Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Gideon
Back straight, chin lifted, my little doll is the very picture of defiance. Yet, somehow, I’m not bothered. If anything, this feels like it’s been a long time coming. Maybe this is what she needs, this final act of rebellion before she can truly accept her place here on the island.
And as her Daddy, it’s my responsibility to give her exactly what she needs.
Moving with slow, deliberate steps, I place the strap on the wide railing where she’ll be able to see it as I punish her. As I roll my sleeves to my elbows, I consider stripping her naked. But no. I want her in her cute little schoolgirl uniform. I want everything about this punishment to remind her of who she is.
Of who she belongs to.
She watches me in silence, her dark eyes tracking my every movement. And though there is still rebellion in her gaze, there is need, too. Confirming my suspicions that as much as she may rail against my ownership of her, she needs it. Needs my dominance, my discipline.
Needs me to be exactly who I am. Her Daddy.
Taking one of her hands, I pick up a length of rope I’d set aside a moment ago, wrapping it around her wrist. With a single sharp tug, Isabella stumbles forward and I force her hand to the railing, the dark green of the rope stark against her pale skin as it winds around and around both her wrist and the marble railing.
With one hand secured, I bring the rope across to her other arm, repeating the same process until I’m sure that no matter what, my little doll isn’t going anywhere.
Pink colors her cheeks and her eyes flash with fury as she tugs at the restraints, her dainty foot rising and falling against the balcony in a move that brands her as a defiant Little girl no matter how much she fights against it. That single act of stomping her foot settles something inside me.
Regardless of what she may say, how she may beg, Isabella is my Little girl. Her place is here, with me.
And it’s high time she learns it.
* * *
Izzy
There is no give in the rope tying me to the railing in front of me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m aware I should be panicked about being completely immobile, at my Daddy’s mercy, but all I feel is… calm.
This is all out of my hands. No matter how I fight or scream or beg, nothing I do will change the outcome of what’s about to happen. For reasons I can’t explain, that knowledge brings me a sense of peace. As if I’m able to finally let go of the expectations I’ve placed on myself to find a way out of here, to save myself.
I am the princess trapped in the tower. And there is no one coming to save me. Not even myself.
Behind me, my dragon shifts, and a moment later I feel a rush of cool air as my diaper is stripped from me. My school uniform is raised out of the way, tucked up into the waistband of the skirt, leaving me bare and exposed.
Daddy grabs my legs, shifting me so I’m forced to bend at the waist, to expose myself further. Anger flashes through me, dispelling that peace I felt only a moment ago, but I swallow it down as I shift into position, offering myself up for my punishment.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl tonight, Isabella.” Daddy’s voice is calm, without even a hint of the anger I feel coursing through my veins. “Naughty and rebellious and defiant. Because you still don’t believe, not truly, that you are my Little girl. Tonight we are going to fix that, once and for all. Tonight you are going to learn that every inch of your sweet body belongs to your Daddy.”
A sharp spank lands on my bottom, right at the sensitive curve where ass meets thigh, and butterflies explode in my stomach. He’s aiming to teach me a lesson, right from the start, and I know without him saying a word that this is a punishment I will feel for days to come.
Over and over he spanks me, covering my entire bottom and upper thighs with stinging swats, until every inch that he’s touched feels like he sat me on a hot stove. I dance in place, yelping with every spank, but with my arms tied as they are, there is no escaping my punishment.
By the time he stops, his hand stroking my heated flesh, I’m panting and gasping for air, my bottom radiating with pain. And for a moment, I think how well I took my punishment, without begging or pleading even once.
Then my gaze lands on the thick leather strap in front of me, and I realize he’s only just begun.
As if sensing my thoughts, Daddy picks up the leather, allowing it to dangle in front of me for a moment before he takes up his position behind me again.
“Normally, I would have a set number of strokes in mind, depending on the severity of the offense. But this isn’t about correcting a specific behavior. This is about reminding you of your place, little one. So I am not going to stop until I am absolutely convinced you understand and believe you belong with me.”
“Then you're going to have to whip me until your arm falls off because I will never accept that.”
“We’ll see.”
With that, pain explodes across my bottom. Deep, stinging pain more intense than anything I’ve ever felt before and I can’t stop myself from crying out. The island itself seems to swallow my cries, drinking them in before they have a hope of reaching anyone.
Not that it would matter. Who on this island would dare defy my Daddy and come to my rescue? There is no knight, no savior.
There is only me and him and the lesson he’s determined to teach me.
A second stroke catches the lower half of my bottom, the edge of the leather digging into my sit-spots and I know wearing a diaper after this will be utter agony. The third lands even lower, and tears blur my vision as the pain threatens to overwhelm me.
“Who do you belong to, Isabella?”
Gasping for air, I shake my head. “No one.”
Wrong answer . Even if he doesn’t speak the words, they seem to reverberate in the very air around us as the sickening crack of leather meeting skin rings out in the night. Every few strokes, he stops to ask me the same question, and every few strokes, I give him the same answer.
I’ve lost count of how many times he’s whipped me when he stops, brushing my hair back from my tear and sweat soaked face. “You can stop this whenever you want, little doll. I don’t want to break you, but if that’s what it takes for you to accept the truth, then I will.”
Turning my head, I meet his dark gaze. “You will never break me.”
Determination flashes in his eyes. “You’re far more fragile than you’ll ever admit, Isabella. And you will break. It’s up to you how long it takes.”
When the whipping starts again, there is no pause this time. The strokes land faster, harder than before, and try as I might to cling to myself, I know in my heart he’s right. I am but a fragile little doll, and if he wants to break me, there is nothing I can do to stop him.
And then it happens. The strap lands at exactly the right spot, criss-crossing over the welts the leather has already raised on my skin, and my mind goes blank with the pain. White explodes behind my eyelids, and I scream into the night as I collapse to my knees, sobbing.
While I’m kneeling there, my hands still trapped against the railing, weeping out the weeks of pain and fear and anger, he kneels beside me, his gentle hand stroking my hair.
“Who do you belong to, Isabella?”
There’s no point in fighting it any longer. I tried, I tried so hard, and my heart breaks for the version of myself that thought I could win against him as I sob out my answer. “Y-you.”
“And who am I?”
“D-Daddy.”
“My precious little doll. I hope after tonight there will never again be a question of you leaving my side. On your feet.”
He helps me stand, this time allowing me to lean forward and rest my torso on the marble railing as he takes his place behind me. Through the haze of my grief and tears, I hear the sound of a zipper coming undone and what sounds like liquid being squirted out of a bottle.
But he doesn’t immediately thrust inside me, the way I expected him to. Instead, the tip of his cock presses against my bottom hole and I immediately clench in response, desperate to keep him from claiming this last, forbidden part of me.
“Do you remember what I told you happens to Little girls who are very, very naughty, Isabella?”
I do, but I can’t bring myself to say it.
“Let me remind you.” The slick head of his cock breaches my entrance despite my best efforts, forcing me open with a fresh wave of pain. “Little girls who defy their Daddies, who refuse to obey, get their bottoms whipped and fucked until Daddy is very, very certain they’ve learned their lesson.”
Panic grips me, forcing the pleas I’ve managed to hold back so far from my lips. “I have, I have! I promise, Daddy! I’ll never be naughty again!”
But my begging goes unanswered. Or, I suppose, he does answer me. He answers me with more pain as he continues his invasion of my body. It’s agony, being ripped open this way, and I weep against the railing as his thick cock spreads me wider and wider with every inch.
Until, at last, he’s seated inside me, the heat of his skin pressed against my aching flesh.
“Who do you belong to, Isabella?”
I can barely choke out the words. “Y-you, Daddy.”
“That’s right. And if I have to repeat this lesson every week for the rest of our lives in order for you to remember, that is exactly what I will do.”
With that, he pulls back, his cock scraping against my sensitive inner walls. It’s a relief, not having my bottom full of him, but that relief only lasts for a second before he drives forward again, shocking another cry of pain from me as he slams into my bottom.
Just as he vowed a moment ago, he fucks my already well-punished bottom with hard, merciless thrusts. For what seems like forever, I’m caught in a state of constant agony as he continues my punishment without pause.
But then Daddy slides a hand around to my pussy and I’m shocked to realize his fingers slip between my lips with ease. I am soaked, dripping for him, even as he forces this unimaginable pain on me.
Or is it because he’s forcing it on me?
That thought is almost too much to bear. But I’m done lying to myself. I’m done pretending there isn’t something about this man that pulls me in, that makes me crave him. Makes me crave the pain and humiliation of being his Little girl. After all, where has that gotten me? Tied to a railing, whipped until I’m certain I’ll never sit comfortably again, with my bottom full of my Daddy’s cock.
Maybe it’s time to see what facing that side of me head on will bring.
Closing my eyes, I welcome the pain. And when his clever fingers find my swollen clit, I surrender to the pleasure that is pain’s perfect twin. Opposite and yet somehow the same.
That pleasure takes me over, melding with the pain into a maelstrom of sensation that shatters me. I scream into the night again, but this time the island seems to scream with me, rejoicing in my acceptance.
“Again,” Daddy growls in my ear, his thrusts becoming more frantic as he fucks my aching bottom harder, faster than before. “Let Daddy feel you come with your bottom stuffed full of his cock.”
Pain is pleasure and pleasure is pain. Two sides of the same filthy coin, flooding my veins, overwhelming me as I surrender to Daddy’s will. As I allow myself to become his Little girl in every possible way.
And this time, when it shatters me, my bottom clenches around Daddy’s cock as he drives home one final time, filling me with his sticky cum.
We stand there for a while, him pressed against me, me pressed against the railing as our breathing evens out. It isn’t until I whimper that he pulls out of me, carefully untying me from the railing and carrying me back into the house.
He runs us a bath, and he holds me in his arms as I sink into the blissful warmth of the water with a sigh. When he cleans me, his touch is far more gentle than it was on the balcony. There’s fresh pain as the washcloth brushes over my welted bottom, but I welcome it. The pain is no longer just something I must bear, but a reminder of how wanted I am. How desperate he is to keep me here on this island with him.
How could I have ever doubted him?
Finally, after we’re both clean and dry, he wraps me in a diaper and tucks me into bed. No nightclothes for us, just the feel of skin against skin as I drift off to sleep, safe and loved in my Daddy’s arms.