Disciplining Little Abby (18 page)

“Now tell me why you lied last night and said you never heard it ring.”

Shit
. Her memories of leaving the bar and the ride home were a blur, and she didn’t remember that conversation. But if he said she did, then she must have. “I was very drunk, Daddy.”

When he didn’t respond, her stomach began to knot with dread and anticipation. Clearly he was waiting for her to say more, but she was lost for answers. “I don’t remember saying it. I really don’t. Maybe… maybe I knew you would know it was a lie, and I was being mean and didn’t care.”

“Fair enough,” he answered at last. “From this point on until such time as I decide you’ve earned your freedom back, I will expect your complete obedience. Knowing this, do you want to continue our relationship?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He nodded once, then turned and walked out the door. “Get on your hands and knees and follow me,” he said without looking back.

Abby blinked in surprise. She hadn’t seen that coming, but she didn’t dare refuse. Dropping to the floor, she crawled on all fours after him. The hardwood flooring of the hall bruised her knees before she was halfway down the hall. By the time she came to a stop at his feet in the den, the minor discomfort she’d felt in the corner seemed like child’s play.

“Get on the coffee table and remain on all fours.”

The top of the table was thick glass, even harder on her knees than the floor had been, but she obeyed without complaint. Sneaking a peek from under her bangs, she watched as he went to the window and opened the blinds. Her mouth went dry as she realized anyone walking by could look in and see her naked on the coffee table. Trembling, she quickly looked down. He’d told her there were lots of people just like them out there. She wondered how many other girls had been in her exact position. Did they also wonder if there was something wrong with them for going along with it? Or did they simply give in to it, enjoy the sense of helplessness, the feeling that their Daddy was going to do anything he pleased with them and there was absolutely nothing they could do about it?

Chris returned and reached under the couch to retrieve a long, shallow wooden box. Peeking sideways, she watched as he opened it and brushed his fingers across its contents. Inside were several different whips and paddles. When his fingers paused over a leather one that had numerous leather strips attached to one end, her throat constricted.
That does not look like my friend
, she thought nervously as he pulled it from the case, rolling the handle in his palm as he considered his selection.

Another eternity passed while he carefully closed the case and slid it back under the sofa. When he moved to stand behind her, she tensed and waited.

“Move your knees farther apart.”

Squeezing her eyes shut and praying no one decided to walk their dog past the floor-to-ceiling windows, she spread her legs farther apart, stopping only when she felt his fingertips press against the outside of one thigh. It was soon followed by the casual caress of the leather strips of the whip. The way he slid them up one thigh and across her hips was almost sensual, and she found herself shivering in anticipation as she always did just before a spanking.

“You will receive ten strokes, and then I will stop,” he said. “You may cry if you need to, but you are not allowed to scream or yell. If you make any sound louder than I am speaking now, you will receive an additional five strokes. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Her words came out in a high pitched squeak. Something told her ten strokes would only be the beginning. She’d be damned if she’d add another five to what she suspected would be a very exacting punishment.

The first stroke stung, but not as much as the palm of his hand. The worst part was the sound, a subtle crack just before leather met flesh. For a moment she allowed herself to believe she’d lucked out. The next three strokes came rapid fire, barely giving her time to breath between them, and suddenly the light sting from a moment earlier morphed into a scalding trail that extended all the way up the back of her thigh and across both cheeks. Past experience had taught her that tensing up would only make it worse, but as the next three strokes landed in the exact same spot, she had to grit her teeth to keep from yelping.
Three more
.

The eighth blow sent a shockwave of pain radiating out from the raw flesh, and her resolve not to cry crumbled at last. The tears began to roll and soft whimpers escaped her as the ninth connected in the exact same spot as all the rest.
Don’t cry, don’t cry
, she kept repeating in her head. As the tenth and final stroke cracked against her bottom, she gasped in relief that she’d made it through.

Her shoulders sagged as she breathed deeply in and out, trying to drive the pain from her mind. Before she could, she felt his fingers at the small of her back. Slowly they trailed along the path the flogger had taken, and she gasped in shock at how the lightest touch relit the flames. Almost immediately his fingers took a detour, moving down towards her pussy, and as he slipped a finger between her lips, she was shocked to realize how wet she was. Gently, he caressed her between her legs, taking his time stroking and teasing her until the pain on her bottom gave way to the pleasure in her pussy.

“Tell me,” he whispered as he slipped a finger inside her, making her moan, “is this what you wanted when you disobeyed me last night?”

“No,” she gasped. “Yes. I don’t know.”

“That’s because you don’t know who you are,” he said. His fingers continued their assault on her privates. “You must learn who you are before you can know what you want.” Another finger began to slowly massage her bottom hole, and without thinking, Abby pushed back against his fingers.

Almost immediately his fingers withdrew. “Did I give you permission to move?”

“No, Daddy,” she answered miserably. Her swollen, wet pussy ached for his fingers to return.

“You are going to learn self-control, starting now.”

From behind her she heard the faint sound of a lid being unscrewed, followed by the clink of it being set down on a hard surface. To her relief his fingers returned to her inflamed flesh, entering her pussy, encircling her clit, and massaging her bottom hole. Biting her lip, she closed her eyes and let the delicious sensations overtake her previous pain.

* * *

A slight smile lifted the corner of his mouth. Abby was doing her best to remain still as ordered, but the walls of her pussy were clutching and grasping at his fingers, and her tiny puckered bottom hole practically begged for his thumb to slip inside. Gently, he pushed the tip of his thumb inside, still massaging the cinnamon oil he’d coated his fingers with into every inch of her delicate skin.
Any minute now
, he thought with a grin.

A slight tensing in her back told him she’d finally felt the effects of the oil. In response, he increased the pressure of his fingers, increasing the heat with every stroke. The pace of her breathing increased, as did the pulse throbbing against his fingers buried inside her. He could tell she was close to orgasm.

“You do not have permission to cum,” he reminded her as he slipped his thumb further in. “If you think you are about to, you will tell me at once.”

“Y—yes, Daddy,” she whimpered, and her body went rigid as she struggled to control herself.

He continued to tease and torment her for another minute before abruptly moving away. The frustrated yelp that escaped her pleased him almost as much as the sight of her reddened ass did. It was clear now he’d been much too soft on her. She’d never really understood what it meant to obey, but after today, he thought she’d have a better understanding. At least she’d think twice before ignoring his phone calls.

Leaving her alone on the coffee table, he went to his room and retrieved a small box from his nightstand. He hadn’t touched it in ages and was eager to introduce Abby to its contents. Returning to the living room, he set it on the coffee table just in front of her and opened it so she could easily see what was inside. Again he took his time making his selection, running his fingers along each item slowly as he considered which to choose. When they reached a short, squat butt plug, she inhaled sharply. With a chuckle he picked it up and moved behind her, leaving the box where it was so she could see what else he had at his disposal.

Her bottom hole was already well oiled, but he lubed the plug up just to be safe. Gently he pressed it against her virgin ass, rotating slowly until at last it slipped inside. It wasn’t the biggest in his collection by any means, but if the way her hips tilted upwards as it went in, it was more than enough to get her attention.

For a moment he simply stood and admired the way it looked, clenched tightly in her lovely little pucker. He had plans for it, but they would have to wait a little longer. He still had work to do.

Picking the flogger up from the floor, he draped it across her untouched cheek, giving her time to realize what was about to happen. He’d told her he was giving her ten strokes; he never said that was all.

Chris took his time delivering ten lashes to her other cheek, careful to keep the flogger from overlapping the angry red flesh of her previously punished cheek. He could hear her crying, but to his surprise, she made it to the end without disobeying his order to keep the volume down.

After he delivered the tenth stroke, he breathed a sigh of relief. As much as he enjoyed the sight of her red striped bottom, he took no pleasure from causing her pain and was relieved the whipping part of her punishment was over.

* * *

Abby struggled to remain in position as she gasped and sobbed. Her knees ached from the hard glass tabletop, but they were nothing compared to the wildfire that consumed her entire backside. To make matters worse, her pussy was on fire as well and begging for relief, and the plug in her bottom was driving her mad. Her first reaction had been to clench down on it, but she’d quickly discovered that made it hurt worse. Relief only came when she forced herself to relax, an act that seemed nearly impossible. When at last he set the flogger aside and told her she’d been a good girl, she nearly wept with gratitude.

Almost immediately his fingers returned to their earlier position between her legs. As her body eagerly accepted his touch, she marveled at how quickly he could turn pain into pleasure. Her bottom was raw and screaming in misery, but as he moved to one side and used his other hand to reach under and squeeze her nipples, the sensations became intertwined and she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone, and after what she’d just been through, she was desperate for release.

“Daddy, please—” Her voice cut off sharply as he twisted one rose colored nipple.

“You will not cum.”

Tears of frustration cascaded over her cheeks as she fought her body’s determination to orgasm. When he released her nipple and moved back behind her, she got a few seconds reprieve, just enough to get herself back under control before she felt the slippery plug begin to pull free of her bottom.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he said, and she felt his fingers apply a cool gel to her stretched bottom hole. “For weeks you’ve been a pain in my ass. Now it’s my turn to be a pain in yours, and you will not cum.”

The realization of what he was about to do finally hit her. She’d expected him to ease himself into her as he had his fingers and the stubby plug. Instead he slipped his entire length into her in one determined thrust, stretching her until she thought she would split in half. This time she did scream, not caring if she broke a rule or if someone outside might hear and look through the picture windows to see her being fucked in her bottom. Pain and pleasure still joined to become one, but now the sensations intensified to the point she could no longer hold still. As he pounded into her from behind, she heard herself babbling incoherently, alternately begging him to stop and pleading with him to continue. Dimly she realized that if he didn’t stop soon, she would cum and there would be nothing she could do about it.

Before that happened, his hands became twin vice grips on her hips. She felt him stiffen and arch behind her and felt his hot cum explode into her bottom. The orgasm she’d been courting for the last hour slipped out of her grasp once more.

Exhausted and frustrated, Abby’s head hung down between her arms as she struggled to remain in position. From behind her she felt Chris lovingly caress her wounded cheeks, then slowly ease his still hard cock out of her sore bottom hole. For a moment she thought he might ease her suffering, at last give her the release she so badly needed, but then she remembered that part of her punishment was not being allowed to cum for two weeks. Defeated, she closed her eyes and held her position on trembling arms and legs, and in doing so found a strange sense of satisfaction.

I did it
, she thought wearily.
I did everything he asked me to.

She hadn’t realized he’d left the room until he returned, until a warm, wet washcloth covered her drenched pussy and ass and gently wiped them clean. She could hear Chris talking tenderly to her as he carefully smoothed a cooling gel over her blistered bottom, but she was too tired to hear the words. The kind approval in his voice was all she needed. As he helped her down from the coffee table and guided her to the room she’d woken up in, she felt at peace for the first time in her memory.

After Chris had pulled the side of the crib down and tucked her into bed, he’d told her she was to stay in bed for a full hour. “And you may not pleasure yourself,” he added. Not that she wanted to anymore, not now that the adrenaline had subsided and the pain in her bruised bottom took front and center. All she wanted to do now was sleep. Chris told her he had to run to the shop to take care of some business and that he would be back by three. After her nap, if she wanted to get out of bed and play with the toys, that was fine, but until he returned she was to remain in the room.