8
Lia
“Ijust want to be free, papa. Can’t you understand?”
“Be reasonable, sweetie. There’s nothing out there for you. Freedom is overrated. Now, be quiet—I need to work.”
I sigh, watching him type quickly on his computer, before staring out at the sprawling green hills.
Maybe I am being unreasonable. But the world outside beckons to me.
I’ve spent all my life locked up in this little cottage, and I’ve only recently been allowed to walk to the little village a mile away on my own.
Maybe I shouldn’t have applied for that job. But I thought I could make a little money. Enough to leave.
I don’t want to leave forever… I just want to see what’s beyond those hills.
But it turns out you can’t get a job without a passport card. And it also turns out I don’t have one of those.
“Have you really checked everywhere, papa?” I plead with him. “There must be some sort of identification somewhere. I can’t possibly have appeared out of thin air, right?”
He pauses again, sighing heavily. “I told you, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that does matter is that I’m your father, and it’s my job to take care of you and protect you from the cruel, dangerous outside world. Now, are you going to behave or do I need to take a belt to you?”
_
I inhale sharply, trying to make sense of the images that throb in my mind while at the same time feeling two hands run over the swell of my ass.
They’re Logan’s. They belong to Logan. At least, I’m pretty sure they do.
It’s hard to keep track of my winding thoughts. To hold onto the threads of sanity that feel like they’re always a step away from unraveling again.
I’ve never been so scared in my life, but I can’t let him know that. He wants me right now, and his touch is real enough that I can cling to it and forget, for a moment at least, the darkness that threatens me.
Then, as he pushes me onto my hands and knees, a different kind of fear makes my breath catch.
“Logan…”
He pauses.
“Hmm?”
“I know you’ve… you’ve…” I cough in discomfort. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve had a lot of relationships and… a lot of sex, these past years. But I haven’t done anything. There are probably cobwebs down there.” I try to laugh, but it comes out strangled.
Smack.
I gasp from the suddenness of his hand falling against my left cheek. It stings, but nowhere near as much as I remember it. Is he being gentle, or don’t I remember right? Or have I gained so much weight I don’t feel it anymore? The thought makes my face flame.
“I would never cheat on you,” he says. “Just for that, you deserve the hardest spanking of your life.”
I bring up my hands—awkwardly balancing on my elbows—to hide my burning face. “It’s not cheating. You thought I was dead. It’s okay, Logan. It doesn’t matter.”
Smack.
This one hurts a lot more, and I bite down on a cry.
“I’m going to spank you until I make it matter.” His voice comes out so harsh that I shiver. “Everything matters. Every single fucking thing. And I would never cheat on you.”
Then he strokes my back reassuringly, and I breathe a little easier. “Even if you’d really been in that grave, I would never cheat on you. Didn’t I tell you you’d always be mine?”
I listen to his words, disbelief pushing through my mind’s confusion. “You can’t mean you’ve never been with anyone in all this time… can you?”
“Well, have you?”
I’m still reeling from his words, so I don’t answer right away. He slams his hand down, five times on each cheek in quick succession, so fast and so hard that I couldn’t yell if I wanted to.
“Have you, brat?”
“I…”
“You better not have.” Smack. “I won’t blame you if you have.” Smack. “But you’d better believe I will hunt any fucker down who’s ever touched you…” Smack. “And I will chop them up into pieces.” Smack. “Hear me?”
“Aah!” I writhe around under his blows, trying to escape the hand that’s now spanking me in earnest. He pulls me so I’m lying across his lap, but it’s only so he can continue the punishment.
“Logan… fuck!”
“Does it matter to you now? Hmm?”
“Ahh! Yes, Logan, yes!”
“That’s right. You crying yet, ghost girl?”
Smack.
“Ahhh!”
“You can still say red, baby,” he reminds me.
I bury my head in my hands again. By now, my cheeks are numb, but still he doesn’t stop.
The punishment has grown frantic, years of agony pouring out into each blow.
And it helps me too. I’m awake now, fully awake, and the pain and numbness on my skin somehow soothe the pain and numbness in my heart.
The loud sobs I hear in the quiet night are mine, but I don’t realize it until Logan pulls me up so that I’m sitting in his lap, huddled against his chest while my burning ass rubs against his… stiffness.
“Shh, ghost girl. Shh, it’s okay.”
I can feel him grow even harder as he licks up each of my tears, then runs his tongue over the trails they’ve left. And then, he kisses me again, and I taste the saltiness of my pain.
“I love you, Lia. I always have. I always will. No grave can change that.”
“I was never with anyone else, Logan.”
“I know that, baby. I just needed a good reason to spank you. Now it’s better. And it’s going to keep getting better. I’m going to spank the pain right out of us both.”
As he speaks, he twists my nipples again in a way that he probably views as affectionate, but hurts like hell.
“I’m going to pinch that place on your ass,” he adds.
I manage to bite down on a fold of his shirt just as his fingers find the flesh that still holds the memory of what he did to it all those years ago. And then he pinches, sending searing pain through my bruised ass.
“Now, tell me who owns you, ghost girl.”
“You… you do! Ow! Fuck! You do!”
“Good girl.”
I whimper loudly when he at last lets go, before pushing me back down onto my back.
“What… what are you doing?” I gasp as he parts my legs, and I feel his face against my pussy.
I think I know what he’s doing but… it feels so strange. So strange, after all this time. I think I must have been sleeping down there.
“Logan, I…”
“Shh. I’m going to lick the cobwebs away. Be a good girl, now.”
Yet again, I hide my blushing face behind my hands as I feel him lick a wet stripe over my slit.
“Oh, god, Logan…”
Just that one lick is enough to make my whole body clench. It feels good, but scary. For my body to startle awake like this, with his tongue against my folds.
I twist and writhe, for some reason trying to escape him, but he pins my legs down, prying them open again when I shut them. Even though I can tell his arm hurts him, he’s still so strong, and I couldn’t move if I wanted to.
And then he licks me again.
And again. Before settling into a rhythm that has me gasping and crying with how terrifyingly helpless I am.
His tongue laves at my folds, torturing the parts of me that make me cry out, sucking in my clit, grazing it with his teeth and sending sparks of pleasure and pain up my core. His tongue enters me, fucking me fast and finding the spot that I remember now used to make me see white. It still does.
And then he attacks my clit again, letting go of one of my legs so he can push a finger inside me.
It’s just one finger, but fuck, it hurts after being untouched for so long. He fucks hard into me, and the pain gives way to a dizzying sensation that has me bucking against him.
“Come for me, brat,” he breathes, his words muffled against me. And then he sucks my clit again, adding another finger inside me, thrusting fast and hard. Moments later, an intense orgasm breaks over me, drenching his face in my arousal.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck.”
I hear the zipper of his fly, and then his cock nudges my entrance. “Tell me if it hurts too much, baby,” he murmurs.
I bite down on a scream as I feel his cock invade me, inch by inch. At last it’s entered me fully, stretching me far more than I remember. He stills inside me, letting me get used once more to his girth, and then he folds me in his arms, pulling me up into a straddling position.
“I don’t remember… how to move correctly,” I tell him, hugging him to me.
“You don’t need to move,” he whispers. “You don’t need to do anything but be here. You are here, aren’t you, ghost girl? You’re not just a dream?”
“I don’t think so,” I breathe. “I hope not.”
“You better not fucking be.” He starts to move in me, slowly at first, but each of his thrusts hurts like hell.
And he doesn’t wait until I’m fully used to it; soon, his pumping gets faster and deeper, and I’m wriggling around him again, partly to try to get away from the pain, partly because I need to feel helpless in his arms.
He locks me to him, and after a while, I sag against him, my head on his shoulder, succumbing at last.
My body’s stopped fighting it, and little by little, the pain ebbs, pleasure taking its place.
Now, it feels good to be stretched. It still hurts, but each thrust hits the part deep inside me that electrifies my nerves.
My cries of pain turn into moans of pleasure, and seeing it, he drives into me harder, so hard that my body shudders with another orgasm. And then a third.
“Ooh, fuck.”
His cock swells, and I feel his cum fill me. He stills inside me, holding me to him for a few moments before pulling out. He lies me back on the grass, parting my legs and watching his cum trickle out of me.
And I let him. I’m so spent I no longer feel humiliated or confused, or awkward at the way he’s got me splayed on the ground, showing him all of me.
“You look so hot with my cum inside you,” he murmurs, stroking my belly.
His touch there brings back a sudden, horrible memory.
I sit up hurriedly, pulling my knees to my chest before he can stop me.
“What’s wrong?”
I pass a hand over my eyes, my heart racing.
“Baby? What is it? What did I do?”
I open my mouth, trying to tell him it’s not him. But how can I, when I don’t know what it is?