Hunter's Baby Girl

by Samantha Morgan

  Suddenly, a sharp stinging pain swept through me as his hand made solid contact with my flesh. I gasped through clenched teeth.

  “This hurts me more than it hurts you, Little Girl,” he said. Then another smack, and another gasp. Even though it stung, a lot, the heat between my legs only increased. I was aching for more.

  “Does that hurt?” he asked. “Tell Daddy.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” I whimpered. “It hurts when you spank me.”

  “But do you agree that you’ve been a very bad girl and need to be punished?” he asked. I bit my lip to keep from giggling.

  “Yes, Daddy,” I said, moaning a little as I did. “I deserve to be punished. I was a bad girl today.” Another smack. This time I did more than gasp — I cried out a little bit. Instead of getting used to the sensation, it was becoming more extreme. I wondered how much longer, and harder, he planned to spank me.

  “That’s right,” he said with another brisk spank that left me yipping in pain. “You were very, very bad.” Another spank.

  “That really hurts,” I said, all pretense gone from my voice.

  “Does it?” he asked, then I felt his hand wrap itself in one of my pigtails. He got a good handful, then yanked my head back until I was nearly eye-to-eye with him. I cried out and tried to pull away. “Maybe you won’t be disobedient again then.” He shoved me back over his knee, then spanked my ass again. Wham!

  “Hunter, please, stop,” I begged. I’d had enough. This wasn’t sexy anymore. “I realize we don’t have a safe word here, but I just really need you to stop. You’re hurting me!”

  The pressure of his hand on my back disappeared, and I slipped off his lap onto all fours. I needed a moment to compose myself. My ass throbbed from his punishment.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, all apologies now. The stern Daddy had disappeared, and I was left with Hunter again. “That was such a stupid mistake for me to make. I got carried away. Please, forgive me.”

  I looked up at him from my position on the floor, and I could tell that he was sincerely concerned. “It’s okay,” I said. “No real damage done. I’ll just be sore for a while.”

  He slid from the chair onto the floor, kneeling beside me. He lifted my skirt to take a look. “Poor thing,” he murmured, running a very gentle hand over my sore flesh. Even through the stinging pain, I couldn’t help feeling a little breathless at his touch. It was amazing how one person could touch me in two such different ways. Both of which were exciting.

  “Let me kiss it and make it better,” he offered. My heart raced, and I had to keep from licking my lips in anticipation. I nodded, then stood and walked over to the spanking table to make myself more comfortable. I laid my torso over the table and rested the side of my face on my crossed arms, my feet on the floor. I was getting wetter by the second.

  He knelt behind me, his hands roaming over my legs from top to bottom. His touch was electric. Then I felt a light kiss on one ass cheek, then another on the other side. “Does that feel nice?” he asked.

  “Mmm-hmm,” I moaned softly. I was in heaven.

  Again, he kissed me, so softly, and again. He covered my flesh with the lightest kisses, still sensual thanks to the way he let his lips linger. My knees were trembling, my breath coming faster. His hands never stopped touching me. Then I felt his tongue, swirling over my skin every time his lips touched me. I moaned more loudly.

  “You like my tongue?” he asked, his voice husky.

  “I love it,” I answered, my own voice rasping as I gasped for air. I’ve never been so turned on in all my life. Even though I was still aching in pain, there was equal pleasure rushing through my body and centering at that magic spot between my legs now so hot it hurt.

  “Would you like . . . more of my tongue?” he asked, his voice full of sexy promise.

  “Yes, please!” I cried out and spread my legs slightly. I’d been holding back from begging him to lick my pussy, but now I felt no shame. I needed him to taste me and drive me crazy.

  He started licking my fabric-covered mound. I arched my back and threw my head back at that first touch of his tongue. I was so close to cumming I thought I’d explode.

  He teased me on and on with his tongue without removing my thong. I strained and wiggled my hips, encouraging him to go farther. He laughed softly. “Eager,” I heard him murmur. His tongue traced my lips, dipping just beneath the fabric of my thong.

  “Please, eat me,” I gasped. “I need you to eat me, now.”

  Without a word, he pulled my thong down until it reached the ends of my garters. My smooth, wet pussy was completely on display, and all I wanted was for him to devour it.

  And he did, diving in and plundering my slit with his skilled tongue. I cried out again, so grateful to finally feel him against me. He alternated between flicking my clit and sucking on it. I couldn’t help from rolling my head back and forth on my shoulders in utter bliss. I pushed my hips back, urging him on.

  “More, please, more,” I gasped. “Don’t stop.”

  He held onto my hips with his hands and buried his face in me, his tongue working my clit mercilessly until my moans ran together into one, long, continuous sound that finally ended in a small scream as my orgasm hit me like a freight train. All that teasing and arousal led up to the strongest, most all-consuming climax I’d ever had, and I cried out again and again while the shudders ran through me.

  I was spent, lying across the table, gasping for breath. No one had ever made me cum like that before. And I knew already that I couldn’t give up the chance to have him do that to me again.

  “See?” he said, satisfaction in his voice. “You take your punishment, then Daddy makes it better.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” I replied, completely blissed out. I pushed myself up on my hands, and then pulled up my panties. I turned to look at him and immediately wondered if he’d want something in return. I couldn’t deny even to myself that I wanted to get a look at what was hiding under those leather pants of his.

  I placed my hands on his chest and moved closer to him. “What about you?” I breathed.

  But he only smiled down at me. “Not yet,” he said. “Little Girl needs to have a little discipline and learn how to wait.” He placed a soft kiss on my forehead.

  I pouted. “I guess I can wait, if I have to,” I said playfully.

  “And you do . . . want to?” he asked. I knew what he was really asking – whether I wanted to see him again. And I did. I wanted to see how far we could take this together. I knew he had plenty to teach me. Maybe I could teach him to temper that little violent streak he’d revealed to me. Even my scalp tingled a little from when he’d pulled my hair.

  I nodded. “Yes. I want to.”

  That night, I crawled slowly into bed after taking a couple ibuprofen for the soreness in my rear end and wondered what I’d gotten myself into. We’d decided to meet for coffee the following day and work out an arrangement to follow going forward. I hoped he wouldn’t expect me to do anything too humiliating. Yet, even as I had the thought, I couldn’t ignore the little tingle between my legs at the idea of being controlled by this gorgeous, sexy man.

  Chapter 3

  The next day, I crawled out of bed a little more slowly than I normally would have. I’d wound up spending the night on my stomach since my butt was still so sore. Of course, the memory of everything that had happened afterward, when Daddy had “kissed it and made it better”, outweighed the discomfort I now felt. Still, it was a reminder that Hunter and I had a lot to talk about today.

  I had discussed the whole thing with Megan as she was driving me home from the club. She was looking extremely relaxed. I guess she had her own fun that night with her football player.

  “What do you think I should do?” I asked her. “This is completely outside the box for me. Of course you know that,” I added.

  She giggled. “What should you do? You should enjoy yourself!”

  I bit my lip. She was a lot surer than I was. “He’s a stranger,” I p
ointed out.

  “Really? And what did you let that stranger do to you tonight?” she asked. I cleared my throat and looked out the window. “I thought so,” she said, sounding smug.

  When I didn’t answer, she softened her tone. “Listen, everybody’s a stranger until you get to know them. You guys decided to meet tomorrow. That’s good. You can talk and work things out and decide where to go from there. I wouldn’t have introduced you to Hunter if I didn’t know he has a great reputation at the club. Everybody likes him. You might not have seen it for yourself tonight, but sometimes people do just sit and talk about random things like the weather. He’s got something going on, something that makes him a little sad. But otherwise he’s pretty great. I knew you’d hit it off.”

  I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to get the weight off my sore backside.

  “Was somebody a bad girl tonight?” she asked and giggled again.

  “Yeah, I guess I was,” I told her. “And I learned a lesson the hard way: get a safe word in place before playing.”

  I fully intended to have that conversation with Hunter today. If he wanted to keep this . . . thing . . . we had somehow fallen into going, we had to put some rules in place.

  It took me ages to find an outfit I liked enough. I wanted to still look sexy, but a bit more . . . wholesome. I finally went with a tight sweater that had a deep V-cut and showed off my cleavage, jeans, and knee-high riding boots.

  When I got to the café, I took a look around and didn’t see him anywhere. I’d deliberately gotten there earlier than our established time. I wanted to pick a seat with cushioning, for one thing. For another, I wanted to get a look at him before he got a look at me. Call me crazy.

  I took a seat facing the door. Within a few minutes, he walked in and looked around for me.

  My first impression was that he was even better looking in daylight, in street clothes, than he’d been the night before. His blue eyes were so striking they practically jumped from his head. His dark brown hair was just long enough to slightly brush his forehead, and it looked as though he’d just jumped out of the shower and run his fingers through it. He still hadn’t shaved, and that fuzz on his cheeks gave him a rugged look that turned my knees to jelly.

  He was wearing typical “Saturday at the coffee shop” type clothing: a pullover sweater with a T-shirt underneath, jeans, dress shoes. He looked comfortable yet preppy and completely different from the man I’d met the night before.

  Once I’d gotten my fill of looking at him in secret, I waved to him. He came over to me with a smile on his face. “Can I get you some coffee?” he asked, and I gave him my order. I enjoyed the view as he waited with his back turned to me as much as I had when he faced me. His broad shoulders and back were begging for me to dig my fingers into them, and I’d gladly try to bounce a quarter off that ass.

  When he sat back down across from me, there was a moment of awkward silence between us. Finally, I laughed softly.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “Isn’t it ridiculous that after what happened last night we’d be uncomfortable right now?” I laughed again, and this time he joined me.

  “You’re right. We’re already much better acquainted than most people are when they meet for their first coffee date,” he admitted. “But I have to admit, I don’t usually see anyone from the club in the outside world. Know what I mean?”

  I blew out a sigh of relief. “So I’m not the only one out of their depth here. I feel a lot better,” I admitted.

  “So last night was really your first time in a club like that?” I nodded. “Boy, you got comfortable awfully fast.”

  I blushed. “Well, you had something to do with that. You ushered me in, so to speak, pretty nicely.” I bit the corner of my bottom lip and felt my skin turn even deeper red.

  To his credit, he was blushing a little as well. “I’m glad your first experience was . . . pleasurable.” I couldn’t help but giggle at his deliberate choice of words. I took a sip from my coffee and a bite from my Danish. I noticed his eyes on my mouth as I ate. I’d have to keep in mind the way his gaze lingered there.

  “So where do we go from here?” I had to finally ask. “This is definitely a new experience for me. I know we said we wanted to continue this. But how? What does that look like?”

  “Well,” Hunter said, folding his hands on the table. “Some people decide to jump right into a cohabitation sort of situation right away. I don’t expect that. I’m not even sure I’d want it.”

  Again, I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. That’s, like, a recipe for getting robbed or something.”

  He laughed. “I feel the same way. But who knows, maybe somewhere down the line?” I shrugged. I wouldn’t discount the idea, but it would really have to be far off into the future.

  “Otherwise,” he continued, “I was thinking that maybe we could set aside a few nights a week to meet at one or the other of our places. I have an apartment in town, maybe a five-minute walk from here.”

  “I have a house of my own. Actually, it was my parents’ house. It’s a ten-minute drive away.”

  “You live alone?” I nodded. “Me, too.”

  “So . . . You wanna play? The way we did last night?” I was happy to follow his lead, as long we didn’t take things too far.

  “Yeah, I do,” he said. I saw a twinkle in his eye and a sexy smile slowly spread across his face. He was so handsome he made my chest hurt.

  “How? You come home, and I’m watching MTV instead of doing my homework?” I suggested. He smiled wider.

  “See, you’re catching on pretty fast. You don’t give yourself enough credit. Yeah, I can get behind that. Or you burned dinner because you were texting your friends. Or you broke curfew. That sort of thing.”

  “And you . . . punish me?” I asked.

  “Mmm-hmm,” he confirmed. “It’s my job to guide you and teach you, after all. I don’t want to have to do it, but . . . that’s what Daddies do.”

  I grinned. “You know something?” I said, getting serious again. “This is way too weird for me. Talking about this in a coffee shop.” I looked around us at all the people just enjoying coffee and reading the paper. “I wonder what they would think if they knew what was going on over here.”

  He laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe they’re saying that themselves. You don’t know what’s really going on with people,” he pointed out.

  “I guess not. I mean, I look at you. And I would never guess that you would do the sort of things we did last night. Much less visiting the club! You look like just an average person.”

  “I am just an average person. We all are. If anything, this should show you that there’s no such thing as ‘normal’. Like, do you consider yourself normal? Average?” I nodded. I had until the night before anyway. “And yet here you are,” he continued, “working out the specifics of an age-play scenario. So what is normal, anyway?”

  He leaned closer. “Besides,” he added in a sexy whisper, “isn’t it sort of fun? Having a secret that nobody else knows about?”

  I couldn’t deny he had a point. I nodded. It was fun. I was actually getting off on it a little bit. Sitting here, talking about this in front of everybody else. It was fun.

  But then I remembered what Megan and I had discussed, and I had to bring it up. “Listen. There’s one more thing: a safe word. We need one.”

  “Yes, yes, absolutely. Like I said last night, that was a huge mistake on my part. That’s one of the biggest no-nos of all, and I broke it. I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that. So, this word. I say whenever I feel like things are going too far, right?”

  “Right. Everything stops then and there. It’s a trust thing. I trust you to use that word when you have to, and you trust me to honor that. I give you my word that I will.”

  “Okay. So what should it be?”

  “It’s up to you. Whatever you want.”

  I looked around, trying to think of something. Then I look
ed down at the paper cup in front of me. “Latte?” I suggested.

  “Latte it is,” he agreed with a smile. “I never want you to do anything you don’t want to do. Even if you don’t use the word, I want to discuss things with you every once in a while, too. I want you to be totally comfortable and to have things go the way you want. This isn’t just about me wanting to be Daddy. This is about your pleasure, your . . . fulfillment. So communication is a big deal. I promise to be open and maintain a dialogue with you.”

  “Same here,” I promised. “I’ll make it a point to honor that as well.” Then I thought about something else. “So, does this mean we’ll be, like . . .” — I lowered my voice — “having sex a few times a week?”

  “That’s a good question, and I hadn’t considered addressing it. No, of course not. There’s gonna be times one or the other or even both of us don’t feel like doing that. It happens. But that’s not what this is about – at least not entirely. Sometimes it’s just a matter of sitting together and watching TV, but in our roles. Daddy and Little. I’m sure we can figure it out as we go along. Again, communication will be key.” I nodded. This made sense. Of course, I was hoping we could have sex as much as possible. I wanted to know what else he had going on. I remembered those leather pants from the night before and how much I’d wanted to pull them off with my teeth.

  “Great,” he said. “So, when do we start?”

  “How about tomorrow? We can spend a little more time getting to know each other. My place at noon?”