Her Hollywood Daddy (5 page)

He turned on the shower and waited until the water warmed, then held out his hand. “Come in here, baby.”

She touched her half-dried straggly hair and looked chagrined. Easing off the counter, she took his hand, allowing him to help her into the large two-person tiled shower stall. “This is beautiful,” she said as he propelled her forward into the angle of the water spray. She sighed, leaning her head back into the water.

He shucked his clothes and stepped in with her. Picking up a bar of soap, he rolled it between his hands before sudsing circles around her perky size C’s.

“Mmm,” she covered his hands with her own and closed her eyes.

“Beautiful girl,” he murmured. He proceeded to soap every line and curve of her torso. When he reached her pretty little pussy, he soaped her mound and outer lips and crouched down with a razor. “Little girls are smooth and bare for their daddies,” he said. He lifted one of her knees over his shoulder to give himself access and carefully shaved her entire area clean.

When he stood back up, she wore the most tantalizing expression. The actress playing the ingenue, her face radiated innocent pleasure while she held her body in seductive repose. Her full breasts arched up, her bottom angled out. “Turn around,” he said, his voice thick.

She turned to face the spray of water.

He grasped her waist and pushed her forward. “Hands on the wall,” he said. Lathering the soap again, he slid his fingers into her crack, sudsing the insides of her cheeks, massaging her anus with his middle finger until her knees buckled and she moaned with need.

He realized he hadn’t brought a condom into the shower, nor had they really negotiated sex, just spanking. He wrapped one arm around her waist and put his lips to her ear. “I want you,” he said in guttural tones.

She answered by pushing her ass back against his aching shaft.

“Do you want me to take you, Marissa?” he asked, not wanting to use the Daddy/little girl talk for sex in case she did not feel comfortable mixing it with their new dynamic.

“Yes, Daddy,” she breathed, answering both questions.

“Don’t move,” he said, stepping quickly out of the shower to grab a condom from the drawer. When he returned, she looked as if she’d taken the order to heart, standing as still as a statue, the spray of water beating down her back and running down the slopes of her reddened ass.

He ripped open the condom and slid it on as he re-entered the shower, wasting no time. “Push your bottom back,” he commanded.

She arched more, rolling her pussy back to his view.

He pushed his shaft against her, seeking her wet channel. The head of his cock made contact with her heat, parting her folds. “Oh God, you feel so good,” he said, sliding in, relishing the bliss of her tight channel.

She made a pleading sound, as if she wanted more.

He braced one hand on the shower wall beside hers and reached the other around to find her clit, flicking the little button intermittently to tease her.

She moaned, throwing her head back to rest on his shoulder, arching like a porn star beneath him. Her muscles gripped his cock and when he realized she was doing it on purpose—tightening and releasing—he lost all control.

He shoved in, balls deep, and began to pound into her with hard, upward thrusts. He braced her hips with one hand around her waist, the other against the wall beside hers. The water accentuated the slapping sound of his flesh against hers.

“Oh my God,” she panted. “Yes...harder.”

He nearly lost it. He slammed into her again and again, punishing her hot ass each time his hips connected with hers, pummeling her sweet little pussy until she raised her voice in a throaty cry. Cum shot down his shaft, the release explosive. He pinched her clit and she came, her body jerking back against his, the inner walls of her pussy clenching his cock like a fist.

“Oh yeah,” he groaned as his orgasm continued, augmented by her spectacular finish. He remained pressed against her, waiting until her muscles relaxed and she sagged against him.

He eased out of her and removed the condom, stepping out of the shower. He quickly dried off and pulled on his clothes. When she turned off the water and peeked out from behind the curtain, he held a large towel open for her.

Her face split into a sweet smile, grateful and demure at the same time. The urge to completely care for her hit him hard. He wrapped her up in the towel, drying her and squeezing out her hair. She stood docilely, allowing it, although looking slightly bewildered and shy, as if no one had ever pampered her before. He helped her into his robe and led her by the hand to one of the chairs in his bedroom, where she could see the ocean while he combed out her hair.

With the punishment and sex concluded, she grew nervous. He sensed the question emanating from her, and wondered whether she’d have the courage to ask it.

“So...what happens now?” she asked at last, stealing a glance at him as he dragged the comb through her hair.

He dropped into the chair beside her. “I will advocate for your return to the movie. The studio will probably want something from you.”

“Like what?”

“Well, they’re going to want a guarantee you will fulfill your contract, which I’m going to provide, since I’ll be managing you, as your Daddy,” he said with a wink.

She gave him a shy smile.

“You will learn your lines, show up on time and give one hundred and ten percent every day you’re on the set.”

“Of course.”

“You may need to accept a pay cut which to cover the expense the studio has incurred

on the wasted shoots.”

Her eyes rounded and she looked miserable about this condition, but she still nodded.

“So we have a deal—you and I?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she murmured, then lifted her head with a questioning look.

“Yes, you will call me
Daddy
or
sir
when we’re alone; Joel when we’re working or with others.”

She gave him a chaste peck on the cheek.

“You will behave with maturity and grace when we’re in public. When we’re alone, you’ll be my baby girl. Oh, and there’s something else we should discuss. Some people don’t like to be in ageplay mode when they’re having sex. What are your feelings?”

She rubbed her lips together. “So this is called ageplay?” When he nodded, she said, “Well...isn’t sex kind of the point? I mean, this is a fetish, right?”

“That’s how I feel about it. But some people feel like it’s too incest-like, or pedophiliac—I don’t know if that’s a real word,” he said with a grin.

“Do...um...are you interested in children?”

“Absolutely not. I like adult Littles. A sexualized adolescence. Really, I like to be completely in control, so Daddy fits the bill. And just for the record, psychologists have confirmed there’s no correlation between an interest in ageplay and pedophilia.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any offense. I’m just trying to understand.”

“I know. None taken.”

“So I’m your Little? Until we finish shooting the movie?”

“You will give yourself to me completely. I’m in charge of you now, and you know how I will deal with disobedience.”

He watched the flush stain her cheeks, her eyes dilating. He’d been looking for any signs that she resented the spanking he’d given her earlier, but it seemed he’d read her right—submission turned her on. He caught her face in his hand and turned it, kissing the side of her mouth without the cold sore. “Don’t worry—I’m going to take good care of you.”

Her body tingled all over. Even though she hadn’t liked the spanking once it had become intense, now the heat and pulse of it seemed to keep her in a state of heightened sex drive. She couldn’t stop staring at Joel’s lips, feeling his sheer masculine power pouring over her in waves. She wanted him to take her again, the way he’d taken her in the shower—roughly, wholly.

She’d never had sex with that level of passion before, and now she never wanted to have it the old way again.

He picked up the comb and continued gently detangling her hair at the same time he dialed a number on his phone and put it to his ear.

“Marissa is back on,” he said when the person on the other line answered.

She stilled¸ listening. The sound of an angry male voice answered him.

“She’s here at my house and she’s going to stay here until the filming is over. I will personally guarantee her full cooperation.”

More angry tones. It must be Antonio. At least she hoped it was Antonio and not studio executives. Antonio’s hot head she could handle. Pissed off cut-throat execs, not so much.

“I’ll set up a meeting with the studio for tomorrow morning and we’ll hammer out the details. Nine a.m. Okay, I’ll see you there.”

He ended the call and made another one, this time to someone at the studio. From what she understood, they agreed to arrange a meeting for the morning.

The thought of meeting with them the next day with her tail between her legs made her feel sick. And she would need to let her mother know what had happened so she could be there as her manager.

“Do you think they’ll take me back?” she asked when he hung up.

He pursed his lips. “I think the pay cut will be the key to making this all fly.”

She slumped in his lap.

He rubbed her back. “It will be all right. You will need to look properly remorseful, but I won’t let them eat you for lunch. I promise.”

She leaned back into his arms, wanting to believe him, wanting to trust this make-believe game of having a big, strong, all-powerful daddy to look after her could really be true. But she still didn’t even understand the rules of the game. And it was a game—she had no illusion of keeping Joel Sutherland for longer than it would take him to wrap up the movie filming.

“Tell me what happened to you this morning, Marissa.”

She stiffened and tried to sit up, but he pulled her back down, stroking her arms. She drew a breath. “My sister invited my asshole ex-boyfriend and his band over to play a house concert at my place last night.”

He waited, saying nothing.

“I had a hard time getting to sleep and I guess I forgot to set my alarm,” she admitted.

“So you stayed up partying against last night?”

“No,” she snapped, twisting around to glare at him. “I couldn’t sleep because my sister invited my asshole ex-boyfriend and his band over,” she repeated, wanting him to see how this was all Bev’s fault.

He looked at her, his face impassive.

“What?”

“What options did you have to change that situation to prevent a problem for yourself this morning?”

Pressure built beneath her nose and cheekbones as hot anger rushed to her face. “I don’t know,” she snapped.

She waited for him to snap back, but he said nothing.

She considered his question. “I could’ve left, I guess, and stayed at a hotel. But I shouldn’t have to, it’s my house!”

He nodded.

She swallowed. “I could’ve kicked them out, but then it would’ve looked like he got to me.”

“Did he get to you?” Joel asked, studying her.

Tears pricked her eyes. “No,” she said, too vehemently. She dropped her head to get control.

He put a finger under her chin to lift it back up. “Did you love him?” he asked softly.

She scowled. Sitting on Joel Sutherland’s lap with a sore bottom and his full attention made Billy Foxx seem completely insignificant. She shook her head. “No.”

“So what got to you?”

“He publicly humiliated me. He didn’t even have the decency to break up with me before he started—”

Joel touched her lips, stopping the diatribe. “Do you want to be with him?”

Did she? She’d been happy enough with him. Except now she knew he was a two-timing playboy who had just slept with her sister while his girlfriend had passed out in the room below. “No,” she said decisively. As she said the word, a weight cleared from her chest. She didn’t want to be with Billy Foxx, so his betrayal meant significantly less than it had a few moments before.

She sucked on her lower lip. “You probably think I’m a mess.”

“No,” he said, his thumb stroking her cheekbone. “I think you’re a talented actress with incredible potential whose current lifestyle choices might be affecting her well-being.”

She looked at him from under her lashes, allowing a hint of coquettishness. “And I just need a daddy to look after me?”

HIs lips curved into a devastating smile. “That’s what I’m thinking. A very strict Daddy who will not hesitate to warm your bottom for you.”

She wanted to believe he could make it all better, but the underlying anxiety over her big-picture problems remained. She shoved them down to the pit of her belly and snuggled into his warm embrace. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“Are you hungry, little girl?” he asked, stroking her hip. “You must be. What have you eaten today?”

“I’m starving,” she admitted, starting to stand up.

He lifted her off his lap and stood, patting her bottom. It wasn’t nearly as sore as it had been an hour ago, which was slightly disappointing.

She wrapped his robe more tightly around her and trailed him into the kitchen.

He opened the refrigerator door and peered inside. “Turkey sandwich?”

“I don’t eat bread, but sure.”

He paused. “Right.” He looked back in the fridge.

“It’s fine. I’ll just have the turkey. Do you want me to fix dinner?”

“No,” he said, pulling out the sandwich fixings. “I’m making dinner. Your time would best be served…” he paused as if inventing it as he went, “bending over that counter and showing Daddy your punished bottom.”

Something fluttered in her belly. Her head felt hot and buzzy. At the tender age of twenty-four, she’d spent more than half her lifetime performing. She understood perfectly what he wanted from her, and she was happy to comply. She walked to the granite countertop and leaned over it, hiking the robe up to reveal her bottom. Reaching back, she ran her hand over her cheeks, squeezing a little to renew the pain.

She winced. Still tender. She heard the sounds of plates coming out of the cabinet, mayo and mustard bottles squirting. She decided the robe was in the way and slipped it off, letting it fall to her feet. Fully naked now, she rested her cheek on the counter and reached back with both hands, rubbing her bottom like a naughty girl.

Joel’s hand tangled in her hair and he lifted her head up. His breath felt hot in her ear. “You look so cute like that, little girl.”

“I was hoping,” she purred.

“Were you?” His voice sounded deep and gravelly. He caught her nipple and tugged it, pinching and rolling it between his fingers. She crossed her legs and squeezed, her pussy clamping in response.

He slapped the back of her thigh, lightly. “Open those legs for Daddy.”

She slid her feet apart.

He slapped again, a little harder.

She gasped.

“Wider.”

She stepped out further.

“Good girl,” he said, his fingers reaching around the front of her to stroke along her slit. “Now, let’s go over some rules of the house,” he said, sliding open the drawer beside her and pulling out a rubber spatula, followed by a heavy wooden spoon. Moisture began to seep between her legs and he gathered it, spreading it up her labia and circling her clit. “I expect instant and complete obedience from my baby girl,” he said. “And I will control your entire world. You won’t leave the house without permission, you won’t eat or drink unless I approve the food and you won’t watch television unless I determine if the shows are appropriate. I will dress you or give final approval on any outfit you choose.”

She giggled and then yelped when the wooden spoon connected sharply with her ass.

“Do you think that’s funny, little girl?”

“No sir, no Daddy,” she yelped.  

He patted her bottom with the spoon. “Any disobedience or sass will be immediately punished. I can be a very stern daddy.”

Why did those words make her want to swoon? She literally felt light-headed as she gripped the edge of the countertop. She wanted to cry, or laugh. No, she wanted to come.

“Please take me, Daddy,” she asked in her best little girl voice.

“Interlace your fingers and put them on the back of your head,” he said gruffly. “And don’t move.”

He left the room and she felt abandoned until she realized he’d probably gone for a condom. Sure enough, when he returned, she heard the sound of the package ripping open. She wiggled her bottom, hoping to look tempting.

“I’m going to have a hard time not taking you morning, noon and night,” he said, sliding one finger over her swollen slit again. “But that’s not part of our arrangement.” He leaned forward and bit the flesh between her neck and shoulder, his sheathed cock angling between her legs. “You can tell me no,” he breathed in her ear, even as the head of his penis pushed into her.

She furrowed her brow, trying to decipher his meaning. He would be her daddy and spank her but not have sex with her? That just seemed weird. Wasn’t the whole point of the game a fetish? Something that turned him on?

“Put your hands back on the counter to brace yourself,” he murmured.

Just the words
brace yourself
had her pushing back at him, eager for something rough and raw. “Please take me, Daddy,” she repeated.

He grabbed her hips and began to pump in and out with more force. “You’re a very good girl to give yourself so eagerly to Daddy,” he said.

She liked the praise and arched her back for him, clenching her pussy around his cock to make it tighter for him.

“Oh God, I love it when you do that,” he said, his movements growing rougher. “You’re so tight, just like a little girl should be for her Daddy.”

“Oh yesss,” she squealed.

He slammed into her and stayed and she let herself go, the orgasm rippling through her in a series of contractions. Joel wrapped both arms around her chest and lifted her upright, kissing her neck. “Good girl, Marissa. My little Rissa-Roo.”

The endearment sent another orgasm squeezing his cock.

She drank in his affection, in wonderment at how easy it was to please him. His expectations were clearly defined. All she had to do was do whatever he said. Her personality, her life had already been set up that way. She’d just never experienced such a sweet reward.

*****

Joel slipped out of her and disposed of the condom, washing his hands. He put the robe back around her shoulders, holding it out for her to slip back on. He wrapped his arms around her waist to tie it in front. Picking up her hand, he pulled her to the barstools at the breakfast counter, lifting her to sit on one.

She giggled. “I can get up myself.”

“Not when your Daddy wants to do it for you,” he said, arching an eyebrow sternly.

She giggled again, tucking her hair behind one ear and peeking up at him.
Adorable.

He set a plate in front of her and she smiled. He’d wrapped turkey in lettuce leaves and rolled them up with mustard and mayo into four little logs. A pickle and sliced tomato stood on the side of the plate.

“Mm,” she said, picking one up and nearly devouring it whole. “This is so good,” she said with her mouth full.

He smiled indulgently and dabbed mustard from the corner of her mouth with a napkin.

She blushed and licked at it, teasing him with the sight of her little pink tongue. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked.

“It’s my job,” he said. “I took you on as my Little. That means I take care of you.”

She looked at him blankly.

“A daddy dom is different from a sadist. We like control, but we also like to care for our submissive.”

She sat up straighter. “So what exactly...what else do you like?”

He picked up one of her turkey rolls and fed her a bite. “I like to spank. A lot,” he admitted.

She blushed. “I got that part.”

“I’m into a total power exchange. I call all the shots. But I also take full responsibility for your pleasure, safety and well-being.”

She chewed slowly. “So is this serious? Or just a game?”

One corner of his mouth tugged upward. “A serious game, I suppose.”

She seemed to accept that. “So I’m your Little?”

He smiled. ‘You’re my Little.”

“Just like that? We go from one lunch date to a total power exchange?”