by Fields, Sara
“I’d like that,” I said. While I wanted to see the town, I also wanted to look for avenues in which I might be able to disappear without a trace.
“Why don’t we go tomorrow?” I added.
“I have to go out of town on business for a few days. I get back on Friday evening. We can go together on Saturday morning,” he answered.
“Oh. Where are you going?” I asked.
“Out of town,” he replied curtly.
My gaze flashed up to his, trying to figure out his sudden evasiveness. He leaned down and placed his elbows on the counter, capturing me with those steel blue eyes of his. I ground my teeth together in a quick moment of frustration before I remembered myself and smiled again.
“Fine. Keep your secrets,” I responded with as much sass as I could muster, and he cocked his head with amusement at my efforts.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he replied with a smirk.
I laughed softly. He was going to play it that way.
“I don’t have any more secrets,” I lied and the look that followed told me that he knew I wasn’t telling the truth. He didn’t even answer me as he turned back to the stove and put his own plate together. I sat there in silence as a wave of uncertainty poured over me. The skin across my backside prickled and I turned back toward my plate, staring at the deliciously cooked eggs in front of me.
Why did I feel guilty about lying to him? I’d done it time and time again with each one of my marks, so why did I feel this way with him?
Was it just because I was worried Daddy would spank me?
No, I think it was more than just that. I took a bite of my eggs, mulling it over in my head.
I was afraid that he’d end up hating me in the end. I feared the second time more than anything else.
I did know why too.
Because I cared for him. I cared far more than I was supposed to.
I speared a bite of eggs with far too much gusto, and he chuckled.
“Enjoying your breakfast?”
“It’s delicious,” I replied.
“Would you like that mimosa, little girl?” he asked.
“I would,” I said.
He cleared his throat.
“I would, Daddy,” I replied.
“Careful, my feisty little girl,” he warned. “You’re making Daddy’s cock hard.”
My sassy retort died on my lips to be replaced by a heated blush. That had legitimately caught me off guard and I couldn’t hide the fact that it turned me on to be scolded so openly in such a dirty manner.
I stared at my plate instead, not wanting him to know how much his words affected me and knowing he probably did anyway. I picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled at the edge, only braving a look toward him when it felt safe enough.
He grinned perceptively and I looked back down almost as quickly. I wanted to disappear and just when I thought I couldn’t take any more of the feeling of his eyes on me, he walked over to the fridge and took out a small pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice and a bottle of champagne. I watched him more closely now. He popped the bubbly and slowly poured a flute about two thirds of the way full. He filled the rest with the juice and carefully slid it across the granite to me.
Carefully, I wound my fingers around the stem and lifted it to my lips, sighing softly in pleasure as the brilliantly decadent flavors washed across my tongue.
“Better than I remember,” I said, and his grin widened even further.
“Good. I leave in a few hours, but you have the run of the house. I’ll leave the numbers for my personal chef and anyone else you might need. There’s a library, a movie room, and a game room on the lower level,” he explained.
“You’re not going to leave me chained up somewhere while you’re gone?” I asked carefully.
“Should I?” he questioned playfully.
“No,” I answered swiftly. His cheeky arrogant grin made my clit throb unwelcomely and I tried my best to ignore it. There was a certain dark glimmer in his eyes, and I wished I could figure out what that meant.
Instead of saying anything more, I just finished my breakfast instead. There was a tense silence between us as we both ate our fill until our plates were empty. I picked up the cocktail and he took my plate after that.
“So, you’ll be back Friday?” I finally asked, unsure why the thought of him leaving for just a few days saddened me. I should be focusing on the fact that it would allow the perfect opportunity to escape. I shouldn’t be thinking about the fact that his overwhelming presence wouldn’t be surrounding me and making me feel whole for the first time in my entire life.
I faked a smile. His brow furrowed slightly, but it passed so quickly that it felt like I’d imagined the whole thing.
“Yes. I’ll be back Friday afternoon and I’ll take you to dinner at my favorite restaurant in town.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” I lied, painting on a happy face.
“Yeah. Me too,” he replied softly.
He put the dishes in the sink and started washing them himself.
“I didn’t think a man like you washed dishes,” I teased.
He glanced back at me with a grin.
“I do a lot of things that may surprise you,” he said.
Like spank naughty little girls with your belt after you make them call you Daddy.
I shivered, trying so hard to ignore the wetness that had soaked through the cotton fabric of my panties. He must have seen because he finished washing and drying the dishes and turned back to me. I drained the rest of my mimosa in one large gulp, trying to quell my sudden raging anxiety even though it did anything but.
“Stand up, little girl,” he commanded, and I narrowed my eyes in confusion.
He rounded the end of the island slowly, keeping his eyes on me. He wore the same expression that he’d had when he demanded my obedience in the shower and almost instinctually, I climbed out of my chair. When he came up behind me, his fingers grazed along my shoulder and slowly curled around my throat. I closed my eyes, reveling in the way those fingers felt against my skin and hating it all the same.
His other hand curved around my waist.
“Daddy expects his little girl to behave while he’s gone,” he whispered in my ear and a shudder raced down my spine. With his chest pressed against my back, I knew that he could feel it too. His lounge pants did nothing to conceal the erection hidden within them and I could feel every long inch of it against my backside. My mouth went dry, and I clamped my lips together in an effort to contain my sudden need to beg him to bend me over the counter, rip down my jeans, and fuck me so hard that I would feel it until he returned from his trip.
“When Daddy’s away, little girls will play,” I teased and his hand dipped lower to cup my pussy. He patted me there several times with the flats of his fingers and I was unsure if he intended to tease me or warn me of what was to come.
I remembered how his palm had felt against my wet folds and I swallowed anxiously when I imagined those fingers would feel like if he decided to truly punish me there.
My pussy clenched down hard. He unbuttoned my jeans and slid the zipper down. Casually, his fingertips dipped beneath the line of my panties and I sucked in a breath as his rough skin brushed against mine. He captured my clit between two fingers, and I gasped audibly as a jolt of electric pleasure coursed through me.
I tried to push away, although his arms were enough to keep me captive against his large form.
“If you touch this little pussy while I’m away, naughty girl, I’ll have to spank it bright red,” he warned, and my clit pulsed right underneath his fingers.
What was wrong with me? Why were his threats turning me on?
“I’m used to doing what I want, when I want,” I scoffed, and he pinched my clit hard. I keened out loud at the unexpected blossom of pain in between my thighs.
He pushed my jeans roughly down my hips, leaving my panties in place. Those didn’t last long though.
Q
uickly and efficiently, he tore my underwear down and bent me over the island with his fingers still lightly pinching my clit. His other hand descended down the cleft of my cheeks, catching me by surprise as his knuckle just grazed over my bottom hole before he slid a single finger inside my pussy.
I gasped. I was embarrassed because the sound was something between a cry and a moan.
“Maybe I should schedule for a little more time on Friday before dinner. Perhaps you’re going to need to spend it over Daddy’s knee,” he scolded as he circled my clit firmly. I struggled against him and he pinned me harder against the island as a result.
“No!” I exclaimed.
“You’re protesting an awful lot for a little girl with a pussy this wet at just the mention of being punished by Daddy’s hand,” he mused, and my mouth opened and closed without a single smart-assed retort.
He slid a second finger into my pussy, and I groaned, unable to keep quiet. When his fingers started to flutter deep inside me at the same time that his other hand worried my clit, I couldn’t stop myself from crying out loud with pleasure. With his expert fingers, it didn’t take long for me to feel as though I was approaching the edge of a reluctant release.
“Oh, please,” I sighed.
“What is it, little girl?” he asked.
I very nearly growled at him, but I held back for fear he’d leave me on the edge and never let me come at all.
“I want to come,” I pleaded.
He pinched my clit, and he didn’t even need to correct me verbally for me to figure out what I’d done wrong.
“Please let me come, Daddy,” I murmured, my voice lowering to a soft purr that didn’t sound anything like me. I was trembling against him and that transferred to the words escaping my lips too.
Why did he make me feel so vulnerable? Why had I asked him for permission in the first place? And why did I keep calling him Daddy?
“I don’t think you want it enough, little girl. Daddy wants to really hear you beg for it,” he demanded, and I hated how his words made my knees go weak.
No one was here. No one would hear me say those words. The only ones that would know would be me and him and right now, that was all I could handle.
He kept teasing me, over and over again. He’d bring me right to the edge of release with firm pressure, then he would back off and I’d whine as the cruel bite of denial eventually followed. Each time, his refusal to allow me orgasm grew more painful until my legs were shaking, and my cries turned desperate.
“Please, Daddy, please let me come on your fingers,” I begged.
He was silent.
“Daddy, please,” I wailed. I couldn’t control the way my hips were writhing anymore, and I was only vaguely aware of the fact that he was holding me just far enough away from the counter’s edge so that I didn’t hurt myself against it.
Why was he so kind when he could be so mean?
My body shuddered as he worked me to the edge again and a pitiful sounding cry escaped my lips. I wanted to come, and I wanted it badly.
“Please, Daddy,” I cried.
“Will you be a good girl for Daddy while he’s gone?” he pressed, and I shivered hard as his fingers pulled back again. I sucked in a pained breath and wheezed as I tried to control the raging need within me.
“Yes, Daddy,” I whimpered.
“Good girl. Now come hard for Daddy,” he demanded.
In seconds, my body started to rise again, and I couldn’t help it as the first tendrils of orgasm finally began to pull at my senses. With two fingers in my pussy and at least another two directly on my clit, I couldn’t have stopped its inevitability if I tried.
I knew it was going to be hard because my thighs started to quiver, and I couldn’t make them stop. I could feel it beginning deep in my core and my inner walls greedily clutched at his thick knuckles as I hurtled toward it.
“Oh, please, Daddy,” I moaned, and he growled against my ear. I could feel his iron-hard cock against my thigh.
“As you are coming for Daddy, I want you to be thinking about how you’re going to get down on your knees and thank Daddy properly after he’s done with this needy little pussy,” he hissed.
I shuddered hard against him.
“With my mouth, Daddy?”
“Yes, little girl. You’re going to take everything Daddy gives you, aren’t you? You’re going to swallow my cock just like a good little girl is supposed to,” he growled as his fingers started moving faster and faster inside me.
My body clutched at him with open desperation and nothing I could have done would have stopped that orgasm even if I tried.
I rode his fingers the best I could, and I squeezed my eyes shut as my release finally took hold of me. I wailed and writhed against that counter, not caring that someone could probably see me through the window across from me or that there might be other people in the house that I didn’t know were there. I screamed as I came for him, digging my nails into the granite beneath me.
When I came once, he didn’t even slow. At this point, that didn’t surprise me, but the intensity of each orgasm after that still did.
I could feel my pussy clutch at his fingers, and I shuddered as the exquisite pleasure he gave me coursed through my veins. The building fire stoked higher and higher until at long last, I came for a second time with a harsh shudder.
“Daddy,” I wailed.
“That’s it, little girl. Come hard for Daddy,” he instructed, and I couldn’t stop the surge of obedience rattling through me.
Why was I like this?
“It makes Daddy’s cock very hard to feel your pretty little pussy tightening around my fingers every time you come for me,” he added, and I shattered with a third orgasm more powerful than all the rest.
“Two more, little girl,” he demanded, and his fingers pressed even more firmly against my clit. I soon realized that he was being gentle with those first few orgasms. He was getting rough, and I knew these final orgasms would blur the lines between pleasure and pain and become something in between.
He added a third finger and my pussy burned from the painful stretch. He thrust into me hard, and I keened, unable to stop myself from letting him know how much it was beginning to ache.
“It hurts, Daddy,” I pleaded.
“I know, little girl. It’s supposed to,” he countered, and my body blazed hot. The fourth orgasm slammed into me without warning, and I screamed through every second of it.
Then he got even rougher.
His fingers slammed into me over and over as I suffered through my pleasure. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling a warm blanket of arousal burst over me at the same time I shattered with pain from the forced releases.
My clit throbbed and I could feel the way my nipples were pebbling in my bra, desperate to be touched. Boldly, I grasped my left breast with my hand and squeezed just a little as that final orgasm finally burst over me.
I felt like I was a train hurtling off its tracks and I couldn’t make it stop.
I screamed as my legs trembled again. His fingers got harder, rougher and then I was lost in the black void of pleasure that swirled around me and wouldn’t let go until it destroyed me.
And it did. It obliterated every last waking thought in my mind.
Every muscle in my body seized tight and I rode out that orgasm on his fingers, writhing as I quivered under the intensity of the endless bliss buried deep inside me that only he seemed to be able to let out.
When that orgasm finally faded, I shook against the counter for several moments before he pulled his fingers from my sore pussy and I just lay there, well used and satisfied.
“On your knees, little girl,” he said firmly, but gently enough that I found it somewhere inside myself to obey him. I pushed my palms against the counter and stood up. I reached for the waistband of my jeans, intending to pull them up and cover myself, but he knocked my hands away.
“I want that little pussy bare when you’re on your knees for me, little girl,
” he said darkly, and my pussy clenched down hard even though I’d already come five times.
I blushed heavily, a little embarrassed that my jeans and my panties were down around my knees. It felt very naughty, and I chewed my lip anxiously.
He lifted his hand, showing me the glistening wetness that covered his fingers and I gulped.
“Open your mouth. You’re going to clean these off first,” he instructed, and I felt myself flush even more hotly at his words. My face practically felt like it was on fire.
Even though I was reluctant to obey, I opened my lips, and he slid those slickened digits into my mouth, slowly and steadily as if he wanted me to taste every molecule of my arousal. I shuddered as the sweet musky flavor washed over my tongue and I whimpered softly as I closed my mouth around his fingers.
“That’s a good girl,” he crooned, and a sudden warmth came over me from his praise.
I started to suckle those fingers, carefully swirling my tongue around them as I tried to gather every drop of my own wetness. Soon enough, he grew impatient, and I knew what the reason was.
His cock was hard as iron against my hip.
“Take my hand, little girl. It’s time for you to thank Daddy for your orgasms,” he ordered, and my entire body shuddered hard with desire.
He wanted me to take him in his mouth, but the part that surprised me was that I wanted to do it too.
I took his strong, steady hand in mine. Slowly, I lowered myself down to my knees, suddenly grateful there was a throw rug beneath for me to kneel on.
I’d never taken his cock in my mouth before. It’s not something he wanted when he was just one of my marks. It’s not something I pushed for either.
Blowjobs weren’t sexy for me.
Until now.
Not until Daddy.
He pushed down his pants and freed his cock to my view. My mouth watered and I found myself incapable of words as I imagined my lips opening and the taste of him mixing with my own arousal on my tongue.
I fidgeted a little, finding myself a bit anxious as it occurred to me just how big his cock was. My mouth was small, and he was so massive.
