by Lena Little
“Some freak show and his—“
“That’s enough.”
My hand shoots inside his front door and grabs a packet of peanut M&M’s and I stuff the whole bag in his mouth so far down that he tumbles backward.
“It’s her first Halloween asshole, because her father was out there protecting this country for people like you and didn’t have time to take her trick-or-treating. Now he’s passed so you either leave those M&M’s in your mouth where they belong…stopping you from saying stupid things for at least the rest of the night, or you take them out and you apologize to her. Your choice.”
He pulls the bag from his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he says, a green stain on his front tooth from the force of one of the M&M’s I stuffed inside his soup cooler like a Thanksgiving turkey.
I take Hannah’s hand and lead her out onto the sidewalk and down the block. Her other hand comes to her face and she just shakes her head. “This isn’t a good idea. I knew it wasn’t,” she says.
“Listen, little one,” I say, kneeling down so I’m at her level. “No self-deprecation, that’s the first rule.”
“First rule?”
“That’s right. Self-talk is one of the most important things in life, and from now on you only talk about yourself in a positive way.”
“Not exactly the easiest thing to do when your mother dies giving birth to you and your dad basically stops caring for himself in every way possible from that moment forward.”
“That’s not your fault. Your dad wasn’t blaming you, he just couldn’t deal with the loss. He was the same way when his mother died.”
“How do you know about his mother? As a matter of fact, how do you even know about my dad?”
“Your dad’s mother, your grandmother, basically adopted me the first time I came over to your dad’s house. Like you, my mother died during childbirth, or shortly thereafter. The coroner wasn’t exactly sure based on the amount of crack they found in her system, they found me lying next to a dumpster, which shielded me from the wind and the rain that night,” I reveal, letting her in on some of my past.
“You’re joking me?” she says, her mouth open wide. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“No one did until I just told you. I never even told your dad because I never wanted anyone to feel sorry for me, as no one should.” I pause. “Listen Hannah. You haven’t had the easiest life, I can put the puzzle pieces together and figure that out. But you’re not doing yourself any favors by making it more challenging. Moving forward I’m not going to allow that. I’m going to instill rules and demand your obedience to those rules so your mind will transition away from the victim mindset into one of strength. I need a strong woman by my side and I know you have it in you. I know you’re that woman. It’s just going to take some time, but we’ll get through it, princess.”
“Henry, you’ve got this situation wrong. There are no rules and nothing long term. You have your life and I’m…well, I’m figuring mine out as I go. That’s not your concern, but what is important to you, and me, is that I show you respect. I can’t just barge into your life, even though I kind of already did. But I promise you that’s not what this is about. I just need somewhere to stay until I can get on my feet again, and the bigger city here will offer me more opportunities than the podunk town where I was living. I just need a couple weeks and I’ll be out of your hair.”
I just shake my head through the whole thing.
“You don’t get it, angel. I’m not giving up on you and this isn’t a short term thing. You’re afraid to fully trust in someone because when you have it hasn’t worked out for you. I get it, because I felt the same way. We think it’s better to hold back, to keep ourselves too busy so we don’t have to feel. We think we’re a burden to those around us because that’s what we’ve been shown since the moment we came into this world, when really all we needed was a good role-model to show us the way and keep our feet to the fire when we get off the path.” I pause. “I know it’s hard to imagine the future when you’re stuck in the past, but that’s what needs to happen…you have to let go of the past and embrace these rules, this experience that I can provide. Listen, I’m not saying I’m perfect. Good judgment comes from experience and experience comes from bad judgment. I’ve made every mistake in the book, and I’m here to make sure those lessons aren’t lost, to make sure you don’t make the same ones.”
She nods.
“This is for your own good, ok?”
Another nod.
“I need you to answer me with words, not just gestures.”
“Ok…” she says, but pauses, as if something’s stuck on her tongue.
“Ok what? We need to address each other with respect, and how the other person…wants to be addressed.” I swallow hard, still not sure what I’m asking for but knowing that it’s something. Something is missing and I just can’t quite put my finger on it until…
“Ok…Daddy.”
Every muscle in my body tightens and my dick jerks violently in my pants. I’m so hard I have to stand up straight as the hand-sewn fabric in my trousers audibly starts to give way there. And the fabric is not sewn hastily. I’ve never been so hard in my entire life, and I’ve never come close to ripping a pair of trousers before. Definitely not the more common area for breakage, and absolutely not the zipper area, which is still straining now despite my back being straight and standing at my full six foot five inch height.
“Did I say something wrong?” she asks.
“No…you said exactly the right thing.” I try and get my bearings but my head is spinning. “Instead of trick-or-treating I have another idea, one where we won’t have to confront people who don’t get it the rest of the night.”
“What idea is that, Daddy?” she says, addressing me in a way I suddenly need to be addressed.
It’s like a hibernating bear has woken inside me and that bear is never so much as taking a nap, let alone stuffing itself in a cave for a winter, ever again.
“Don’t you worry, little one. Daddy’s here to take care of you. You don’t have to worry about a thing…ever again.”
6
Hannah
We walk for a good ten minutes until we reach a house that looks entirely run-down, standing out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood…until I hear screams, pounding, and the sound of chainsaws and see a line of people wrapped around the base of it.
“Is this a haunted house?”
Henry nods, and I clap my hands together furiously.
Normally something like this would scare me, but having this older man by my side makes me not only feel safe, but makes me want to go inside. The fact that he’s older is like some sort of Halloween voodoo, casting a spell over me.
Still, he’s not too old by any stretch of the imagination. Too old is when a man has no vitality and is a dark cloud to the young woman he meets. Not Henry. In a strange way I feel like my smile lights him up, and he does nothing to dim or hide the brightness I feel like I’m providing.
Before I’d felt like a wet blanket, a cloud on a sunny day. He makes me feel like a sunny day and he’s like the mid-winter tourist in Cancun, lying out on the beach without sunscreen on the first day, absorbing every possible UV ray humanly possible…in a good way.
We enter the line and as we get closer to the area to pay there’s a blue light which washes over the crowd and it’s only then I notice some silver hair decorating his temples, making him look even more refined, distinguished, and sexier to me.
“Twenty for you and ten for your daughter,” the man at the cash register says.
I go to open my mouth to correct him, but Henry pulls me in tight for a side hug and points at the sign that reads ‘half off for family members.’
We both laugh and after we pay we step forward, next to enter.
“Daughter, wife, it doesn’t really matter what he called us. I’m not going to get in a needless argument right now. I’m having too much fun and the point of the sign was correct. We’re
family.”
“Because you were so close with my dad?”
“That and because of the future that’s in store for us.”
“You have no future!” a voice cries out and I look in time to see strobe lights flashing right in our faces and a man in a Freddy Krueger outfit rushing our way with the knife blades on his hand slicing through the air.
“Aaaah!” I scream, and I feel Henry’s thick fingers pull me in tight and he turns his body, putting himself between me and the ‘attacker.’
It’s one of those crazy tricks of human psychology. Even though you know it’s a haunted house and you know people are here to scare you, heck you’re paying them to do so, it’s still scary…even though you’re expecting it.
Freddy Krueger tries to lean around Henry’s body to get his knife blade hand closer to me, but Henry’s too broad, his shoulders too thick.
I’m safe. Protected, in all ways and it feels foreign, and…amazing.
I never felt like I needed rescuing, and in a lot of ways I don’t think I do. It’s just something about knowing that there’s someone in life who has your back, a safety net so to speak, not to mention someone you trust, are insanely attracted to, and after this person opens up to you so honestly, and so quickly, you realize you have so much in common too.
We continue through the haunted house and I nuzzle into Henry’s chest every time the frightful characters and creatures manage to startle and frighten me. It’s more fun that I’ve had in longer than I can remember, despite my stomach feeling like I’m in the midst of an upside down tilt-a-whirl.
“There should be a ghost up here on the left,” I say as we approach a dark curve in the haunted house.
Henry says nothing, and I just look up at him and see him smirking, as if he knows something I don’t.
“What?” I ask.
Suddenly a body comes down from the ceiling, hanging upside down right in front of me. I scream bloody murder and then chastise myself. “I should have known!” I repeat endlessly. “Why didn’t I think of that? They misdirect you and that’s how they get you.”
“Remember what I said about self talk, my Little Treat,” Henry says. “Feeling tricked is part of the Halloween experience, heck it’s all about trick or treat, right? But don’t dwell on it. It’s not personal. It’s just fun.”
“It’s just that I should have known. I can’t believe I fell for it. I’m so dumb.”
Henry’s eyes narrow. “I asked you to stop and you didn’t, young lady. You’ve just earned your first punishment, and there will be more…until you can follow orders.”
I swallow hard. “Punishment?”
Henry cocks his head to the side and then raises an eyebrow, saying nothing before he taps the back of the fingers of one of his hands into the palm of the other.
Is he planning on…spanking me?
I was never disciplined as a child and don’t know how I feel about it, especially as an adult. At least I don’t know how I feel about it until I imagine those thick fingers of his that pulled me in tight earlier coming down hard on my backside, hopefully staying in place and kneading my globes.
The more I think about it the more I think I might just have to break the next rule he deems fit to issue.
The rest of the haunted house I don’t even get scared. My mind is fixated on his words, and if he’s actually going to follow through on them. Something tells me he’s not a guy who just says something to hear the sound of his own voice.
Before long we step through a door, which I’m expecting to be a trap, but it actually leads us outside and I exhale a breath I didn’t know I was holding, knowing I’m now safe.
Or am I.
We walk through some trees that are decorated with fake cobwebs and I have to admit it’s really cool. I’ve never really celebrated a holiday like this before. Christmas usually consisted of my dad watching whatever basketball and football games were on TV as did Thanksgiving. Halloween wasn’t really even a holiday in my house, and my dad would keep the light out in fear that some of the neighbor kids might actually come over and see him drinking his Jim Beam straight from the bottle.
This is what a family holiday feels like, and I’ve only ‘known’ Henry for a few hours. I pinch myself and yep, I can feel it. This is real. But apparently Henry has other ideas regarding how to make me feel.
“Pick one?” he says, his eyes wandering around at all the tree branches.
“Excuse me?”
“A branch. Pick one?”
“Based on what? They’re all beautiful.”
“Based on which one you want coming down on that sweet ass of yours, Little Treat.”
“What did you say?”
“I. Said. Pick. Your. Poison.”
My eyes narrow on him. I want him to hold his ground, but I need to test him to see if he will. I want him to ‘win’ this stare-down, so to speak. And he doesn’t disappoint…
“Either you pick or I will, and trust me…you won’t like the switch Daddy chooses.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I say, looking for something thin.
I break off a small branch and hand it to him, only to realize the thinness of it is actually going to sting more than a thicker branch.
My eyes lock onto his hands as he pulls back the supporting, even thinner, branches coming off the one I chose until he has a perfect spanking switch.
But perfect according to whom?
He takes my hand and drags me behind a few trees, out of sight of everyone. His eyes move to a tree just off to his right, and he nods at it.
“Assume the position.”
7
Henry
I’m hard as a steel pipe as Hannah flashes me an ‘are you kidding’ look. No, I’m not kidding. Not one fucking bit.
“Now…I’m going to count to three, and when I get to three you better have your hands plastered against that tree and your ass pressed out so I have a clear target.”
“I beg your pardon?” she fake protests, her hands on her hips and her head swirling around in a circle like an owl.
“I told you to quit the negative self-talk. You didn’t.”
“It’s a free country and I can do whatever I want, say whatever I want.” Damn, she’s really pushing my buttons now.
“Free? You belong to me, little girl. See, the thing is if I were a boy, and not a man, I’d allow the negative self-talk and manipulate you like a weak man would, but I’m not a boy nor a weak man. I’m a real man, and one who wants an equally real, and strong, woman by his side. I want you empowered, filled to the brim with self-belief and self-confidence just as you should be. You’re young, beautiful, talented, and have the world in front of you. You need to cut the negative shit out right now, get that garbage out of your head. And I’m going to help you with that right now, by stepping in where no one else but me can. See, naughty little girls who disobey face consequences. Isn’t that right?”
I lean forward and she nods. “I can’t hear you,” I whisper into her ear and I can see goosebumps immediately cover her neck.
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes…Daddy?”
“Say it like you mean it, if you mean it. And if you don’t then we’ve got even more work to do.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she calls out with conviction.
“Good girl,” I say, pulling my face away from hers. “Now. Where were we?” I pause and clear my throat. “Three…two…”
Without wasting another second her hands find the bark of the tree at chest level and she pushes her ass out for me. For. Me.
“Daddy will teach you to mind now…teach you by spanking you.”
I take the switch and get into position, ready to bring it across her ass, staring down at those perfect curves knowing if I spank her with this switch I’m going to be jealous of a piece of dead wood for the rest of the night. That’s not happening.
I toss the switch to the side, grab my collar and straighten it, before raising my hand above
my head.
Every rational thought leaves me as I focus on what I’m about to do…something I’ve never done before yet in this moment feels like something I’ve always wanted to do, meant to do, but only because of her.
My hand speeds through the crisp autumn air and cracks hard against her clothed bottom and immediately I need to know how her bare flesh feels against my hand.
Her body lurches forward but her feet dig in and she pushes her bottom back into my grip as I squeeze one bear cheek hard, possessively, letting her know who she belongs to.
“Tell me you want me to spank you again, Little Treat. Tell me you want my big, thick hand on that tiny ass, my grip dwarfing your body as I fill your skin with pleasure and pain all at the same time until you melt into my grip and your body is marked with my handprint for the next few days.”
She whimpers.
“Say it. Tell your Daddy what you want.”
“Spank me, Daddy. Teach me to obey.”
And that’s exactly what the fuck I do, lifting my hand and bringing it down on her other globe this time, and this time she’s ready. Her feet are bound to the ground and every muscle in her body is braced as my hand makes contact with her flesh. Her head darts from forward to back, spinning around and allowing her to see the animalistic need that’s taken over my expression and turned my look into something much more feral, dangerous, and savage.
She bites her lower lip but doesn’t say anything, nor does she need to.
I spank her again, her eyes staying locked on mine the whole time and my cock throbbing so hard I could shoot a geyser full of seed straight through the tightly wound Italian wool fibers of my slacks, painting the ground with my unborn child.
But I refuse. I’m saving this first climax for her womb. I’m going to paint her insides like a Jackson Pollock, but this time the masterpiece won’t sell for millions in some fancy art studio. It will be priceless…because just like fate brought us together, I know she’s destined to be bred by me the night I claim her for the first time.