Her Shameful Confession

by Emily Tilton

  “Spanking?” she managed to whisper.

  Rick had nodded very slowly. “That’s right, Lindsay. When a little girl is old enough to have big girl time with a daddy like me, I make sure she understands what it means.”

  He had taken a step forward then, and Lindsay’s eyes had gone wide as she shrank back a little further onto his bed. Then she had seemed to realize that despite her alarm at what might happen there, she had come into the bedroom of the man she would learn to call Daddy, and she had sat down on his king-size bed—even if she had disobeyed his instruction to strip down to her panties.

  Rick had thought then, as he looked into her blue eyes, that he had never wanted to see a pair of panties as much as he had wanted to see Lindsay’s. The thought had crossed his mind of becoming a scary daddy, the kind of daddy who throws a girl over his knee and hoists her skirt to expose her panty-clad bottom, then rips those panties down and starts to teach her the lesson she needs.

  He had decided not to go down that path, then, on Lindsay’s first night of big girl time with her new daddy. He had instead taken a second step forward to bring himself nearly to the place right in front of Lindsay, where he would with his six-foot height loom over his little girl. Lindsay had trembled, but she had not cowered away any further.

  “What does it mean?” she had whispered.

  “What does it mean, Daddy,” he had corrected, making her lips part and her breath come in little pants. It had been the very first time he had told her to call him by that sacred name.

  “I...” she had started, and then she had swallowed hard. When she spoke again, her voice hardly rose to a whisper. “I can’t.”

  “You can,” Rick had said gently, knowing with complete certainty that resistance and need had arisen in Lindsay’s mind in nearly equal measure. The resistance would melt away, he had felt sure, as the need increased. “I’m going to be your daddy from now on, pumpkin.”

  “Oh, God,” Lindsay had whimpered, then. “What does it mean, Daddy? What does big girl time mean?” She had looked up at him with wide eyes, her lips still parted and her breath quick and shallow and needy. Her face had gone very red indeed.

  Rick had taken the final step, and he had put his hand out to cup Lindsay’s chin. She had whimpered and trembled, but she had also turned her face into his fingers, and rubbed her chin against them, like a sweet little kitten desperate for petting.

  “It means you and your daddy naked together, pumpkin. It means your daddy’s hardness inside you, the way your daddy wants it and the way he likes it.”

  “But...” she had whispered, her voice dreamlike now as she looked into his eyes. “But I...”

  Rick had felt sure he understood where her mind was going, so he had finished the thought for her.

  “But you didn’t take off your dress and your bra and your stockings, when your daddy told you to, did you?”

  She had shaken her head rapidly, the way a little girl does, and caught her lip in her teeth.

  “So what does little Lindsay need?” As he had spoken, Rick had brought his left hand to rest gently on Lindsay’s neck, and worked his fingers softly under the silky blue fabric of her pretty dress. She had shivered, and a deep crease had developed on her brow. When her voice had come, its tone had been higher than her usual speaking voice, and the single word she spoke had sounded adorably youthful.

  “Spankin’.” Lindsay’s eyes had dropped, and Rick had known she saw the bulge in his black pants. The light in his bedroom was dim, but he had thought her blush had returned in full force.

  Rick had responded with words of loving authority, making his purpose very clear but also wanting Lindsay to understand that he knew that she needed tenderness as well as firm-handed discipline. “That’s right, pumpkin. Daddy’s going to spank you now. Stand up.”

  Her knees had wobbled as she obeyed.

  “I don’t know what to do,” she had confessed when Rick had sat down on the bed, his face now level with hers.

  “I do, Lindsay,” he had said. He had put his right arm around her waist, then and begun to pull her toward him so he could bring her between his knees and upend her over his left thigh, but he had stopped when he felt her resist.

  “But...” she had whispered. “But how will... I mean, what are you going to do?”

  Part of him had felt so certain of her need for his loving discipline that Rick had almost responded by toppling her over his knee and showing her precisely what a naughty girl got from her daddy when she disobeyed him. But he had heard the anxiety in her voice, and he had decided he wanted to be the kind of daddy who talked things over with his little girl before he made her do as she was told.

  “I’m going to put you over my knee, pumpkin. Then I’m going to bare your bottom, and—”

  “Wait!” Lindsay had exclaimed, then, looking into his face with wide blue eyes. “I don’t... I didn’t... please, not... maybe not the first time?”

  Rick had nodded slowly, smiling sympathetically, but he had known exactly what she needed at that moment, much better he had felt sure than Lindsay did herself.

  “Pumpkin, it’s very important to me that you understand that the kind of discipline I give you is intimate, and it will always lead to more intimacy. I’m the kind of daddy who always has sex with a girl after I spank her.”

  Chapter Three

  In the shower, her tummy full of butterflies as she thought about what she would say to Rick at the airport when he kissed her hello, Lindsay remembered the first time her daddy had punished her.

  She remembered how it had felt when he told her that she didn’t get to say whether her panties stayed up or came down, whether that meant for spanking or for sex, and how hot her face had gotten. She remembered, her face getting warmer in the shower than even the lovely hot water running down her body could make it, how she had felt so scared about that first spanking, and yet had wanted it so very much though she couldn’t for the life of her have told Rick why—then or now.

  In the shower—longer under the warm water than she needed to be, now, since she had washed and conditioned her hair—her right hand found its way between her thighs, without Lindsay even realizing it. Her left hand rose to the nipple of her little right breast, too, as if at the memory of her daddy telling her he would always spank her on her bare bottom, and would always have sex with her afterward, she couldn’t stop herself from being naughty.

  She bit her lip. She had never played with herself in the shower before, and now, thinking of her daddy, and thinking of what he would do if she told him that she had used her helper in bed and had touched herself in the shower, she couldn’t stop.

  Her daddy would spank her. He would spank her so hard, much harder than he had done that first time when she had sat on the edge of his bed instead of taking her clothes off. She had wanted to see what would happen, though she hadn’t let herself imagine too far.

  Then he had come in, and he had made it perfectly clear what would happen. He had explained it all, but in a way that told Lindsay that as a naughty girl she must not think of escaping her punishment for disobeying her new daddy.

  Lindsay’s mind, so new to the feelings her daddy’s touch sent coursing through her body and to the way his embarrassing words affected her, had taken a little while to understand, when Rick said that he gave intimate discipline. When she had figured it out, though, and realized that he meant to take her panties down and wouldn’t recede from that intention, her face had blazed, and down below in her panties a fire had seemed to burn, too.

  “It’s time to go over my knee, now, pumpkin,” he had said then, and the arm around her waist had pulled her again, much more decisively now, as if he had explained as much as he meant to explain with Lindsay still upright and not where she belonged.

  She had given a tiny cry as she felt herself toppled, upended, with her arms and her face and her chest on his bed, her cheek against his gray comforter. She had struggled a little, only out of instinct, when she felt him
pulling up the skirt of her pretty blue dress, but he had held her in place with his left arm, so that he could tuck the skirt up and lay his hand on the seat of the polka-dot panties she had worn on a whim she hadn’t completely understood.

  Lindsay had a few pairs of lacy, sexy undies, but that night, though she had had a feeling Rick would see her without her clothes on for the first time, she had decided against them. Instead she had worn her favorites: the little-girlish ones with the little pink, blue, and yellow dots on a background of white cotton. Now she had blushed as she thought of her new boyfriend looking down at their seat, at his experienced eye looking at their youthful pattern.

  She had given another startled cry when she felt his hand there, on her bottom, rubbing a soft circle.

  “These are the kind of panties a little girl should wear when her daddy has to spank her,” he had said, the warm approval in his voice taking Lindsay by surprise. Somehow that warmth had snapped her so fully into the part of herself she would come to think of as little Linnie that she had felt like her daddy—whom she had trouble, then, remembering was also her boyfriend—should spank her, for disobeying him.

  Still, once little Linnie had acknowledged inside herself that she had earned this lesson from her firm-handed daddy, her fear of what her very first spanking would actually feel like made her squirm, and wail, “Please don’t take them down, Daddy! Please! Not on the bare!”

  “Hush, pumpkin,” Rick had said. “I’m going to start out spanking you over your panties, so you get an idea of what a spanking from Daddy means. It’s going to hurt, just like it should, but you’re going to figure out that you can take it—just like you should.”

  His hand had moved over her bottom, fingertips still making circles, but littler ones now, first on the right and then on the left. Suddenly Lindsay didn’t feel sure she didn’t want her daddy to take her panties down.

  “But like I told you a minute ago, a spanking from your daddy is an intimate thing. From now on, your underwear is going to come down when Daddy chooses, whether I mean to punish you or to have big girl time in your little pussy or in this young bottom.”

  She had gasped at the words, and then she had moaned because he had followed them with his hand there, cupping her shaved pussy and the place where her untried anus lay hidden between the curves of her bottom-cheeks. Lindsay had never had anal sex, and she had thought she never would. Rick couldn’t just make that decision for her, could he? But a firm-handed daddy took charge, didn’t he? If he decided little Linnie should have a penis in her bottom, she would learn to receive her daddy’s hardness there.

  The shameful thought had made her moan again under his gently squeezing hand. Lindsay had squirmed, and she had felt herself getting terribly warm and even a little wet. Her pussy had felt so different, after she shaved it, something she had thought she did on a whim, when getting ready for this fourth date with Rick. She had never done it before, but she had already decided on the polka-dot panties by that point, and something made her feel like a girl who wore those girlish panties on a date should have a smooth little pussy underneath them.

  In the shower, now, pushing away the thought that she would have to tell her daddy how naughty she was being, Lindsay fluttered her fingertips against her clit as the other hand, the one that had pinched her nipples, went behind her, down between her little bottom-cheeks, down into the valley, where her daddy looked sometimes and touched sometimes, when he said he needed to inspect her, or he needed to... to train her.

  Training little Linnie. Teaching little Linnie to be a good girl for her daddy. Training her bottom for Daddy’s pleasure.

  The little bottom Daddy had spanked for the first time that night, not delaying any further, after he had made it so clear that he intended to have sex with her after he punished her.

  Rick’s fondling hand had left her bottom and pussy, had risen from the polka-dot seat of her little-girl panties. Lindsay had gasped and cried out in fear. She had tried, panicking, to get off his knee, to stand up and run away.

  But her new daddy had clamped his left hand down firmly, and he had started to spank her. She had thought he might give her a single swat from his hand, so that she could understand what it felt like. He had said that he wanted her to get used to it, so maybe—Lindsay had hoped—he would go very slowly.

  Instead, he spanked Lindsay hard and fast, bringing his big right hand down over and over right on her sit-spot, right in the middle, low down on the seat of her panties. She had wondered if maybe Rick intended to make it some kind of, well, sexy spanking—like you sometimes saw in racy movies—slow and teasing and not really hard. Lindsay’s new daddy didn’t want to make it that kind of spanking, though: Lindsay’s daddy had decided she needed to learn her lesson for not taking off her clothes when big girl time had arrived. Lindsay’s daddy meant to punish her, and so he held her down as she wailed in pain at the sting in her little bottom, and he kept spanking her.

  She struggled enough so that he had to shift his grip slightly, but that made him spank her harder, moving to the right and then the left.

  “Hold still, pumpkin,” he commanded, and then, before she could even fully understand what he did, he pulled her panties down to the middle of her thighs.

  Lindsay had thought he would pause, that he would tell her he was going to bare her bottom. She had supposed she might still, well, get out of it somehow.

  But now her new daddy’s firm hand had started to spank little Linnie’s naughty little bottom-cheeks without the polka-dot panties to protect them. Dress up and briefs down, Lindsay Green had begun to get the kind of old-fashioned punishment disobedient girls needed, if they were going to become the little ladies they should be.

  She hadn’t been able to help kicking, but Rick had put his right leg over the backs of her knees, and he had taken her right wrist in his left hand and held it behind her back when she tried to cover her bottom, and he had kept spanking her.

  A little lady didn’t kick, did she? A little lady didn’t cover her bottom when her daddy decided she needed it bared and punished, did she? The thoughts had gone through Lindsay’s head even as she struggled helplessly against her daddy’s strong body. She had wailed and she had felt her eyes fill with tears, but when Rick had stopped at last, and her bottom felt as hot as the sun, she realized that he had spoken the truth: she had endured it, and—even with her backside freshly tanned—she had thought she could probably endure another one, if not right at the moment.

  She had hardly realized what her daddy had started to do, when she had felt his leg loosening its hold over her knees, and then his hand between her thighs, gently urging them apart. She had moaned softly, and she had gotten so wet that it had made her face nearly as hot as her bottom felt.

  “Good girl,” Rick had murmured. “Such a good girl for her first spanking.”

  But she had kicked! She hadn’t felt like a good girl then! How could she be...

  The wayward thought of protest had vanished into the sensation of her new daddy’s skillful hand doing a very, very big girl thing down there. His fingertips pressed at the place that blazed up the most, and his thumb pushed into the place that ached for something big and hard.

  “Oh, Daddy...” Lindsay whimpered. “Oh, Daddy... please.”

  “Are you ready to take off your clothes for big girl time now, pumpkin?”

  His fingers had made it so difficult even to think the answer, let alone say it, that Lindsay had taken a long moment to respond despite how very ready she felt.

  Then Daddy had taken his hand away, and she had heard a smile in his next words.

  “You’d better answer Daddy, pumpkin, or he’ll stop making your little pussy feel nice. Are you ready to obey your daddy?”

  Lindsay had given a forlorn cry, and turned her red face over her shoulder to look up at him, seeing his gentle eyes gazing back at her with, yes, a big smile on his lips.

  “Yes, Daddy. Please, Daddy, may I have big girl time now?”

>   Chapter Four

  On the flight back, Rick tried to work but, unsurprisingly for him by this point in his relationship with his wonderful little girl, he could only think of Lindsay. His daddy instincts told him with near-certainty what had happened: his little girl had masturbated, maybe right before he had called her. Now Rick had to figure out what to do about it. Contemplating the possibilities didn’t worry him at all, but it definitely did distract him quite a bit.

  Looking out the window as the Midwest passed far beneath, he saw Lindsay’s face, and he knew he would have to do his best to make sure that whatever happened tonight—even if Lindsay felt too embarrassed or scared to tell him about her naughtiness and nothing out of the ordinary happened at all—their relationship would progress because of it. That represented Rick’s first duty as her daddy.

  Beyond that bedrock of emotional reality, though, the mental process of balancing the pleasure they could get together from erotic play on the one side with his little girl’s inner well-being on the other sent Rick’s mind turning. He needed to do his best to ensure that Lindsay not get so embarrassed about playing with herself that she turned away from the sexual awakening he couldn’t help feeling proud at having brought about in her.

  He had a positive duty in that regard, too, because Rick—knowing full well that Lindsay’s newfound interest in ageplay would probably make her very horny at times she didn’t expect—had introduced the idea of the belt as a punishment for masturbation. He remembered that moment, how the need for more in her pretty blue eyes had instigated the threat, along with the promise that if she asked permission he would usually give it, and thinking that Lindsay would very likely feel much happier playing with herself if she knew her daddy said it was okay to touch her little pussy.

  Rick hadn’t at that moment calculated on this situation, where he hadn’t been available because of his meetings, and though Lindsay could have nevertheless have asked permission—and Rick would have given it—she obviously hadn’t wanted to disturb him. Now, if he had guessed the truth about what his little girl had done in bed that morning, some very interesting decisions would have to be made. They all arose from that one moment in his apartment, after he had fucked Lindsay for the first time.