Fight Me, Daddy: Chapter 13
Chloe
Montreal, Canada
One month later
“Celui-là est mon préféré!”
Chloe looked up at her friend Marianne. “All of them are your favorites,” she laughed.
Chloe went back to arranging her jewelry inside the display case. She rented out the case at a cute jewelry boutique inside the Marche Bonsecours. It was a nice arrangement. The historic market was located on St. Paul Street in the heart of the tourist district of Montreal. On her own, she would never have been able to afford a shop in such a prime location, but she could afford to rent a display case inside of one and who knew? Perhaps one day she would have her own little shop. It would be just what she needed. A business to focus all her energies on. A business to fill the void.
Giving herself a mental shake, Chloe tried to force away thoughts of him. It had been one month and not one day, or truth be told, not one hour, had gone by without her thinking of Logan. The way he used to brush his knuckles down her cheek or teasingly pull on one of her curls. How sexy he’d looked dressed in only jeans with his bare, tattoo-covered chest as he moved about the cabin’s small kitchen making her that apple pancake. It was pathetic. Even the scent of coffee brought back memories of his large, tanned hands cupping a mug as he leaned nonchalantly against the doorjamb.
Then, of course, thoughts of his hands brought back thoughts of him bathing her in the shower, of him holding her down as he fucked her, of the feel of his hand as he disciplined her. She even missed his spankings. The feel of his leather belt after she had done something bad. The other day she had said the word fuck out loud, and tears had pricked her eyes when she realized no one cared if she used bad language. It was such a silly, little thing, but still. It hurt to think no one cared.
She missed her daddy.
For a few weeks, every time she heard a knock on the door, which was usually for the apartment next door and never for her, she thought it might be him. She would capture a glimpse of a tall man in a crowd, and her heart would skip for just the barest of moments till she realized it was not him. Even the ring of the little shop bell would always cause her stomach to flutter.
After a month, she had to come to terms with the fact that he had not come after her. She realized now that was one of the reasons why she’d run. True, she’d needed to prove to herself that she could create a life without anyone’s help, that she was capable of not making a hot mess of everything. Still, there was a small part of her that had hoped he would follow. That he would find her like he had done before. That would prove that she hadn’t just been a job. That she could see pride in her daddy’s face when he saw her pretty jewelry case.
“Non! Non! Dites-le en français,” admonished Marianne, bringing Chloe back to the present.
Chloe groaned. “Non! When I asked you to teach me French, it was because I thought everyone spoke only French here, and I would be lost. They don’t! Everyone speaks English too. I get along just fine.”
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. You are a very stubborn girl,” said Marianne as she wagged her finger at Chloe. “You need to learn your French if you are truly going to become a Montrealer.”
“I will. I will,” placated Chloe.
“How about a drink after work? There is someone I would like you to meet, yes?”
Marianne had tried to fix her up with countless friends, friends of friends, customers, even one man she met in a shop the other day. Chloe always said no. There had only truly been one man for her, and she’d ruined it.
Chloe shook her head. “No thank you. I think I will just head home early tonight.” Chloe locked her display and began to gather her things.
“Oh! How silly of me! I almost forgot. There was a handsome man in here while you were on the lower level chatting with the owner of the bookshop. He admired your jewelry. I tried to sell him something, but he said he wanted to meet the artist of such beautiful pieces and buy from her directly. He will be back tomorrow,” said Marianne.
Chloe nodded and thanked her before leaving. A week ago, maybe even a few days ago, a message like would have had her wondering, but not now.
Chloe rubbed her neck as she looked forlornly at the contents of her fridge. Indian food was Montreal’s counterpart to American Chinese take-out. She stared at the containers of samosas, chicken tandoori and shrimp vindaloo. She turned her nose up at it all. Again, as frequent as her own heartbeat, a thought of Logan came into her mind, unbidden. She could hear his voice chastising her for eating junk food and ordering her to eat a vegetable. Closing the fridge, she went into the bedroom to change out of her skirt and blouse and into a pair of jeans and t-shirt. Perhaps doing a little gardening would cheer her up. She rented a small apartment that was one of four in a small building on a quiet cul-de-sac. Her favorite part was the cute common garden in the backyard that all the renters worked in. It couldn’t replace the beautiful lake and surrounding woods of her uncle’s cabin, but it was a small piece of nature inside the city, and it was one of her few comforts.
Chloe was kneeling in the dirt when she heard a car pull up on the cul-de-sac. In Montreal, it was very popular to bike or walk. Cars were not as common as in America, so the sound of one in the gathering dusk struck her as odd. Rising, she brushed off the dirt from her knees and made her way into her apartment. As she was crossing through the kitchen, there was a knock…on her door this time. It was a deep, strong knock. The kind that rattled the door on its hinges.
She took a step back, gripping the metal heart charm around her neck.
“Chloe. Open the door.”
She stared at the door with wide eyes. He had found her. Oh god. He had found her. She suddenly couldn’t breathe. Her heart started to race. Chloe stood there frozen.
There was a long, excruciating pause.
Then.
“I know you are in there. I need you to open the door, babygirl.”
She had missed the dark command of his voice.
“Baby, I’m losing my patience. Trust me. You don’t want that.”
Snapping out of her shock, Chloe leaned over and turned the lock before taking a fidgety step back again.
She watched as the door knob slowly turned.
The old, wooden door swung open.
Logan.
Dressed in faded jeans and a fitted black t-shirt, she could see hints of his tattoos peeking out from the edge of his collar and sleeves. Rough stubble covered his jaw, and it looked like he hadn’t cut his hair in the month they’d been apart. Slightly longer, it fell in soft waves over his forehead and a little over his ears, but it was the dark, focused look in his blue eyes that arrested her.
“Daddy’s home,” he growled before kicking the door shut with his heavy motorcycle boot and dropping his black duffel on the floor.
Chloe backed up a step as she raised her hands protectively before her.
“I can explain!”
“Really? You can explain why you would run away from my protection? Why you would leave with nothing but this note!”
Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a well-worn, folded piece of paper.
Chloe’s heart lurched. He had kept her note.
“I needed to be on my own. To actually experience a real life, not one filled with chaos and blood or isolation and boredom, but just a normal life. I needed to feel that balance to know if…if what I felt for you was real and not just a rush from the passion and danger.” Chloe twisted her fingers in the hem of her t-shirt. Her voice wobbled a bit when she admitted, “I also needed to know if…if you would…well…if you…”
Logan took a step forward and cupped her jaw, tilting her face back. “If I would come after you? Is that what you are trying to say, babygirl?”
Chloe’s eyes filled with tears as she nodded yes. “I began to lose hope,” she said forlornly.
Logan took a lock of her hair between his forefinger and thumb and ran his hand down the silken length, giving it a tug at the end. “Baby, I was on your six before your taxi even got to the car rental place.”
Her brow wrinkled as she tried to understand what he was saying. “What do you mean?”
Logan ran his knuckles down her cheek. “How do you think you were able to get into Canada without a passport?”
“I…I didn’t know they changed the rules after 9/11 but the border agent took pity on me.”
Logan shook his head no.
“You?”
“Me. And you think you just found this apartment in one of the safest neighborhoods in Montreal with an easily defended cul-de-sac and a landlord who didn’t need a background check?”
“No! I met my landlord in a coffee shop! She said her granddaughter had just gotten married, and she needed a new renter, and she thought I had an honest face.”
Logan shook his head no. “Sorry, baby. She’s CSIS.”
“What the fuck is that?”
“Language,” he admonished sternly. “Canadian Secret Intelligence Service.”
“My sweet old lady landlord?”
Logan shrugged his shoulders. “It’s what makes her so good.”
Her lower lip shot out. “What about the jewelry case at the market? I suppose that was you too?”
Logan placed a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. “That was all you, baby. Hand to god. All you. And I am very proud of you.”
She beamed under his praise.
“So you’ve been here the whole month? Why…why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you—”
“Like you said, you needed to do this. I just couldn’t let you do it completely alone. I had to protect my baby. It’s what daddies do.”
Chloe’s cheeks pinkened. She’d missed him. She’d missed this.
Logan reached down to unbuckle his belt “Do you know what else daddies do?”
Her stomach flipped as she squeezed her thighs tight. She shook her head no as she slid her right foot back one tiny step.
“They punish little girls who lie.”
“I didn’t lie!”
Logan picked up the note she’d written. “I can’t fall in love with you. I can’t repeat my past mistakes,” he read. Holding the note up between two fingers, he raised an eyebrow at her as he accused, “Lie.”
“How is that a lie? I was telling you how I felt,” she complained.
Logan put down the note and unhooked the top button of his jeans. Chloe took another step back as her eyes widened in anticipation. He then pulled his t-shirt over his head, exposing his cut abs and inked skin.
Chloe licked her lips without thinking.
Logan took another step forward. “It’s a lie because we both know you were already in love with me.”
Chloe’s mouth fell open.
Logan kicked off one boot then the other. “Say it. You know what I want to hear.”
It was time. No more running. No more wondering if she was making a mistake. No more living under the shadow of her past. It was time to face her future. A future with Logan.
“I love you, Daddy,” she responded shyly.
Logan smiled. ‘Now, we are going to make sure you never forget it.”
Chloe bit her lip as he picked up his duffel bag and grabbed her by the upper arm, walking her through the apartment to the bedroom. For half an instant she wondered how he knew his way around but then realized who she was dealing with.
Leading her inside the room, he turned and shut the door. “Strip,” he ordered as he walked over to the bed. With one sweep of his arm, he had discarded the coverlet, blankets, throw pillows and stuffed animals she had displayed, leaving the bed bare except for the fitted sheet.
With shaking hands, she pulled her t-shirt over her head, self-conscious about her lack of a bra. She raised nervous eyes to him as her arms hovered over her middle, ready to cover herself at the slightest sign of disapproval. His appreciative gaze gave her confidence to reach for the zipper on her jeans. Pulling on the brass tab, the soft, pale skin of her lower abdomen came into view with just a hint of her pink lace panties. Grasping the waistband, she pushed the jeans over the swell of her hips and bottom, letting them slide to the floor.
“The panties too,” he ordered gruffly.
Dipping her thumbs along the lace edge, she slowly lowered the flimsy fabric till the faint curls of her pussy were visible. The delicate fabric fell over the bright yellow nail polish covering her toes before she kicked them aside.
“Lie back on the bed and close your eyes.”
Chloe hesitantly did as he ordered. The building anticipation for whatever unknown punishment he had planned twisting her stomach and making it hard for her to breathe. The sheet felt cool against her heated skin as she laid on her back, her arms stiffly at her side.
“Close your eyes and open your legs.”
Chloe bit her lip. “Please, please don’t…don’t use your belt on my pussy,” she begged.
The bed dipped as Logan placed a hand on either side of her head and leaned in close. His breath smelled of coffee, his skin the astringent bite of his aftershave. “If I want to take my belt to that pretty little pussy of yours, I will. You have earned this punishment, babygirl, and I won’t have you dictating how I deliver it.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she whimpered as her fingernails anxiously scraped at the tight fitting sheet.
“Now open your legs wide.”
Chloe reluctantly opened her legs, fighting the urge to place her hands protectively between them. There was a long stretch of silence, then she could hear him moving about the room. The sound of his duffel bag being unzipped. The scrape of a chair. The soft whoosh of his belt being pulled from his jean loops. The hollow metal jangle of the buckle. He must be folding it in half getting ready to punish her, she reasoned as a tear escaped her closed lids. Her apprehension increased with each passing second. It was as if she could feel her heart thudding and thumping in her chest. The blood pumping to every heightened nerve in her body. She dreaded the punishment but craved the absolution through pain it would bring.
Chloe gave out a startled gasp when the cool, silky feel of liquid hit her stomach. “Oh! What?”
“Shhh…” he admonished as the liquid continued to pour over her stomach, the top of her thighs, her breasts and over her pussy.
The sweet smell of baby powder made her realize he was pouring baby oil on her body.
“Now touch yourself,” he commanded.
“Where, Daddy?” she obediently responded. Her body already responding to the idea of him watching her touch herself as he poured oil over her skin.
“Start with your breasts. Rub the oil in. Test their weight. Pinch your own nipples.”
Chloe did as he charged, dipping the edge of her fingertips in the skin warmed oil. Sliding her fingers through it, she moved her hand in sweeping circles over her flat stomach edging toward her breasts. Cupping them from the underside, she ran a hand over each breast, coating them in the baby oil, spurred on by the subtle increase in his breathing, a harsh masculine sound in the quiet room. Gently rolling her nipples between her forefinger and thumb, she felt the nubs harden and become even more sensitive with her touch.
“Move lower. Touch your cunt.” His voice raspy and thick as he uttered the dark command.
Instinctively raising her knees, her hands glided down her middle to rest between her thighs. As her fingers began to play over the folds, she could feel warm oil drip down on them.
“That’s it, baby. Tilt your bottom up. Display that cunt for your daddy.”
Chloe raised her hips, tilting her bottom as she opened her knees wider. Flattening her fingers, she ran her right hand over her pussy, using the top edge of her palm to apply pressure over her clit. She could feel the bed dip. It felt as though he had just knelt between her open legs. Her suspicion was confirmed when she felt his warm hands on her inner thighs. Running them down, one hand rested on her abdomen the other over her pussy.
“You look so beautiful. Your creamy skin catching the light and sparking from the oil as you wait your daddy’s next command,” he murmured as he pressed the tip of his finger between her folds, circling and teasing her clit.
“Are you going to cum for your daddy?”
Chloe nodded her head as she pushed her hips up even higher, grinding against his hand.
“Say it. Say you’re going to be a good girl and cum for your daddy.”
Chloe’s voice sounded strained as she panted out. “Please, Daddy. I will be a good girl. Please! Oh god!”
He pushed two fingers inside her, hooking the tips as he swirled and thrust in a perfect rhythm with the pressure of his thumb against her sensitive nub.
Chloe felt a tightness in her chest. The emotion of feeling his touch almost overwhelming. She’d gone from thinking she may never hear his voice or see his face again to having him here now. Everything from the scrape of his stubble against her cheek, to the rough feel of his hand, to the sound of his voice whispering dark commands…every sensation, every touch, every smell, every sound…affected her. With a cry, she obeyed her daddy. Squeezing her thighs tight, she captured his arm between her legs as she pumped her hips, gripping the sheets. Holding her breath as wave after pleasurable wave washed over her.
“Good girl,” he murmured as he caressed her stomach in soothing circles, drawing patterns on her baby oil slick skin. “Now, I need you to flip over onto your knees and put your bottom up high in the air. It’s time for your punishment.”
Chloe’s eyes sprang open. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said sternly.
“But…but I thought,” she stammered.
“You thought what? That because I let you cum that you weren’t still going to get punished?”
“Well…”
“On your knees.”
Chloe flipped onto her stomach then raised up on her hands and knees.
“Place your cheek on the mattress.”
Chloe obeyed. The fragrant scent of baby oil strong as her face brushed the sheets.
She could hear him pop the top on the baby oil, then there was the now familiar feeling of cool oil dribbling over her skin. It fell over the swell of her bottom and slid down the back of her thighs.
“Reach back and open your cheeks for me.”
A sob escaped her lips as she now guessed his intentions. “Please, Daddy. I’m not ready.”
“You should have thought about that before you didn’t trust me and ran away.”
With a resigned whimper, she reached back. Placing the tips of her fingers along her curves, she tried to open her bottom cheeks as he instructed, but her skin was too slippery.
“I can’t. I can’t get a grip.”
“You are not trying hard enough. Would you like some help from my belt?”
“No, Daddy.”
Chloe felt a tightening around her shoulder blades as she stretched her arms further, forcing her fingertips deeper between her cheeks, opening them. The moment she was exposed to his gaze, she felt the oil pour over her puckered, hidden hole. It twitched and fluttered as she instinctively clenched that tight, untried entrance. Oh god, she thought. This was happening. He was going to punish her by punishing her asshole.
Chloe pressed her forehead into the mattress, as she waited in pained dread. She could hear the rustle of him once again rummaging in his duffel bag.
The bed dipped.
She held her breath.
“Tilt your head to the side and open your eyes.”
Chloe moved her head. Logan had removed his jeans. His large shaft was jutting forward. Thick and straight.
“Open your mouth. Nice and wide.”
Was he going to make her suck his cock before fucking her ass, she wondered. Reluctantly, she opened her mouth but quickly shut it when she saw what was in his hand. It was a strand of large, purple anal beads. Each of the five balls over an inch and a half in diameter.
Releasing her hold on her buttocks, Chloe used her hands to push herself up. “You can’t, Logan! It will hurt too much!” she exclaimed.
“What did you just call me?” he growled. His hand fell on her bare bottom with a loud smack.
She could instantly visualize the red handprint that no doubt bloomed against her ass as the impact of the heated sting spread over her lower back and up her spine.
“I mean Daddy. Please, Daddy. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry I ran, but please! Please don’t do this. I just can’t,” she sobbed as her head fell back to the sheets. Her face a mask of despair and fear.
She peeked up at his stern countenance to see if he was moved by her plea. She was met by a cold, hard stare.
“I will give you to the count of two to open your mouth,” he cautioned.
Chloe whimpered. Her jaw clenched. She could feel her teeth scrape against one another as she fought against her own unwillingness to accept the punishment he had planned. This was a turning point. She either gave fully of herself and committed to this part of their relationship, or she walked away for good. There was no halfway with a man like Logan. This may have never been hers or his kink before, but it was something they now shared. A dynamic they naturally gravitated too. This would be their dynamic. A daddy with his little girl. Her daddy dominant.
And she wanted it. Wanted all of it. His belt. The punishments. His rules. His commands. She wanted it. Wanted him. Wanted to bend to his will. Wanted to feel his cock push into her as he forcefully took what he wanted from her body. It was through him she finally let go of her guilt. It was through him and his dominating influence that she finally moved forward with her life. It all came back to him.
By representing the very embodiment of her demons, he had become her avenging angel.
Chloe opened her mouth before he had even said the word “one”.
Logan smiled. “Good girl. Now show Daddy how you can suck that ball. Get it nice and wet.”
Chloe cringed at the unappealing plastic taste as she accepted the first anal bead into her mouth. Swirling her tongue over the smooth surface, she got it nice and wet for her daddy.
“Now let’s see you fit another one in that cute, little mouth of yours.”
Logan pressed the second purple ball past her lips.
Chloe struggled to move her tongue around the second ball. Her mouth felt awkwardly full.
“And now a third.”
Chloe whimpered and tried to protest, but the two large plastic balls in her mouth prevented anything intelligible. Instead, she tried shaking her head and pleading with her eyes.
Her daddy ignored her. He rubbed the smooth surface of the ball along her lower lip. “Open up for Daddy.”
Chloe opened her lips as wide as she could. One of the balls was sitting in the center of her tongue, preventing him from pushing in the third ball. She secretly hoped he saw that and would give up the idea of making her suck three balls. She was wrong.
She watched in horror as his arm raised high. Her cries were useless. It was too late. As if it were slow-motion, she saw his arm swing in an arch and felt his hand make contact with the vulnerable area above her thigh, but just below the undercurve of her ass. Her sit spot. He didn’t stop at one spank but peppered both thighs with a series of brutal hits. Chloe was sobbing and choking as she tried to scream around the objects in her mouth. Her bottom felt like it was on fire, a thousand hot pin pricks radiated over her skin.
“Is my baby ready to listen?”
Shaking her head in an exaggerated motion so he would be left in no doubt of her acquiescence, Chloe nodded an emphatic yes.
“Good. Now push your tongue between the balls and make room for the third one.”
She did as she was told, pushing the other two purple balls to the hollow of her cheeks. He placed the third ball in the center of her tongue. Chloe choked but kept the ball tucked in her mouth. It was impossible to move her tongue anymore. She could feel a small dribble of spittle form in the corner of her mouth as she strained to keep the three balls inside. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment from the image she must present with her cheeks pushed out from the anal beads.
Logan ran a hand down her back, caressing her between the shoulder blades before gliding his hand over her bottom. While he’d not admonished her for releasing her hold of her buttocks, that didn’t mean he was going to leave them closed. She could feel his fingers press between her cheeks and the tip of his finger circling her puckered hole. He applied subtle force till the oil-slick tip pushed past her feeble resistance and slipped inside. Her body clenched around the intrusive digit.
“Now, I want you to imagine what it is going to feel like when I push each one of the balls up inside your body.”
Chloe’s eyes grew wide. She made an awkward sucking sound as she struggled to contain the anal beads in her mouth. The image of these large balls inside her tiny bottom made her stomach flip with fear.
“Each ball one by one till your bottom feels as full as your mouth does now. Would my babygirl like that?”
Chloe shook her head no.
“Does my babygirl deserve it?”
Mournfully, Chloe nodded her head yes. Yes, she did deserve this punishment and probably more. As much as she feared it, she craved the release only the pain of his punishments could give.
Logan gently pulled on the string, one bead popped free. The second two easily slipping from between her lips.
Chloe buried her face in the sheets as he moved to stand behind her bent form.
She could feel him run the first bead over her lower back. Swirling it in circles over her skin. Coating it with the baby oil already warmed by her own body. With each pass of the bead, the dreadful anticipation increased. Her breath came out in harsh gasps as she waited…waited for her real punishment to begin.
He moved the bead to rest at the top of her ass, after pausing for just a moment, he slid the bead down the crease. Again, he paused at her pussy entrance. Still sensitive from her recent orgasm, the slight pressure sent a jolt of sensation between her thighs. She could then feel him move the bead back up the crease. This time applying more pressure so it divided her cheeks. He stopped over her hidden entrance. She could feel him wedge his fingertips between her cheeks and force her left cheek to the side, giving his right hand access to her tight hole. Pressing the top of the bead against her asshole, he started to push.
Chloe sucked in a breath. Her body resisted. Pushed back. Denied him.
But he would not be rebuffed.
He pushed harder. Her body could not hold back the forced intrusion of the smooth, oiled object. She felt a sharp stab of pain as her entrance opened, and the ball was pushed in before her hole quickly closed up around the string. It felt extremely odd. Very different from when he’d just pushed the tips of his fingers inside her before.
Chloe could feel the slight tug on the string before she felt the press of the second ball at her asshole. Gripping the sheets, she tried to accept her punishment but couldn’t. Her body still resisted.
“Don’t fight me. Do you need another reminder of what happens when you don’t give in?”
“No,” she whispered. Her voice hoarse from strain.
The second bead pushed against her entrance. Like the first, it slid in the moment her body weakened.
“Oh! Oh! Oh! I…I…it…oh!” Chloe’s breath came in sharp gasps as she struggled to put to words how she felt about the unwelcome sensation.
“Remember how full your mouth felt? Remember how you struggled to keep all three balls inside that tiny space?”
“Oh god!” she whined.
Again there was the slight tug of the string before the third ball was pressing for entry. The delicate skin around her back entrance was pinched between the second and third ball. The discomfort causing her body to release and allow the third ball to slip in. She could feel the other two slide deeper into her body. Her hips shifted from side to side as her toes curled. It felt uncomfortable. Full. Wrong.
“Is my babygirl ready to accept the fourth bead?”
“But, Daddy. I thought you were only going to do three,” she whined.
“No. I could only fit three in that little mouth of yours without choking you. Your body will accept all five beads, little one.”
“No! Please. It already hurts! Five is too many!” she complained.
Chloe could feel the fourth bead being pressed against her body. He was not going to listen to her pleas. She had earned this punishment, and he would see she took it in full measure. The fourth bead pressed. By now the clenching ring of muscle protecting her hidden entrance was weak and ineffective. The fourth bead slid into her body with no resistance. The other beads shifted. Chloe moaned. She could feel her inner muscles cramp as they tightened around the foreign objects. Her stomach twisted. She raised her feet high as her hips fell to the mattress. The tightening of her abdomen the moment her body flattened against the bed only made things worse. She quickly went back up onto her knees, desperate to find some position, some movement that would ease the increasing soreness emanating from deep within her body but there was nothing. There was no escape from the intrusion, from the building pain.
“Now the fifth bead.”
Chloe started to sob. “No, Daddy. No! It’s full. It’s full. It won’t fit.”
He pressed the final anal bead against her asshole.
Chloe screeched and flattened her hips again. Falling to the bed as she cried with abandon.
“Raise up on your knees,” he growled.
“I can’t. Please! It’s full. You’ll tear me.”
“Raise up on your knees, or I will rip those beads out of your ass and plow into you with my much thicker, much longer cock. You think you feel full now?” he angrily shouted.
Petrified of the thought of him fucking her bottom with his cock in anger, Chloe quickly obeyed. “Sorry, Daddy,” she sniffled.
Once again, she could feel the bead press against her delicate skin. Then nothing. Her moment of relief was shattered when she felt the bed dip. Turning to look over her shoulder, she saw that her daddy had placed one knee on the bed, between her legs. She could feel him place his free hand on her lower back. Pushing down with his hand, her forced her hips lower which caused her bottom to jut out and up just a little further. The pressure increased on the bead. Chloe gave out a cry of agony when she submitted, and the last bead popped in. Her whole body clenched and twisted. She felt full as if her body had been taken over.
Possessed.
Dominated.
A humbling mixture of humiliation and pain. No matter how she moved, even when she breathed, she could feel them deep inside her. Solid evidence of his ownership of her and her body.
The bed dipped again. She barely felt it when his hands ran up her thighs and over her bottom. His knees pressed against her own, pushing her legs wider. She then felt the smooth head of his cock at her pussy entrance. She knew it was futile to protest. Reaching up, her hands closed around the iron bars of the headboard. The cold metal gave her strange comfort as she braced for his first thrust.
“Is my babygirl ready for her daddy to fuck her pussy?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Does my babygirl want it to hurt?”
Chloe sucked in a breath. The coarse bluntness of his question catching her off-guard but it was the brutal honesty of her answer that shook her to her core.
“Yes, Daddy.”
His hard cock thrust in.
She thought she had felt full…violated…before, but it did not compare to having both his thick shaft and the five anal beads forced into her tiny body. He pulled out and thrust back in again. She screamed in pain. He thrust again. Then again. And again. The pain twisted, morphed. Her sense of self shattered. She was only her body.
She was only this moment.
There was no past.
Only him.
Her daddy.
His fingers dug into her hips as he pounded into her flesh.
“Cum for Daddy,” he ground out.
She obeyed, never having felt such a soul-stealing, crushing, overpowering orgasm in her life. He had stripped her bare, physically and mentally. And the raw beauty, the raw honesty of it all, allowed her to completely and fully let go. Through the roaring in her ears, she could hear his primal shout before feeling the hot liquid of his cum on her back. Her knees gave out. She collapsed on the bed. The heavy weight of his body soon followed. The room was silent except for the intermingled sound of their own rapid breaths.
Logan stretched down and grabbed a t-shirt that was lying on the floor. He gently wiped it over her back, bottom and thighs. Balling the fabric up and tossing it back on the floor, he turned on his side, resting his head on his elbow to stare at her.
“Well? What did you think of your punishment?”
Chloe gave him a shy smile.
“I think I may be tempted to misbehave again.”
This man broke her into tiny pieces only to piece her back together each time he made love to her. It was a scary thing to contemplate. Someone having the power to affect you so deeply they shatter your soul. Good thing that someone was her daddy.
“You may want to rethink that.” His voice held a hint of amusement.
Catching onto his playful tone, Chloe reached up to run her smooth palm over his rough stubble. “And why is that?”
Logan reached down and gave the anal bead string a sharp tug.
“Because your punishment isn’t over, I still have to remove the beads.”
Chloe buried her head against his chest. His strong arms wrapped around her, cuddling her close.
His warm hand ran down her back…once more grasping the string…he pulled. Hard.
Hours later, she was tucked on his lap being spoon fed the chicken noodle soup he had just made for her from scratch. After their mind-blowing sex, he had gently bathed her and placed her in her fuzzy pink onesie. He’d given her a hot cup of tea with extra honey, and she’d sat curled on the sofa, watching him cook the soup in her small kitchen. Then placing her his lap, he’d insisted on being the one to feed her.
In the middle of him admonishing her about her horrible eating habits and stating that from this point forward he would see that she ate healthy and took better care of herself, she said, “I really do love you, well I mean…I just wanted to say that I didn’t just say it earlier for the…just for…you know!”
She waited. Biting her lip anxiously, she wondered how the most powerful and dangerous man she had ever met would feel about a woman-child dressed in fuzzy pink PJs declaring her love.
He caught a single curl between his finger and thumb and gave it an affectionate tug. “I love you too, babygirl.”
Chloe let out the breath she had been holding. Twisting her hands in her lap, she hesitantly asked him a question that had been bothering her, “When we checked into the hotel, how come I saw a ‘J on your credit card?”
Logan smiled. “I knew I couldn’t get anything past you. The ‘J’ stands for Joseph, my first name. I go by my middle name, Logan.”
“Oh!”
Chloe was relieved. She knew in time she would ask him more questions about his past, about what he did for living but not now. Now. In this moment, the past didn’t exist. Only the future, their future, mattered.
Although there was just one more thing she needed to know before they could truly move forward.
After swallowing another savory bite of the warm soup, she said, “May I ask another question?”
“Babygirl, I want no more secrets between us. You may ask me anything you want.” His voice was filled with warm, honest affection.
Bolstered by his encouraging tone, she asked, “What is your last name?”
Logan threw his head back with laughter as he hugged her close.
“It’s not funny! Do you realize I have no idea who you really are, what your name is?” she complained as she lightly slapped his hard chest.
“You know my name and who I am,” he said as he cupped her jaw staring at her intently with those brilliant blue eyes that always drew her in.
At her questioning look he said, “I’m your daddy.”