“That you enjoy every…single…second of it. And so does Daddy.”
I swallow hard and he snaps his fingers, pointing to the floor again as if the threshold of my door is an invisible force field that he’s not permitted to cross. I actually appreciate that he doesn’t just come in my apartment uninvited, even though he seems to be saying, and doing, whatever else he wants right now.
My apartment is almost functioning as a safe world, a safe place, but the problem is despite a dangerous past I’m drawn to it. Freud or Jung or whoever would probably have a field day with me, or maybe even more likely Friedrich Nietzsche who once said, “The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous plaything.”
Mr. Nietzsche may have been a bit off about men wanting danger and play…because women want it too.
“You can’t make me come.”
“That’s right, little one,” he says not missing a beat. “But the thing is you want to come. Curiosity killed the cat, and that won’t happen here, but I can promise you the little kitten in front of me wants to test the theory about having nine lives. And I can promise you Daddy will make you feel more alive than you ever have.”
“That’s a big claim, Daddy.”
“That’s not the only thing of Daddy’s that’s big,” he says, and my eyes rake over his body seeing his throbbing need pressing against his pants nearly half way down his leg.
“Now, naughty girl. Are you going to come to daddy and face the consequences like a little rule breaker should, or are you going to make daddy come get his innocent little lamb and drag her, kicking and screaming, to the slaughter himself?”
“You’re mean, Daddy, but I don’t think you’ll come get me. You won’t, you won’t, you won’t.”
“Oh yes I will,” he says, stepping across the threshold like the invisible wall protecting me never existed and I take off running, but my apartment is so small there’s nowhere to go.
He scoops me up easily and I kick and scream, pounding my fists into his back and it does absolutely nothing. He puts me down on my back and pins me, leaning in close and whispering in my ear, “It’s time Daddy spanked you, to teach you what it means to mind.”
His warm breath slides across my neck, causing goosebumps, as his words turn my panties into a sopping wet mess.
In one swift maneuver he slides onto the futon and flips me over so I’m face down across his lap.
“Now I’m going to teach you what happens when you don’t listen to Daddy.”
“No Daddy.”
“Oh yes…oh fucking hell yes.”
And just as the last word leaves his mouth his first spank finds my ass and I lurch forward, the stinging feeling oh so good.
“I’m a bad girl, Daddy. Teach me to mind.”
“Oh, I’m going to teach you all right,” he says, raising his hand again and bringing it down hard on my cheek but this time leaving his hand there, his strong, thick fingers kneading my butt like dough.
His thumb is dangerously close to my slit and I know he can feel my wetness, through my skirt and panties.
“This pleated skirt is providing too much padding. It’s as if you knew you were going to get spanked today, Little Peaches.”
I feel a cool breeze as he yanks my skirt up and his hand comes down on my razor thin cotton panties and I yelp.
“That’s more like it.”
“Is everything okay in here?” a voice says from the door. “Oh shit!”
“Go the fuck away!” Daddy growls and the man takes off running in the other direction.
And just like that the spanking stops.
“Daddy made a mistake. He should have shut the door first, but at least the man couldn’t see anything, not even your face, because of the angle of the futon.”
He pulls me onto his lap and brings my head into his chest, his hand on the back of my head gently stroking my hair.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”