Trained By Daddy by Ava Sinclair
Chapter Seven
Lila
I feellike I’m in a dream, only I can’t tell if it’s a dream come true or my worst nightmare.
Gabe has led me to the sofa, the words he spoke still hanging in the air that feels close and cloying.
They get spanked.
Oh, god yes. But not like this. In my fantasies, the settings are always perfect. In my fantasies, I’m in control of my emotions. In my fantasies, I’m ready.
I’m not ready. I’m unnerved, unbalanced, off-center. Gabe has seen my story. He has seen my filthiest thoughts in black and white. It would have been so much simpler if he’d been repulsed. The decision would have been made for me. He wasn’t repulsed, though. He was turned on. I can see it in his eyes. Oh, fuck. I can see it in the front of his pants. He’s aroused and isn’t even trying to hide it.
His confidence is terrifying. He’s terrifying.
“I’m not going to tolerate you putting yourself down like that, Lila. Do you understand?”
“Stop.” The knot of fear in my stomach shatters into a million little shards of panic. I turn and grab my laptop bag off the desk. “I can’t do this. Please. Just forget you met me, okay?”
“Why?”
My hand is on the doorknob. I’m so close to being away from him, from this situation, but then he says something that stops me.
“You owe it to me, don’t you think? You’ve been writing about me. Thinking about me. Fantasizing about me.” I hear him walk up behind me but can’t make myself turn back to him. “If you want me, if you know I’m the man who can give you what you need, that I want to give you what you need…why are you leaving?”
He’s right. I owe him an answer. I take my hand off the doorknob and force myself to face him. God, he’s so handsome. And the way he’s looking at me – intense. I’ve never had a man look at me like this before.
“I’m afraid,” I say. “There have been other men. I’ve tried being submissive. I was never good enough. Writing is a way to have what I want without…”
“…the risk?”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. A sexy daddy and insightful. He’s perfect. Too perfect.
“Lila, has it ever occurred to you that you are fine and that it was those men who weren’t good enough?”
He reaches down and takes the laptop away from me.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he puts the laptop back down on the desk.
“I’m kidnapping a little girl. You’re not leaving. You’re staying. With me.”
“What?” I begin, but that’s as far as I get because Gabe’s arms are around me and he’s pulling me to him for a kiss. And sweet Jesus, what a kiss it is. It’s a deep kiss, a commanding kiss, the kind of kiss that weakens my knees and floods my panties.
I’ve lost any desire to demure in the cage of his strong arms. I have no choice but to return his affection; my body demands it. The feel of him against me is too delicious. He’s so big, so tall. I feel dwarfed by him, tiny. I move my hands up his chest, my palms moving over the front of his tight shirt.
“To hell with a trial gym membership,” he says when our lips part. “I’m giving you a trial Daddy membership. It’s non-negotiable, you got it?” The firmness of his tone sends a shudder through my body.
So many responses run through my head. No. This is crazy. We don’t even know each other outside the gym. You aren’t really kidnapping me, right?
I don’t say any of those things, though. My body is answering for me. My pussy is throbbing. My nipples harden to aching tightness. I feel myself nod my head and when the words come, they do so naturally, in a rush of breath.
“Yes, sir.”
I’m rewarded with a slow, sexy smile. A genuine smile. I’m still trying to process what is happening. Gabe wants me. This extraordinary man wants ordinary me! I can see it in his eyes. Lust. He wants me. He wants to have me the way I’ve always dreamed a man would have me. I resist the urge to pinch myself.
“Did you mean what you said just now?” I ask. I swallow nervously. “Would you really…” I’ve written the word thousands of times. But now I can’t bring myself to say it. It stays lodged in my kiss-bruised mouth.
“Would I really spank you?” He arches an eyebrow, as if it’s a silly question. “Damn right I would. I’d spank you for being bad – for being mean to yourself, or for any other habit you wanted me to help you break.”
“And when I’m good?” There’s an edge of flirtation to my words. The little girl who’s been hiding inside me is starting to peek out.
“Oh, I’d spank you for being good, too.”
“That would be a first. I’ve never had a guy spank me for being good.”
He looks around. “Empty gym. Nobody here except you and me.” Gabe looks back at me. “I should tan your ass for calling me a liar. You deserve it. But instead, how about I be the first one to give you the good girl spanking you also deserve? You’ve been very brave today, Lila. You deserve to feel good. You deserve to squirm and moan like the women in your books. You deserve every delicious thing you wrote in those stories, and if I could be your real-life Daddy, I’d feel honored.”
Slow down, my brain says.
Shut up, my body answers.
I nearly come from his words alone. He’s gentle as he reaches for me, but his grip is firm as he guides me back to the sofa against the wall. I’m looking down at his lap. He has thick, muscular thighs. His lap is wide, the arms guiding me over it strong.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been put over a man’s knee, but it’s the first time I’ve done so under such a strong cocktail of fear and excitement. I shudder when I feel the weight of Gabe’s huge, hard hand on the crest of my bottom. He begins to rub and squeeze my ass, first one cheek and then the other. I whimper, wanting more.
But when I start to get more, panic overtakes me. Gabe is reaching for the hem of my sundress and my hand flies back to stop him. Touching my ass is one thing. But seeing it? The old demons of insecurity rush in as I imagine him having second thoughts when he surveys the dimpled skin of my thighs and a backside with more ripple than bounce.
“No. Don’t stop me, little girl.” His deep words wash over me as he gently takes hold of my wrist. I squeeze my eyes shut tight as he skims the hem of my sundress up over my bottom. The cool air of the room raises gooseflesh on my skin. I try to recall what panties I’m wearing and flush as I remember. They’re my Minnie Mouse panties, the ones I was delighted to find in adult size. They’re polka dot, with little red bows on the waistband.
“Perfect,” he says. “So damn perfect.”
I glance back to see him staring down at my ass. I can feel his rising erection pressing into my belly. My body responds, as his excitement feeds mine. I’m warmed by his approval, but the real heat is between my legs, centered in my wet, clenching pussy.
“Ooooh…” I moan as his hand slides down to cup the lower portion of my buttock exposed where the panties have ridden up. Gabe squeezes, then squeezes harder. The third squeeze borders on painful, the added sensation sending erotic sparks coursing through me.
“You have the most spankable ass I’ve ever seen,” he says. “I think I could spank this ass all day, but I don’t want to leave you too sore the first time. Today I’m going to spank you just enough to make you want to call me Daddy.”
Oh, God. I can’t move. I can’t speak. His words wrap themselves around me as tightly as his corded arms, holding me in place. I feel delicious rushes of pleasure between my legs. It’s the first time I’ve ever come on words alone.
Gabe shifts, and from my peripheral vision I see his hand move back. It descends to land a stinging slap on my right buttock and stays to rub the sweet burn into my skin. The first spank is followed by another, then another. This man knows what he’s doing.
The fourth spank is harder, eliciting a little cry from me. The imprint left in its wake throbs with pain, sinking me deeper into a place of submission. Gabe relaxes his grip, inviting me to hold still on my own. This is my time to show him what a good girl I can be. Any insecurities I brought into this room vanish as I’m swept up in the sensations. I arch my back, pushing my ass up in supplication, in trust. Another spank lands on the opposite buttock, this one the most painful. I cry out, tears springing to my eyes.
It’s starting to hurt, really hurt. I’m having a hard time holding still. Does he know how hard he’s spanking? Does he remember he promised this wasn’t punishment? I’m on the threshold of really crying when he lifts his knee to push me forward, causing my legs to fall slightly part. Gabe’s fingers slide between my thighs to stroke my pussy through the soaked fabric of my panties. His touch his feather light, but the effect is powerful. The intense pleasure melds with the pain, rocking me to the core.
“I’m going to take these cute little panties down now.”
He slips his hand into the waistband but doesn’t move. I realize he’s asking for consent without asking. He’s waiting for me to acknowledge the statement.
“Okay,” I say, surprised at how small and high my voice sounds. I sound like a little girl. I feel like a little girl draped over Daddy’s lap. Only I’m a grown-up little girl. Beneath my innocence is the raw, feral lust his dominance has awakened.
Gabe doesn’t just take my panties down. He takes them all the way off, leaning to the side so he can pull them over my feet. My sandals are already on the floor; I kicked them off when he was spanking me. He takes the panties and puts them on the sofa inches from my face so I can see how soaked they are. I can smell my own arousal, sweet and musky, clinging to the fabric.
I glance back again. He’s spreading my legs, staring between them. My mind flashes back to the day he took my body fat measurement. I felt so exposed. This is the same feeling, but the shame now is decadent. He’s taking a more intimate assessment now as he gauges my arousal.
“So fucking wet,” he says, as his finger slides into my slit, gliding over the swollen, slippery folds of my inner labia. He strokes my pussy like a kitten, and I arch my back like a cat in heat, my hands clutching the couch cushions as I ride the waves of building pleasure.
He pushes a thick finger into me. Then another. Gabe finger fucks me as I arch wantonly against his hand. His other hand moves to my ass, squeezing where he spanked the hardest. The pleasure collides with pain just as he finds my clit, rubbing and pinching in the very moment that I reach a shattering orgasm.
“Oh, oh, oh…”
“Oh, what?” I hear his voice over my moans. I know what he wants. Saying it makes me come even harder.
“Oh, Daddy.”
