Chapter 24
VANESSA
The morning after our disastrous midnight kitchen raid, I wake before Dane. But for once, my mind doesn’t go immediately to how I might be able to slip free of his grasp and this house.
Instead, I just… watch him. Even in sleep, he has a presence about him, large and powerful and dangerous. It’s at such odds with the way he held me last night, the way he comforted me and rocked me that it’s almost hard to believe he’s the same man.
I’d thought for sure when he whisked me upstairs so quickly after my double spanking, that he was planning to punish me again. That’s the rule, right? If someone else spanks you, then you get another punishment from Daddy. A stupid rule, in my opinion, but it is the rule.
Which is why it’s so confusing that instead of another spanking or getting my bottom fucked until I begged for mercy, he chose to simply… hold me. The memory of how loved, how cherished I felt in that moment washes over me, and an uncomfortable pressure wells inside my chest.
Fuck me sideways. Have I fallen in love with my sexy lumberjack captor?
No. As soon as the thought pops into my mind, I bat it away. There’s no possible way this feeling is love, not real love anyway. Stockholm Syndrome, maybe, but not actual love.
I’m still staring at him, grappling with the uneasy feelings inside me when his eyes open, the dark brown slightly glazed with sleep. His beard twitches as a smile curves his lips, and the next thing I know, I’m in his arms, being pulled into him.
For once, I don’t fight. Even when his hand slides down my body to cup my bottom, I don’t try to push him away or wriggle out of his embrace. And it feels so… right.
But it’s not right. Something is very, very wrong with me.
I don’t have it in me to analyze what it might be right now, however. Not with his hands wandering over my back and bottom, igniting little fires of need everywhere he touches.
“My pretty little fox,” he murmurs, dipping his head to brush his lips along the side of my neck. “How are you feeling this morning?”
My bottom clenches at his question, reigniting the pain from last night’s punishment. “Sore.”
His responding chuckle vibrates against the side of my neck. “Poor little fox. Do you need Daddy to kiss it and make it all better?”
It shocks me how badly I want him to do exactly that. But I can’t quite bring myself to say the words out loud, so I nod, my cheeks heating with shame at my silent confession.
“Hmm.” Amusement winds around the humming sound he makes. “Ask me nicely and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”
What is with this man and wanting me to ask him to debase me? Is it part of the game for him? Does he derive some twisted sort of pleasure out of forcing me to beg him to humiliate me?
Probably. Yes. Definitely.
That knowledge should be enough to stop me in my tracks. But I already know I’m going to give him whatever he wants if it means getting his hands on me.
“Please, Daddy,” I manage to whisper, arching against him, grinding my diaper-covered pussy against his thigh. “Please.”
Another low humming sound filled with amusement reaches my ears. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, little fox.” The hand cupping my bottom squeezes, sending flashes of pain and pleasure arcing through my body. “Tell Daddy exactly what you want.”
I hate him. Or I guess it would be more accurate to say I wish I still hated him. I want to hate him for stripping every shred of dignity from me, for turning me into this depraved little sex doll of his.
But I don’t hate him. I crave him, with every ounce of my being.
And I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for that.
Right now, however, I can’t obsess over what he’s done to me, what he’s turned me into. So I shove those thoughts aside and focus on getting what I so desperately want.
Him. Inside me. However I can get him.
“Please… please kiss my bottom and make it better. Daddy,” I add, my entire body heating with humiliation.
“Of course, my sweet little fox. You only had to ask.”
Biting my tongue against a sarcastic retort that will only get me in trouble, I let him roll me onto my stomach.
There’s a gentle tug and my diaper gives way, and I nearly sigh with relief as the cool air wafts over my skin.
Even though the pain of my punishments has mostly faded, it still feels good to be released from the confines of my diaper.
Something prickly brushes against the back of my thigh, and I’m not quick enough to smother the squeal that slips from my lips at the ticklish sensation. Deep laughter vibrates against my skin as Daddy presses a kiss to my sit-spot.
“Does that tickle, babygirl?”
“Uh-huh.”
Again he moves his head, and I giggle as his beard tickles the back of my other thigh. “Daddy, stop!”
“Not a chance. I love your laugh, and I don’t get to hear it nearly enough.”
His words freeze me in place, the very air in my lungs refusing to budge. It’s such a little thing, but for some reason it feels… huge. Like an acknowledgement that he sees me as a real person. A real person whose happiness matters to him.
No. No, I can’t go there. If I let myself think, for even one second, that he actually cares about me, I’ll want to stay.
I can’t let that happen.
Shoving those dangerous thoughts to the back of my mind, I lift my hips. “Daddy, you said if I asked nicely you’d kiss my ouchies and make them all better.”
“You’re right, baby, Daddy did say that. And a good Daddy always keeps his promises.”
With that, he grips each of my bottom cheeks in his large hands and pulls them apart, exposing my hole to his gaze. It doesn’t seem to matter that he’s fucked me there multiple times, the humiliation of being so on display for him never fades.
But then he does something that cranks my embarrassment up to a hundred.
He kisses me.
Right on my asshole.
Oh. My. God.
“Daddy!” The protest comes out as a shocked squeak, humiliating me even further. “Not there!”
“But this is what you asked for, little fox. You asked Daddy to kiss your bottom and make it all better.”
“I didn’t get spanked on my bottom hole!”
Again he chuckles, the sound vibrating against my exposed entrance. “No, but you’ve been fucked here plenty of times, so I’m sure it needs some Daddy kisses too.”
Before I can assure him that no, my asshole does not need kisses, he pulls my cheeks even further apart. I try to clench them together, but I’m no match for his strength.
Something warm and wet prods at my hole and I realize with growing horror that it’s his tongue. He’s fucking my asshole with his tongue.
God, if you’re there, please just take me now.
But there is no answer from on high. Only my continued humiliation as Daddy continues to swipe his tongue over my entrance, licking and nibbling and teasing what should be a completely forbidden place.
The worst part of this entire experience is how much I don’t actually hate it. My embarrassment only serves to heighten my pleasure, and every stroke of his tongue turns me into a needy, whiny little mess beneath him. Until I’m whimpering and gasping and begging for more.
“Shhh, baby. You’re being such a good girl for me this morning. Daddy’s so very proud of you, little fox.”
His praise soothes some of the sting of humiliation, though not as much as I’d like. “You are?”
“So very, very proud. Would you like a reward for being such a good girl for me, baby?”
My ears perk up at that. “What kind of reward?”
“Daddy’s going to fuck you, one way or another. But I’ll let you choose which of your sweet little holes gets filled with Daddy’s cock this morning.”
Excitement pounds through my veins. I can finally get fucked the right way.
Right on the heels of that excitement comes a twist of guilt. Even though he says I’m being good for him, I know I haven’t been a very good girl overall. I haven’t done anything to earn being fucked the right way, and I know it.
Does that matter, though? If Daddy says I can choose, then obviously he thinks I’ve earned that right. So I should take him at his word.
But when I open my mouth to tell him that yes, I want his cock in my pussy, where it belongs, that isn’t what comes out.
“M-My bottom.”
“Are you sure, little one?” Two fingers push into my dripping pussy and I whimper with need as I rock back against his hand. “You don’t want Daddy to fuck this needy little kitty?”
“I do. But I–I was naughty. Really naughty. And naughty girls get fucked in their bottoms”
Fucking hell. What is wrong with me?
“I see.”
There’s a weight to his words that tells me he sees far more than I’d like him to. And yet, I still can’t help but ask, “What do you see?”
“I see that my naughty girl is still feeling guilty about last night. But that’s okay. Daddy knows just how to make all those guilty feelings go away.”