Punish Me, Daddy: Chapter 14

Sloane

I should have kneed him in the nuts, kicked him out, and told him to go to fucking hell.

I didn’t.

Instead of doing any of that, I was kneeling between his legs, his fingers tangled in my hair, and the taste of his pre-cum washing over my tongue.

It was shameful.

Wicked.

And fuck me, I wanted more. More of his hands. More of his words. More of his mouth, his tongue, his cock.

His grip on my hair was firm, but not painful. He guided me as I wrapped my lips around his shaft again, bobbing my head up and down the length of his shaft. He was thick and heavy on my tongue, and when his grip tightened and he groaned, the sound echoed throughout the apartment.

He tasted good.

The smell of his soap and cologne was all around me, making my head swim. The warmth of his skin, the heat radiating off him, it all felt so good.

I never expected this.

To want it.

To need it.

Something about the way he held me down, punished me, forced me to surrender, and the way he touched me after too. Gentle and tender and somehow sort of reverent. Like he understood me the way no one else ever had.

Like he knew me.

Or like he wanted to know me and maybe even keep me. And the thought of that was almost as intoxicating as his hand in my hair and his cock on my tongue.

“You like that, Sloane?”

I hummed around his cock, the vibrations making him grunt and pull harder at my hair.

“Good girl. Now, take it deep. Take every inch, little girl, and swallow my cum. If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll let you come again.”

Fuck.

There was something about the filthy way he talked. It did things to me. Dark, delicious, dirty things.

“That’s right,” he growled. “Show me how much of a little slut you can be.”

He didn’t give me any time to prepare. He thrust his cock down my throat, and he wasn’t gentle. I choked, my eyes watering, but he didn’t let up. His fingers tightened in my hair, holding me in place as he fucked my face.

I tried to relax my throat, letting him slide deeper, but it was hard. He was so big, and his cock filled my mouth so completely, stretching my lips around his girth.

I dug my nails into his thighs and sucked harder, swirling my tongue around the head of his cock, trying to do the best that I could do as he used my mouth as he saw fit.

“Fuck, that’s right,” he groaned. “Just like that, Sloane.”

He fucked my face harder, and I groaned around his cock. My cheeks felt tight, my jaw was sore from being stretched so wide, and my throat ached from the tip of his cock, and I realized at that moment that he wasn’t even close to being done.

My face fucking was just getting started.

I sucked harder, desperate to please him, and he rewarded me with another low groan.

“Oh, fuck, that’s right. You like that, don’t you? You like being used. You’re a dirty little girl who likes having her throat fucked, aren’t you?”

The indecency in his words sent a shudder down my spine, and I moaned around him, making me grip a bit harder on his thighs.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth and come down your throat,” he growled. “And you’re going to swallow every drop, aren’t you?”

Another groan, this one louder and more animal than human, and his hips were bucking, his fingers were twisting in my hair, and he was fucking my face like a man possessed.

My eyes watered, my vision blurred, and I tried to breathe, but he was relentless, driving his cock into my mouth with a single-minded intensity that took my breath away. My knees ached, and I could still feel the heat blooming across my ass from the spanking, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was him, and the way he felt, tasted, and sounded.

It was like music, a symphony, and I was lost in it.

I sucked his cock to the best of my ability, but he didn’t stop face fucking me and using my mouth and it was hard to breathe. My chest burned, my eyes stung, and I felt dizzy, but I didn’t want it to stop.

It was exhilarating, being used like this, and knowing that it was all for him. I glanced up at him, and the look on his face sent a shiver down my spine. His jaw was tight, his eyes were dark, and he looked dangerous and beautiful and powerful, and I was sure I had never seen anything more erotic in my entire life.

He groaned and his grip on my hair tightened. Then he pulled his cock free from my lips and smacked my cheek with it.

I gasped.

“Open your mouth, Sloane. Stick out your tongue.”

I did.

His cock was hard and hot and glistening with my saliva and it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.

He stroked himself, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Eyes on me,” he growled.

He shoved his cock back in my mouth and I tried to breathe around him, but it was increasingly difficult. He fucked my face faster and harder, and I was a mess, tears streaming down my cheeks, drool dripping from the corners of my lips, and he didn’t let up.

He used me like I was a toy, and it was the hottest thing that had ever happened to me. I felt a flush spreading across my chest and my legs started to tremble.

“Fuck, Sloane, I’m close,” he groaned. “Are you ready for my cum, bad girl?”

I moaned and sucked him harder, desperate to please him.

He let out a guttural growl and his fingers tightened in my hair.

“That’s right,” he urged. “Swallow my cock. Swallow my cum. Swallow every drop, Sloane. That’s a good little slut.”

He thrust his cock deep into my throat and held it there, his legs shaking and his whole body tensing.

“Oh, fuck, Sloane, yes,” he growled.

The first hot spurt of his cum splashed against the back of my throat. I tried to swallow around him, once, then twice, but then he pulled his cock out and I stuck my tongue out, trying to catch the stray droplets of his seed.

I felt it hit my tongue, warm and sticky, and I closed my eyes, savoring the taste of him as it splashed all over the rest of my face. I felt dirty and wrong and used, but somehow, it still felt right.

“Look at me, little girl,” he grunted.

I opened my eyes, and the look on his face was intense. We stared at each other for a long minute, me taking in the planes of his rugged face and the unyielding set of his jaw. I wanted to close my eyes against what I knew he was seeing: me, on my knees before him, defeated, owned, with his cum dripping down my flushed face.

He grabbed my chin, his grasp firm, but not painful, and he leaned down, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Do you know what happens now?”

I gulped.

“Now, I’m going to finish the punishment you earned. You’re going to bend over the counter, and you’re going to thank me for giving you the punishment you deserve. Then, and only then, will I allow you to come. Is that understood?”

My heart pounded in my chest.

I nodded.

He smiled, in an unhurried dangerous sort of way, and my stomach flipped.

“Good girl.”

His fingers were in my hair again, tugging gently.

“On your feet.”

I stood, and he didn’t let go of me. His hand was tangled in my hair, and the other held me upright as I wobbled a bit, my knees unsteady from kneeling for so long.

His eyes raked over me, and I felt them like he was actually reaching out and touching me. My nipples were stiff, my skin was flushed, and my entire body was throbbing with need.

“Bend over,” he ordered. “Show me that pretty little cunt.”

I hesitated, so he gripped my top in his hand and ripped it off over my head.

My pulse raced, and I was suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that I was standing naked in my kitchen with Nikolai Morozov, who had just made me suck his cock, come down my throat, and was now demanding that I bend over so he could see my dripping wet pussy.

It was surreal.

It was crazy.

Yet, here I was.

I took a deep breath and did as I was told.

Slowly, I turned and bent at the waist, leaning against the cool marble of the island, and pushed my ass out.

The air was cool on my overheated flesh, and I could feel the heat of his blue eyes on me. I closed my eyes, imagining his gaze between my legs, and then his fingertips brushed my scalded ass.

Without warning, he used both hands to spread my bottom cheeks wide open. I squeaked in surprise and yet more embarrassment.

“Look at this pretty little asshole,” he murmured, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. “All rosy and puckered and perfect. Have you ever been fucked here, Sloane?”

I gasped.

“No,” I said quickly. “Of course not.”

“Hmmm,” he mused and the way it sounded made me a little nervous.

He spread me open even wider, and then his thumb was rubbing slow, teasing circles around my sensitive rim.

“Nikolai…”

“I bet you’d like it,” he said. “You’re already wet for me. Can you imagine how it would feel, this tight little hole filled with my big, hard cock?”

His words made me shiver.

I’ve never done anything like that. Never even considered it. Yet there was something about the way he said it, the way his voice dropped and his accent got thicker, and the way his finger was pressing harder that was driving me crazy. I tried to ignore it. I tried not to think about the fact that his thick finger was teasing my bottom hole and some deep dark part of me actually liked it.

Fuck.

I was so turned on. I wanted to come.

“Please,” I whispered. “I need⁠—”

“I know what you need, little girl,” he answered, his voice deep and rumbly. “But you’re not getting it until you’ve had your punishment.”

His fingers trailed down the curve of my ass, over the backs of my thighs, and then, without warning, they slipped between my legs, just glancing over my clit.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

“Your pussy is so wet, Sloane. I think you like it when I play with this naughty little asshole…”

His fingers stroked me slowly, teasingly, and I pressed my forehead against the countertop, trying to stay still.

It felt good.

Too good.

I didn’t want him to stop.

“Look at me, baby girl,” he ordered, and my heart skipped a beat in my chest. I turned my head and watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a metal object with a bulbous end. I stared at it for a second, trying to place it, before I realized that it was a butt plug, and it wasn’t a small one either.

Oh. Oh, no…

“It’s time to finish the punishment you’ve earned, little girl,” he said.

“I can’t. That’s not—I’ve never⁠—”

“Hush, naughty girl,” he murmured. “You will take it, because you have no choice.”

My eyes widened.

“Now, spread your legs wider.”

I bit my lip.

“Wider,” he commanded, nudging my foot with his polished black shoe.

I obeyed.

“Good girl.”

The cold, metallic tip of the plug slid through my wet folds. He used it to tease my clit, swirling it through my arousal and thoroughly coating the cool metal surface. I couldn’t help it. My hips rocked back against his touch, desperate for more.

“There’s my good little girl,” he crooned.

He slid the tip lower, teasing my entrance and then circling it around and pressing the tip of it gently against my soaking wet pussy.

“Fuck,” I groaned.

He laughed softly and pushed the plug inside of me. I gasped as it stretched me and he pumped it inside of me several times, lulling me into a relaxed state and leaving me hoping that he might leave my asshole for another day.

Another day! What was I thinking? Did I actually want more of this? More of him?

Immediately, as though he sensed my inner turmoil, he pulled the plug free from my pussy and dragged it backwards toward my bottom hole.

“No!” I protested, panic squeezing my throat.

But it was too late.

He was already pushing the plug against my tightly clenched opening, and the pressure was unbearable. I squeezed my eyes shut and bit down on my lip.

It wasn’t going to fit. It wouldn’t. It couldn’t.

“Breathe,” he commanded, and the tone of his voice was gentle, but firm.

I tried to obey, but my body was freaking out, and I couldn’t breathe through it. My asshole clenched around the plug, trying to force it out at the same time he was pushing it in.

He was winning.

Inch by inch, the metal object worked its way inside of me. He didn’t stop until it popped past my tight ring of muscle and sank all the way in, the base nestling firmly between my cheeks. I shrieked and gasped and cried through the whole thing. Sweet agony shot up and down my spine, aching deep in my core as my clit pulsed.

“Such a good girl,” he soothed, stroking his hand along the curve of my backside. “Such a perfect little ass. Look at you, taking it all the way.”

My face burned.

I couldn’t believe I had done it.

I couldn’t believe my virgin asshole was stretched wide for the very first time around a thick bulbous plug. It burned and the only thing I could think of was him replacing the plug with his cock and fucking me deep.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more intense, he reached down and turned it on.

“Oh. My. God!” I tried not to yell the words, my body shuddering.

The vibrations were overwhelming. Every nerve ending was alight with sensation, and I couldn’t focus on anything else. Then he gripped the base of the plug, pulled it out, and started fucking my poor punished asshole with the vibrating torture toy.

“Fuck,” I gasped.

The plug was big and the feeling of being full was so intense, it was almost too much.

My knees buckled, and the counter was the only thing holding me up. His free hand moved between my legs, his fingers finding my clit and rubbing slow, languorous circles around it.

I cried out, but he didn’t stop. He kept fucking my asshole with the pulsating toy and I tried to deal with the pain and the pleasure, and it was devastating.

“Please,” I moaned, begging him.

“What’s that, baby girl?”

“I need⁠—”

“Say it,” he growled, pushing the plug back in and grinding his palm against my clit. “Tell Daddy what you need.”

Daddy?

One word. Soft. Dangerous. A quiet, brutal thing that landed with more force than the spanking. More than the threats. More than anything he had done to me so far.

And it wrecked me.

I froze. My breath caught. Every muscle in my body tensed like he just hit a nerve I didn’t even know I had.

I should have been disgusted. I should have told him to fuck off. Laughed. Rolled my eyes. Threw a punch, maybe.

I didn’t call anyone Daddy. I didn’t need someone to take care of me or correct me or hold me in place. I was the storm. I broke things. I didn’t get kept. But the second he said it—low and possessive and unapologetic—my body betrayed me so fast it was humiliating.

Heat surged between my thighs like my naked flesh remembered something my brain hadn’t caught up to yet. My breath came out shaky. My cheeks got hot, not from shame, but from this twisted, awful, perfect pulse of arousal that rolled right through me.

It was wrong.

And yet…

I wanted to hear him say it again.

Hell, a part of me wanted to say it too.

“That’s right, baby girl,” he coaxed. “Tell Daddy what you need.”

His fingers circled my clit again, and it was almost too much.

“Say it,” he growled. “Say it for me.”

I couldn’t.

I wouldn’t.

His palm cracked against my ass, the sound echoing off the walls as the plug jostled inside of me.

“Say it.”

I shook my head, a sob catching in my throat.

“Fine,” he growled.

His fingers curled around the plug, twisting and pulling, and then, without warning, he spanked my ass right over top of it.

His other hand was rubbing over my clit, driving my head into the clouds and then before I knew what was happening, I was coming, and I was coming really fucking hard.

My entire body convulsed. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t see. All I could do was ride the wave of the most intense orgasm I had ever had. Scalding hot pleasure surged up and down my every limb, making my fingers tingle and my toes curl, lighting up every nerve in my body like a goddamn fireworks show.

When I was finally able to form coherent thoughts again, I pressed my cheek against the cool counter and then his hand was in the middle of my back, holding me in place.

“Such a good little slut,” he murmured. “You came so hard for Daddy, didn’t you? Let me see.”

Before I could protest, his fingers were between my legs, tracing my soaked folds, slipping inside me, exploring, and I couldn’t help but cry out with pleasure.

“You’re so wet, naughty girl. You liked that, didn’t you? You like being punished like a bad little girl.”

Fuck.

I bit back a groan.

“Tell me or Daddy is going to take off his belt,” he warned, his tone turning dangerous.

I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering in my throat.

Take off his belt.

The words echoed through my head, wrapping around my spine like a threat I didn’t know how to process. His tone had changed—deeper, quieter, coiled like something ready to snap. There was no teasing in it. No amusement. Just command.

I believed him.

He would do it. Not for fun. Not for show.

He’d take it off, fold it in his hands, and use it. Not to break me—that’s not what this was—but to truly punish me.

A fresh wave of heat flooded through me, sharp and unwelcome. My thighs clenched, my eyes still squeezed shut. The burn from the last strike still pulsed heavy and deep, aching with a sharpness that bordered on unbearable—especially over the plug still stretching me open, keeping me exposed in the most vulnerable sort of way.

I shouldn’t like this.

But the thought of that belt—the leather snapping across already burning skin, the heavy whoosh of it through the air before it landed—terrified me.

And it turned me on in a way that made me hate myself.

I couldn’t take that. I knew I couldn’t.

Yet a part of me was curious…

He slapped my ass again right over the plug, and a cry tore from my throat before I could stop it. My whole body jerked forward, thighs trembling.

“I asked you a question,” he scolded, voice calm and serious.

I wanted to stay defiant. I wanted to stay strong, but I was unraveling too fast, and the belt was the line I couldn’t cross. Not yet. Not tonight. Not when I was already drowning in sensation and shame.

“Yes,” I whispered, voice breaking on the single syllable. My face burned. My pride ached. “I… I liked it.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and I felt the silence stretch out like a hand reaching for my throat.

So I gave him what I knew he was waiting for.

The word I had sworn I’d never say.

The word that now lived somewhere between fear and craving on my tongue.

“Please, Daddy… don’t take off your belt.”

I felt him still behind me.

I knew, the second those words left my mouth, I’d just given him everything. He’d won.

Thrumming silence stretched.

Thick. Heavy. Hot.

It was the kind of quiet that said more than words ever could, the kind that wrapped around your lungs and squeezed until you weren’t sure if you were trembling from fear or anticipation or both. I could feel him standing there behind me. Still. Focused. I could practically feel the weight of his satisfaction pressing into the room like gravity.

Because I’d said it.

I had given him what he wanted.

“Good girl,” he praised, finally, and the words melted through me like molten metal.

Soft. Lethal. Earned.

For one wild second, I wanted to cry.

Not because of the pain—though it lingered, a deep, pulsing ache—but because he was looking at me differently now. Not because of sadness either, but because I felt like I’d been claimed. That the wall I’d built around myself was no longer a fortress, just a ruin he walked through without even a smidge of resistance.

I couldn’t look back at him. I just couldn’t.

“Since you’re finally showing me that you can be a good girl,” he murmured, voice dangerously calm, “I think it’s time we see how well you really behave for Daddy.”

He moved behind me. My ears strained and I picked up on the sound of his hand pressing into his pocket. I heard a sound I dreaded to identify, the flex of plastic squeezed and a slurp.

My stomach dropped—a flutter of nerves, heat, and fear, tangled so tight I didn’t know where one ended and the other began.

I felt his hand ghost over my hip.

Then it drifted lower.

“Daddy,” I whimpered, and it was half protest, half plea.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he pulled out the plug inside of me and replaced it with a much larger one, this time slickened with the lube I’d heard dispensed a moment ago. He pushed the much thicker toy inside my ass, forcing it inside me and spreading my poor hole far too wide. I tried to stay quiet, but I couldn’t help the piteous cry that escaped me. It was too much. Too big. It hurt so much.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispered, running his hands along my sides, soothing the tremors. “Relax. Take it. Daddy’s not taking it out until you’re a very sore and sorry little girl.”

Fuck.

This couldn’t be happening.

How could this be happening?

“Look at you, stretched so wide,” he crooned, as he pulled my ass cheeks wide open so he could just look.

He grasped the base of the plug, pushed it deeper, and I cried out as my thighs trembled from the pain.

“Does that hurt, little girl?”

“Yes,” I whispered hoarsely.

“Good.”

He let go of the plug, leaving me impaled, and reached between my legs, finding my clit again. He circled his fingers over the sensitive bundle of nerves, teasing me, taunting me, and then he pulled his hand away.

I cried out through the pleasure/pain, trying to take what he was giving me and feeling very sorry for myself, all while I was the most turned on I’d ever been in my life.

I couldn’t focus.

I couldn’t think.

All I could do was feel.

Feel the thick plug stretching me open. Feel his fingers moving over my clit. Feel the cool air against my pussy, soaked and dripping with arousal.

Without warning, he pressed two fingers inside my pussy.

“Oh, fuck,” I wailed.

My body fought him, and my fingers clamped around the front edge of the counter so much that my knuckles turned white.

“You’re so tight, little girl,” he murmured. “I can barely fit two fingers in there. Are you going to be able to take Daddy’s cock when the time comes?”

The thought of him inside of me like that made my stomach drop.

He pumped his fingers, his palm slapping against the base of the toy, forcing it into a sort of fucking motion, so that I was being reamed in both holes. I quickly became afraid of the orgasm that was waiting in the wings because it was going to be shamefully hard.

“Oh, God,” I moaned, unable to help myself.

He chuckled and kept fucking me with his fingers. He added a third and the stretch was intense, but the pleasure was even more so.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised. “Take Daddy’s fingers in that sweet little cunt.”

Why did that sound so good?

I was close. So fucking close.

My legs started trembling. My chest was heaving. I was so full. So deliciously, torturously full. It hurt and I liked it, and I wanted it to stop and I didn’t want it to stop.

“You’re going to come hard for Daddy, aren’t you, naughty girl?”

He fluttered his fingers, brushing against the sensitive spot inside me, and I shuddered.

“Answer me, little girl,” he demanded.

“Yes,” I hissed.

“Are you going to come with Daddy’s fingers in your needy little cunt?”

“Yes, Daddy…” I wailed.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

He pressed his fingers deeper, his palm rubbing against the plug, and that was all it took.

My knees buckled, my back arched, and then I was falling apart for him. Again.

The orgasm was incredible and overwhelming, and I swore the edges of my vision started to darken. My body trembled and shook, and the only thing holding me up was his arms wrapped around me and the counter beneath me. Bright white light stuttered before my eyes and every nerve fired on overdrive. All I could do was moan and shake and come so hard that the world tilted.

It was intense.

Erotic.

Pure fucking perfection.

When it was over, my knees were weak, and my arms felt like jelly, like they didn’t belong to me anymore. I was wrung out, skin burning, nerves buzzing, and all I wanted to do was melt to the floor or maybe curl up in his lap and let him stroke my hair, and whisper in that low, rough voice that I was his good girl after all.

But then his hand was in my hair again, fisting it at the base of my neck, and then he was dragging me upright.

I whimpered; not in protest, not really, more because I didn’t have anything left to give him. I was too exhausted to fight him, too dazed to pretend I was not his to move wherever he wanted me.

“Daddy—”

“Hush, baby girl,” he said sternly, leaving no room for argument.

My heart lurched again.

He was still in charge. Of course he was.

He led me through the living room like I was weightless, like I wasn’t bare and aching and red-assed from the spanking he gave me. I could feel the sting still lingering with every step, a reminder with every sway of my hips that I’d been thoroughly, completely punished. There was also the much larger plug still seated in my very sore little bottom hole, adding to the humiliating burn.

There was no time to focus on how sore I was because my stomach flipped when I realize where we’re headed.

The front door.

My pulse spiked.

He wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t take me outside like this—bare, humiliated, with his seed still drying on my face. Would he?

Shame flooded me, fast and sharp, twisting through the soft haze of arousal still lingering in my limbs. I tried to dig in my heels, but my legs were too wobbly, and he didn’t even notice.

“Daddy,” I breathed again, panicked now and trying to appeal to whatever side I could, “I’m not dressed⁠—”

“I know,” he answered, not slowing, not turning, not caring. “You won’t need clothes where we’re going.”

That did something awful and hot to my core, even as the shame twisted even tighter.

The hallway was quiet. Too quiet. I wanted to die of humiliation with every step, certain someone was going to walk out of a neighboring unit and catch a glimpse of me like this: limp, bare, completely and utterly owned. But no one did. Of course they didn’t.

He’d planned this.

He pressed a code into the elevator at the far end of the hall. It wasn’t one I’d ever used because I thought it was only for the penthouse unit at the top of the building. It hummed to life, and when it opened, he pulled me in with him.

I could barely hold myself upright and I counted myself a little bit lucky that he was strong enough for us both.

The ride was smooth and fast, taking us up higher than I’ve ever been in the building, past anything I thought was accessible to the public.

The elevator doors slid open to a private rooftop.

There was a sleek, matte-black helicopter, already powered, blades whirring in slow, dangerous rotations—waiting.

Waiting for him.

And now… for me.

My mouth fell open.

He was going to take me somewhere.

He gripped my jaw gently, forcing my gaze up to meet his.

“You want to play in my world?” he murmured. “Then you’ll learn what it means to be a part of it.”

I should have said no.

I should have resisted.