“Yes, Daddy. Can I go now?” she asked quietly. “I don’t feel like eating anymore.”
“Drink your milk,” he replied, taking her plate to the sink.
As soon as she finished, he removed the belt and helped her down.
“I won’t be too long, baby.”
Lord, he didn’t even want to do this, he realized as he watched her walk away with her head down. It had been a long, trying day for both of them, but his commitment to her as her daddy demanded he do something to correct her. But what?
Cleaning up the kitchen, he thought about it. He could give her a fairly gentle spanking, but what purpose would that serve? She would likely get excited, he already longed to sink into her warm body and she’d probably figure she’d gotten one over on him and remember how she’d done it. He had no illusions that she wouldn’t try to manipulate him in the future. No, this had to be a real punishment, ensuring she never embarrassed him at Dr. Franklin’s office again.
He thought about some of the things stored in his medical cabinet. What could he use that wouldn’t be overly harsh, yet would make an impression on her? Immediately he mentally eliminated any bottom punishment. She’d been through enough of that today and he was looking forward to tomorrow night. There was no sense in doing anything to aggravate that tender area of her body.
He fully intended to deny her any pleasure, but that wasn’t really enough. Finally, he decided on a cream. It would generate a lot of heat, and after coating her bottom, he would use one of the slappers he’d bought. They made a lot of noise with very little damage to the miscreant. She would not know this of course, once the cream had been applied. To her it would seem like a very serious punishment indeed, to him it was mild. Once she was crying pitifully, he would offer her his cock to nurse, soothing her with his voice and telling her what a good girl she was.
Hell, he almost bounded up the stairs after shutting off the kitchen light.
Chéri stumbled out of bed, walked to the bathroom and sat gingerly on the toilet. She fully expected to burst into tears as soon as her bottom hit the seat. Last night, her daddy had been exceedingly harsh with her after coming up stairs to find her with her nose in the corner and her ruffled pink panties below her cringing butt.
“Come to me,” he insisted, taking a seat on their bed. On the nightstand was a jar of something she’d never seen him use before, but she’d gone obediently over his lap just the same. There was no sense in trying to get out of it. One of the things she liked best about having him as her daddy was the knowledge he always followed through. There was something very reassuring and sexy about a man who could not and would not be teased or coyly manipulated from something he considered his duty and right. She didn’t even try.
Beside him on the bed was a long flexible wand with a square of leather on the end. It looked relatively harmless, unless he used the wand. The leather piece was much smaller than his hand.
He spanked her quite firmly with his hand as he lectured her about the proper etiquette required for a doctor’s visit. Then he picked up the jar and began applying a generous portion of gel to her stingy cheeks.
At first it felt cool and soothing, but within minutes it began to heat up until her poor buns were burning hotly. Daddy held her easily as he massaged the cream into her skin while she squirmed and wiggled to get away, crying the entire time. Her pleas were a waste of time and effort, for he ignored them completely and told her quite clearly she was getting exactly what she deserved. When she was convinced he was going to kill her, he stood her up and bent her over the side of the bed, picking up the implement.
Chéri sobbed all the harder. She hated being punished like this. For some reason when she was over his lap, spankings were much easier to bear. Pressed into the mattress, his large hand holding her in place seemed cold and impersonal, almost cruel to her. Anyone could be wielding the frightening tool. She could not see his face, his eyes or feel a connection to him. It was only her flesh and the leather as slap after slap fell on her vulnerable bottom.
The noise seemed deafening, melding with her screams and squeals. Her promises to never be naughty again fell on deaf ears. Chéri tried to look at the clock on the bedside stand to see whether he’d been spanking her for the hours it felt like, or mere minutes, but her eyes were too full of tears for her to see.
Finally, he pulled her up and sat, placing her on her knees between his legs.
“Unzip Daddy’s pants and take his cock out,” he instructed. “Since you saw fit to spit your pacifier out this afternoon, perhaps this will be more to your liking.”
Chéri’s fingers fumbled but managed to free him. Brushing away her tears, she immediately looked at him with accusing eyes as she noted how hard he was, the shiny pre-come already leaking from the tip.
“I thought you said it didn’t turn you on to cause me pain?” she said, between gasping, hiccupping breaths.
“I said it only turns me on when I know it excites you; when I know despite your cries and pleas for mercy, your body responds to my dominance. Shall I prove the truth of my words to you?” he asked darkly. “Shall I thrust my hand between your legs and show you that you are wet and ready?”
“No,” she whispered, her head down in embarrassment.
“Then I won’t,” he replied in a gentler tone, stroking her hair. “We both know the truth of the matter. Now, suck Daddy’s cock like a good girl. I’ve been hard for hours and looking forward to it ever since toying with your amazing nipples and watching your sweet lips milking that pacifier this afternoon.
“Do a good job, babygirl and I won’t have to use this for encouragement,” he continued, giving her a swat with the loud spanking tool.
Immediately, she obeyed, taking the head of his rigid penis into her mouth and coating him with her saliva. Her tongue worked along the underside, swiftly locating the spot that made his legs shake. Working quickly, she began raising and lowering her head, sliding her mouth farther down on him as he sighed in approval. Each time she pulled back toward the tip, she sucked, occasionally moving her tongue in circles before zeroing in again on the bumpy vein beneath. She stopped and nibbled around the head, passing out tiny kisses and licks, teasing him. Now and then, she dallied on the edge before plunging her head down and taking as much of him to the back of her throat as she could before sucking hard as she moved slowly back to the tip.
Her daddy usually liked a nice, slow, teasing blow job. He frequently referred to it as her “nursing” his dick, but apparently not tonight, for he’d picked up the tool and cracked her several times on the bottom.
“Enough teasing, naughty girl,” he groaned. “I’m ready to come, and if you’re smart, you won’t lose one drop. You may consider this your bedtime snack,” he growled out, dropping the implement and sinking his hands into her hair.
Chéri knew well enough that her part was nearly over. He was going to fuck her mouth, and he did. It was always a struggle to accept him as deeply as he wanted to go, but she fought against her gag reflex and remained compliant, her tongue working frantically to hurry him along. When he spilled into her mouth she obediently swallowed every drop. There would obviously be no climax for her tonight, no reward for good behavior, for she recognized that she’d embarrassed him at Dr. Franklin’s. That did not stop the need that coated the top of her thighs, nor the tightening in her belly as she listened to his moans of pleasure. She’d long since given up trying to figure out why minding her daddy excited her. In fact, it no longer mattered.
Daddy held and soothed her for a bit before rocking her to sleep and while she prayed his hand would slip between her thighs, she accepted why it would not. Tomorrow she would be better.
Now, looking in the bathroom mirror, she was shocked to see her bottom was barely pink. How could a spanking hurt so badly, yet leave no evidence that she’d even been disciplined? Whatever was in that jar was vicious, vicious, she thought turning on the shower and stepping in.
Daddy was still sleeping. M
aybe she would make him a nice breakfast and they would have a good day. He’d promised they could work on the nursery. Chéri could hardly wait to begin painting and decorating. She’d decided against the wallpaper and instead went with a soft shade of pink paint and a border of Victorian dolls instead of the bunnies. It would look nice with her new dollhouse and be much faster. If Daddy would paint the ceiling, trim, and woodwork, it wouldn’t take long to complete the room. For some reason she was very anxious to see what was in all those boxes in the garage. She hoped there were some pretty clothes and that the mattress for her new crib was comfortable.
There were only three more weeks until she was done working and she could hardly wait to see what her imaginative and sometimes devious daddy would come up with. She was only sure of one thing, she loved him. Even if there were things she didn’t relish in his care of her, she would try her best to please him. What he’d told Dr. Franklin yesterday convinced her he truly had her best interests at heart, so she would submit and reap the benefits of her surrender and she had no doubt there would be many. While her mind might rebel, her body clearly knew who was in charge; it was her sexy, dominant daddy.
Michael wandered into the kitchen, wearing his pajama pants and running his hand through his dark hair. Seeing Chéri at the stove in nothing but a white, baby-doll nightie, he scrubbed his hand along his stubbly cheek.
“And just what do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m making you breakfast, Daddy,” she replied happily, sliding an omelet onto a plate.
“That’s very nice,” he said popping a cup into the coffee maker and hitting a button, “but once we’re firmly established in our new routine that will be a spankable offense.”
“What?”
“Babygirls do not use the stove or cook without their daddy’s permission,” he stated firmly, patting her bottom before taking a seat at the island.
“Oh, well can we be a semi-normal couple this weekend?” she asked hopefully, setting his plate before him. “We have so much to do, and I want my room finished so badly.”
“We can until this evening.”
“Why, what’s so special about tonight?”
He looked at her meaningfully and grinned. When it dawned on her, she flushed, from her cheeks to her collarbone.
“That’s very important to you, isn’t it?” she said seriously.
“You have no idea. It will make a huge difference in some of my plans.”
“Then, Daddycakes, I will try especially hard to like it as well,” she promised with a smile as she took a sip of her coffee.
Reaching out, he picked up her hand and kissed it.
“That means a lot to me, baby,” he stated with a smile. “You won’t always like it, but when you don’t, it will be intentional on my part.”
“Why?”
“There are a few reasons. Either I will be using it to teach you a lesson in obedience, and of course, when I want to seriously fuck that sweet ass.” He grinned before continuing. “There’s also the inarguable fact you enjoy it most when I’m exceedingly strict with you.”
Chéri snorted and picked up her fork.
“Doubt me if you want, my little brat, but I’m rarely wrong when it comes to creating scenarios where you have breath-stealing orgasms that turn you into the soft, cuddly and submissive babygirl I adore.”
“We’ll see,” she murmured.
“Yes, we most certainly will,” he agreed with a short, confident laugh. He laughed harder when she ignored him.
Chapter 14
They worked together companionably throughout most of the day and he only scolded her when she climbed too high on the ladder. She, on the other hand, continually chided him about getting white paint on her pink.
“Listen, you little termagant,” he said, wagging his brush at her. “Today we are temporarily on equal footing. Don’t forget tonight you will be over my lap and I will have a stout nozzle up that wise little ass the size of which has yet to be determined.”
“Yes, Sir,” Chéri gulped, handing him a rag to fix his mistake.
“That’s better. Watch your step, little girl,” he warned.
Chéri nodded and went back to rolling the wall.
“I like the window seat,” he said a while later. “What made you think of it?”
“Um, Susan has one and I adored it,” she replied as she turned away and used a small brush to touch up a spot she’d missed.
“Did you find a cushion?”
“Yes, it should be somewhere in the garage. It was delivered a couple of days ago.”
“I think I’ll ask Mark to come over and help me tomorrow. Maybe we can grill outside if it’s not too cool.”
“I’d like that. Susan can help me hang the new curtains if the walls are dry.”
“They will be. This is guaranteed to cover in one coat. I can’t wait to get in the garage and start unpacking those boxes.”
“Please don’t unpack anything in front of Mark I’d find embarrassing,” she pleaded.
“Baby, he’s going to help me put your crib together and you’ve seen Susan’s nursery. I doubt anything would surprise him,” Michael chided gently.
“Well at least don’t do it in front of me,” she snapped.
“You won’t be anywhere near the garage,” he insisted. “In fact, I want you to keep your nosey little self far away from there. I have some surprises for you and I don’t want you to see them until they take their proper place in your room.”
“Will I like them?” she asked suspiciously.
“Most of them, but there are couple you will love when you’re a very good babygirl and hate when you are not,” he teased evasively.
“You’re mean,” she sniffed, tempted to swipe him with her brush. “You know you love it when I’m a bad girl. It gives you an excuse to spank me, or worse.”
“I no longer need an excuse,” he pointed out. “As your daddy I can do anything I want to you. That might be something to give some thought to,” he suggested.
“How?” she demanded.
“No safe word, remember?” he said with an evil grin as he set his brush down and rubbed his hands together gleefully. His eyebrows moved up and down. “I’m going for a coffee. Do you want one?”
“Yes, and you’d better hurry up and get out of here you demented man, before I paint you peony pink!”
Michael laughed all the way to the kitchen.
She was tired by the time they put the painting supplies away and washed up at the sink. They had soup and sandwiches for dinner and ate in the kitchen. As soon as they’d finished, Michael cleaned up and took her hand, pulling her behind him.
“Come on, baby. I’ll give you your bath and try to get the paint out of your hair, and I think your ear,” he said.
“My ear?”
“Yes,” he replied laughing as they went upstairs. “I definitely see pink behind your earlobe. You must have had an itch to scratch. I hope you’ll have another one before the night is over.”
“Another what?” she asked, confused as he led her to the new tub.
“Another itch I can scratch,” he teased, winking at her as he leaned over and turned on the new nickel plated faucets.
Chéri gave him a shot in the arm with her small fist when he’d straightened up.
“Very funny, I’m much more likely to have a tummy ache,” she whined, giving him the stink eye.
“Don’t worry, baby. Daddy will take good care of you.”
“Humph!”
“Just get in the tub, brat,” he said with a grin as he pulled her shirt over her head. “There’s nothing you can do about it in any case, so stop fretting. I know what I’m doing.”
“Then why did you have to ask him about it?” she demanded, planting her hands on her hips after he’d pulled her pants down.
“It doesn’t hurt to have a little refresher,” he insisted, scooping her up in his arms and placing her gently in a tub filled with warm water and lavender bubbles.
“Hey, I’m going to like this,” he continued, leaning over and kissing her nose. “Less strain on the back.”
“Well, I am a little overweight, according to your new friend,” she hissed back.
“Dr. Franklin is not my friend. He’s a professional I consulted, and you should be grateful he’s not. I’ll bet he has plenty of techniques that would come in useful with a mouthy little girl like you.”
“I’m sure,” Chéri cheekily replied.
“Be quiet before you get more than you bargained for tonight,” he ordered, picking up the washcloth.
Deciding she was not helping her cause, Chéri sighed and relaxed against the curve of the tub.
“This really is nice and comfortable,” she admitted. “I love how deep it is and this looks like a cute, old-fashioned phone.”
“That’s the sprayer. It was quite a bit more expensive, but it went with the feel of your room and the tub, so I decided you were worth it.”
“Gee, thanks,” she quipped.
“You can thank me later,” he suggested, slipping his hand between her legs and slowly washing her there.
“Don’t hold your breath,” she shot back, just managing to gasp in some air before Michael placed his big hand on her head and shoved her under the water. She came up sputtering and wiping her eyes.
“Just getting your hair wet,” he informed her with a chuckle.
“That’s really nice! Do most daddies try to drown their babygirls?”
“Only the really mouthy ones,” he replied calmly.
Chéri kept quiet after that and allowed him to bathe her. He worked to get the paint spatters out of her hair. Opening the drain, he had her stand and rinsed her off, making sure he got all the shampoo out. After shutting off the water, he picked up a big towel and wrapped it around her before helping her out.
“Get into your nightgown and meet me downstairs,” he said, drying her briskly. “I’m going to shower.”
“Aren’t you going to… you know?” she asked, clutching the towel.
More Rules For Cheri (New Rules Book 2) Page 14