“That’s not all you need though, is it, little girl? You need more than to just be spanked by Daddy from time to time, don’t you?”
My body was pulsing with sensation and he was the only one that knew what I wanted.
“I do need more, Daddy,” I whimpered. I stared down at the floor. I was too afraid to look at him. Would he think I was broken for wanting this?
“What do you need, little girl?” he pushed.
“I…” I began but I lost my courage before the words could fall off my lips.
“Tell me. Tell Daddy what you need,” he urged, gentle and coaxing when I felt like I didn’t deserve it. His finger drew beneath my chin, forcing me to look up into his eyes and his tenderness wasn’t lost on me. It was sweet and that helped me to find the bravery to say what I wanted to tell him.
“I… I need you, Daddy. I need you to fuck me. I need you,” I whispered, almost horrified at what I was saying.
“You need Daddy’s cock, don’t you, little girl?” he asked, and I blushed furiously at the frankness of his reply. He sounded so arrogant, but at the same time I knew he was right.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Then it’s time I took you to bed, little girl. It’s Daddy’s job to give you exactly what you need, isn’t it?” he purred.
“Yes, Daddy,” I squeaked.
My pussy couldn’t have tightened any harder. His fingers trailed teasingly along my skin and my entire body trembled hard.
Would he be gentle like the Dean I remembered?
Or would he be rough like the daddy I knew he was?
I worried my bottom lip, lost in the unknown of what was to come. I found that I liked that feeling, that it was exciting and arousing. I gasped when he stood up and lifted me in his arms as if I weighed nothing at all. He carried me out of the sitting room, back into the kitchen, and up a flight of stairs with virtually no effort. I hid my face in the crook of his neck, too lost in the all too consuming sensations hurtling through my body to worry about my surroundings.
There were only two things that mattered now.
Me.
And him.
I tightened my arms around his neck, and he hugged me even closer. Then he stopped and placed me down gently on an incredibly soft bed. I sucked in a breath as my scorched backside grazed against the fluffy white comforter, feeling the residual soreness from both his palm and the hard wooden spoon. I glanced up at him, suddenly self-conscious of the fact that I was naked.
He gazed down at me, reaching out and cupping my face with his hand. I sighed and pushed back against it.
“Daddy had to spank you, didn’t he?” he asked.
My pussy clenched at the word spank and I couldn’t understand why.
“Yes, Daddy,” I murmured.
“Do you know why Daddy did that?”
I shook my head, nervously pressing my thighs together even though he already knew that I was terribly aroused from the entire ordeal.
“Daddy cares about you, little girl. He doesn’t want to see you hurt, or sad, or anything like that as a result of you hiding things from him. He cares about you enough to punish you,” he murmured, and my pussy ached so much I had trouble not reaching down to touch it.
I opened my mouth to say something in return, but nothing came out.
“Will you trust Daddy to take care of you that way from now on, little girl?” he asked gently. His voice wasn’t forceful or hard or even remotely aggressive.
This time, I found the words to answer.
“Yes, Daddy. I trust you,” I replied and this time, I wasn’t afraid to look at him. Our eyes met and I searched those soulful blue irises. He meant every word.
