by Daisy March
She didn’t scream. Beth had no idea how she kept quiet. The sound echoed around the entire room, the spank leaving a red mark on the Little’s ass. “One,” Sarah said loudly a moment later.
Another smack, this time on the other buttock. “Two,” she said, her voice wobbly.
The masked man smacked her a third time in the same spot.
“Three.”
Beth realized she’d been holding her breath the entire time. Her lungs hurt. She exhaled quickly, wincing as a fourth spank landed on Sarah’s reddened behind.
“Five,” Sarah said. Another smack. “Six.”
It went on until twelve spanks had been administered. “Thank you, Daddy,” she said in a weak voice when he was done, the defiance gone from it as the straps binding her wrists were untied.
She didn’t stand up though. What now? Beth thought as Montague brought over a small wooden box. The masked man lifted the lid, bringing out a shining metal buttplug.
It gleamed in the light as he pressed it to Sarah’s tight hole, sliding it straight in without so much as a pause.
“Thank you, Daddy,” she said a final time as he stood her up and turned her around, taking her hand as they walked off the stage together.
“Next up,” Montague said, “Roxanne.”
There were half a dozen Littles called onto the stage. The routine was the same with all of them. Each was bound in place, spanked, and then a plug inserted into their asses.
The entire time it went on, Beth held tightly onto Slater’s hand, wondering why she couldn’t bring herself to look away.
It had been one thing to talk about this back at Slater’s place but to actually see it all happening with her own eyes was something she could barely comprehend. It was an entire world she hadn’t known existed.
As the last girl left the stage, she glanced up at Slater, wondering what he was thinking. He was watching the stage with a frown on his face, his brow furrowed, making his eyes all but invisible behind his mask.
“What was in that pill?” she asked.
He leaned down to her ear. “It was a mint,” he whispered. “But you need to act like it was Cake.”
“Why?”
“Just don’t defy me. Don’t refuse to do anything, no matter what happens next.”
“What aren’t you telling me? What’s going to happen?”
A voice called her name. “Beth!”
She looked up. The entire room was looking her way. Why? She looked at the stage. Montague was pointing at her. “Oh no,” she said, shaking her head. “Not me.”
Montague nodded. “Up here now.”
“Don’t act defiant,” Slater growled as he slipped his hand from hers. “He’ll know you didn’t take the Cake.”
She took a deep breath. She could do this. It wasn’t hard to work out what had happened. Someone had given Slater a piece of Cake to give to her.
She guessed it made people more suggestible. Slater, to his credit, had palmed it. He’d replaced it with a mint but the people in the club would be watching.
She needed to act obedient or she’d ruin everything. Slater wouldn’t get to destroy the Cake making facility, she wouldn’t be protected from those detectives chasing her. She could do this. It was only a spanking, right?
She walked toward the stage slowly, her heart pounding, wondering if her nerves were showing. What confused her more than anything was the flicker of excitement she felt knowing the eyes of everyone in the place were on her.
She’d spent all of her life trying to hide away, hoping no one would notice her. This felt almost like a way of sticking the bird up at her father.
She could stand out. She could be her own person. She could have men wanting her. None of them could have her. Only her Daddy could.
He’d given her permission to feel desire. He’d told her it was okay to want what she wanted and what she wanted was for her Daddy to spank her.
He would do it on stage, in front of everyone. The thought was making her wet even as her hands trembled with nerves. Was this allowed? Could she want pain?
Was that what she wanted though? Or was it just that she wanted to please her Daddy? To obey him? To make him happy?
She walked up the steps to the stage, knowing that when she came back down again, everything would be different. She wouldn’t be the same person.
She had no idea who she’d be when she walked back off the stage but there was only one way to find out.
“Beth,” Montague said when she stopped beside him, facing the watching crowd. “On your first night here you have made another Little cry with your behavior. Do you have anything to say in your defense?”
She shook her head, not wanting to talk, not knowing how her voice was supposed to sound when on Cake.
“Beth’s Daddy, where are you?”
Slater’s hand went up. He stood out among the other Daddies, taller and broader at the shoulders than any of them.
He was bigger than the guards walking the floor. People turned to look at him as he marched up onto the stage, towering over Montague and Beth.
“The stage is yours,” Montague said, walking off to the curtain at the wing and vanishing behind it a second later.
Beth didn’t wait to be told. She walked over to the table, bending over it, feeling the eyes of everyone on her ass, the skirt riding up over her hips.
Slater looked her in the eyes as he tied her wrists in place. The bonds were soft, not rough. That was unexpected. As was the look in Slater’s eyes. It wasn’t anger. It was nothing like that. It was love. Was she misreading that?
She was his captive. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything until he let her.
He walked behind her. She resisted looking back as she felt her panties being ripped in half. Her ass was out. They were all looking at it. Looking at her. Oh, God, how had she agreed to do this? Why was she even here?
She felt the smack before she even heard the movement of Slater’s hand.
A lightning fast sting of pain shot through her, spreading from the spot where his hand had landed deep inside her, reaching all the way up into her mind, taking over all of her senses.
From that point on, there was nothing and no in the world except her and Slater. “One,” she said in a trembling voice, trying not to cry in pain.
He spanked her again, harder this time. “Two,” she managed to say, her breath catching in her throat along with the word.
By the fifth blow her voice was failing her. She tugged at her wrists, trying to free herself, thinking of saying the safe word.
She came close but if she said it, he’d lose his chance to shut down the cake production and she’d lose him. She couldn’t do that.
His hand kept landing on her ass, the heat and sting surrounding her like an aura, wrapping her up inside it. Within that sensation was another one, a darker one that was hard to admit even to herself. She was enjoying this.
She was enjoying the attention of her Daddy. She was enjoying the attention of the crowd. She knew that was wrong. To want pain was wrong.
To want them all looking at her ass was wrong but still, she knew the truth. If he felt between her legs, he’d find her wet there.
“Ten,” she said as yet another blow landed.
“Eleven.”
He paused before the last one just long enough for her to breath in sharply and then the final blow fell. “Twelve,” she whispered, her chest collapsing against the table, her legs long having lost their strength.
She felt rather than saw him untying the bonds holding her wrists in place.
She didn’t notice Montague returning with the box but she knew he must have done because all of a sudden there was a cold sensation on her ass.
The plug was lubed which helped, as did having practiced already at Slater’s house. Even so, she couldn’t help yelping when the plug slid into her, burying itself in her ass.
She stood up, her clit throbbing with desire as her Daddy took her hand, leading her f
rom the stage, gravity pulling the plug downward, making it impossible to ignore its presence inside her.
“For a first timer,” Montague behind them. “I think she handled that very well.”
They turned to find him standing with a smile on his face. “Take your Little home,” he said to Slater. “She has had a tough first night.”
He put a hand on Beth’s shoulder. “You are quite the exceptional Little,” he added. “Punishment on your first night and here you are acting like it was nothing at all. Go home with your Daddy and get some rest but promise me something.”
She said nothing, hoping she looked like she’d taken the Cake.
“Remember my plug when you come back tomorrow night.”
10
Slater
A cab was waiting for them in the parking lot. Slater waited until they were safely away from the club before talking. Even then he wasn’t sure he could trust the driver. For all he knew, the man had been hired by Montague and was taking in everything he said.
He kept it brief. “We will get home and you will go to bed,” he said to Beth.
“Yes, Daddy,” she replied, seeming to take the hint.
He glanced at her as they drove past the streetlights, her face alternating between yellow glow and dark shade. She had done well, far better than he had expected.
He could have insisted they remain after Montague told him to take her home but that might have made the man suspicious. It was important to keep him onside, at least until he found out where the bakery was.
Once he knew where the Cake was being manufactured, it didn’t matter what anyone thought of him.
It was strange to think there might have been Backwoods Boys in there, as hidden behind the masks as he’d been.
In a club with his bitterest rivals and not a drop of blood spilled. The only pain was up on the stage.
He managed a smile to himself. Beth hadn’t just managed the night well. She’d taken the spanking far better than he’d expected.
She acted exactly as if she’d taken the Cake he’d been given, the pill which was still in his pocket, replaced by the mints he always carried, the only thing that would take away the grime that coated his throat when he was hungover.
He’d tried everything in the past until someone, he couldn’t even remember who, had mentioned peppermint. He’d thought it was a prank until he tried it when to his surprise the little things worked.
They might not work for everyone but they did for him and that meant he always had a little metal tin of them in his pocket. He’d even brought them to the club, no idea why, just habit he guessed.
“Drop us off here,” he said to the driver when they were quarter of a mile from the bar. He went to pay but the driver waved his money away.
“All taken care of.”
Then they were alone in the street. It wasn’t even midnight. People were still wandering past, most of them drunk. Slater gathered Beth close, guiding her the short distance to the bar’s parking lot.
When they got there, he took her straight through to the office, putting a blanket around her shoulders as she shivered in the chair opposite the desk.
“About what happened back there,” he said, taking the seat on the far side of the desk. “I wanted to say I’m proud of you.”
She beamed back at him. “Really?”
“You don’t think you did well?”
“I thought you were going to tell me I’d ruined things for you.”
“Why would I say that?”
“Because I got us thrown out before you’d finished your search.”
He shook his head. “We’re going back tomorrow. I’ll find it then, don’t worry.”
“You’re not mad at me?”
“Not at all. I thought you did well. You handled the spanking better than I thought you would. How did it feel?”
She looked down at the floor, her hands curling together in her lap. “I don’t know.”
“The truth, remember. Tell Daddy the truth.”
Her voice was faint but he could make out the words when she spoke. “I kind of liked it.”
He stood up, crossing around the desk and taking her hands in his, kissing the back of them. “That’s allowed, Beth. You are allowed to like things like that.”
“But it’s weird, isn’t it? Wanting to be hurt?”
“It’s not about the pain. It’s about accepting the boundaries I put in place, knowing what happens when you cross them, knowing the safe word is there if you need it.”
“I guess.”
“Now I can get that plug out of you and then I should get you home to bed. It’s been quite the long day.”
“Do you have to?” she asked, looking up with a flicker of a smile on her lips. “I’d like to stay up a little longer.”
“We’ll see,” he said, taking off his mask and setting it down on the desk. “I’ll get changed and then we’ll go. Wait there.”
He headed out of the office and into the bathroom, changing back into his normal clothes. When he returned Beth was standing up ready for him.
“Let’s go,” he said, putting his leather jacket around her shoulders. “Soon get you home and warmed up.”
They headed outside together. Riding through the streets, he was surprised by how quickly he’d gotten used to having her arms around him on the motorcycle. It felt right. So much about her felt right.
He thought back to how he’d felt on stage. The sight of her ass in those bright lights, the way her pussy glistened whenever she shifted her legs in response to the spanking.
His cock had throbbed with need, wanting more than anything to be inside her. Putting the plug in her ass had been a poor substitute for his cock but it wasn’t like he could have fucked her on stage.
He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about fucking her at all. He was supposed to be thinking about dealing with that damned drug, not her.
When they got to his place, he switched off the engine, lifting her into his arms, her legs frozen from the cold. He carried her inside, getting the fire going, sitting her close to it while he prepared them both a drink.
She was wincing when he came back to her. “You all right?” he asked.
“It just hurts,” she said. “You know, the spanking.”
“I have something that will help,” he said, passing her a drink of warm milk. “Get that down you and I’ll dig it out.”
When he came back she’d finished her drink. He drained his glass of bourbon in one gulp, glad of the raw liquor and the warming sensation that filled him.
“Come through,” he said, taking her hand and leading her into the bedroom. “Lay on your front on the bed,” he said, unscrewing the lid from the jar he’d found in the bathroom.
She lay down, head on the pillow, looking like she belonged there on his bed. Again he thought about being her full-time Daddy. An impossible dream but a pleasant one nonetheless.
He scooped cream out from the jar onto his hand, sitting on the bed beside her, reaching his other hand out, pulling her skirt up her hips to expose that still red ass of hers.
“You feel cold,” he said as he began to massage the cream into her skin.
“You try riding that thing in a skirt this length in the middle of a winter night,” she replied, her voice muffled by the pillow under her.
“Not sure I’d look good in a skirt,” he replied, running a line of cream down over the plug, nudging it slightly with his finger.
She let out a slight moan. It was only quiet but he caught it. He nudged the plug again. She sighed happily, her legs stiffening, her ass cheeks gripping around the plug.
“All better,” he said a minute later, screwing the lid back onto the jar. He was reluctant to stop massaging her but any longer and he’d have to bury his face between her legs, hear those moans turn into screams.
He didn’t want to scare her, not when he needed her to get back into the club the next night.
“Ready for bed?” he asked as she sat
up, tugging her skirt down.
“Not yet,” she said. “I feel wide awake.”
“I know what’ll help.” He took her hand, lifting her onto her feet. “You need some pajamas.”
He began undoing her blouse, loving the sight of her tits coming into view, the nipples rock hard, enticing his eye.
He did his best to resist them but couldn’t quite, his hands sliding briefly over the hardened points as he slid the blouse from her. She gasped at the touch but said nothing.
He removed her skirt next, taking it down to the floor with her socks, sliding her shoes off at the same time so she was left standing naked in place.
She looked nervously at him as he reached into his drawers, pulling out a pair of silky pajama shorts. He rummaged until he found the top.
“Old girlfriend left them,” he said as she frowned at the cute bunnies dotted about the fabric.
“Sure they’re not yours?” she asked with a smile as he buttoned the top up over her boobs.
“No sass or you’ll go straight to bed with no story,” he said, lightly swatting her ass.
She yelped but with a giggle, lifting her feet one after the other so he could slide the shorts into place. “Into bed,” he said, pulling back the blankets.
“But I said I’m not tired.”
“And you’re not going to sleep yet.”
Once she was in bed, he made a decision. He didn’t take long to make it. That wasn’t his style. As far as he could see it, he could leave her to sleep and he’d settle on the couch. Or he could do what he did. Begin to undress.
“Are you joining me?” she asked as he pulled his top off. “Daddy?” she added a second later.
“Still in character,” he replied, shoving his pants off, leaving only his boxer shorts on. “Good girl.”
“What if it’s not a character?” she asked as he climbed in beside her.
“What’re you saying, Beth?”
“What if this is who I really am?”
“A Little, you mean?”
“Yes, no, I mean, I’m not sure. I like calling you Daddy. Is that weird?”
He put a finger on her chin, turning her so she was looking at him. “I told you. You are allowed to want what you want. You are allowed to have desires. If you want to be a Little, you be one.”