Daddy's Girl: A Daddy Issues Novel by Rebel Wild (books to read for 13 year olds .TXT) 📕

move. As he walks away, I steal a glance to see what he’s going to get, but he turns around too fast and I lower my eyes to the floor so he doesn’t catch me. His bare feet appear as he stands before me. Oh, my God, am I going to have to kiss his feet? Nope, I won’t do it. I will not do it. I better stop thinking it before it somehow puts the idea in his head.

“Hands,” he says. I hold out both to him and watch as he binds one of my wrists with a brown leather restraint.

The inside is lined with soft beige synthetic fur. He slips a finger inside to test its snugness before he moves on to my other wrist. Both of my hands are then yanked high over my head, causing me to look up. I watch him hook the strap of one restraint and then the other to two large carabiners in the grated ceiling. He shakes them to make sure I am secure.

“Look at me, Foxy,” he says and my cautious green eyes meet his cold dark ones. He looks like he’s about to beat the crap out of me. My hands violently twist as I struggle against the restraints. “Be still,” he says, making me stop.

“Yes, sir.”

He takes a step back to admire his work. I’m standing here in nothing but my underwear, feet flat on the ground, and my arms tied in a victory position. His stone face turns into a devilish smirk as his eyes roam over my body.

“Did you think the cotton underwear would deter me?”

“I…” I start to truly answer him until I catch myself. “Yes, sir.”

He clicks his tongue, tutting at me. Any other time, I would be amused, but not as I stand helplessly dangling like a fish caught on his line.

“You underestimate yourself, Foxy,” he says. “Nothing you wear could make you less appealing to me and therein lies my problem.” I watch as he goes to the far wall and retrieves a dark brown riding crop. My bulging eyes and futile attempts to shy away from him as he nears me doesn’t go unnoticed. “If I planned to hurt you tonight, I would have told you by now.”

I nod my head.

“Yes, sir,” I say quickly correcting myself, but he lets it slide. If he doesn’t want to hurt me yet, he surely will by the time I’m done messing up.

He takes the tip of the crop and places it at my left forearm, just below the restraints. He slowly runs it down my arm, dragging it over my chest, down my belly, and across my pelvis. The cool leather quickly warms as it glides over my skin. It comes to a stop on my right butt cheek.

I look back at him, as he’s now standing behind my right shoulder, to try to see what he plans to do next until he motions with his head for me to face forward. I feel the crop make tiny circles on my butt through my panties. He lifts it and brings it down again hard, giving me a good smack. I jump, catching my breath in surprise at the tiny zing it gives me.

My nerve endings are awake in the spot I was just hit. I feel the crop as it circles another spot on my behind. He raises it and smacks me hard for a second time. I jump a little as that zing happens again. He hits me twice more before I hear the crop hit the floor. I feel him as he comes up behind me. Sweeping my hair to one side, he leans in close so that his lips are brushing just lightly at my ear.

“Did that hurt?”

His voice is husky, and his breathing is shallow. I know he just enjoyed himself. A feeling of pride rushes through me that I’ve affected him so much.

“No, sir.”

“Were you expecting it to?”

The feel of his warm breath in my ear makes me swallow a little bit too hard as it sends fluttering butterflies right to my groin. I can tell he’s pleased that he is affecting me just as much.

“Yes, sir.”

“Next time, I’ll do that to your bare ass and you’ll like it even more.”

What does he mean like it? I didn’t like it at all.

The thought goes out the window when I feel the tip of his fingers slowly inch up the center of my back. I gasp when he unhooks my bra. The palms of his large hands move to splay across my belly. I try to squirm away as he moves them slowly up my body, but I end up leaning flush against his broad chest. He holds me tighter against him so I’m unable to move. His soft skin contrasts against the hard muscles I feel pressed into my back as he uses them to hold me steady.

“Your safewords,” he demands me to tell him.

“Bunnies and spiders, sir.”

“That’s very fitting,” he says. “Do you need to use them? Just say one and this stops.”

“No, sir,” I answer, allowing him to continue to his destination.

“Remember, it isn’t all about pain,” he says, but I can’t concentrate on his words as he now has my breasts cupped in his hands, kneading them. “I’m more in the mood to pleasure you.” The pads of his thumbs are brushing against my nipples and I can’t believe how sensitive they are. “Is this from fear, Foxy?” he asks me of them as he takes each one in between his thumb and finger to tweak them.

“No, sir,” I whisper.

I look down at my breasts that are still covered by my bra cups. I can see the imprint of his hands working underneath the soft material.

“Tell me,” he demands, his lips still at my ear. “If I were to feel between your legs, would I be pleased to find you wet or disappointed to find you dry?”

“Pleased.”

“Pleased what?” he asks me as he squeezes my