Amaya's Old-Fashioned Daddy

by Dark Angel

  “Good girl,” Papa said, his hand smoothing over her hair, and lifting Amaya’s spirits just enough that she no longer felt like melting into a puddle of hapless misery. She’d almost been afraid that she’d pushed Papa too far and that he wouldn’t want her anymore.

  She still wasn’t sure what little demon inside of her had made her throw Teddy. It was just a thought that had been swirling ever since Marianne had mentioned it, but she hadn’t really meant to actually do it. And she certainly hadn’t meant to actually hit Papa when she did. Amaya just didn’t have much experience with throwing things, so she didn’t have very good aim.

  With her nose firmly in the corner, Amaya closed her eyes and listened to her Papa moving around her behind her. The air was cool on her hot backside, her nipples puckered and aching slightly after his little pinches, and half of her squirming was from the hot need between her legs and not the hot cheeks of her bottom. But the longer she stood there, thinking about what was to come - the hairbrush and the cane - the more anxious she became.

  Papa had only used the cane on her once, to show her how much it would hurt. It was a single, burning, stinging line of fiery licking at her flesh; that was how Amaya remembered it. Now she would have six of them - six of them! - on top of her already punished nates?

  “Amaya, stop squirming so much or I’ll come over there and give you something to squirm about.”

  Immediately, she froze, not wanting to add any more to her punishment. Her bottom burned. Her nipples throbbed. Her pussy squeezed and released emptily.

  The knock on the door made her jump.

  ******

  Frowning, Grant looked up from the work on his desk. Trying to finish it with Amaya in the room, working between her punishments, wasn’t ideal, but it was the best option he had at the moment. However, interruptions on top of Amaya’s misbehavior and his own enforced wait to pleasure certainly wasn’t going to help his mood.

  “Yes?” he asked, as the door opened. Across the room in her corner, Amaya shivered at the edge in his voice. It was a truly distracting sight, with her red bottom glowing beneath the bunched up skirt of her nightgown, which was resting atop the curve of her ass.

  Warren stood there looking… troubled. Which had Grant’s internal alarms going off immediately, since Warren was one of the most unflappable men Grant knew. It was why he was better suited to running the household with its myriad of small emergencies and Grant was better suited to running the company, which only had occasional emergencies.

  “You have a visitor, my Lord,” he said. “A Mr. Maricus Targe from Vericat.”

  “Maricus?!” Amaya asked, spinning around. Shock and horror was writ large across her face and her arms automatically moved to cover herself.

  “Corner!” Grant shouted at her, pointing. She spun around.

  At the same time, obviously having heard her voice, there was a shout out in the hall. “Amaya!”

  Before Grant could order Warren to take Amaya to her room, not wanting her to witness whatever was about to happen between him and whichever of her family members had hunted her down, his butler was pushed aside and the door flung open. In her corner, Amaya shrieked and her head turned to see what was happening - although she didn’t spin around this time. Her face went crimson as she stared at the young man who had just burst into the room.

  It was obvious they were siblings; they had the same golden-tanned skin, dark hair and eyes, and aquiline features. Small differences in the shapes of their faces and bodies made them more masculine and feminine respectively. Amaya’s brother was as handsome as she was beautiful. He was also slightly taller than her, much more heavily muscled, and quite furious and horrified going by his expression. He and Amaya apparently shared the same kind of impetuous, impulsive nature.

  Warren, regaining his balance almost immediately, grabbed the young man by the arm and twisted it up behind him, putting him into a restraining hold.

  “Let me go!” Maricus shouted. “You have no right!”

  “No, you have no right,” Grant said coldly. The young man froze at the sound of his voice, focusing in on him, anger evident in every line of his body. Off to the side, Amaya’s head whipped back around, firmly pushing her nose into the corner. Her hands crept back, almost as if she was at war with herself over whether or not she wanted to cover her bottom; her natural modesty and brother’s presence clashing with her training and desire to obey and please her Papa. Grant was pleased to see that the latter appeared to be winning. “Like your sister, you appear to have remained ignorant to the laws and customs of Hebe. Here, on Hebe, on the continent of Victoria, in my house, my word is law.”

  Drawing himself up, he glared at the young man, who appeared taken aback. But only for a moment. Then he held out a sheaf of papers that he clutched in the hand not currently wrenched behind his back.

  “Well there is still intergalatic law, and you are beholden to that as well,” Maricus said, his voice quivering with suppressed fury. “And that law says that my sister has been cleared of all charges. You can’t keep her prisoner here anymore.”

  “What?!” The word burst forth from Grant, Amaya and Warren all at the same time.

  Grant froze. Not just his muscles, not just his heart, but every fiber of his being, including his mind. Life without Amaya? Without his Princess?

  Also in shock, Warren didn’t resist as Maricus pulled away from him and turned towards his sister.

  “Holy… Argh!” Maricus immediately turned away, his hand coming up to cover his eyes. “Amaya where are your clothes?”

  Blushing furiously, Amaya immediately tried to cover herself, tugging her nightdress down and using her arms to shield her privates. Grant felt his heart sink as she reverted from a chastised little of Hebe to a mortified young woman of Vericat, right before his eyes. They’d barely been together a month. She was farther along to immersing herself in her new life during that time period than any other little he’d ever encountered before, but it was still only a month.

  One glorious, perfect month in which he’d completely fallen in love with her.

  “These are my clothes,” Amaya squeaked, glancing over at Grant as if for support.

  But he didn’t know what to do.

  What could he do?

  If Maricus was telling the truth - and what reason would he have for lying when he was willing to barge in like this? - Grant wasn’t her Papa anymore. If she was pardoned… her sentence was over. It had happened before, but rarely. So rarely that Grant had never actually met anyone to whom it had happened. He looked at Warren, a silent plea to the other man. It wasn’t just Grant’s heart that would be broken if - when - Amaya left, Quinn’s would be too. Although she’d at least still have her husband and the maids. Grant didn’t want a Mother or the maids… he wanted a little. His little. His princess.

  His Amaya, whom he’d just spanked and still owed a harsh punishment. Punishments that she hadn’t even realized would be part of her life when she’d first landed on Hebe. Punishments that had challenged her, just as his sexual demands had challenged her and sometimes mortified her.

  “Well not anymore. Come on, let’s get you out of here and properly dressed,” Maricus said, pulling off his jacket and holding it out to her without actually turning to look at her. His face was as red as Amaya’s.

  Amaya looked at her brother and then back at Grant. “Papa?”

  “You don’t have to call him that anymore,” Maricus snapped at her, tossing the jacket at her. She caught it, hesitated…

  Shaking off his immobility, Grant shook his head. “No.”

  Chapter 11

  The air constricted inside Amaya’s chest came out in a long breath as Papa stepped forward, coming out from behind his desk. Her emotions were a chaotic mess; she couldn’t even begin to sort out what she was feeling. Part of her wanted to throw herself in Maricus’ arms as a wave of homesickness swept over her; another part of her wanted to run and hide behind Papa; another part of her rejoiced as s
he realized she would never need to be punished again; and another part of her felt forlorn at the idea of leaving Papa and Nanny Quinn; and… and…

  “What do you mean no?” her brother asked mulishly, glaring at her Papa. Amaya recognized the expression. Maricus had always been the most stubborn of her siblings. He was also the most protective of the family; it was his job to make sure no scandal got out, that nothing about the family threatened the business. To say that she’d given him fits was an understatement.

  Papa didn’t even glance at Maricus. His hazel eyes were trained on Amaya, almost glowing with the intensity of his emotions.

  “Don’t go, Princess,” he said, his voice low and husky as he moved towards her.

  Maricus stepped between them. “Stay away from her.”

  “It’s her choice,” Papa said, his voice so cool it made her shiver. He didn’t even sound like himself.

  “She’s been pardoned, she’s going home.”

  “She is home and she can choose to stay,” Papa said grimly. He looked over Maricus’ shoulder. Taller than her brother, it was easy for him to do. Amaya was pretty sure he was stronger than her brother too; it would be easy for him to physically move Maricus out of the way, but at the moment he refrained. A hint of pleading crossed his face. “Stay here, with me, Princess.”

  “No,” Maricus said, turning around. Amaya clutched his jacket to the front of her. “You’ve been pardoned, Amaya. We’re going home. Everyone misses you. Mother and Father said you don’t have to attend a single event ever again if you don’t want to. You can do whatever you want, be whatever you want.”

  “Princess… don’t leave me.” The pleading in her Papa’s voice made her stare at him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Henry jerk in surprise. “I love you.”

  Amaya’s mouth popped open in shock as her brother rounded on Papa.

  “Damn you, stop trying to manipulate her, she do-”

  “Shut up!” Amaya shouted. Her head was starting to throb. All three men turned to look at her. Maricus looked determined, Mr. Henry concerned and Papa… well Papa was frowning at her in a way that made her already sore bottom throb and her breath hitch. She closed her eyes against all of them, her voice lowering to a mere whisper. “Everyone, just be quiet, I need to think for a moment.”

  “What can you possibly-” Maricus started to say, before Amaya’s hand flew up in his direction and her Papa growled at him.

  An uncomfortably tense silence fell and she could feel all of them looking at her even though she couldn’t see them because her eyes were still closed. She bit her lower lip, taking deep breaths in and out as she tried to think.

  No pressure.

  After all, it was only the rest of her life she’d have to live with whatever decision she made.

  She clutched her brother’s jacket against her chest, although it was a poor replacement for her teddy bear.

  Maricus’ offer was everything she’d wanted, her whole life. She could have her family. She could have her freedom from their control. She could spend time with her brothers and sisters, work for the company if she wanted to, but avoid all the parts she hated. She would never have to be shown off again.

  Or she could stay here with Papa and Nanny Quinn. Have daily enemas and spankings. Be teased and tormented until she thought she was going to explode, only to be put on her knees so that she could pleasure Papa with her mouth while she was left wanting. Punishments every time she was naughty or even just temperamental. Straps. Canes. His cock in her bumhole, hurting her and then, to her humiliation, pleasuring her.

  Amaya hugged the jacket closer, wishing it was her teddy, to give her strength.

  “I want to stay,” she whispered.

  “What?!” Maricus half-shouted, sounding strangled.

  She opened her eyes and met her Papa’s warm gaze. “I can emigrate,” she said, her voice a little stronger. “I can choose to stay. I am staying.”

  Her parents had made it impossible for her to emigrate before, because she’d been under their thumbs, on their planet. Becoming a criminal had been her only option. Now, though, she was on Hebe. Taking her off this planet would be far more difficult than keeping her on theirs, and that was if they even tried to come themselves. Something she doubted they would do because if people found out they’d even visited a prison planet… There was a reason they’d sent Maricus instead. He wasn’t the head of the company yet and so he wasn’t as closely watched.

  Whereas Papa would play with her. Care for her. Cherish her. Even when he was punishing her, she felt the warmth of his attention - it just translated to a very hot bottom sometimes. Amaya could barely believe she was having to admit that she would rather be spanked, disciplined, and regularly punished than have absolute freedom… but the truth was, she liked her routine. She liked the structure. She might not always like the consequences, but they did make her feel cared about and they did heat up her body in a way that ultimately ended in ecstasy, no matter how much it hurt in the meantime. The dichotomy wasn’t what she wanted, but she’d come to realize it was what she craved.

  The idea of going back to a regular existence wasn’t bad. Part of her wanted to jump at the opportunity. But the idea of leaving Papa behind… of no more pleasure mixed with pain, of no more play time, no more Marianne, no more acts that horrified her as much as they enthralled her… it left her feeling empty inside.

  Plus… she didn’t believe Papa was trying to manipulate her. He wasn’t that kind of man. He wouldn’t lie to her. It wouldn’t be hard for him to get another little girl. From her lessons she knew all about the orphanage and was sure there would be plenty of young women still there. He wouldn’t care whether or not she stayed if any girl would do. He wanted her.

  “No, seriously, Amaya, you can’t actually want to stay.” Maricus threw his hands up in the air, his tone of voice utterly exasperated in the way it always got when he realized he wasn’t going to be able to convince her to his way of thinking. The tone of voice he used when he was going to keep arguing, but they both knew she’d already won.

  Because after her lessons with Nanny, Amaya knew every single one of her rights on Hebe. If she wanted to stay, there was nothing Maricus could do to remove her. If she’d wanted to go… well, Papa could try to fight to keep her but he would lose if she’d truly received a full pardon.

  Staying would mean signing over her rights again, and this time with the full understanding of what she was doing. Which was terrifying and kind of embarrassing because it meant admitting this was the life she wanted, even though she might kick and fuss and scream when she was being punished…

  “Warren, will you please show Mr. Targe to a guest room?” Papa murmured. His eyes had never left her face and a small, warm smile curved his lips. “I believe Amaya and I have some unfinished business this evening.”

  “We’ll talk about this more tomorrow,” Maricus said, scowling.

  “You can talk all you want, I’m staying here,” Amaya said stubbornly. She stepped forward and thrust his jacket at him, making him actually squeak as he covered most of his eyes with his hand.

  “Tomorrow,” he muttered, allowing Mr. Henry to lead him away, still averting his eyes from Amaya’s body. It made her feel very bold and mischievous to embarrass her brother like that. Like maybe she wasn’t the prude that she sometimes felt.

  The door opened before Mr. Henry could reach it and Nanny Quinn rushed in, looking flushed and distressed. Her eyes darted around the room before finally landing on Amaya. “I… I heard…”

  “Amaya is staying here, Quinn,” Papa said soothingly, stepping behind Amaya and putting his hands on her shoulders. “Her brother is going to partake of our hospitality tonight before he leaves tomorrow.”

  “Before I leave with Amaya tomorrow,” Maricus muttered, causing Nanny Quinn to shoot Papa a worried look.

  “I’m staying,” Amaya said firmly. Warmth blossomed in her chest when Nanny Quinn obviously relaxed at her statement, looking reli
eved and happy at the announcement. It wasn’t just her Papa that cared about her and would miss her if she were to leave. And, if Amaya were being truthful, it wasn’t just Papa that she would miss. She loved her nanny too, even if it was in a different way. Something that, a month ago, she would never have thought she’d say.

  ******

  As soon as the door closed behind Amaya’s brother, Warren, and Quinn, Grant spun Amaya around and swept her up into his arms. She made a little noise of surprise before his mouth fell on hers, muffling her. He hitched her legs up around his waist, his hands cupping the hot cheeks of her bottom, his tongue delving between her lips. It wasn’t often he kissed her like this outside of his bedroom, but right now he was just so fucking relieved…

  He honestly hadn’t thought she was going to stay.

  But he’d wanted her to know that he loved her, even if she left.

  That she wanted to stay was a joy. A precious gift. Just like she was.

  He could feel her wet heat where her pussy was splayed against the front of his pants, rubbing over his bulge, her hips squirming as she pressed herself against him. Little moans rumbled in her throat as she kissed him back eagerly, her arms twined around his neck. She made a little noise of distress when his fingers sought out the base of the plug in her ass and began to play with it, but that didn’t stop her from rubbing herself against him like a cat in heat.

  When he finally broke the kiss off, they were both panting for air. Her eyes were wide, her lips swollen, and her cheeks flushed with pleasure.

  “Thank you for staying, Princess,” he murmured, dropping a kiss onto her nose.

  “I didn’t want to leave you, Papa,” she said, her face serious. “I love you too.”

  He kissed her again. Because he wanted to. Because he could. Because he enjoyed feeling the hot skin of her bottom against his palms and the way she squirmed against him.

  And then he let her slide down his front.