Daddy Dom and the Bad Girl

by Kitty Jones

  Daddy Dom and the Bad Girl

  Kitty Jones

  Copyright 2019 by Kitty Jones

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Epilogue

  Author

  One night.

  That's what I've agreed to.

  One night for him to dominate me.

  One night for him to discipline me.

  One night for him to punish me.

  Because I'm a bad girl and I need my Daddy Dom.

  Prologue

  Heather

  I stand in the shadows and watch as the man moves carefully toward his submissive. She’s trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, only instead of stuffing and gravy, she’s covered in fabric and lace. She’s decadent in every way, and he is going to devour her.

  I see the way he moves around her.

  His eyes never leave hers, like some sort of beautiful dance.

  And then he speaks.

  The music in Club Shadows is pounding. It’s loud. It’s heavy. It’s much too noisy to be able to hear anything the couple is saying to one another, but I see his lips moving, and I can see what he’s asking her.

  Are you ready, princess?

  She doesn’t say a word.

  She opens her mouth and closes it again because she’s smart, and this isn’t her first time playing with a big, bad Dom. She knows that if she says she’s ready, he’s going to laugh. There’s no way she could be ready for what lies in store.

  Not this time.

  Instead, she takes a deep breath.

  Then she nods, but it’s almost as if she’s reassuring herself that she can handle whatever the man has prepared for her. She knows that it’s going to be a lot to bear. It always is.

  “Like what you see?” A familiar voice whispers in my ear.

  I don’t even have to turn around to see who it is because he’s always with me all of the time. No matter what I’m going through, no matter how long it’s been since I walked into the club, he’s with me.

  I can feel him.

  “Yes,” I say.

  Peter stands behind me and places a hand protectively on my hip. If I move back just a little, I’ll be able to rub against him, but I know better than to tease a Dom.

  Especially one like him.

  “She’s very sexy,” he murmurs, and I keep my eyes focused on the scene in front of me. The woman is a lovely. Her hands are bound in front of her and her eyes are wide with nervousness and excitement. The Dominant moves around her, speaking to her, touching her. He undoes the buttons on her dress and pulls her breasts out.

  Then he flicks them: first one, and then the other.

  “Yes,” I agree. “She is.”

  For just a moment, I wish it was me up on the stage, but with Peter instead of the other man. For just a brief second, I let myself wonder what it would feel like to have his hands touching me the way this Dominant is touching his partner.

  “Do you like watching them, Heather?”

  “You know I do,” I breathe out.

  “Are you turned on?”

  “Yes.”

  He strokes up my sides a little, and I bite my lip to keep myself from asking for more. Peter isn’t going to take any liberties with me. He’s much too polite and well-bred for that sort of thing. No, he’ll do something else instead.

  He’ll make me ask him.

  Beg him.

  I move back, just a little, so that my bottom is rubbing against his cock. He’s hard, and I wiggle it a little bit.

  “Do you like what you feel, little girl?” He murmurs in my ear. He knows exactly what I’m doing, exactly how much this is turning me on, but he’s not making me stop.

  On the contrary, he’s letting me take this exactly as far as I want to.

  The problem is that I want more.

  I want all of it.

  I rarely play at the club. I love to come watch people and sometimes I’ll participate in a scene, but I haven’t found someone here I truly connect with. I’m a single submissive, which is good if you like partying and threeways. Club Shadows has been a wonderful place for me to connect with other people, and I’ve definitely gotten out of my comfort zone sexually.

  But I haven’t let myself fall for anyone.

  And I haven’t let myself play with anyone I find really, really attractive.

  Like Peter.

  There’s something about him that sort of terrifies me. There’s something wonderfully mysterious, and it’s not because he’s tall, dark, and delightfully Dominant. It’s something else.

  “I like feeling your cock,” I say boldly.

  His hand moves up my hip to my belly, and he rests it there.

  “I like feeling your bottom grinding against me,” he says.

  “You’re making me wet with all this dirty talk,” I tell him.

  We’re both watching the scene in front of us, but we’re sort of making our own little encounter now. Peter is the kind of Dominant partner who will push me if we ever play together. He’ll push my boundaries and he’ll make me re-evaluate everything I know and believe. He’ll believe in me, and he’ll take care of me, but he won’t be afraid to get me out of the zone I want to be in.

  I shouldn’t play with him.

  I shouldn’t turn around and drop to my knees for him.

  I shouldn’t beg him to take off my clothes and fuck me until I scream.

  I shouldn’t do any of these things.

  But I want to.

  I turn around and look up at him. He seems a little surprised, but then a mischievous smile spreads on his face. I hook my arms around his neck, and I push up on my toes, and I kiss him. I kiss him as much as I want to, and he kisses me right back. He grabs my chin and directs the kiss in a way that pleases him, and then he kisses me just a little bit more.

  Yes, I think playing with Peter is a very, very bad idea.

  It’s a dangerous idea.

  But it’s a risk I just might have to take.

  Chapter One

  Heather

  Peter Montgomery is not the kind of man you say “no” to.

  At least, that’s what I’ve been told.

  And since when did I ever do what I’ve been told?

  I guess that’s what makes me a bratty sort of submissive. I’m not afraid to take what I want. I’m not afraid to stand up for the things that turn me on. I’m not afraid to backtalk the one man who could tan my hide for it.

  And I guess that’s how I ended up standing on Peter Montgomery’s doorstep on a Saturday night in August.

  I probably should have said “no” to his offer. It was a bit ridiculous, to be honest, but maybe the reason no one says “no” to Peter isn’t because he’s scary, but because his offers are too good to resist.

  At least, I think that’s what my problem is.

  When he approached me at the sex club we both play at, I figured he’d ask me on a date or to play with him sometime casually. I didn’t expect his offer. Not only was it precise and specific, but it involved cash.

  A lot of cash.

  Professionally, I’m not a hooker. Far from it. Besides, Peter said tonight wouldn’t involve sex unless I begged him for it. Cocky, much? Yeah, he’s the kind of guy who knows exactly how good-looking he is and he definitely uses that to his advantage.

  But I’m definitely not going to beg Peter Montgomery for anything.

  Least of all, sex.

  I look up at the mansion in front of me. It’s definitely a mansion. There’s no skirting around that. It’s not a
big house or a large single-family home. Nope. Fucking mansion. Rich dudes. For fuck’s sake. The King of the Dungeon also happens to be incredibly wealthy. I probably should have suspected as much, but I didn’t.

  That’s the thing about playing in my world.

  In the dungeon, nobody cares if you’re wealthy or poor or somewhere in-between, and there’s generally not a way to tell, anyway. Everyone dresses pretty similarly except for the submissives. We don’t really wear anything at all.

  I take a deep breath and ask myself one last time if this is where I want to be.

  Is this what I want to be doing tonight?

  Not really.

  I’ve got a Netflix special with my name on it and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s in the freezer, but money is money, and I also have bills to pay. Graduate teaching assistants don’t make nearly as much as we ought to. This is going to help take a chunk out of my student loans and credit card payments.

  Here goes nothing.

  I knock on the door and wait anxiously for Peter to appear. I look around, but there’s no one outside to notice me. Not that he has any neighbors who can see the doorway, of course. Peter’s house is surrounded by huge stone walls and this ominous-looking gate that was open when I arrived. I heard it shut a few minutes ago, so I know it’s controlled by somewhere in the house. He’s probably peering out of his house pushing buttons or something. I don’t know.

  I knock again and this time, I hear footsteps inside.

  Then the door opens and I look up at the man who has done more than just ordered me to come to his house tonight. I look up at the man who has purchased me: body, mind, and soul.

  At least until tomorrow morning.

  “Good evening, Heather. You’re right on time.” He smiles at me and I meet his gaze. The evening hasn’t started yet. I don’t need to avert my eyes or show him respect as a Dominant. Not just yet. Once I’m inside. Once the doors have closed, then I’ll show him just how fucking submissive I can be. Not until then, though.

  Not a moment sooner.

  He cocks his head thoughtfully and points to the ground.

  “On second thought,” he says. “Why don’t you crawl to the living room? It’s the second door on the right.” He steps aside and waits, watching me. So that’s how it’s going to be. So much for a reprieve or reviewing the terms of our agreement or a Q&A where I get to find out exactly what he’s going to do to me.

  I know better than to disobey Peter right off the bat. I’ve known him long enough to know that he’s got a strong hand and he’s not afraid to use it. Fuck, I saw Olivia’s backside after they played last weekend. I should have known better than to agree to this, but money is money, and I’m a sucker for easy pay.

  Something tells me that I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.

  Something tells me this isn’t going to be as easy as I thought it was going to be.

  I glance around one more time. There’s no one here. Even if there was someone looking in the shadows, Peter would expect me to obey him anyway. So far, I’m not making the best first impression, which is unfortunate because I do actually want to get paid.

  I drop to my hands and knees and look up at Peter.

  He waits, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yes, Sir,” I murmur, and I start to crawl forward. Peter puts his foot out and blocks me, though, keeping me from entering.

  “Oh, Heather,” he says. “Did you really not read our contract?”

  Then I remember.

  Apparently, he’s going to start enforcing the terms of our agreement from moment number one.

  Fuck.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I read it. I just forgot.”

  “How are you supposed to address me tonight, Heather?”

  I gulp.

  Somehow, the word is embarrassing on my lips and hard to say. It shouldn’t be. It’s just a word and it’s the one that puts me in my place. It reminds me that I’m a bad girl and that I’m not here for a date or a fun weekend to hang out with a buddy or a friend.

  Peter is more than just a partner this weekend.

  He’s a Dominant.

  This is a weekend of power exchange, of strength, of Dominance.

  “Daddy,” I whisper.

  “Ah, so you can remember,” he says. “Why don’t you apologize for your poor memory just a moment ago, Heather?”

  “I’m sorry, Daddy. I won’t forget again.”

  “See that you don’t,” he says. I crawl past him into the house and he swats my bottom as I do. Fuck. Maybe this is going to be harder than I thought.

  Chapter Two

  Heather

  Peter closes the front door and follows behind me. He stays back where I can’t see him. As a semi-experienced submissive, I know this is for two reasons. First, he’s testing me to see if I listened. If I find the living room on my own, he’ll know that I was paying attention and that I can obey. Second, he wants to see if I’ll look back at him. If I do, I’ll be punished.

  A third and probably incredibly beneficial reason is that he gets to see exactly what I’m wearing under my dress as I crawl.

  The answer is nothing.

  I’m wearing nothing.

  Maybe I should have played coy and worn panties, but that wasn’t part of the agreement, now was it? Nope. Peter wanted me in a dress and heels and nothing else, so that’s what he got. Only now as I’m crawling to his fucking living room, I’m wishing there was something to separate me from his steely gaze.

  Nobody says “no” to Peter Montgomery.

  This is probably because they’re scared of him.

  He’s a scary fucking dude.

  His eyes are stuck on my ass as I crawl across the floor. I’m sure he can see my pussy lips peeking out, too. It’s a tiny dress, after all. That’s what he wanted. He wanted me dressed to impress, so I went all out. Now, I’m a little embarrassed at the idea that he’s looking at me like this.

  It’s not like no one has seen me naked or something like that. I’ve been seen naked. I’ve slept with plenty of people both at the club and outside of it, but this?

  This is different.

  Intimate.

  Personal.

  Tonight, Peter is going to push me to my limits, and I’d do well to listen to him. I’d do well to obey him.

  I know better than anyone else that there are going to be serious consequences if I don’t.

  The entryway, like everything else here, is enormous. Peter’s home opens into a large foyer that transitions into a big, wide hallway. There are several doors on each side of the hallway, which must be at least 10 feet wide. Aside from a lengthy rug on the floor, the space is weirdly empty. At the end of the hall is a staircase that leads up, presumably to bedrooms.

  I want to ask him why there are so many doors in this hallway. Most mansions I’ve been in open to wide spaces. People like to have their guests walk in and feel amazed and awed. With Peter, everything is closed off. All of these rooms are separated from one another. There must be some sort of reason.

  It’s not my job to ask, though.

  It’s my job to fucking listen, so I crawl to the second door on the right and, like an obedient lapdog, I wait patiently for Peter – Daddy – to arrive. He doesn’t disappoint. He reaches over me and turns the knob. He pushes the door open and as I prepare to crawl into the room, he reaches down and runs his hand down my back and to my bottom. He slips his fingers under the hem of my dress and rubs them over my bare skin. His touch is like fire licking at my flesh and I wince both from pleasure and from fear.

  He doesn’t seem to notice.

  I crawl inside to the center of the room. It’s too dark for me to get a good look, but there’s a fireplace, a sofa, and several bookshelves with what look like novels on them. There’s a grand piano to one side of the room and lots of plants. So many plants. Why the fuck would anyone want that many plants in their home?

  Personally, I’ve got allergies and this is the place of nightmares, in my opin
ion.

  “Kneel up,” Peter’s voice draws me back from my thoughts. I do as he says.

  I wait with my hands plastered to my sides as he walks around me, circling me like prey. That’s what I am to him tonight. I’m his prey. That’s all right. I know the game and I understand what the score is. Peter is the one with all of the power tonight. Me? I’ve got a safe word and five digits worth of credit card debt. I’m not leaving here until I’ve done everything we agreed to.

  Even if it’s hard, I need this.

  Even if it’s scary, I can’t walk away.

  “When I first saw you at the club, I thought you were bratty,” he says. “Why would I think that?”

  I smirk.

  “Probably because I was teasing Master Caleb when he was punishing his submissive.”

  He makes a “tsk” sound and keeps circling me, staring at me.

  “For a naughty girl, you certainly are quite lovely to look at, aren’t you?”

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “Ah, you remember your manners,” Peter sounds pleased and a little surprised. “Perhaps tonight will be more pleasant than I imagined.”

  “How did you imagine tonight?” I ask quietly, although I may not want to know. I’m his until precisely 10:00AM tomorrow morning. I doubt that we’re going to spend much time sleeping. Peter seems like the kind of guy who, once he has someone in his sights, focuses on them entirely.

  Sleep is likely out of the question.

  “Well, I thought perhaps we could get to know each other.”

  Somehow, I manage to keep from rolling my eyes. What a cliché answer. I probably shouldn’t think that, but I do. Then I remember who I am and where I am and, perhaps most importantly, who he is.

  Peter Montgomery is one of the most powerful men in town.

  I would do well to remember that.

  I stay perfectly still as he circles me again. So he wants to get to know me? He’s certainly doing that with his eyes. They roam my body and I’m very aware of just how dangerous this situation really is. Peter is a shark. He’s a predator. He’s firm and he takes what he wants.

  But I’ve seen him at the club.