by Emily Tilton
Lindsay knew how important it was to Rick to make sure he gave her not only what he wanted to give her, but what she wanted and needed, too. She knew that he would never even consider taking off his thick, stout leather belt and whipping her little bottom with it unless he could make himself certain that part of his little girl needed to learn that terrifying kind of lesson.
For my own good.
Little Linnie needed a belt whipping, for her own good.
“Look at me, pumpkin,” Rick said a little sternly.
Lindsay lifted her face and opened her eyes, the tension in her arms making her bite her lip as she met her daddy’s penetrating gaze.
“I think you know what I’m asking,” he said slowly and seriously. “If you’re not ready to tell me about what happened today, we can forget about it, and come back to it when you’re ready.”
Lindsay felt her eyes go wide. “No,” she blurted out. “This... this is a good way, Daddy.” Then she gave a tiny whimper, because her pussy had clenched in the lacy white panties.
Rick smiled gently at the sound, and then he nodded. “Alright, little Linnie,” he said, his voice now very businesslike and strict. “Daddy has to whip you—that’s very clear, and I don’t need to know anything more than what I learned just from sniffing the air in my car. You played with Daddy’s little pussy without permission, right there in Daddy’s car, and so you’re going to get a hiding, now.”
His hands went to his belt buckle. Lindsay’s jaw dropped, and her heart pounded. How could her daddy switch gears like that? She had thought she would have a chance to... to plead... to say she was sorry and couldn’t she get the belt next time?
“You’d better fess up to anything else you did, too, Lindsay. If I find out later that you touched yourself more than that, like maybe in bed this morning, you’ll get the belt even worse, with extra for lying.”
Her hands flew off her head and went behind her, and she backed into Rick’s bed so forcefully that she fell down onto her bottom, with her hands under it for extra protection.
“Please, Daddy. I... I played... I used the... the toy...”
Rick nodded solemnly. “Where, pumpkin? In bed?”
Lindsay nodded herself, but miserably. “And...”
“And?” her daddy asked, frowning.
“And I touched myself in the shower,” she whispered, lowering her eyes to his shoes again.
“Three times, little Linnie?” Rick asked. “How many times did you come?”
Lindsay’s cheeks burned. “Don’t know,” she mumbled. Then a strange thrill of hope came into her chest. She looked up. “I missed you so much, Daddy. You know that, right?”
She saw it: he couldn’t help smiling. “I know, pumpkin. Daddy missed you too. Now that I have a little girl to take care of, and to play with, and have very big girl time with, it’s hard to be apart. But what should you have done? Stand up, now, and put those hands back on your head. You’re not to cover up your little backside when you know you have a bare-bottom whipping coming.”
But now she couldn’t obey her daddy. She felt so scared for her little bottom, because she saw his hands unfastening the belt buckle now, and starting to tug at the heavy silver. Lindsay didn’t stand up: instead she tried to scoot backwards on the bed, away from Rick. She saw a very thoughtful frown cross his face, as if he were trying to decide whether Lindsay’s fear meant he should stop their play. She felt her nose wrinkle as she looked back at him, and she watched him take in the tiny movement, and draw what Lindsay knew despite the butterflies in her tummy was the right conclusion: little Linnie needed a hiding, and her daddy mustn’t hesitate to administer it.
Rick closed the distance to his bed, and though Lindsay tried to scramble further up it, he took her by her arm and flipped her over onto her tummy. She yelped at the suddenness of it, and she tried to move away, to the other side of the bed, thinking she would get off the bed and run away, despite everything she had decided. She wouldn’t run out of Rick’s apartment, certainly, even if she could manage to grab her clothes to put on in the hallway or something. She wouldn’t even run out of the bedroom; she’d get off the bed and go to the wall and stand tightly against it with her hands at her sides to defend her backside. Then she would talk to her daddy about maybe getting her sentence commuted to a hand spanking this time.
But, “No, pumpkin,” her daddy said, and he held her on her tummy on the bed. He didn’t have his belt in his hand yet—Lindsay hadn’t even let him get that far before she decided to try to escape. With his hands free, he could hold her down with his right hand and grab a pillow with his left. Lindsay’s heart raced as she tried to figure out what the pillow might be for, and then she whimpered when he rolled her up on her side for an instant and shoved it under her hips.
To raise my bottom, she thought, the whimper becoming a little sob at the thought and at the sensation of having her backside lifted up like that. To raise my bottom for my whipping.
“This is how I give a belt whipping, pumpkin,” Daddy said. “On my bed or your bed, the way a naughty child gets a hiding at home. Now take down your panties for me.”
Lindsay gave a little cry. The lacy white panties gave no protection at all from the stout leather that would soon come down across her pert cheeks, but how could she obey her daddy? How could she do that herself?
She heard something. She heard a sliding noise, a slithering. Leather coming out of belt loops.
“Oh, no,” little Linnie wailed softly, turning her head to see that Daddy was making the sound; he was doing it at last, taking off his belt so that he could whip her bare bottom with it.
“Do it, Lindsay,” he said sternly, doubling the belt and winding it around his hand. “Panties down right now. If I have to start whipping you with your underwear still up, those won’t count.”
“Please, Daddy,” she sobbed. “Please, no.”
Then, taking her by surprise, Rick stopped being patient. She watched her daddy as if in slow motion as he put his left hand on her back to hold her in place, and his right hand went up, and then it came down again, with a soft whistling sound and then a terrible crack.
For a tiny moment, it didn’t feel like anything. Lindsay watched his arm go up again before she felt the pain. Then it hurt so bad she gasped and her whole body writhed, but Rick held her backside where it was and whipped her again and again.
“Daddy! I’ll take them down!” she screamed. “I’ll take them down!”
Chapter Eight
“Go ahead and do that, pumpkin,” Rick said. He relaxed the pressure of his hand on his little girl’s back, so that she could move her hands around and hook her thumbs in the waistband of the little white panties. Her bottom-cheeks already looked pink in the light from the bedside lamp, and he felt confident that he had given her a proper taste of what the belt could feel like.
Her hands hesitated for a moment.
“Get them down, Lindsay,” Rick growled. “I don’t want to whip your hands, but I will if I have to.”
She gave a little cry, and she moved over the pillow to obey him, curling her body a little so she could draw the lacy underwear down to just above her knees. Rick’s cock swelled as he noticed that she seemed to try to hide her sweet pussy from her daddy, the way a little girl might, out of embarrassment. As Lindsay pulled the panties down, she turned a bit onto her left side, rather than her right, so that Rick couldn’t see the naughty place she had touched without permission.
“Pumpkin,” he said sternly. “You know Daddy gets to see your pussy.”
Lindsay gave a cry at that, so full of shame and need that it rent Rick’s heart even as it made his cock leap in his jeans. She cast him a glance back over her shoulder as she scrambled back over the pillow, her face propped up on her elbows and her knees tightly closed, with the panties in a pretty little tangle around them.
“Do you know that, little Linnie?” Rick asked.
Lindsay didn’t answer, but bit her lip, a crease in her forehead.
Rick put his left hand on her back again, firmly. Lindsay cried out as she understood what would happen now, and she tried to get her hands out from under her to throw them back behind her, but her daddy didn’t hesitate at all. He raised the belt and brought it down, and he did it over and over, the way a man gives his little girl a real belt whipping, a real old-fashioned hiding, when she’s been very naughty and needs it for her own good.
Lindsay screamed and struggled over the pillow. Her hands did fly back, but Rick imprisoned her wrists atop her back and held her firmly in place on the bed, barely pausing in the rhythm of the strict whipping he had determined his little girl should have.
“Daddy, please... please... please, stop, Daddy... it hurts so much,” Lindsay sobbed as the belt came down again and again on her young bottom. Rick kept her in place despite her writhing, and went on whipping her. He moved the lashes of the belt from cheek to cheek, then up and down her thighs, making sure to turn the whole area from waist to knees a bright, glowing pink.
“Does Daddy get to see your pussy, Lindsay?” he asked, still bringing the belt down hard and rapidly. “Who does Daddy’s little girl’s pussy belong to? This doesn’t feel as nice as what you were doing in Daddy’s car in the parking lot, does it?”
“It’s yours, Daddy,” Lindsay wailed. “It’s yours! Please, stop! I’ll show you!”
She spread her knees then, as far as she could with the stretchy fabric of her panties around them. Rick’s cock grew as hard as an iron bar at the lewd, lovely sight: his little girl’s private pout, bare for his pleasure, presented over the pillow for his inspection.
He took the belt from his right hand and coiled it back up again. He laid it on Lindsay’s back, and she gave a tiny cry as she realized what he had put there: a promise that her whipping was done for now, but also that her daddy wouldn’t hesitate to tan her hide again if he must.
“Please, Daddy,” she begged. Part of Rick wanted to make her tell him exactly what that please meant, but he decided to leave it a mystery. He put his left hand gently on her tailbone, and Lindsay whimpered. He bent down, bringing his face close to the shadowy valley of her bottom, close to the warm, humid pussy that had gotten her into so much trouble.
“Daddy’s pussy is so pretty, pumpkin,” he said softly. “So pretty, and Daddy knows how tight it’s going to be for him, too, when he has big girl time with you in a little while.”
To his delight, his words made the pink little lips that peeped out between the creamy ones move. Lindsay let out a low moan.
Rick started to rub her warm, red bottom, then, with his left hand. Gently, he rubbed the right cheek, and then a little more firmly. His little girl’s moan became a sob. Gently, he rubbed the left cheek, and then he tugged it so that he could get a good look at her adorable bottom-hole.
Lindsay’s hips bucked, and her punished bottom moved up and down. Her pussy clenched again.
He took a deep breath through his nostrils, relishing the wonderful rich scent of her feminine need. The sound brought a whimper from Lindsay.
“I can smell how much you need your daddy, pumpkin, even after he whipped you.”
“Oh, Daddy,” Lindsay said in a sniffly voice, turning her head over her shoulder with pink cheeks. “That’s so embarrassing.”
“It smells a lot like my car did,” Rick teased, smiling to show that the offense she had committed against his rules had received full forgiveness in the fiery consequences delivered by his belt.
“Oh, Daddy,” she repeated. “I knew... I knew I was being naughty, but...”
“But what, Linnie?”
“But... I thought about your belt, and... well...”
Rick’s smile broadened. “Did that make it a little worse?”
“A lot worse, Daddy,” she confessed. She bit her lip, and her brow furrowed deeply. Under his still rubbing hand, her bottom squirmed.
Rick pressed his forefinger in between her warm, pert cheeks. He laid it on her tiny bottom-hole, and pushed gently, so that Lindsay gave a submissive sob deep in her throat.
“Daddy’s going to have big girl time in here, now, pumpkin. That’s what will always happen after a belt whipping.”
“Why, Daddy?” Lindsay asked, her eyes widening.
He pressed the finger in more deeply. The little bottom bucked against his hand, and she gave a tiny cry, closing her eyes as her cheeks got pink in embarrassment at her helpless, needy reaction to the shameful, invasive touch of her daddy.
Rick moved his finger gently in and out before he answered her question—once, twice, three times, each impalement of her little bottom-hole drawing a soft moan.
Finally, he said very softly, “Because bottom-fucking means you belong to Daddy.”
Lindsay’s back arched in a wordless confirmation that made Rick’s cock leap in his jeans. He took his hands from her, then, and started to unbutton his shirt as his little girl gave a forlorn cry and opened her eyes to watch her daddy get ready to fuck her.
He unzipped his fly and pulled down his jeans and his briefs together, so that his cock sprang free, jutting straight at Lindsay. Her brow furrowed, and she bit her lip.
“It’s time to get Daddy ready to fuck your bottom, pumpkin. Open your mouth nice and wide for Daddy’s penis.”
He saw a wonderfully ambiguous look dart across her face as he suited action to word and stepped forward toward the head of the bed, reaching his right hand down to cradle the back of Lindsay’s head. All the wrongness of a little girl sucking Daddy’s cock, of Daddy giving in to his masculine needs and making his little girl serve him so shamefully, of his little girl needing it despite that shame and because of that shame, seemed to travel across his pumpkin’s face.
Lindsay moved over, at his gentle urging, so that her face rested just at the edge of the mattress. Her eyes fixed on the long, hard cock that Rick brought closer and closer to her lips for a moment, and then she turned their blue gaze up to his face, looming above her.
“Are you going to fuck my face, Daddy?” she breathed.
“Yes, pumpkin,” Rick responded, pumping his hardness in his left hand because Lindsay’s face had so much naughtiness in it that he couldn’t help showing her how hard she made him. “Open nice and wide, now, and close your eyes. Daddy will hold your head in place and use your mouth to make himself feel good. You were a very naughty girl, so Daddy is going to do what he wants tonight in your mouth and in your bottom.”
He had never contemplated saying anything so wicked, or so hot, before. Something about Lindsay’s crime, about her confession, about her punishment, seemed to have brought their ageplay to a new level.
Her eyes went wide, and he thought he saw her try to reject the shameful logic, that her daddy, who loved her, would declare that she had forfeited her rights over her own body for the night for breaking his rules. A spanking—a belt whipping, even—was one thing, that momentary look seemed to say. Daddy exercising his paternal right to use his little girl’s body as a receptacle of his mature masculine pleasures, his dirtiest desires, was another.
That doubt, however, gave way to a furrow-browed expression of such aching arousal, though, that Rick knew the degrading step forward worked for both of them. Lindsay would henceforth be his little girl cum slut, as strange and humiliating as it might sound. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. With his left hand in her golden hair and his right on her creamy neck, Rick sheathed his cock in his pumpkin’s velvety soft mouth and began to use her for his enjoyment.
He thrust gently and shallowly, because he cherished the dreamy look on Lindsay’s face as he moved inside her lips and over her tongue. She had closed her eyes and wrinkled her nose, and she made tiny whimpering noises with each movement of the cock, suckling gently as if she wanted to make sure she got her daddy’s hardness very wet—slippery enough to slide into her tight young anus.
It felt so good, though, that Rick soon couldn’t resist the impulse to demand more of his little Linnie, and to continue the less
ons he had begun the night he had spanked her for the first time. He held her firmly by her head and neck, and thrust in deeper, but slowly and steadily so that he wouldn’t take his little girl by surprise with the forceful intrusion of her daddy’s rigid penis. Still, Rick didn’t mean to let Lindsay refuse this important responsibility of a little girl when Daddy decided to have big girl time with her: he pushed his cock over her tongue and nearly to the back of her throat, though Lindsay gave a little cry of alarm around the long shaft he made her taste so fully.
“That’s it, pumpkin,” he said gently and encouragingly. “You’re learning. Such a good girl. Just breathe and take the cock now.”
He moved his hips back and forth, gazing down at the naughty sight of a penis deep in a young woman’s pretty mouth and reveling for a few seconds in the lewd ecstasy of that shameful delight. Lindsay’s breath came in little puffs through her nostrils, the crease in her forehead grew deeper, and then Rick pulled his hardness from her mouth entirely, and stroked her cheek with the backs of the knuckles of his right hand while he pumped his slick cock in his left.
Lindsay’s eyes opened, and she bit her lip as she looked up at him, a shy smile on her face.
“Did that feel good, Daddy?” she asked in a dreamy voice.
“So good, pumpkin,” Rick answered, smiling back. He lifted his cock, still working it pleasurably and enjoying the way the sight of her daddy’s self-pleasure seemed to arouse Lindsay even more. He thrust his hips, too, a bit, toward her, deciding he wanted to teach her another very naughty thing. “Kiss Daddy’s balls now. A girl as naughty as you were today needs to learn to lick a man’s scrotum.”
Chapter Nine
Lindsay let out a little whine at her daddy’s new command. A logical sliver still remained of her usually fairly rational mind, and that sliver told her that what Rick had just said made no sense. If a daddy wanted his little girl to behave less naughtily, shouldn’t he tell her that she wasn’t allowed to lick his balls?