Daddys Girl Pt 01 6

Mandie is feeling a little neglected with her Daddy away on business, so she does the one thing that she knows will get his attention: she misbehaves. She gets the spanking that she's hoping for, but then her Daddy takes her punishment a step further, and starts taking away privileges that she didn't know were on the table...Sensitive content warning, 10k words.

Content Tags/Warnings: Ageplay (between two consenting adults), specifically Daddy Dom/little girl dynamics; use of demeaning language, including slut-shaming and whorephobic language, in a consensual kink dynamic; spanking; discussion of/use of difficulty achieving orgasm for kink and fetish play

Mandie had big plans for the weekend.

She'd been alone all week. Sam--her husband and, more importantly, her Daddy--had been away since Monday night on a work trip.

Sure, he'd called her every night. They'd even had phone sex most of those nights, so she wasn't exactly deprived; he'd instructed her to use some of her favorite toys, talked her through some very satisfying orgasms with a dildo filling her up and a vibrator pressed to her clit, listening to his groans of satisfaction filtering through the audio of her cellphone.

But it wasn't the same. It wasn't the same as seeing him, as touching him--as being handled by him. He couldn't very well keep track of her behavior from across the ocean, and it left her at loose ends, feeling ignored and untended.

Mandie was ready to have her Daddy's attention firmly focused back on her, and she knew one sure-fire way to get his attention: to misbehave.

His flight from the UK was supposed to land at half past three on Friday afternoon, which meant he'd be waiting for her when she got home from work at six.

Around two-thirty, once he was safely in the air, she snuck into her work restroom and took a couple of photos. One with her shirt pulled down, tits popping out; another between her spread thighs, daisy-printed panties pulled to the side to expose a peek of her privates. She sent the pics to her Daddy, knowing he'd be stuck on the plane with no real opportunities to masturbate.

Then she fixed her clothes and hurried back to her desk, ignoring the flurry of chimes as he responded.

She'd signed up for the airline's app, too, so she got a notification when he landed. Three forty-five, practically on time. She got a text from him a minute later, saying that he was picking up his luggage and reaffirming that he expected to see her at six, and that they'd have a conversation then about her timing when it came to sending dirty pictures.

Mandie read the text, and then promptly turned her phone off. She turned to her coworkers sitting beside her.

"Hey, who's up for happy hour after work?"

***

It was almost eight when Mandie finally arrived home.

As soon as she pushed open the door, she felt the tension in the air. It sent a thrill up her spine, some animal corner of her mind responding to the stillness--that primal part of her that was so attuned to her Daddy's moods.

She was in trouble.

She found Sam in the living room. He was seated on the couch, still half-dressed from the flight--slacks and a partly unbuttoned shirt, his tie undone and draped over his shoulders. He looked almost relaxed, as if he'd just stopped there to watch TV.

But he wasn't looking at the TV; it wasn't even on. He was staring straight at Mandie.

In his hand was his belt, already folded over to make a strap.

"Daddy!" Mandie hurried into the living room. "You're home! I thought you wouldn't be here until tomorrow! My phone was off--"

"Mandie," he said, his voice heavy with the weight of having already decided how he was going to discipline her, "I know you saw the text I sent when I landed. The phone tells me you read it."

"Um." She stumbled to a stop and eyed the belt in his hand. "Oops."

"Yeah. Oops." He patted his lap. "Strip down. No, don't bother with your shirt and socks, I don't think you want to make me wait any longer."

Mandie's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she tugged off her leggings and her underwear, leaving her shirt to brush over her hips and her butt, not quite covering anything. Her half-dressed state made her feel even more vulnerable, emphasizing that she was baring herself to be disciplined, not for something more fun like sex.

She crossed the remaining distance in slow, hesitant steps, a few at a time, until Sam lost patience and reached out. He grabbed one of her hips, squeezing until his fingers dimpled into the soft skin of her asscheek. She squirmed and bit her lip, and he lifted an eyebrow.

"This was what you wanted, isn't it? A spanking? Don't bother to lie to me, now, you know I can always tell," he admonished, and Mandie flushed deeper, closing her mouth on the denial she'd about to try on. She just nodded instead, and he nodded in return. "I think you're starting to enjoy these spankings a bit too much. I'm not sure they're actually a deterrent at all for your misbehavior. But," he lifted a finger to stop her as she started to open her mouth again, ready to whine and beg for her spanking if she had to, "That's the consequence we agreed on for this kind of acting out, so you'll still get your spanking. And we'll talk about additional consequences after, because if I don't nip this in the bud, you're going to turn into an absolute terror."

"Yes, Daddy," Mandie said, abashed. He patted his lap, and she draped herself over it, presenting her bare buttocks. He placed his hand on her there--the one holding the belt, so she felt the smooth leather of it playing over her skin--and she shivered. "H-how many?"

"We'll see," he said ominously, giving her tush another firm squeeze, and then he started to spank her.

He started with the belt, a sharp sensation that made her jump and squeak and try to wince away from the pain; then he switched to his hand for a bit, building up a deep burn in her muscles that seeped down between her legs. Mandie tried to keep count, but by the time he switched back to the belt again, she'd lost track.

As the heat grew under her skin, her sounds of complaint turned to moans. Her pussy started to grow wet. Her squirms of avoidance became little rocking motions as she tried to grind into her Daddy's thigh.

"Are you trying to hump my leg?" Sam demanded, dropping the belt and grabbing her ass, digging his fingers into the red marks striping her skin.

She squealed and lurched forward, nodding frantically.

"Dirty girl. Misbehaving just so I'll spank you so you can get wet?" He slipped two fingers into her pussy, making her moan loudly and grind back onto his hand. "That's very naughty. We'll need to make some changes around here. I don't think this is an effective punishment at all."

"Daddy," she whimpered, humping back onto his fingers and shuddering. "Daddy, I'm sorry, I just missed you so much--"

"You missed me, or you missed my hand on your butt and my cock in your pussy?" He thrust his fingers in and out, making her whine and spread her thighs as her overheated cunt welcomed the stimulation, the stinging in her buttocks just multiplying the sensation. "I think if you missed me you would have been home on time." He punctuated the words with a couple more sharp slaps to her butt with his free hand, making her shudder as the pain in her backside transmuted to hot pleasure in her cunt.

"Daddy, I missed you, really, I promise! Please, please, please," she whimpered, squirming.

"Please what? You want me to fuck this naughty, wet little pussy now?" he asked, pumping his fingers into her more roughly still, making her gasp and arch her back. "Hmm? Is that what you want? Are you turning into a regular little slut for spanking? One pop across the butt and you're hungry for cock?"

"Yes, Daddy, yes," she admitted, shuddering and clenching on his fingers. "I'm a slut, please, I missed your cock so much, please--"

He whipped his fingers out of her and rolled her over, pushing her down into the couch as he unzipped his slacks. The sound made her shudder with anticipation as she drooled into the furniture, mouth hanging open--and then she cried out as his thick, hot cock pressed into her in one smooth motion, not giving her any time to adjust to being filled.

Daddy set a fast pace, pumping into her in hard strokes. The fabric of his slacks felt rough on her raw, recently-spanked ass.

It was amazing. It was everything Mandie had been hoping for. Within seconds, she was on the edge of coming, gasping and bawling noisily into the couch as her body shook.

On the edge. Only on the edge.

Because she just couldn't come from penetration alone, as her Daddy knew well enough.

There were only a few ways that Mandie could come. Her own fingers had never been enough to get her there, either; she needed her toys for that--one of her vibrators pressed firmly against her clit--or, if she was turned on enough, her Daddy's fingers could sometimes do the trick.

But like this, with no toys, no attention from her Daddy, he could fuck her all night if he wanted and she'd only ever be on the edge, suspended in glorious, unending, desperate pleasure.

She could tell, from the speed and ferocity with which Sam was thrusting into her, that he wasn't going to bother getting her off yet. He was aiming to finish himself, using her like a cocksleeve, and that just made her even wetter, until she was gasping and grunting with each thrust. "Uh. Uh. Daddy, uh--uh--"

"Little slut. Cock-whore. Tease," he growled. "Making me wait five--fucking--hours--"

He leaned back and slapped her across the ass, not particularly hard, but it was enough to re-ignite all the burning bruises from the spanking. Mandie squealed in surprise and clenched down hard around his cock.

"Yes," he snarled, and his cock began to spill inside her, pumping her full of Daddy's hot cum. "Fuck. You might be an awful brat, Mandie, but you've got a tight little cunt."

"Mmm," she whined, squirming and humping back on his cock as it twitched and gushed inside her. "Daddy, I missed you, I missed your cock, oh God..." she gasped dizzily as he began to draw out, leaving her empty and clenching. "Daddy, Daddy, please, can I play with my toys?"

He palmed her ass, rubbing his hand firmly over the sore flesh there, and then pressed it between her thighs, rubbing at the wet, sticky mess spilling out of her pussy. "That's what you want, hmm? You want to play with your special big girl toys so you can feel good, Mandie? Is your pussy all hot from that spanking and fucking?"

"Yes, yes," she whimpered, rocking back into his hand. "Daddy, please."

He huffed and gave her clenching pussy one more squeeze. "No."

Mandie bit her lip, confused. "Daddy, don't joke, it's not funny." She started to reach blindly for the table beside the couch, feeling for the drawer where they kept one of her smaller bullet vibrators conveniently at hand.

Sam's hand covered hers and squeezed. "I'm not joking, baby. Don't you remember what I said about consequences?"

She immediately whipped her head to look over her shoulder, eyes wide with disbelief. "But--I need it, please!"

"Oh, you need it? I've never heard of a little girl who needed to play with her toys. Toys are a privilege, and big girl toys are a privilege that depend on you showing some responsibility." He swatted her on the butt again and then on each of her thighs, making her bleat out a needy little sound and arch her back as her body automatically tried to position itself for more fucking. "And I think it's time that you, spoiled little brat, were reminded of that. While you were out running around town, I collected every single one of your toys and locked them up in the timer safe. One week."

"Daddy!" Mandie shrieked, shocked and dismayed. "But--but--I can't come without my toys!--Ooh," her complaints turned to a long moan when he grabbed her thigh and pushed a thumb into her clenching pussy, letting her rock back onto it.

"We'll see," he said, sounding amused. "If you're a really good girl, I might play with your naughty little clitty and help you come without your toys. Or maybe you'll just have to go without for a week--it won't kill you. Either way, I hope this will make some sort of impression on you."

As Mandie whimpered and fucked herself on his thick thumb, her pussy clenching and hot with need, she had to admit that she had some doubts about his confidence that this wouldn't kill her.

And she also had to admit that he was right: this was really making an impression.

***

Saturday was infinitely frustrating.

The spanking left Mandie well-bruised and sore, which she ordinarily loved; the constant twinges in the plush flesh of her ass kept her pussy turned all the way on, fluttering and dripping and ready to be fucked, ready to come.

Except she wasn't going to come.

Even worse, her Daddy was definitely aware of her condition, and relished in taking advantage of the "ready to be fucked" part. First thing Saturday morning, he grabbed her in the kitchen and bent her over the breakfast table, first fingering her just to demonstrate how wet she was before indulging in a leisurely morning fuck.

She moaned through it, acutely aware of every painstaking ripple of her body, overwhelmed with how the burning heat inside of her would provide the base for multiple body-shaking orgasms--if she only could get the stimulation she needed on her clit.

She whimpered when her Daddy filled her up with his cum again, her pussy jumping at the hot sensation, lightning shooting down her spine in response to his heavy groans of pleasure in her ear.

He laughed as he pulled out and she continued to whimper and squeeze her thighs together. "It sounds like you're having a tough time there, baby. Regretting your misbehavior yet?"

"No," Mandie insisted, her stubborn streak immediately rearing its head. "I'm fine, Daddy, I--mmm," she moaned in surprise when he rubbed a hand roughly over her twitching slit. "Ooh!"

He laughed again, and Mandie promised herself right then and there that she wasn't going to break. She wasn't going to let on how frustrated she was by this punishment. She couldn't let him think that this was a good idea.

Besides, the only way to make sure he didn't do this again would be to make him think that it wasn't working!

She would have to act unaffected, like she didn't care at all that she wasn't able to come, that she wasn't already desperate for it. It would be easy, right? She was a good actor. It would be easy.

Her resolve lasted until that afternoon.

That was when her Daddy fucked her a second time, rough and fast in the way that made her body shake with how close she was to coming, and then--and this was unfair, so it wasn't even really her fault--he took her into the bathroom and made her lay down in the shower so that he could spray her clean with the shower attachment.

"Ohh fuck, Daddy, Daddy," she wailed as soon as the warm water began to rain down on her sensitive pussy, her hips squirming and rocking automatically. "Ohh--ohh--"

"Stop moving around, baby, I can't get you clean," Sam chuckled, grabbing one of her thighs and pulling it even wider.

Mandie's mouth dropped open on a loud gasp at the corresponding throb of pleasure in her pent-up body. The water teased out another hard throb, and another, until it felt like a second heart was thundering away in the center of her pussy, pulsing with the need to come. The sensitivity in her clit surged and ebbed, making her certain every few seconds that she was about to come from the water alone.

But the seconds turned into minutes, and the teasing went on and on, and she didn't come. She just got more needy, more obsessed with the unsatisfied tension in her pussy, never quite reaching the edge.

"Daddy," she sobbed finally, her last thread of resolve breaking. "Please, please, I need to come so bad, please!"

"Spoiled little girl. You can't possibly need it that bad," he scolded. "It's been less than forty-eight hours since your last orgasm, and I know that for a fact."

"No-o, Daddy, I need it, I really, really do--no!" she whined as he turned off the water, leaving her now-clean pussy fluttering and gaping open, eager for more teasing, for more fucking.

"Well then, you'd better start thinking about what you need to do to make it up to me, hadn't you?" he said, patting the inside of one of her thighs and then rubbing her stomach. "Otherwise I see no problem at all with filling this little pussy up with my cum all week and not worrying one bit about the pleasure of the naughty little brat attached to it. It's been very relaxing so far."

Mandie gasped and shuddered, arching into his touch as her body throbbed hotly at his words. "Daddy..." she had to think for a moment about what he meant about making it up to him, and then she turned her face on him, doing her best to look penitent. "I'm really, really sorry?"

"Oh, I just bet you are," he laughed, and patted her stomach. "That's a good start."

She spread her thighs expectantly to make her clit easily accessible, biting her lip.

Sam smiled and shook his head, then stood and grabbed a towel from the rack. "Come on. Bath time is over."

***

Sunday was a little easier. As the sting in her buttocks eased off, Mandie was able to forget--sometimes--about how horny she was.

But that meant it was easy to forget that she was already in trouble, too.

So when Sam chastised her at lunch for playing with her food when she was done eating, the sass slipped right out: "Well, it's not like I'm allowed to play with anything else around here."

He gave her an arch look, and she immediately flushed.

"Never mind! I didn't mean it, Daddy, never mind."

"Oh, it's too late for 'never mind'." He gestured to the short princess skirt she was wearing, one of her favorite outfits for a weekend in. "Stand up and take that off."

"I said I didn't mean it!" she argued, but stood reluctantly. "You can't spank me again, I'm still sore from the last one!"

He tutted and reached over to pinch one of her buttcheeks, making her squirm at the hot bloom of pain and the arousal that followed it. "I'm not going to spank you. But if you're going to complain about having nothing to play with, you can go ahead and play with your naughty little clitty."

"No-o. I can't come like that, Daddy," she whined, though she knew he knew that; they'd spent plenty of time together exploring whether there was some way she could get off with her own fingers, and had never had any success. Her own touch just didn't feel as good as her Daddy's, or as her toys.

"I didn't say anything about coming. But if you're bored, you have a little toy right there you can play with." He leveled a sharp look at her. "No more complaining. I want to see you rubbing yourself while I finish my lunch."

Mandie bit her lip, but finally obeyed, spreading her legs and reaching down to rub her clit.

She gasped quietly at the first contact of her finger, the little zing of pleasure that was definitely stronger than anything she was used to feeling from her own touch--but any hope that might have evoked quickly faded. She grew wet quickly, and the wetter she was, the more her clit slipped and slid under her touch, robbing her of any of the friction that she craved, until she was just fiddling with it needily, teasing herself with brief flashes of sensation.

Daddy ate in silence for the duration, simply watching as she rubbed and kneaded, circled and pressed at her clit. The sound of her own shaky breathing soon filled her ears, little whines eking out on the exhales. Her hand itself was quickly drenched in her own juices, making it even harder to get a grip on the little organ that she so desperately wanted to stimulate.

When Daddy finished his lunch and pulled her into his lap, pulled her down onto his hard cock, she gasped and whined and continued trying desperately to rub at her clit, aching for the orgasm that remained just out of reach.