Daddy's Here(32)

Her bottom began to heat up as he spanked her, a heat that spread  through her until she barely knew where she was. She looked out at the  trees, the leaves blowing in the breeze, her mind leaving herself as his  hand landed again and again, the echoing smacking sounds spreading  through the room. His blows moved lower and then he landed a single  smack on her pussy, a stinging sensation that sent her shooting upright.

"I told you to stay in place," he growled, shoving her back down. "Do  not move again." He struck directly over the plug and she screamed, a  loud primal scream of freedom that seemed to exorcise her past even as  it sent her regressing back. The pain was good, the pain was love, the  ragged breathing of her Papa was evidence of his desire to teach her,  but also his desire to have her. When she heard his clothes being  removed, she didn't look, not wanting to incur his wrath.

A minute later, the tip of his cock was brushing between her legs, her  wetness sliding over his shaft as he moved against her, teasing his way  towards her entrance. She shuffled her hips, swaying back to try and  draw him in. He seemed oblivious, taking his time to stroke over her  until she couldn't help but beg him, "Please fuck me, Papa," she  muttered, spreading her legs and looking back at him. "Please."

"Hush, little Abbey," he replied, moving the tip to her entrance and  then sliding gloriously forwards. As he moved into her, she felt the  heat of his flesh on her inner walls, spreading and widening as her  wetness helped him glide ever deeper. She had expected the size of him  to hurt her but instead she just felt fuller than she ever had, a  sensation she wanted to last forever.

He pulled all the way back and then he was inside her again, a movement  that turned her mind to jelly, she was aching for him to enter her, then  too full of him then needing him again. All the time he kept moving,  his hand going to the plug, tugging and turning it in place, making her  cry out with noises she'd never heard herself make before, guttural,  animal sounds of pure lust.

She began pushing back against him, making him move faster, knowing what  was coming. She moved one hand under herself to her clit, remaining in  place with the other balanced on the windowsill. Touching her clit eased  the ache just enough but in seconds the ache was back, the need was  back, the want was back. She stroked her nub for mere seconds as he  slammed into her and then a climax hit her that was more powerful than  any she'd ever had in her life.

Her legs gave way and it was only the swift movement of his hands to her  hips that kept her from collapsing to the floor. Her whole body shook  with the power of it, her eyes losing their focus, her mouth open, her  core filled with spreading contractions of heat that moved through her  body whilst he continued to thrust into her.

A second orgasm hit before the first had even faded away, then a third.  Still he kept moving, faster and faster. "I can't take it," she  muttered. "It's too much."         

     



 

"Should I stop?" he asked, pausing inside her.

"No," she replied, pushing her hips back at him. "Never stop, for God's sake, never stop fucking me."

He rammed home into her, grinding against her hips, his shaft twitching  inside her. She didn't let him stop, pulling off him and turning to face  him, kissing him frantically, her body pressed against his. Together  they fell to the floor and then he was in her again, his body crushing  hers as he stared down into her eyes, his face a picture of lust. "Fuck,  you're amazing," he said, slamming into her again and again, her body  matching his motions until his mouth fell open and a groan emerged. "Oh  fuck." He buried himself in her and she felt his cock moving inside her,  a spurt of his cum gushing deep into her as he remained perfectly  still. She wrapped her legs round his back, her arms round his  shoulders, pulling him down onto her, holding him close, never wanting  to let him go ever again. "Thank you, Papa," she said, kissing him  softly as his eyes blinked open. "Thank you so much."





Chapter Thirteen





Abbey's father walked into the house, wincing as if not sure what was  awaiting him in there. His features changed when he saw a perfect home  waiting for him. The bookcases were filled, the furniture in place,  there was not a single box to be seen. "Abbey?" he shouted, putting his  case down. "Are you here?"

"Father!" she shouted, running downstairs and throwing her arms around him. "You're back."

"You seem in a very good mood," he replied, hugging her back. "Village  life must be good for you. You look full of the joys of Spring. And  you've tidied too."

"I'm just happy to see you. Come through, I'll make you a coffee."

"You'll make me a coffee? Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?"

"Stop it," she pouted, flicking the kettle on. "How was your trip? Everything all right?"

"Yes, thank you," he said, frowning slightly as he looked at her. "Are  you feeling guilty? Have you had a wild party or something while I was  away?"

"Nothing of the sort."

"What have you been up to then?"

"Oh, nothing much."

"Really? Did you get to know some of the locals like I suggested?"

"I did." She grinned broadly."

"And they liked you?"

"Eventually. In fact, I'm going out for tea at one of their houses this evening."

"Oh, really. What's her name?"

"Actually it's a he."

"Okay, what's his name?"

"Abbey paused, frowning slightly. "I don't know. I just call him by his nickname."

"You don't know his name but you're going to his house for tea? I'm not sure I understand. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Don't worry, Father, I'm absolutely fine."

She kissed his cheek and then headed out of the door, leaving him to  watch her through the window whilst wondering what had happened to her.  She was like a different person, skipping down the path like that.

Better not be late, Abbey thought. After all, Papa was waiting for her  with the plug in one hand and his new cane in the other. Her whole body  tingled at the thought of bending over whilst he brandished the cane  behind her. She grinned as she turned the corner and vanished from her  father's sight, heading instead to the house of her Papa.

She knocked on the door, waiting nervously as she heard movement within  the house. Papa was ready for her. "Come in," he said as he opened the  door. "I've laid things out for you upstairs."

He followed her through the hallway, she could feel his looming presence  behind her as she ascended the staircase to the first floor. Passing by  a closed door, she entered the next room on her left. Inside the bed  awaited her. On a table beside it was a cane, four lengths of black  rope, a silver metal buttplug and an incongruous dummy, so out of place  yet perfectly in keeping with the rest.

"On your front," Papa said, pointing at the bed.

She picked up the dummy on the way, sucking rapidly upon it as she lay  down and her wrists were bound to the corners of the bed. She attempted  to tug at the bonds, testing their strength but the knots were too well  done for her to move her hands more than a couple of inches in any  direction.

He bound her ankles in silence, only speaking once she was tied down to  the bed. "You've been a bad little girl," he said, landing a light swat  on her behind. "Haven't you?"         

     



 

"I had no choice," she mumbled through the dummy. "I had to wait for him to get home."

"No excuses. You left here without permission. You know that is forbidden."

"I am sorry, Papa."

"You will be," he said, picking up the plug.

She watched as he reverently applied oil to every inch of the plug,  carrying it behind her where she could not see what was happening. "I  will ask permission next time," she said. "Please, don't punish me."

"If I didn't, you would not learn," he replied.

She felt the plug sliding between her buttocks, nudging its way into  her, stretching her entrance as her clit began to throb, filling with  blood and desire for him. As the plug delved deeper, she moaned around  the dummy, wanting something more, wanting him. Just as she began to  wince with pain, thinking she could stretch no wider, it was in, held in  place by her muscles as he crossed to the cane, whipping it through the  air twice.

"This will hurt," he said, moving back out of sight. "But I only do it because I care about you."

"I know, Papa," she replied. It had been the same every day until her  father's return. He had spanked her for some infraction or other, each  time telling her it was because he cared. She had come to yearn for his  hand on her behind, the closeness she felt, pain intensifying her desire  for him, knowing he would soon be inside her.