Papa’s Joy

by Sue Lyndon

  “Do you like it?” Papa asked, and she was surprised to see he was a bit nervous about her reply.

  “Well, of course, Papa. Of course I do. What little girl would not be thrilled by a room such as this? I particularly like the painting,” she said with a smile. “Thank you for such a thoughtful gift. It makes the room feel like it is truly mine.”

  “It pleases me to hear you say so,” Papa said, “as making the room special just for you was my intention all along. As you know—I apologize for continuing to mention the topic—but I had originally intended this room to belong to another.”

  Poor Papa. Daisy took in the anxious glint in his eye and the wrinkles in his brow. If Daisy had not loved him profoundly already, she most certainly would in that moment, seeing his deep desire to make her happy.

  She reached up and cupped his cheek. “Please, Papa,” she said, “let us not talk of those concerns any further. Cynny is one of my best friends and I am sure it was fate which had things happen the way they did, including the old ceiling falling through. You are my papa. My one and only true papa and I am your little girl. Forever.”

  Or at least until my secret is found out.

  Oh how the pain of it hurt her heart. She loved her papa with every fiber of her being and the thought of being a disappointment to him or being removed from his life shattered her heart in a million pieces. She turned from him and pretended to be studying the display of dolls while she blinked away the tears burning in her eyes.

  Papa gently turned her to face him and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “My sweet Daisy, so delightful and also exceedingly wise. I am indeed a fortunate man.”

  He held her to him and she buried her face in the soft fabric of his shirt inhaling deeply of Papa’s unique scent. Oh please, she prayed, never let this moment end.

  Papa released her from his embrace. “I believe it is time for your nap. Though I am reluctant for this moment to end, you need your rest, little girl.”

  “I believe I am quite tired, Papa,” she said. “I will enjoy a nap.”

  Papa helped her to change and slip into a lovely and delicate nightgown. And then he tucked her into the bed, held her hand, stroked her arm and massaged her fingers until she grew still and he likely believed her to be sleeping. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and rose from the bed.

  Chapter 14

  As soon as she heard the door close, Daisy counted to one hundred, then slowly opened her eyes and glanced around the room, making sure she truly was alone. Sitting up against the headboard, she considered her bedchamber, which was the very first time in her whole entire life she had a room to herself. Well, she did live in a room alone for a short period after her mother died, but only because no one knew what to do with her. It was not a room meant to be a sanctuary for her, of that she was certain.

  She glanced over at the collection of china dolls which Papa had gathered for her to enjoy, as well as books and puzzles, even a set of watercolor paints. How was he to have known the memories some paints, brushes and canvas would bring back to her? Memories of a time so far in the past, she sometimes wondered if she might have imagined the whole thing.

  Of course, if she could not figure out a way to avoid the calamity rushing in her direction, her recollections of her wedding day and special private time with her papa might also be nothing but faded memories soon.

  She threw back the bedcovers and carefully padded across the floor, grateful for the plush area rug which muffled her footfalls. At the window she pulled back the draperies and looked out. Of course her room would face the dreaded Hamilton Manor directly. Staring toward the building, she worked to calm her breathing. She carefully counted the windows up three floors and over four, to the small room which she had shared with her mother.

  Her sweet, courageous, beloved mother. The warm sentimental feelings which threatened to overwhelm her warred with the memories of humiliation and desperation which had befallen her within the walls of the stately manor.

  She is nothing but a burden. Get her out of my sight.

  The horrible scene played itself out again in her mind’s eye, her body roiling with fear and shame. Even now, years later, her pulse raced and her breathing turned shallow at the recollection.

  “They cannot hurt me now,” she told herself. “I have a papa. He will not allow it.”

  Fiddlesticks. Not only would he allow it, it was Papa who had arranged for her tormentors to call upon her.

  It was a cruel twist of fate.

  Speaking of fate, why had Lady Miselda not mentioned anything about this situation, especially if it was to take place so soon after she told Daisy’s fortune?

  Was there no one she could count on?

  In her sadness and disappointment, a memory came to her—the very words her mother had spoken on her deathbed, and she heard them in her head as if her mother was standing beside her and whispering them in her ear now.

  “No matter how dark and unfair life may seem at times, if you look hard enough and you believe hard enough, you will always see a flicker of light in the darkness. That light you will see, my dear sweet daughter, is hope, and no one—not even the devil himself, can extinguish your light, your hope.”

  Her mother had never lost hope. And neither would she.

  * * *

  Edward enjoyed seeing his estate through the eyes of his new bride. She was enthusiastic and in awe of all the things he had to share with her at Kensington Manor. He had lived his entire life in grandeur and associated with those who also lived in similar circumstances, as was expected of him and all gentlemen of his station. But through Daisy's eyes he could see the extraordinary privilege to which he had become accustomed.

  They had already spent time exploring the gardens of the estate. Daisy happily pointed out all the flowers which were the namesakes of her friends back at Talcott House. The colorful hyacinth, the elegant camellia, the crimson rose and she even mentioned a couple of new friends named for the delicate violet and the fragrant lily.

  “How is it possible,” he had asked, “that all of your friends are named for flowers? It is an extraordinary coincidence, is it not?”

  “Oh, Papa,” she giggled, “it is no coincidence at all. When a girl comes to Talcott House she is given a fresh start and a new life as well as a new name. Miss Wickersham names all of her little ladies for the flowers because she says we are all delicate buds waiting to bloom.”

  As much as he had found Miss Wickersham to be a brazen, somewhat difficult woman, he had to admire her mission and her tenacity. And he most certainly admired the bride she had created for him.

  After the garden, they had moved inside the house. Daisy had oohed and ahhed over the expanse of the rooms, the grand views and the artwork which had been passed down through his family for centuries. She paused in front of a particularly colorful painting and gazed upon it in silence for several moments, a pleasant smile spreading over her face.

  He had walked up to stand next to her and looked at the painting himself. He had to admit that in all the years he had lived at Kensington Manor he had never truly taken the time to examine the artwork. “What is it about this painting, my dear, which has caught your attention?” he asked.

  She smiled up at him. “I love the colors and the way the artist has used light and dark to create an image which draws the viewer in.” She pointed to an area of the painting. “See how the shadow falls across this flower and shows the contrast between sunshine and darkness? We each have light and dark in us, do you not agree?”

  “That is an interesting thought. Have you studied art, little Daisy?”

  Her eyes darted about the room and he was curious about her reaction. “A small amount,” she said. “We did have painting classes at Talcott House, though I was never patient enough to do all of the tiny details which our instructor expected of us. I do thank you, dear Papa, for the watercolors which are in my special bedchamber. I am looking forward to practicing with them.”

  “You are very
welcome. I am pleased to know you will enjoy them.”

  “Where to next, Papa?” Daisy grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the adjoining room. “Papa,” she said as they entered yet another expansive room, “were you living in this large house all by yourself? How did you not get lost?” She swivelled her head around to take in the furnishings and decor, before looking up at him thoughtfully. “Papa, were you lonely?”

  He paused for a moment before responding with honesty. “At the time, I never thought of myself as lonely,” he said, “but now that you are here, I cannot imagine living in this house alone ever again.”

  A bright smile broke out across her face and she wrapped her arms around his waist. “Papa,” she said, “that is the most wonderful thing anyone has ever said about me. I never want you to feel lonely again.”

  “Have you ever felt lonely, Daisy?” he asked, suddenly very curious about his wife’s past.

  He thought he saw a flash of sadness cross her face, but it was gone instantly and perhaps he had imagined it. “Oh, I suppose everyone has periods of loneliness. Please, Papa, let us not talk of such sad things. This is a happy day, is it not?”

  “You are correct. I apologize for being dour.”

  “Have we seen all the rooms on the first floor, Papa?”

  “Yes,” he said, “I believe we have.”

  “Well, then,” she said with a mischievous grin, “I shall race you to the second floor.” Before she had finished the challenge, she took off across the room and into the wide entryway which held the main staircase, a squeal and a giggle lingering where she had stood moments before.

  To his shock, instead of ordering her to behave herself, he chased after her. She was halfway up the staircase by the time he arrived at the foot of the stairs, but he used his long legs to his advantage and caught up with her. She moved to block his way, but he tossed her over his shoulder and finished the trek up the stairs with her squealing and kicking. They landed in a heap at the top of the stairs, both of them laughing.

  Three maids and the housekeeper came running to investigate the commotion. “Well,” Mrs. Daniels said, “I never thought I would see such a thing at Kensington Manor.”

  “You might want to get used to it,” he said to her and she turned and left with a huff, which set Daisy off on another peal of laughter.

  “You’re it,” Daisy said and took off running down the hall. “Catch me if you can,” she called over her shoulder.

  He scrambled to his feet and pursued her, shouting, “You’re going over my knee as soon as I catch you, naughty girl.”

  She squealed with delight and rushed into the library and slammed the door. Fortunately, he got there before she was able to engage the lock. As he closed the door behind him, his little bride stared at him, her chest moving up and down rapidly with the exertion and excitement of the game she had instigated. Her eyes were bright and he saw her glance around, as if trying to find a hiding place.

  “Oh no you don’t, little girl. I have caught you fair and square and you know what that means.”

  Her hands went to her backside and she took a step back. “No, Papa. Please. It was just a game.”

  “Who says the game must stop?” He closed his hand over her upper arm and pulled her to him, covering her mouth with his.

  * * *

  Daisy’s head spun with excitement as Papa held her close and kissed her soundly. She relished the feel of his solid body pressing against hers, and it didn’t take long for her to notice her papa had grown hard inside his trousers, which she now realized meant he desired her. Her kitty pulsed as she wondered if he would indeed put her over his knee as promised. Her behind cheeks quivered and she rocked her center forward to better feel the evidence of her papa’s arousal.

  He finally withdrew from the kiss and stared down at her, the dark gleam in his gaze full of promise. He arched an eyebrow at her in a playful manner and she decided she very much enjoyed this side of her papa. Who would have guessed the serious Lord Kensington would indulge in a game and chase her about his house? The servants’ reaction, particularly that of Mrs. Daniels, had proved it was quite out of character for her papa to behave in such a fashion, and she beamed with pride at thinking that perhaps most of the trials Lady Miselda had mentioned were over, for it seemed she was finally bringing her papa the joy which the fortune teller had mentioned he needed in his life.

  “Papa?” she asked in a nervous tone, which was mostly feigned. She reached around and cupped her bottom again, giving him what she hoped was her cutest pout as she allowed her lower lip to protrude while she widened her eyes, as if to plead for leniency. “Please don’t spank me, Papa. I promise to be a good girl from now on.”

  He waggled a finger at her and gave her a stern look, but he couldn’t quite keep the corners of his lips from turning up every few seconds and she realized with delight that he was playing along. A naughty thrill ran through her and heat coiled in her nether region, her pulse skittering with anticipation.

  “If you didn’t wish to go over my knee for a hard spanking on your bare bottom, little girl, then perhaps you should have run faster.” He approached her, and she kept backing up with his every step, until he had her pinned against a large desk.

  She gasped as he leaned down to place his arms on either side of her, trapping her in place. As she squirmed in his hold, her legs inadvertently kept pressing together, which only deepened the ache in her kitty.

  “Come along,” he said, grasping her hand and pulling her away from the desk. “Papa has to teach you a lesson.” He guided her around the desk, pulled the chair behind it out, and then sat down and stood her between his spread legs. He gave her another stern, but somewhat playful, look that sent excited tingles through her whole body.

  “Oh, Papa, please not on my bare bottom.” She fidgeted in place as he gazed up at her.

  “Keep stalling, little girl, and Papa will apply extra swats to your smooth cunny lips, just as Papa gave you extra swats to your little bunghole after your spanking yesterday.”

  She gasped, truly surprised. Yet somehow the threat of receiving penalty smacks to the sensitive folds between her legs only made her desire for her papa stronger. She felt the trickle of moisture on her inner thigh as she squirmed in place. She could not resist saying, “You will do no such thing, Papa,” as she placed her hands in front of her center, shielding her private area from Papa’s gaze even though she was still wearing the lovely gown he’d dressed her in this morning.

  “That’s it,” he said, his voice deeper than usual. In one deft movement, he arranged her over his lap and bared her bottom, lifting her skirts and chemise to reveal her nakedness as he forced her into the proper position to receive a chastisement. “I know a little girl who is going to get ouchies on her bottom and on her cunny lips.”

  He wasted no time in delivering the first swat, though it wasn’t hard at all. It was a deliciously light and sensual slap. She kicked her feet back and forth though, very much enjoying playing the role of the naughty little girl who was getting a punishment spanking from her stern papa. Pretending was delightful and she hoped they enjoyed such games often. She would be a very good girl and avoid a real punishment spanking as she’d received last night, but perhaps every now and then they could pretend she’d been naughty. She smiled as she clutched onto his legs for support and kept kicking her feet.

  “Ouch, Papa! That hurt!” She peered over her shoulder at him. “Let me up, please. I promise I’ll be the goodest girl ever, no more bare bottom spanking.” She squirmed on his lap and her breath caught as she detected the fullness of his hardening cock beneath her center. Papa was as excited by the playacting as she was.

  “Naughty little girls get thoroughly punished, young lady,” he replied, applying a series of light swats all over her bottom and even the tops of her thighs.

  She basked in the pleasure of the slight sting and the increasing achiness between her quivering thighs. She soon became so breathless in her need
for her papa, that she ceased kicking her feet and remained still over his lap, aside from a slow lifting of her bottom to meet his descending palm as she invited each light smack.

  “Time for the final part of your punishment, young lady,” he said in his stern papa-voice that made her all tingly. “Spread your thighs wide apart and show Papa your smooth little cunny. You’re getting some smacks on your privates, Daisy, whether you like it or not.”

  Smoldering anticipation swirled through her as she parted her legs and revealed her throbbing kitty to her papa. He placed one hand on the top of her bottom cheeks and splayed this most private area of her further apart, which of course forced her cunny to open wider to his view. She felt the heat of his gaze on her nether parts and a flush swept through her.

  “You’re soaking wet, little girl.” He made a tsking noise. “You’re making quite the mess. Papa might have to give you a bath later.”

  She perked up at the prospect of a bath. The last time her papa had given her a bath had been most delightful. She looked over her shoulder at him and found herself saying, “But I can’t help getting so wet, Papa, when I can feel your hard cock beneath me.” Then she purposely wiggled over his rigid length.

  She thought she heard him mutter a naughty word under his breath, and a second later he commenced spanking her kitty with the same light slaps he’d used on her bottom. Each time his fingertips landed upon her throbbing clitty, she gasped and arched her center outward to meet his hand. She lost count of the slaps, but it didn’t matter for they weren’t hard at all and she thought she could happily spend hours over Papa’s lap with her legs spread while he applied light blows to her aching privates.