Authors: Emily Tilton
“Yes, daddy,” she replied in a sobbing voice, that told Ross that the humiliation of having her bottom rubbed that way was working just as effectively as a means of discipline as the spanking he would now give.
“I’m going to spank you until I think your bottom is red enough,” he said. “So there’s no use counting the spanks. A daddy like me knows what a girl sounds like when she’s had enough.”
“Yes, daddy,” Victoria said with the penitent tone growing even more noticeable in her voice, though the sound was muffled by the ragdoll she now clutched even tighter.
Then Ross started to spank her. He spanked harder as he went, landing the blows in his familiar pattern: center, right, left, and then down upon the thighs, right and left. When Victoria started to struggle against him and kick her legs out, he gripped her tightly around her waist with his left arm and spanked harder, until she screamed into her doll, “Please stop, daddy! Please stop. I’ve learned my lesson!”
Ross looked at the color of her bottom, felt the way she struggled, and kept spanking. Finally her entire backside was crimson and Victoria was sobbing into the doll and the comforter. Her struggles had ceased. Ross stopped spanking her, and began to rub her punished cheeks gently again.
“Shh, darlin’, shh. It’s over. You were a good girl for your spanking.”
Then he raised her up gently off his thigh and gathered her, still clutching the doll against her face, into his chest, lifting her up so that she sat on his lap with her blazing red backside hanging off his right thigh, so that he could keep rubbing her there to take some of the sting away.
“I’m very proud of you, young lady,” he said.
“Really?” Victoria asked.
“Yup,” Ross replied. “You took your punishment very well.”
She lifted her face from the ragdoll for the first time and looked into his eyes. Her own shone brightly with tears, but she said, “Thank you, daddy.”
Then, to Victoria’s surprise, Ross said, “Do you want to pick out a book for me to read to you, darlin’? I’m going to put you to bed now so you can get up bright and early. I want to teach you some of the real chores—with the horses.”
“Oh, daddy!” The words just burst out of her—for the first time it didn’t feel funny, even the slightest bit, to call Ross ‘daddy.’ And she also didn’t know which part made her happier—the thought of the story or the anticipation of the chores with the horses.
What had happened in the scant time since he had announced to her the humiliating punishment for being rude to Kelly Stovall? Suddenly being little felt like something she had waited for since… since becoming big. To know that this handsome, older cowboy had made her take off all her clothes, had shaved her between her legs, had bathed her and soaped her pussy until she had nearly cried out with her need to come—that all seemed now strangely normal. Victoria didn’t want to know
she wanted to be his little lady—she just… wanted it. It just made her feel good, and she didn’t plan on questioning that for a while. Sitting naked in his lap with a well-punished bottom and his strong arms around her just felt too wonderful.
“Nice surprise, darlin’?”
Victoria nodded shyly. “Can I put on a nightshirt?” Being bare had its attractions, yes, but part of the charm of bareness was that little ladies knew they should cover up their special places as soon as their daddies allowed it.
“Yes, you may, young lady. Why don’t you do that, and pick a story from the shelf in the hutch, and I’ll be back in a jiff to tuck you in and read you the story?”
Ross stood her up and rose from the pink bed. Then he gave her a hug that felt like a real bear had wrapped her in its arms, and kissed the top of her head. To her surprise, and a little to her embarrassment, Victoria made a little cooing sound and snuggled her head, and her dolly, in closer to the flannel that covered his strong chest, that smelled of stables and big men who know how to teach a girl to be a little lady again.
When he returned five minutes later, Victoria was in her blue nightshirt, with no panties, under the covers. In her outstretched hands she held
The Black Stallion
. “Just one chapter, daddy?” she asked.
“They’re long chapters, darlin’,” Ross said with a smile, “but I love that book myself. Alright.”
So Victoria’s new daddy sat on the edge of her bed and opened the book. Victoria curled up under the covers and gazed up at him, while he began to tell her the story of Alec and the Black. She knew she was probably imagining that her new daddy sounded like he really knew what he was talking about when he read the technical bits about horses and riding, but still she couldn’t escape the impression that a girl never had a better narrator for a horse book.
And so handsome, too. His close-cropped dark hair seemed to set off the angles in his face as he read by the light from the lamp on the little white nightstand behind him. Victoria found that without thinking about it at all, she had worked her hand between her thighs. Ross had just read a part about the Arabs putting the raging horse aboard the doomed ship, when Victoria felt her bareness there and said, “Oh!”
“I… I guess I kind of forgot… how bare I am down there.”
Ross chuckled, looking down at where Victoria’s hand, between her legs, made an obvious little tent in the covers. “You’re not touchin’ yourself down there now, little lady, are you?”
“Um… no, daddy?”
He smiled. “Does a little lady touch herself in her special place?”
“That’s right. It’s your daddy’s job to make sure you don’t do anything immodest. I don’t want to have to spank you for playin’ with yourself, now.”
Victoria didn’t know why, but now her pussy felt like it had caught fire, at the thought that her new daddy wouldn’t let her masturbate. She guiltily moved her hand away, back up out of the covers in front of her. But if she wasn’t allowed to play with herself, how could she ever get relief? Her new daddy’s treatment of her this evening, from the baring to the spanking to the bedtime story, suddenly all came together to make her feel the greatest need for sex she thought she’d ever felt.
Ross turned back to the book, looking for his place, but Victoria said, “Daddy?”
“What if I have that funny feeling in my special place?”
Ross turned back to her with a smile. “Gonna give you a serious answer here, Victoria, and then I’m gonna give you an ageplay answer, okay?”
Victoria didn’t completely understand, but she thought she got the gist of it. “Um, okay.”
“Alright, serious answer is that I know your body is your own property. If, after I put you to bed here, you want to masturbate, well, I guess I’d be kinda flattered.”
His smile broadened, and Victoria couldn’t suppress a giggle.
“I certainly wouldn’t do anything crazy like bustin’ in here to give you a whuppin’. But right now we’re playin’. I’m your strict daddy and you’re my little lady. So… if you decided to play with yourself now, I’d take it as a sign that that’s how you wanted to play, and I’d give you another trip across my knee.”
Victoria felt her brow furrow. “But… wasn’t it real discipline, when you… did that stuff earlier?”
Ross chuckled. “Yes, but it was also ageplay. I know how strange that seems, if you haven’t done it before, but I’m hopin’ it’ll be helpful for you in the end to feel like when you and I have to talk about ways that you’re not comin’ up to my standards, the way we communicate is for me to help you learn what it means to be a good girl.”
Still frowning with the effort of trying to figure it out, Victoria nodded. At least, as Ross finished up the chapter of the book, she had something on which to concentrate that didn’t involve her soaking pussy quite so much.
And when he kissed the top of her head again, tucked her in, and turned out the light, she lay in the darkness and almost kept from touching herself in the special place that he had bared, to play with her. Almost.
And when she did give in and move her fingertips in her special place, because the need came upon her so greatly, all she could think about was how Ross touched her there—how chastely, and yet how caringly. She wanted him to touch her very differently, now: in her imagination, she heard him open the door quietly, come into her room, and say, “Little lady, what are you doin’?”
Then, instead of giving her a whuppin’, he would murmur, “Your daddy’s gonna do that for you now,” and take her hand away, so that he could put his own hand there. Then he would tell her not to be scared, but he was going to show her something.
His cock… her daddy’s cock… he told her what he would do with it, and then he did it.
With a cry that she tried desperately to stifle with her left forearm flung across her face, Victoria came, feeling obscurely that she wished she had managed to obey her daddy and to be a little lady who didn’t touch her special place but waited for her daddy to touch it, because he might want to do that someday, mightn’t he?
* * *
True to his word, the next morning, after Victoria had cooked a big breakfast of flapjacks and bacon, Ross told her to get dressed for barn work. She put on her jeans—not the skinny ones in which she had arrived, but the ones she thought of as the ranch jeans, that she’d bought on the way, and a heavy sweatshirt, because the chill of late fall was biting in the mornings now.
Looking her up and down with a twinkle in his eye, Ross said, “I should warn you, darlin’, that the price of makin’ mistakes in your chores is that I put you in clothin’ suitable for a little lady.”
“What?” What could he possibly mean?
“I’ll show you later… since I know you’ll make a mistake.”
“Daddy!” she exclaimed.
“Shh, darlin’.” The way that man said “Shh.” Victoria thought, with a little rush of heat, of her super-naughty fantasy the night before.
“But what do you mean?”
“You’ll see,” Ross said. “And if you want to take a spankin’ instead, you can do that.”
“Oh. Um, okay.”
Mystified, she followed him out into the cold morning air. Surely he didn’t mean what she had seen in the top drawer of the dresser? A hot blush spread across her face at that thought.
At the time, when she had forgotten which part of the bridle to attach the crosstie to, Ross just said. “That’s okay, darlin’, because now you get to see what I mean by suitable clothin’.” She had blushed again, thinking of the top drawer, and then she had made many more little mistakes. Ross was so patient with her, though, that she knew he didn’t really mean to punish her. And then he actually gave her the first riding lesson she’d ever had, on his own horse, Sophie, laughing at the way the smile on her face wouldn’t quit.
Afterward, he led her back to the house as she chattered about how much she loved Sophie and how she was so grateful to him for everything. “Come upstairs,” he said.
There he showed her a bedroom that he said his almost-fiancée Sally Mae had used as a dressing and sewing room. There was a wardrobe in the corner, and he went and opened it up. Inside were clothes that immediately explained Ross’ words about suitable clothes, for they were girls’ clothes from a hundred years before and more, all newly made.
“They’re not antiques,” Ross said. “We bought a few, but Sally Mae made most of them. When she left she took most of the things she made, but she gave me the ones in here and said that if I found a girl who should wear them, it would make her very happy.”
“So your break-up…” Victoria ventured. “It was friendly?”
Ross nodded. “Yup.”
“And… well, why?”
“Just wasn’t quite right.”
Victoria nodded. She burned to ask about the top drawer of the dresser, but she didn’t know how.
Ross took one of the dresses out. It looked almost exactly like the ‘half-pint’ red print dress that Laura wore during the titles of the
TV series, when she ran to meet ‘pa.’ Victoria felt herself blushing crimson. It looked very close to her size.
“Alright, darlin’,” Ross said. “It’s this dress or a spankin’.”
Victoria had been sure that nearly anything would be preferable to a spanking, but the thought of having to wear that dress—of being
to wear that dress by her daddy—by Ross MacGregor, handsome cowboy—gave her sudden pause. But… she also knew… didn’t she also…
“Here are your drawers to go under it,” Ross said, and in his other hand he was holding out a strange set of garments that Victoria realized must be early 1900s underwear—drawers and a shirt that looked a little like a nightgown.
She felt her hands making indecisive little fists, and she almost said, “Spank me instead, please,” but… she wanted to see what it felt like. God help her, she wanted to see if she wanted to be a little lady as much as she thought she might want it. She stepped forward, put out her hands, and said, “Thank you, daddy.”
Just then the phone rang. “I’ll go get it,” Ross said, “while you get changed.”
“Ross,” said Jack Riley at the other end of the phone. “How’s it going out there?”
“Just fine,” Ross replied.
“Victoria behaving herself?”
“Can I speak to her?”
“She’s a little busy now, but she should be able to come to the phone in a moment. Can you tell me what’s goin’ on with her situation?”
“Sure, though I’m afraid the news right now is pretty bad. I’ve got a plan, though, and I do need to clear it with both of you.”
“Go ahead.” Victoria came out of the dressing room, looking as adorable as could be. Ross covered the receiver and said “Jack,” quietly. Victoria gave him a look that said, “Why aren’t you just handing the phone to me?” Ross held up a finger and gave her a look in return to say, “Little lady, you’re headed for an appointment with my belt.”
Victoria’s eyes went wide and then she nodded, looking contrite.
At the other end of the phone, Jack was saying, “The evidence Victoria had is gone, but I think we can set a trap for the guy. I think the best place to do that is your ranch.”