Finally, she gets it. I’m offering her the holy grail, and she believes I can do it because I’m bigger and scarier than anything or anyone she’s ever known before. In this moment, I’m as powerful as her so-called God. Branwen nods, as much as she can while I’m holding her hair. I let go of her completely—her hair, the arm I have clamped around her hips—and she stays right where she is, splayed across my lap.
“Good girl,” I murmur, slipping a finger into the elastic of her underwear and easing it up to expose her ass, first one cheek, then the other. “Now I can get started.”
I can tell she’s never had anything like this done before. She’s terrified of every smack, her hands clenched on the blankets, but stubbornly refuses to let out even a squeak of pain. I’m gentle at first, slow deliberate smacks, watching her flesh quiver. Then I amp it up, spanking her harder, making it burn, and the heat and pain work their magic on her.
She starts to sob, broken. Pitiful. Giving in to it. “Good girl. Let it all out.”
I don’t know what she’s done but it doesn’t matter to me. Branwen’s melting over my knee and it’s so fucking perfect. I suppose I should feel bad about getting off on this. Her tears. Her pain. But they’re just so beautiful. Especially her tears. There’s just something so perfect about seeing a pretty girl cry. Making her cry. And then kissing it all better again.
“You fucked up, baby, and this is your punishment.” I tell her this as I hit her, harder and harder. But she’s not wriggling now. Her hands are loose on the covers and her tears are a slow trickle. She doesn’t need to say it. I can see the words in every line of her body. Yes, daddy. Sorry, daddy. I deserve whatever you give me, daddy.
Powerful pleasure surges through me. Yes, you fucking do, little girl.
Her thighs have parted and I can see a clinging wet patch over her pussy. I stop spanking her and gaze at her for several minutes, loving the sight of her. I could help her up now, get a cool washcloth from the bathroom, and bathe her face. Tell her she’s a good girl. Tell her she’s forgiven, and then we could both get some rest.
But suddenly, I’m not at all sleepy.
With two gentle fingers, I rub the wet spot on her underwear in circles. She’s so fucking slippery beneath. I imagine it so clearly, sinking three knuckles deep into her pussy and finger-fucking her hard.
“Did you take a vow of chastity too, baby? Did you decide to keep that sweet little pussy all to yourself?”
Her thighs quiver, but for a very different reason than before. I’m slow about it, getting my fingers beneath the elastic of her underwear and rubbing gently through her folds. I can practically feel her pulse beating against my hand. When I find her clit, she almost forgets her vow of silence and moans, before choking it off quickly.
“There’s a good girl,” I whisper, rubbing on her clit, bestowing sweetness now. “You took your punishment so well.”
I watch her as I rub her in firm, fast circles. I’m not giving her a chance to think, only feel. She’s too fucking sweet to be praying and crying all the time, not unless I’m the one making her cry. Even then, she should do it like this, over my knee where I can keep an eye on her. Not alone in the dark, on a cold, stone floor. She’s not made for a nunnery. She’s made for this, to be someone’s sweet little girl he can punish and cherish and turn into a panting, sobbing, sorry puddle of need whenever he likes.
I spread her legs wider and pull her underwear aside so I can get a better look at her. So sweet and pretty and untouched. Mine to do with as I want. It doesn’t take much to make her come, just a few minutes working her clit, never letting up for a second. Telling her what a good girl she’s being. All that heat from the spanking is centered in her core and making her so deliciously sensitive. I want this from her so badly, as much as I want her tears. As she climaxes, I watch her flesh quiver and clench and I find I’m breathing almost as hard as she is.
She’s still and silent after her orgasm. Spent, in the most beautiful way possible. But there’s one more thing I need to do, and I need to do it now, while she’s still vulnerable.
I take my hands away and growl, “Get on your fucking knees.”
She scrambles off my lap and down onto the floor between my parted legs, looking up at me with huge eyes, her lips parted with alarm and her expression tinged with fear again. I could almost come she looks so perfect.
I lean down close to her and say, “You did a bad thing, baby.”
She sucks her lower lip into her mouth, and I see it at last. True repentance. She knows what she did and she’s truly sorry. What a little lamb I’m going to make of her, the perfect tool to bring her father down.
“A bad, bad thing.” I stroke my fingers down her cheek, my touch possessive and benevolent. “But daddy forgives you.”
Branwen
Daddy forgives you.
For five months, I’ve been chasing forgiveness like a dream and never caught up to it. Never felt like I would atone. But now as I look up into Geraint’s face, I can feel it washing over me.
He forgives me.
Tears pool in my eyes as bliss rocks through me. It’s like golden, holy light, bestowed on me by a heavenly creature. Geraint’s fingers are cupping my chin and I angle my head until his fingers brush against my mouth. The two fingers that touched me so lovingly between my legs. I take them into my mouth and suck them, slowly, my eyes locked on his. I curl my tongue around them and rub the pads of his fingers.
I waited for him so long, and he found me. He is my savior. His fingers in my mouth are like the communion wafer, except Geraint doesn’t dissolve away to nothing. I want to stay here forever. I want him to keep doing this to me, punishing me and forgiving me until I really, really believe it, deep in my core. I want him to burn away all my wrongdoings. For him to be bigger, stronger, and more terrifying than everything I’ve done.
I need him to do that for me. I need it so badly.
As he watches me suck his fingers, his eyes darken and his lips part in fascination. Does he like that? A hot, electric feeling rushes through me at the thought that I might be pleasing him. I want him to know how grateful I am. I can’t say the words but I speak them hard with my eyes as I gaze up at him.
Thank you, daddy.