Papa's Little Pain Princess

by Zoe Blake

“Oh my, yes!” laughed Winnie as she impulsively hugged him.

  “I’m pleased. It is a set from a recent production of Midsummer’s Night Dream. I had them reassemble the entire stage set here just for you.”

  Winnie danced about the ballroom. Running in and out of the trees. Twirling around the star bursts of light cast on the floor. Imagining herself truly in an enchanted forest, for a moment she was a fairy, a princess, a bird. It was better than any dream. Better than any novel. Better than her glimpse of the stage at Haymarket. It felt so real. It was wonderful!

  Archer let her play while he stepped back. He also had a costume to put on.

  ~

  Winnie had pulled down one of the ribbons of gold silk from the candelabra and was dancing and humming a jaunty tune with it wrapped around her shoulders when Archer reappeared.

  She stopped, stunned.

  He had stripped down to just a pair of tight fitting buff riding breeches. His magnificent chest and brawny arms bare. On his hands were a pair of gloves covered in bristled, gray hair. The fingers tipped with realistic looking black rubber claws. Covering part of his face was a fierce wolf mask. His strong jaw and sensuous lips free, the mask covered the upper portion. There was a long gray snout that blended into a black silk mask which covered his eyes. Sharply pointed ears struck out above the dark wavy lengths of his hair. His midnight blue eyes shone with a feral intensity through the confines of the mask.

  Her breath quickened as he slowly prowled close to her. Already a powerfully masculine man, this costume only magnified all his dominant, virile traits. He truly moved and looked like the wolf he was portraying.

  “Ready to play, little girl,” he said with a wolfish grin.

  Winnie swallowed. Her body thrummed from his nearness. It felt dangerous to be this close to him.

  “I will give you a head start to run and hide in the forest,” he growled, low and dark near her ear. “If you find the prize I have hidden somewhere among the trees, you win the game. If I find you first, I take my delicate fairy like the wolf I am.”

  Winnie stood frightfully still, mesmerized by him.

  “Run!” he barked.

  Startled Winnie took off to hide among the trees like a frightened doe. Running among the false rocks, paper flowers and hollow trees. She heard nothing but her own hammering heart. Realizing she needed to search for the prize as much as hide, she scurried about lifting up tufts of turf and peeking behind stuffed bunnies.

  That’s when she heard it…a faint rustling. Searching through the rainbow leaves of the trees she could see nothing, but sensed his presence. She took off again. Running along the blue fabric river, vainly looking for a place to hide.

  Archer tilted his head back and sniffed the air. Lemon soap. He made sure her nanny used the same scent he had grown to love on Winnie. Clean, fresh, untouched. Soon he would despoil all of that. Stalking through the man-made forest, he listened for her breathing, for the rustle of her dress, for the scrape of a slippered foot on the polished ballroom floor. That’s when he heard it, a faint gasp. Archer’s mouth curved into a suggestive smile. Taking off at a run, he closed the distance between him and his pretty prey.

  Covering her mouth, shaking from fear and excitement, straining to listen, hoping Papa Wolf did not hear her shocked gasp when her foot slipped on a silk flower. Hearing nothing she ventured out into the small clearing. There was a promising bundle of roses and violets nestled on a soft bed of emerald green damask cloth fashioned to look like moss that looked like a good hiding place for a prize.

  Winnie knelt down on the softened ground, brushing the straw stems of the flowers aside as she searched the bundle. That is when she heard it. His heavy breathing as he stood over her. Slowly turning her head, Winnie looked up. From her crouching position, he looked to be nine feet tall, standing in the shadows like some malevolent force.

  “Game over,” he growled before pouncing.

  Winnie screamed, trying to scramble out of his grasp. Archer pulled her back by her ankles, flattening her on her stomach beneath his crushing weight. Sliding his hand down her right flank, he reached under the hem of her dress. Briefly cupping her bottom, he forced his hand between her shifting thighs. Winnie struggled and writhed in his grasp but could not dislodge his hand. Archer easily palmed her shaved cunny. Pushing his two middle fingers between her cunny lips, he felt her slick heat.

  “I could smell your arousal,” he whispered. The stubble on his jaw scratching at her soft cheek.

  Whimpering feeling over-powered and vulnerable, Winnie could only renew her struggles. While excited, this ferocious side of him frightened her. It felt too real. As if she truly was about to be ravished by a wolf.

  Using the false but effective claws on his gloves, Archer tore her flimsy dress down the back, easily disposing of it and the crinoline, leaving Winnie in only her stockings and slippers. Gripping the edges with his teeth, he tore the gloves off, needing to feel her soft skin beneath his fingers.

  “Move up on all fours,” he ordered. His voice low and gravely with desire. Archer placed his hands on her hips, forcing her up in position before she could even obey.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked tremulously.

  “I already told you, little one. If I catch you, I will take you like an animal.”

  Winnie shuddered, not fully understanding what he meant but fully understanding the force and meaning behind his words.

  Archer released his straining cock from the tight confines of his breeches. Placing a firm hand on her middle back, he pushed Winnie down on to her forearms. Her bottom in the air. Fisting his cock, he rubbed the tip in her generous dew. She may protest but she liked this primal, unhinged game of his, thought Archer with a satisfied smile.

  Winnie’s position forced her bottom cheeks enticingly open, giving him a nice glimpse of both her fresh, pink cunny and the tiny rosebud of her hidden passage. Archer swirled the head of his cock against the softly puckered skin.

  “Oh…no…no…nothing there, please,” begged Winnie. Having already suffered through the indignity of another enema earlier today, she did not want him to put his finger in her still sore bottom.

  Archer ignored her pleas. Placing his thumb against the crown of his cock to steady his approach, he applied more pressure against her rosebud, using her own dew as lubricant. Watching as the small ring of muscle clenched, the skin whitening in her effort to forestall his entry. He pushed harder.

  Winnie could feel sharp stings each time he pushed against her dark passage. “Please stop, it’s too painful,” she cried.

  Archer thrust his hips forward. His cock broke through her resisting ring. Her small hole stretched open to accept the large, wide head before closing around the thick shaft.

  “Oh my god! Oh…no…no…stop!” sobbed Winnie. Sharp searing pain greeted his entry. It felt like he was driving his fist into her. This couldn’t just be his finger. It was too large, too thick.

  Reaching down, he rubbed his fingers along her cunny, collected her dew. Archer than spread her slick heat along his shaft to help ease his push deeper into her bottom. Reaching back, he brought his hand down hard on her left lower cheek, so hard it left a striking crimson hand print.

  Winnie screeched in shocked torment. The brief distraction causing her to unclench for a moment, allowing him to slip in another two inches.

  “Take it out! Take it out!” she cried, biting down on her knuckles.

  Archer pushed in deeper. Her tiny puckered entrance now smooth from being stretched thin around his thick member. Pulling back an inch, the thrust several inches forward. Playing with her bottom. Opening her. Relishing in the tight, grip her body had on his shaft. Giving her another spank, he was able to slip in to the base.

  “Papa has his cock up your tiny bottom, little one,” he said sharply, cutting through the cadence of her quick breathing. “You are such a good girl, taking all nine inches.”

  Winnie groaned in response. Her vision bleary with te
ars. Her bottom cheeks smarting from his spanks. Her bottom hole violated and hurting.

  “Ask Papa to fuck your bottom,” he commanded.

  “I can’t,” she tearfully whispered.

  Archer spanked her right bottom cheek again. He repeated, “Ask Papa to fuck your bottom.”

  “Please don’t make me,” she pleaded.

  Archer spanked her left cheek, this time even harder.

  Winnie relented. “Fuck…fuck my…bottom,” she stuttered.

  “Louder,” he growled.

  “Fuck my bottom,” she screamed as he pulled almost all the way out before thrusting deep. Winnie screamed again. The pain was indescribable. It felt like she was being torn apart from the inside.

  With each thrust, Archer pulled out till her small entrance pulled at the ridge around the head of his cock, stretching it open at his shaft’s widest point, before driving back into her tight, clenching warmth.

  “Where’s my cock?” he fiercely demanded.

  Winnie was sobbing too loudly to hear.

  “Where’s my cock?” he said louder, punctuating his question by reaching over her to squeeze one of her breasts.

  “In my bottom,” she moaned.

  “Do you like Papa’s cock in your bottom?”

  “No…it hurts,” she cried.

  “Should Papa take it out and force it down your throat?”

  Horrified at the idea, Winnie shook her head no.

  “I didn’t hear you, little one.”

  “No, Papa.”

  “Then show Papa you want his cock in your bottom by pushing back on it.”

  Reluctantly, Winnie braced herself on her forearms but paused.

  “Do it. Push back on my cock,” he said between powerful thrusts.

  Winnie shifted her hips back. Choking back an agonizing sob as the move caused a sharp burning ache.

  Archer pulled all the way out, watching as her abused bottom hole gaped open for a moment before slowly starting to close. He waited till she was once again tightly clenched before pushing the head of his cock against the now pink slightly tinged with red puckered entrance. Forcing Winnie to experience his first painful thrust up her bottom all over again.

  Reaching his left hand to cup and fondle her breast, he used his right to flick and play with her sensitive cunny.

  Winnie groaned as she felt the now familiar building sensation of a release but she resisted. This was too much. She couldn’t possibly find a release with this much painful misery!

  “Let go,” he breathed against her sweat slick back.

  “I can’t,” she whimpered.

  Archer rolled her clit between his thumb and finger at the same time he rolled her nipple the same way. Winnie moaned as she began to willingly push back on his cock. Archer knew his little one. Knew she needed the feverish bite of pain to find release. Knew the signs her body was sending him even as she protested.

  Feeling the tremors start deep inside her, Archer pinched her nipple and clit…hard, as he ground his hips so forcefully against her bottom he shoved her flat to the ground. The added pressure of his closed fist pushing into her cunny as his weight pushed her into the ground sent Winnie over the precipice. Reaching out, she tore the delicate paper flowers in her grasp to shreds as she yelled out her release.

  Archer could feel each and every convulsion ripple through her body as the intense release overtook her. Following close behind, he thrust deeply before howling his own release, pouring his seed into her dark passage before collapsing on her back. He then rolled to his side, taking her with him.

  Winnie laid there bewildered. In shock. It was her strongest release yet. It was so powerful. So all consuming. So intense. Turning her head, she looked up at Papa. He still had on the wolf mask, looking every bit as hungry and ferocious despite just having his lust sated. Winnie felt sore, used…wonderful.

  “Wait here,” he said with a kiss on her forehead.

  Winnie shivered, instantly feeling cold and bereft without his comforting warmth.

  Archer returned with the blue fabric “river”, tenderly covering her naked form with the impromptu blanket. Once he was again laying down by her side, he handing her a small box covered in pearls and opals.

  Winnie looked up at him questioningly.

  “It is the prize,” he offered, playfully.

  “But you found me first,” she said with a small pout.

  She had no idea how happy he was he found her first, thought Archer.

  “I wouldn’t deny my little one her prize,” he said rubbing his false snout against her neck, making her giggle.

  She opened the box to find a small diamond encrusted tiara. Turning her shocked dove gray eyes on him, she was speechless.

  “Every fairy princess needs a crown,” he teased as he nestled the tiara among her ribbons and silky strands.

  Chapter Ten

  As the months went by, the surprises continued. If she was a very good girl…and by that, Papa usually meant a naughty girl…by the week’s end Papa would have transformed the ballroom into another theatrical stage set, complete with costumes. Once it was a castle and he the dark prince. Another time, it was a far off island with real water and fishes surrounding the sandy parts. She a beautiful mermaid. He a marauding pirate. Yet another, they used the set from a recent production of The Tempest to rewrite the Bard’s play. Papa made for a very frisky Caliban!

  While Winnie still didn’t like the nappies or the almost daily nursing and she definitely didn’t like the enemas, there were things she did enjoy; like playing in her nursery, afternoon tea with nanny, a comforting bottle filled with warm milk and honey. After much cajoling she had even convinced Mrs. Bishop to allow her to read her favorite fashion illustration magazines. They would then spend hours playing dress-up and trying the different hairstyles.

  ~

  After Archer entered the nursery, he followed the sound of moaning sobs to find Winnie and her nanny in the bathing chamber. Winnie was on her hands and knees, an enema nozzle and hose protruding from her sore bottom. She was no longer restrained unless absolutely necessary, like when she was being fussy.

  “Please, Nanny, I can’t take all four pints today.”

  “You can and you will, little miss,” Mrs. Bishop sternly objected as she gave the enema bag a squeeze for good measure. Winnie fell forward as the soapy water entered at a faster rush causing a strong stomach cramp.

  “Oh, god,” she moaned in misery.

  “One more pint.”

  Winnie’s only response was a soft sob.

  Archer leaned against the door threshold and observed the domestic scene, loving Winnie’s supplicant position. How her cute bottom twitched and shimmied, making the little mole high on her left cheek dance about. Watching her tiny toes curl with each cramp. The fine sheen of sweat across her softly curved back giving her skin a rosy glow. He could feel his cock thicken.

  Clearing his throat, he entered the room.

  “Good morning, my lord,” greeted Mrs. Bishop gaily.

  Winnie looked over her shoulder and then buried her head in her forearms. She hated Papa seeing her like this. It was so humiliating.

  “I would like a moment alone with Winnie once you stop the flow.”

  “Of course, my lord. We are almost finished taking the full four pints up our bottom, aren’t we Winnie?”

  She groaned in response.

  “She will need to hold it for at least ten minutes,” instructed Mrs. Bishop as she removed the enema hose and clipped off the nozzle before quietly leaving the room.

  Archer reached between Winnie’s legs to stroke her cunny. “I see Mrs. Bishop shaved you this morning. Your sweet little cunny is all pink and smooth.”

  “Yes, Papa,” groaned Winnie as a particularly bad cramp hit her tummy. “Has it been ten minutes? I can’t hold it much longer. It really, really hurts!”

  “No, my dear, it has barely been two minutes. Perhaps I can take your mind off the pain.”

 
Archer released the buttons on his trousers, pulling out his cock. Stroking between her nether lips, he found she was not quite slick enough to take his girth, especially with the added pressure of four pints of water up her bottom. Walking over to the small table, he palmed a small amount of sweet almond oil before grasping his cock, coating the head and shaft. Taking a wide leg stance, behind her, he positioned his shaft at her entrance.

  Winnie felt the push and pressure at her cunny moments before his head slid in deep.

  “Oh no. Please, Papa! I beg you. Don’t!” she cried.

  Ignoring her, Archer drove in deep with the help of the sweet almond oil. The pressure of the enema making her already tight cunny even tighter.

  “Ow! Ow! Ow! Take it out! Please!” she sobbed. The rocking of her hips caused by his powerful thrusts caused wave after wave of spasms and cramps throughout her lower region. “Please, I can’t hold it in!”

  “You had better hold it in, little one, or you will get the spanking of your life,” warned Archer as he continued to thrust into her clenched cunny. Her body’s reaction to her stomach cramps sending ripples of pleasure up his shaft. His release was swift and forceful.

  Winnie continued to cry from the pain and humiliation at being taken so roughly during such a mortifying moment. She didn’t even get her own release.

  Archer cleaned himself up and went to stroke her hair. “Sometimes a little one needs to only think of her papa’s pleasure,” he murmured against her hair. Archer summoned Mrs. Bishop in to finish the enema but not before telling her to leave Winnie on the table. He was not through with her.

  After suffering through a second enema to be rinsed out, Winnie was expecting to be allowed to soak in a warm bath like always. She was surprised and dismayed when Mrs. Bishop instructed her to return to the hateful table.

  “But why?” she whined.

  “No nonsense or you will get a spanking! Now do as you are told!” she responded angrily.

  Winnie reluctantly returned to her kneeling position on the table just as Archer returned. Her cheeks red from a fierce blush, she refused to look his way.

  “Are we feeling better?” he asked gamely.