His Sassy Girl (Desiring the Forbidden Book 2) (2 page)

“Ahhh!” The sudden burn in her anus made her jump, clenching tightly around his finger. He pumped it in and out slowly, the ring of muscle resisting.

“What is Daddy doing, Sassy?”

She groaned loudly. He did humiliation too well, and it always worked for her. “You stuck your finger in my... little hole.”

“Yes, I did. Why did I do that?” He pumped it into her, the tight muscle burning with every insertion.

“B-because... Ahhh... b-because I was sarcastic and—”

“Sassy?”

She nodded her head.

“So, naughty girls have to remember who’s in charge and when Daddy puts his finger into your bottom, do you remember that you’re to mind your tongue?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He pulled out, her body relaxing despite the burn still present. She heard the implement cabinet open and knew he’d be getting his belt. The buckle jingled as he pulled it out, then he walked back, laying the leather horizontally over her back.

“We’re going to start with a long hand spanking first. I want this to be memorable.” He immediately started slapping her bottom with hard, crisp slaps. “You are
not
allowed to fight. We do
not
use our hand to communicate. You’ve been spanked for this before, haven’t you, Sassy?”

“Not so hard! Yes. Yes.” She found herself saying ‘oh’ or ‘ow’ more and more with every few swats until she began to cry.

“You were warned. Told that if you were spanked or got in trouble with your father that when you got home, Daddy would use his belt on you. Right?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

She tried to wiggle or move to avoid his hand, but the damned strap around her waist had her immobile, just the way he liked her to be. His hand stilled, rubbing in a relaxing and yet very annoying way, upon her sensitive flesh.

“What was it you called Sunni?”

She hesitated — too long, apparently — his hand raining down spanks on her ass so fast that her hands clenched into fists, fighting against the handcuffs to protect her backside.

It’s going to be a long fucking night!

“What makes you think you can decide how long it takes for you to answer a question? When a question is asked, you answer, girl.”

“Yes, Daddy.” She hiccupped, and then continued, “I called her a whore and poor white trash. B-but she called me a slut, too.” She looked over her shoulder, trying to gauge his reaction to that piece of news.

His teeth clenched. He was fiercely protective of his baby girl, and she loved that about him. “Did she get spanked by her Daddy for that?”

“Oh yes. Dreadful.”

“Good! Then it’s my job to spank your ass just as hard. What did your father use on her little butt?”

“He used his belt too.” She hated admitting to that. It guaranteed that he’d be using that next.

She felt like a live wire as she waited for him to pick up the leather strap laying across her back. The ominous weight of the leather was a constant reminder of her comeuppance. Instead, his fingers eased between the lips of her pussy, gliding through the slickness, resting upon her clit, teasing it with his feathery touch. Dylan’s fingers spread her open, and then he lightly blew on her, her sensitive nub of nerves jumping and pulsing so fast that she started to pant, lifting her hips as much as the strap would allow, giving him space to continue.

He pistoned his fingers into her sex, her scent filling the air, the strap preventing her from pushing back onto him. Her arousal pushed her to impale herself on those fingers, the frustration at the restriction making her growl. His rich chuckle rolled over her, her sex clenching. She loved his deep voice, loved lying against his chest, hearing him talk or hum above her.

“C’mon, baby, let’s get your orgasm out of the way, so you don’t go to bed frustrated. I want my Sassy to sleep well tonight.” He increased the rhythm of his thrusts, pumping her hard, her muscles constricting around his finger, sucking on the wonderful intrusion. She pressed her hips into the leather roll, clenching her ass and screaming with her orgasm, milking him, shuddering with every rolling quake that overtook her body.

His fingers lightly stroked her sensitive flesh until she became so oversensitive that she whined for him to stop.

“There. Did you enjoy that, baby?”

“God, yes. Thank you.”

“You are most welcome. But I’m sorry to say that it’s time for this pink ass to be belted, girl.”

She didn’t try to talk him out of it, knowing that it wouldn’t matter if she attempted to plead with him or cajole him. He was implacable when it came to discipline, believing that one only grew when the discipline was consistent, clear, and firm.

She heard him remove the belt, the soft, supple leather, still warm from his body, tapping against her ass. Then he lashed her bottom three times across the same spot, hard and fast. She didn’t have time to think or restrain her reaction, rather she simply shrieked. She swore the pain danced all along her nerve endings, vibrating down her legs.

“Oh, God!”

“Are you ever allowed to instigate a fight? Again, is fighting allowed?” Three more strikes landed just below the first three.

“No, Daddy.” She coughed on a sob, unable to hold it in any longer.

“No. It. Isn’t!” He whipped the underside of her bottom, not stopping on three this time. She lost track of the number of licks he gave her. When the strap finally stilled, her pitiful cries rent the air.

He rubbed her bottom, squeezing her flesh roughly. “Are you going to fight again, Sassy?”

“Ow! Oh, G-god. Please stop rubbing, it hurts. N-no, I won’t fight again. I p-promise. Can we be done, p-please can we be done?”

Dylan paused, long enough that she thought he might relent. “Who decides when punishment is over? Is it you, Sassy?”

She felt like a blubbering child. “N-no!” Her voice broke into heartbroken sobs. It wasn’t her decision. But damn, she wished she could decide — just once.

“Time to reinforce the lesson. These will be to your sit spots and thighs, girl.”

It was always the worst part, and no mental preparation seemed to help. She just took a deep breath and on her exhale; he lashed her thighs and ass — hard. It didn’t last long, thankfully. She heard the belt clatter to the floor and his soothing murmurs above her. He kissed her temples, face, and hair, stroking and caressing her.

Brittney swore she’d never think of fighting again. She’d remember this. But she knew, deep inside, that someone would upset her, and she’d forget. Maybe. Maybe this time she’d remember. Maybe this time his lesson would stick.

“Jesus. I hope you’ve learned this time. I’m not going to be able to use the belt more than I did today. Next time you’ll be switched. Do you hear me?”

“Y-yes, Sir. I won’t do it again, Daddy.”

“I certainly hope so. I hate seeing my girl like this. Let’s get you up and cuddle a bit.”

He undid the strap and handcuffs, helping her off the table. Scooping her up, he held her in his lap as he sat down in the nearby rocking chair. Brittney nestled her nose in his neck. She loved the smell of him, his slow, steady breathing, and the rhythm of his heart calming her. And even though there were days that she wondered why she submitted to all of it, there were also moments such as these that convinced her that this life was for her. The moments of peace that followed a punishment, the one hundred percent assuredness that he cared about her — not just about what she did, but about how she grew and matured as a person.

Her Daddy loved her. He understood her insecurities, her weaknesses, and her foibles. It didn’t mean that he tolerated them all, or that he didn’t help her to try to improve on some of them, but it meant when she failed or did something stupid, she didn’t have to fear that he would leave her or be done with her. He only expected her to try her best to progress, and sometimes that meant he gave her incentive to move in a different direction in the future.

“How’s my baby?” He kissed her forehead.

“I’m okay. My bottom hurts awful.” She felt silly saying it, but knew he wouldn’t care.

“I bet. Daddy wanted you to know he doesn’t like it when you’re fighting.” He ran the back of his knuckles lightly up and down her arm.

“Well... you succeeded. Maybe too well.”

Dylan laughed, squeezing her tightly. “My Sassy. I love you, baby. You know that, right?”

“Yes, I do.” Brittney felt his cock under her — hard, hot, and pulsing. She shifted, rubbing her thigh against the sensitive flesh tenting his pants.

“Sassy? I know what you’re doing. Stop.” He shifted her on his lap. “Besides, I want you on your knees, giving me a blow job.”

Brittney sat up straighter to see if he was joking, but his face was grave. When he quirked an eyebrow at her, she practically leapt off his lap, kneeling as requested. She situated herself between his knees, undoing his belt and zipper, tugging on the sides of his pants and boxers. Dylan lifted his hips slightly to aid her in undressing him, his cock springing free from the constraints of his clothes. With one hand she cupped his balls while the other wrapped around the silky hardness of his shaft, the skin hot against her palm. She leaned forward, circling the bulbous head with her tongue, laving the tip with quick licks.

She drew him into her mouth slowly, pulling on him with suction, chuckling when she heard him suck his breath through his teeth.

“Brat!” He wove his hand through her hair, taking away her ability to control the blow job. Now, he was in control, just as he liked it. He held her head still as he pounded his cock further and further down the back of her throat, pulling out to allow her to catch her breath.

“I’m coming.” He thrust into her again, the warm streams of his semen shooting down her throat. He pulled out and Brittney sucked every last drop out of him before the head popped free of her lips. She licked him clean while his heavy breathing slowly returned to normal. “That was beautiful, Sassy. Thank you.”

He pulled her up from the floor to sit on his lap again. Both were quiet, sorting through the evening in their minds, exhausted from everything that had occurred.

Dylan tilted her chin up. “Your father called me today. He wants us to join him on the Fourth of July for a vacation. Hope you don’t mind, but I agreed for both of us.”

Brittney groaned, resting her forehead against his chest. “Fuck!”

His platter-sized hand slapped her sore ass so hard, tears immediately overflowed from her eyes. “Sassy, you know better. What’s that for?”

“I just... it’ll be so... I’m going to be in trouble all the time with you and my father watching me.” And she meant it. How would she survive a vacation with the two of them? And how would Sunni factor into things?

Daddy burst out laughing. “I think that’s hysterical. It’s not an issue if a certain grown woman — who is definitely my bad little girl — would behave. Is it that hard to follow the rules?”

She didn’t even know how to answer that. “Well, on some days, yes. On other days, most definitely yes.” She shook her head, closing her eyes and muttering, “I’m doomed.”

“You’ll be okay. Daddy will always take care of his Sassy. It’ll be a great vacation, you wait and see.”

Chapter 1

B
rittney had classes at the University of Los Angeles. She was close to finishing up her third year of her teaching program. When Dylan had met her, many of her grades were below her ability, and she had been on the verge of failing an English course. He was no stranger to hard work and challenging classes though, having completed and received his Bachelor’s and Master’s in Architecture and Civil Engineering at the same college Brittney attended.

He appreciated that her father hadn’t given her a free ride to the college of her choice, and that she had been required to work part-time while completing her education. But Brittney found the college life, and going out with friends, much more fun than doing her homework, and her grades reflected it.

Besides handling her sassy mouth and reining it in, he worked on her grades and attendance at school. If left to her own devices, she’d miss at least one class a week. He also knew that she neglected to tell her father that she’d been put on academic warning the previous semester. Dylan understood that she didn’t want to upset her dad — he had heard that the man was pretty strict — but they had agreed that if she didn’t want Dylan calling her Dad for her, then she needed to keep bringing those grades up.

He stared at her as she slept, her body sprawled out face down, stretched diagonally across the mattress, covers strewn to the foot of the bed, her delicious, plump ass beckoning to him. His cock stirred, and he quietly sauntered to her, whispering in her ear, “Time to get up for school, Sassy.”

Brittney’s reaction to be woken up always surprised him, and it shouldn’t have. Brittney turned onto her side, her eyes still closed and swung a fist at him. He grabbed her by the wrist with one hand and slapped her bottom — hard — with the other. “Sassy, you do
not
use your fists.”

Her eyes flew open, glazed over with foggy, half-asleep haze, and both hands cupped her now pink ass.