Please Daddy Read online

  A soft sigh of acceptance sounded as she went limp over his thigh. Keeping the thermometer in place far longer than necessary, he continued to twist, withdraw and replace it deeply within her for several minutes, enjoying every whimper, gasp, squeak and moan his actions produced. Finally, he pulled the tube from her and checked the reading. Her temperature was fine, and yet he’d do as he’d promised and continue to check for the next few days. Returning the tube to its box, he pulled his fingers from between her nether cheeks, allowing her little rosebud to return to its hiding place. The handprints that had decorated her bottom had faded to a light pink and would quickly disappear altogether beneath the crimson color that would soon cover her entire ass. Laying his palm against the center of her bottom, he splayed his fingers wide. She was so much smaller than he that his one hand practically covered the entire, plump surface. Giving her a little pat, he lifted his hand and began.

  Chapter Three

  It only took a half-dozen swats before her knees bent, calves folding back in an attempt to cover his target with her feet. “Naughty,” he scolded.

  “Daddy! It hurts!”

  “I should hope so,” he said, pushing her legs down and placing his free leg over hers. “If it didn’t, it would be a rather useless exercise now wouldn’t it?” He didn’t wait for an answer, landing a cracking smack against each of her upper thighs.

  “No! Daddy!” she wailed as his next swat caused her left cheek to lift and wobble when the stroke connected to that very tender area he considered her sweet spot. Ignoring her plea, he painted his handprint beneath her right buttock as well.

  “Little girls who fight their punishment get a harder spanking,” he said calmly returning his swats to her bottom, alternating left and right again and again, each stroke audible in the room as the cracking sound bounced about the abundant space.

  “I’m sorry! I’ll be go…good. Daddy! Daddy, please! Owie! Owie! Please, Daddy, please! No more spanking!”

  She squirmed and wiggled, attempted to swim off his lap, and continued to beg for him to stop. Instead, his hand continued to rise and fall in a steady cadence, covering the entire surface of her bottom for the second time after completing the first round.

  “Who decides when the spanking is over, Colette?”

  “Da…Daddy does,” she cried, her back arching after two harder swats landed.

  “That’s right. Only Daddy decides, and I promise I will keep smacking your bottom until you stop squirming about like a little worm.” Evidently she recognized the validity of his statement as it took no more than another half-dozen spanks before she went completely limp over his knee. Patting her rapidly reddening rear, he said, “That’s much better.” Yes, she’d submitted, but he expected renewed struggles with the next step of her discipline. Reaching for the last item on the table, he rotated the heavy wooden hairbrush until the flat backside faced her posterior.

  “Are you feeling warmer?” he asked, rubbing the surface of the brush over her quivering cheeks.

  “Ye…yes, sir, but…” her sobs had her words skipping about, “oh…please, please…oh, Daddy—”

  “Shh, you know you earned this.” Pulling her a bit tighter against his waist, he continued her punishment, moving from spanking with his hand to paddling her with the brush. It never failed to amaze him that different implements applied to the same naughty bottom not only sounded completely different, but evoked different cries from the one being punished.

  “Oh…oh, ow! Daddy!” Colette wailed, her head arching back as the brush smacked down, its thud preceding her cry.

  “You are not to ignore Daddy,” Dalton lectured, easily covering her bottom’s surface with four rapidly delivered strokes.

  “You are not to ignore others who care for you.” Another four strokes, another four distinct wails filled the room. “And, young lady, you are never…” Smack! “Ever…” Smack! “To even think about lying to your Daddy!” Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

  “I’m sorry!” she screamed, her hands leaving the chair legs to flutter behind her only to be instantly taken and pinned to the small of her back to keep them safe from injury.

  He had no doubt that her rather loudly proclaimed apology was filled with sincerity…just as it was every single time she found herself over her daddy’s knees, bent over a chair or lying over pillows piled on their bed. It didn’t take but two more smacks before he heard the next line in her litany.

  “I’ll never do it again, I pro…promise!”

  “I hope not but know that if you do, Daddy will never fail to spank you until your bottom is hot and raw. Are we clear?”

  “Ye…yes, Daddy! I-I’ll be a go…good girl.”

  Colette was already a good girl. She was the very best girl he could have ever dreamed of. But she was also a naughty girl with a husband, a Daddy, who would make it his duty to remind her that when she misbehaved, her bottom would pay a painful price. Another round of the painful strokes to the backs of her thighs, a final, solid smacking swat to each of her sit spots, a final set of wails cried to the ceiling, and the paddling was done. He allowed her to hang limply over his thigh, her tears dripping onto the Persian rug for a moment before he lifted her to stand between his knees.

  Wisps of her hair, turned a dark gold with her tears, clung to her cheeks. Pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, he held it to her nose and instructed her to blow. When her nose was clear, tears still sliding down her cheeks, he bent to kiss her forehead. He reached for the panties that had traveled further down her legs with each frantic kick to now hang off her right ankle. With a slight tug, they came free to leave her clothed in nothing but a coat of scarlet that glowed from the top of her buttocks down the backs of her thighs attesting to the fact that he’d done exactly as the panties lying on the floor had requested. Standing, he lifted her in his arms, her legs automatically going to wrap around his waist, her arms around his neck. She gave a soft cry burying her face in his neck as he patted her sore bottom. Dalton crossed the living room and continued down the long hall until he stood next to the king sized bed. He set her down and when she instantly knelt up with a slight hiss of pain, he shook his head, a slight smile on his lips.

  “Naughty girl. Sit properly on your little bottom.”

  “It burns, Daddy!”

  “Let that burn remind you to be a good girl while you perform your penance. Unless, of course, you want another spanking?”

  As quick as a flash, her legs came out to drape over the edge of the bed, her punished posterior flat, the scarlet flesh a beautiful spot of color against the ink black of the duvet. Her face flushed as she looked up at him, watching as he unzipped his pants.

  Removing his cock from its confinement, he fisted it in his hand, stroking down its length before stepping closer to the bed.

  “Open, tongue out,” he instructed. Once her sweet little tongue was properly presented, he laid the head of his cock on its surface. “Wording something so that it isn’t a total lie, still shows intent to lie. That’s what you did when talking about what a surprise it was that the weather had changed, isn’t it?”

  “Eth, Addie.” Though her answer was garbled, her open mouth keeping her from being able to move her tongue properly, he understood her.

  “Girls who use their mouths to even begin to lie to their daddies offer their penance using their lips and tongue, don’t they?”

  “Eth, Addie.”

  “That’s right. Keep your heinie flat on the bed. Let its ache remind you why you are making your penance. Wiggle about, lift your bottom or failing to do a proper job and, little girl, my belt comes off. Understood?”

  A last, “Eth, Addie,” came before he took a final step, his movement pushing his cock into her mouth, coming to rest at the back of her throat. Holding himself there, he saw her eyes begin to water, and yet her bottom didn’t move a single centimeter. He pulled back until the bulbous shaped head was again resting on her tongue.

  “All right, you may begin.” Once gi
ven permission, her lips closed tightly around his shaft and her tongue began to lap across his cockhead. He could feel it swirling and licking the drops of pre-cum that had begun to ooze from the moment he’d placed his cock on her tongue.

  “Eyes, Coco,” he reminded, watching as blue eyes lifted to his, no longer watering but filled with a look of such love that he felt his heart constrict. She accepted more of his length, her lips spread around his girth, her tongue never ceasing its movement as it took little licks against his hot flesh. Her cheeks puffed in and out as she suckled. He always loved it when she pleasured him orally, but with the submission in her eyes, the obvious desire to please her daddy, her struggling to remember not to move anything but her head and her tongue, defined this act for what it was. Penance. Just as she had offered her little bottom for his punishing hand and the brush, she now offered her mouth and throat for the final act necessary to atone for her decision to lie to him. The warmth surrounding his cock was heaven, and the sight of her big blue eyes looking up at him had his already stiff cock hardening further.

  It didn’t take long before her ministrations had his balls tightening. Pulling back, he watched her lips open, her tongue remaining beneath his cock as he stilled at the erotic picture she made. “Good girl,” he said, stroking a finger down her cheek before cupping her face between his palms. “Are you ready?”

  She nodded, her lips closing around his erection again, her eyes locked on his as she turned the control of the act over to him. Dalton slowly pushed forward, his cock nudging against the back of her throat. He stilled, allowing her a moment to adjust, to accept that he would push further, that he was going to claim not only her mouth, but her throat. With a final nod, he pushed into her throat, her muscles as she swallowed, constricting around him, causing him to groan. The absolute trust she offered him was a gift he’d never abuse. He rocked his hips forward, pausing, his cock buried deep before pulling back, allowing her a few deep breaths before sliding forward again…and again…and again. His hips rocked back and forth, his cock appearing and disappearing as he took his pleasure. Small hands clutched the duvet, spittle dripped from her chin, eyes watered and small, muffled sounds found their way free but none kept her from offering the penance owed for her disobedience. As much as he wished to prolong the act, to enjoy every movement, every swipe of her sweet little tongue, every kiss of her lips, he knew he would soon explode in her mouth.

  Instead of thrusting hard, he slowly pushed forward, enjoying the feel of her submission as she accepted his cock’s presence, swallowing again and again until her nose had pushed into the opening of his pants, buried in the wiry black hairs of his groin. “Don’t spill a single drop,” he reminded, his voice a bit husky with the promise of impending, exquisite bliss. Within a few more strokes, his bellow filled the room as he felt his cock jerk, his seed jetting to travel the length of his shaft, splattering against the back of her throat to slide down to fill her tummy. He pulled back as he groaned with the pleasure of his last eruption, watching the muscles of her throat as she swallowed, heard her dragging in deep breaths until the relaxation of her body told him she’d settled. Giving her time to regain her composure, he said, “Open.” She opened her mouth, her tongue again holding his cockhead on its surface, the only evidence of his seed a glistening sheen inside her mouth.

  “Very nicely done,” he praised, stroking her cheek. “You may finish.” Pulling completely free, he enjoyed the feel of her small hand as it moved to hold him, fingers encircling his flesh as she began to give little swipes of her tongue, making sure she cleaned him of every drop of his remaining seed. Once she was done, she gave his cockhead a final kiss, then tucked him back into his pants, zipping them up. He smiled and opened his arms. With a lunge, she launched herself at him.

  “I’m so sorry, Daddy,” she said as his arms wrapped around her.

  “I know, Coco. You did very well. All is forgiven.” He just held her, kissing the top of her head, her cheeks, and then her mouth before setting her on the bed, grinning when she squirmed but proud when she didn’t kneel up or attempt to relieve the pressure on her bottom. Moving to the dresser, he opened the top drawer, his eyes skimming the contents. Though most of her “Little” clothing was kept in her room across the hall, he kept several nightgowns and pairs of panties in his room. Making his choice, he shut the drawer and opened the one beneath. Taking the items to the bed, he smiled down at his love.

  “Arms up,” he said and then slid the gown over her head when she obeyed. Lifting her to stand, her hands on his shoulders to keep herself steady, she gave her first smile in the past hour when she saw the panties he was holding for her to step into. They had no halos, flowers, cartoon characters, or cute little animals. Instead of words, rows and rows of ruffles decorated the back. After stepping into them, he drew them up to her knees, bending forward to kiss her sex, tasting the honey she was totally incapable of keeping from flowing even when being punished. Her little moan, the tightening of her fingers on his shoulders and the little tilt of her hips told him of her need for release. Giving her another kiss, he pulled away and continue to pull the panties into place. Releasing them at her waist, he ran his hand over the ruffles, the white cloth not disguising the fact that she’d been well punished, the fabric appearing to be tinged pink as it hugged her spanked cheeks. Lifting her off the bed, he held her in the air, her facial cheeks quite flushed, her eyes advertising her lust.

  He smiled, gave her a quick kiss and then set her on her feet and patted her bottom. After running the same brush he’d used to blister her behind through her curls, he quickly had her hair plaited into pigtails. “We’ve made Mrs. Dryer wait long enough,” he said as he led her from the room. Her glance back towards the bed had him chuckling. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Not really,” she said.

  “Daddy’s cream does not count as dinner.” Adoring the color that instantly suffused her cheeks, he continued. “We will both have a nice meal and afterwards, I’ll be even more ready for my favorite dessert of honey and cream.” He watched her eyes light up and grinned while he added, “That is only if my darling girl eats every bite of her dinner.” He adored the fact that her cheeks flushed a brighter pink, and her smile lit her entire face. It was she who slipped her hand from his, skipping ahead in her rush to finish their dinner. His steps didn’t quicken as he rather enjoyed the view. The ruffles of her panties peeked out beneath the short white nightie, her reddened thighs contrasting vividly making just as exquisite a view as did the sight of this woman when dressed in an elegant gown for any one of the many formal events they attended. Reaching the dining room, he grinned seeing her standing by her chair waiting as required. Pulling out the chair, he then lifted her onto it, smiling again at the slight moan landing on her bottom brought from her lips. Dalton bent to kiss the top of her head before seating himself as Mrs. Dryer brought in their meal.

  Chapter Four

  When Daddy had finally set his napkin next to his plate and stood, Colette wanted nothing more than to leap from her chair. The fact that it had been uncomfortable sitting on her bottom was only one reason. With every single bite of her dinner, she’d imagined the man seated next to her taking a nibble of his own…of her flesh. The panties he’d just put her into were quite damp with her salacious thoughts and the fact that he’d grinned as he lifted her onto his hip assured her that he was well aware that his little one was aroused. It had been hard not to protest when he’d returned them to the master bedroom but didn’t immediately toss her onto the bed and fall upon her to enjoy, as he’d stated, his dessert. The disappointment was only momentary as he carried her into the adjoining bath and she saw that the large claw-footed tub was not only full, wisps of steam could be seen making their way into the atmosphere despite the mounds of bubbles attempting to hold them prisoner.

  It had taken a few minutes for him to free her hair of their braids, only a second to pull her nightgown over her head before time seemed to warp as her panties were s
lowly, very slowly lowered.

  “What do we have here?” Dalton asked, his hands keeping her panties at her knees where they had turned inside out. “Did my little one have an accident?”

  “Daddy!” she said, her face feeling hot and her stomach filling with butterflies.

  “What, ladybug? Look at these little panties. Why they are soaking wet.” He looked up at her, the ignorance he attempted with the widening of his eyes ruined with the quirk of his lips and the dimple appearing in his cheek. One of his hands moved to cup her dripping sex as he continued the pretense. “Goodness, Coco, you are positively dripping.”

  “Oh, Daddy,” she moaned, squirming at the delicious feel of his thick finger that was running along the seam of her sex.

  “Well, what else is Daddy supposed to think if not that his little girl didn’t make it to the potty on time? Perhaps I should tell Mrs. Dryer to pack some diapers for our trip.”

  The butterflies that had taken flight with his touch began to dive bomb in her tummy at his words. Had he said diapers? Just the thought of the possibility had her breathing quicken. What if a suitcase burst open to spill the diapers across the floor of the airport? Oh, God, what if some TSA agent decided to choose them at random for a full luggage check? She’d just die if some stranger held up an adult sized diaper and asked for an explanation of its presence in their suitcase. Knowing her daddy, she could easily imagine him informing the agent and anyone standing near that it was quite obviously a diaper for his “little one.” And finally, what if her daddy were serious and decided that she would be diapered? Though he’d often spoken of his desire to put her into diapers, it was not something he’d done yet. While the thought of wearing a diaper and being regressed into an age that would include being held in his arms and fed from a bottle wasn’t completely abhorrent to her, it was still not something they had yet tried. Deciding that perhaps ignorance was indeed bliss, she simply gave another soft moan as he pushed a fingertip inside her pussy.