🔞🔞 My daddy deserves a very special reward.
Almost every day for the past fortnight, he's worked long shifts at the fire station, sometimes on-call, sometimes on-duty, and it's starting to wear on him. I can tell.
On top of that, my bitch of a mom has been sniping at him more than usual, to the point where she's picking fights with him even more than with me - something that's never happened. I know for a fact Daddy hasn't fucked her - or even kissed her - since he took my virginity all those months ago, but even so, sheer horniness isn't a good excuse for acting like such a cow. I've noticed the way she smiles at her phone, though, and know for a fact she's spending those long nights "at work" with someone else; I'd tried to phone her office one night, and the receptionist had told me my mom had left hours ago.
I mean, if she's cheating on Daddy, that's good news for me - with some luck, she'll pack up and leave the two of us alone for good.
But I know it would hurt my dad's pride, even though he doesn't care for my mom, so I'm concocting a plan to make some of his stress melt away.
I know I'm a slut for Daddy's cock. I know I'm very easy when it comes to him - he can take me anywhere, anyway, anytime, and I'll never put up a fight or complain. I'm constantly wet for him, always ready for him to use.
And while I know he loves that - loves me - I also see the fire in his eyes sometimes, when I resist him at first, when I whine and beg, when tears spill onto my cheeks out of sheer pleasure. It might make me a masochist, but I like when Daddy is extra rough with me. I like putting up a fight, like pushing him to the edge of his control.
And I know he likes it, too.
Even as my parents fight - well, my mom bitches and my daddy clenches his jaw with every insult she throws at him - the details of my plan are forming in my mind.
"- get me started on her, either," my mom sneers, pointing at me, where I'm curled up on the sofa trying to read. "It's because of her I'm in this shitty job in the first place! If I hadn't had to take maternity leave, I would be running the fucking company, not stuck in this dead-end role! Ungrateful brat, she wouldn't know a hard days' work if it hit her in the face. Too busy slutting herself up to--"
"That's enough." Daddy's voice is quiet, but it's deadly serious, sharp as a blade. He moves to stand in front of me, blocking me from my mom's view. My heart flutters in my chest at him coming to my rescue, like my knight in shining armor.
"What did you just say?" my mom demands.
"I said, that's enough. Say whatever you want to me, but if you insult my little girl like that, we're going to have a problem." When I glance up, his back is taut, the ropes of muscles in his shoulders pulled tight and broad. "And if I ever hear you refer to her as a 'slut' again, I will make you pay."
I've never heard Daddy speak like this, especially not to my mom. He's generally pretty easy-going - aside from when he's fucking me into the mattress, of course. But I don't think I've ever heard him this angry, to the point where he sounds nearly feral with rage.
It really, really shouldn't have my pussy clenching and flooding with wetness, but something about an angry Daddy is so hot.
"You ... you can't...!" my mom splutters, evidently as shocked as me. She quickly pulls herself together and her face twists into an unattractive curl. "Fine. You two do whatever the hell you want. If you need me, I'll be sleeping at a friend's place tonight."
Within five minutes, she has a bag packed and her car is gunning out of the driveway.
I allow myself a little grin of triumph.
This plan is going to be all too easy.
"I'm sorry, baby girl," Daddy says to me, crouching to pet my hair soothingly. "I didn't want you to have to hear that."
I want to tell him to just divorce her whiny ass. I want to cuddle and pamper him, to gently make love to him and show him how special he really is. I want to make him forget all about these petty fights, and just focus on me for a while.
But I can see how hard he's clenching his fists, the furious set of his brow, the strain of his neck. Yeah, Daddy is definitely in need of a different form of stress-release.
"C'mon, angel. Let's go to bed."
Any other time, I would jump into his strong arms at those words and let him carry me upstairs, lay me out, and let him do whatever he wants to me. Maybe I would ride him, suck his cock, take a bit of that control away.
But not tonight.
"No," I huff, huddling into the corner of the sofa, away from his hands.
His eyes widen. I don't think I've said 'no' like that to my daddy in about ten years.
"No?" he asks, forcibly calm.
"No. I want to stay here." It's a lie, but I pout it out so firmly that it certainly sounds like truth.
Daddy takes a deep breath. "Sweetheart, it's late. We don't have to go to sleep right away, if you're not tired. We can have fun, but only in the bed. You can't stay down here."
I do something I haven't done in a long time:
I throw a tantrum.
My book flies across the room and hits the lamp in the corner, only baring missing a photo frame of my daddy and I at the beach. I cross my arms and bare my teeth up at my daddy, despite every fibre of my being demanding that I give in and grovel at my bad behavior.
My heart is now thumping against my ribcage, my blood rushing in my ears. I hate to admit it, but this feels kind of good.
"What are you doing, baby?" Daddy growls down at me, now standing at his full height and towering over my frail form. The flint in his eye tells me he's right on the knife's edge. "Daddy doesn't want to play games right now. Daddy wants you to get off your cute little ass, and go to bed."
This is it.
This is the turning point.
I frown up at him, still pouting, still hot and bothered all over.
And then, I say the magic words:
"Make me, Daddy."
With a snarl of fury and a flash of movement, he scoops me off the sofa and throws me over his shoulder, all of that fireman strength on full display. I cry out and thrash in his hold, beating against his lower back with my puny fists.
"No!" I squeal. "I want to stay downstairs! You can't make me, I said no!"
If he's caught onto my aim here, he doesn't show it. One of those huge, calloused hands spanks my ass mercilessly over my leggings as we ascend the stairs to my bedroom. Once we're through my door, he throws me onto the bed and immediately flips me over, manhandling me roughly enough to have my whole body shuddering with pleasure.
Daddy doesn't waste time with words - his hands grab at the waistline of my leggings and rip them apart, all the way down my ass and crotch, until they're hanging off my legs in tatters. I let out a cry of protest, but it only earns me another hard spank on my left ass cheek.
"You'd better change that tone real quick, sweetheart. Daddy's not in a nice mood tonight." Under the threat in his tone, I can hear a genuine warning, as though he's concerned about truly hurting me.
I look over my shoulder and smile at him, breaking character for just a moment.
"I don't want you to be nice, Daddy. Didn't you hear? I'm a slutty brat. Maybe you should teach me how to respect the man of the house, hm?" I tease, wiggling my panty-clad ass at him.
When he spanks me again, it's less brutal and more a reprimand. "If we start this, baby, I'm not gonna stop easily. I'm not gonna be sweet. I'm gonna use you like a fuckdoll, and I won't let up, even if you beg." A hand trails over my ass, up my spine, shedding me of my t-shirt and gripping the nape of my neck in warning. "Do you hear me, sweetheart?"
"Yes, Daddy," I gasp, arching into his touch.
"I might say nasty things, baby, but I don't mean them. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"You need Daddy to stop for real, you just say my name. Unless you that, I won't even slow down. I hope you know what you're asking for, little one." His voice is less than human now. Every word has my cunt throbbing, as though he's growling them directly onto my slit.
I turn to face him, even more turned on when I realize I'm only in my panties and he's still fully dressed.
I want to kiss him, to serve him as I always do - with love and tenderness and trust.
