Trained By Her Daddy by Shelly Douglas

Chapter 11

And there it was. The hideous sound no driver ever wants to hear. Steel crushing steel.

With trembling hands, I tossed my cell phone into the backseat of the car. No one needed to know that the accident occurred because of my negligence. No one needed to know I’d been answering a text from my friend, which is why I didn’t see the van pull into my lane.

Now there’s a secret I should take to my grave.

When the uniformed policeman approached my car, every nerve ending in my body began to fray. John would lose his mind if he knew I’d been texting and driving, but more importantly, it was against the law. Naturally, I needed a good story to tell the cop. But what in the hell was I going to tell John?

The truth or a bullshit tale?

While lowering the window with a shaky finger, a solid lie conveniently popped into my brain. I’d tell him I was adjusting the volume on the car stereo and that’s why I didn’t see the van merge into my lane. Simple enough. It could happen to anyone, right?

“Ma’am, we’ll need to get some information about the accident,” the officer drawled in a low Texan monotone as he lowered his sunglasses. “And I’ll need to see your driver’s license and owner’s card.”

“Of course, Officer.” My reply was brief but courteous as I reached into the glovebox to hand him the paperwork, and then with grand theatrics, all the fabricated details leading up to the accident spilled from my lips. Thank God he wasn’t a mind reader, or he would have known the stark truth that was rolling around in the dark recesses of my brain. I totally missed the van merging into my lane because I’d been telling my girlfriend details about John’s delicious dominant personality instead of paying attention to the other drivers on the road.

“Be sure to call your insurance company right away to file the claim. They’ll want to match up their findings with the accident report which I’ll be submitting.”

“This is my boyfriend’s car, but I’ll make the call right away for him,” I answered quickly as my right eye began to inadvertently twitch. “He’s out of town until tomorrow.”

My boyfriend? I had to admit, the idea that John was more than my sensei sounded quite nice.

“Make sure you do it today, ma’am. The insurance companies like to be informed promptly.”

After retrieving all of John’s paperwork and my driver’s license from the policeman, I rolled up the window and heaved a sigh of relief. Thank God that horrific scene was over with. Unfortunately, I’m aware of the long arduous process which goes on following a car crash because that accident wasn’t my first rodeo. Although it would be the first time I’d have to take responsibility where my Daddy is concerned. Growing up, my father never paid much attention to the events in my life, and the few times I was in a car accident, it was always my responsibility to call the insurance company in order to file the claim. Then, after calling me a dumb little shit, my father would sulk and complain about having to pay for all the car repairs. The details of the accident and the fact I could’ve been seriously injured were never as important as the possibility of his insurance rates going up. Truth be told, I was usually more nervous when a policeman approached my car than approaching my father with a fabricated account of the accident. Over the years, I’d lied to my parents so much—it became automatic, and as a result I became extremely good at it.

But this situation was different. Even though I’m a twenty-four-year-old career woman, my new Daddy is the head of the house I’m currently living in—and he’s made it quite clear how much he cares for me. In my heart, I know his concern is more for my well-being than the cost of car repairs, but I also know his punishment will be stern when he finds out I broke his rule. After all, the morning of the accident, he was very specific I shouldn’t text and drive. So, should I tell him the truth and take responsibility for my actions? I’d only lived with John for a week, but he’d made it known from the start he was a man rooted in honesty. And if I were to be dishonest with him, it could ruin our relationship. Tonight, he’ll call to ask how my day went. For better or worse, I knew what needed to be done.

At that moment, it wasn’t my eye twitching. It was my backside.

Nervously, I awaited his call all evening, and when it didn’t come, I’d almost felt relieved. But as I was getting ready for bed—my cellphone rang. “What are you wearing, Princess?”

Jesus. I was hardly in the mood for games, and there was something important I needed to tell him. “John, it’s been a long day, and we need to talk.”

His voice was low and raspy. “Just answer the question, Lori.”

“A short t-shirt.”

“No bra or panties?”

I knew he didn’t like me to sleep in panties, but for God’s sake the man was a thousand miles away. “No bra, but I do have panties on.”

The sigh he emitted was one of pure exasperation. “It’s obvious you need more lessons in following my rules, young lady.”

Christ. If he only knew how true that statement was. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll take them off now.”

“Lie on the bed, slip those panties down your legs and leave them dangling at your ankles. Then let me know when you’re ready for the next direction.”

“Yes, sir. I’m doing it now. Wouldn’t you rather Facetime, so you can make sure I’m properly following your directions?”

“No. I’d rather hear through your words you’re obeying me.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I purred like a dutiful sub.

“My little girl is extremely respectful this evening, instead of her usual rebellious nature. You said we needed to talk. Did something unusual happen today?”

Fuck. My face flushed with heat at the thought of telling him how I caused an accident by texting. Not to mention that I lied to the officer who wrote up the report. But luckily, he couldn’t see my guilty expression. And this game he wanted to play sounded like it just might be the activity I needed to take my mind off the accident.

“No, it’s not urgent. We can talk about it tomorrow when you get home.”

“Are you sure?”

I drew in a deep breath. The only thing I was sure of was my ass was going to be in huge trouble once I let the cat out of the bag. So, what in the hell was my hurry? “Yes, sir. I’m sure.”

“All right then. Tweak and rub those sensitive nipples of yours until they’re good and stiff.”

My head rested upon the fluffy feather pillow and with two fingers, I worked my nipples until they were sensitive and erect. “May I ask what you’re doing, sir?”

“That’s not something you need to worry about, Missy. Now then, move your fingertips down to your pussy and stroke yourself until you’re soaking wet.”

All thoughts of my accident had been put on the back burner as I raced to see if my pussy lips were warm and moist. Yes, indeed—I was soaked and in the mood for a good finger fuck session. I hadn’t pleasured myself in a while, and the possibility of a happy ending had my pussy lips thrumming with delight.

“Are you circling and strumming your clit right now? Because I want it hard as a pebble when you slide your fingers inside your hot sex.”

Oh God, it felt so good, and all I wanted was to plateau quickly. But I knew my orgasm needed to be under his direction, not mine.

“Now rub your nipple as your satisfaction builds.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I was already breathing heavily, and my pleasure was climbing steadily.

“The time has come to put two fingers inside your pussy lips. And then I want you to slide them deep inside your tight cunny. Immediately.”

Slipping fingers into my narrow walls, a groan escaped my lips as I fantasized that he’d turned me over his knees and his stern hand was spanking my ass. Swaying my hips back and forth, my thrill rose higher and higher like a large wave cresting on the Atlantic Ocean. The joy ride was mind bending and I didn’t want it to end.

I heard a low growl rumble in his chest, but not another sound was heard until I exhaled in heavy, short pants. “I want you to imagine that the fingers in your hot pussy is really my hard cock.”

My aching sweet spot was ready to explode, my thighs involuntarily shuddered and I sucked in a quivering breath before uttering the words he wanted to hear. There was no doubt in my mind he wanted me to ask permission to orgasm, and I was more than happy to submit to him respectfully. “I need to come. Can I come now, sir?”

“Let it go, baby doll. Come for Daddy.”

I clamped my legs together, and in seconds my clit began to thunder violently. For a brief moment, an almost painful sensation had washed away all the troubles of the day as my nerve-filled button thumped to a steady beat while my pussy lips vibrated with satisfaction. Yes, I’d had a few memorable masturbation moments over the years, but never quite like that. It was my first time masturbating to someone else’s command.

And it was heaven on earth.

Wiping wet fingers onto my thigh, I waited for him to speak—wondering if he’d come at the same time I did. I was dying to know—but knew better than to ask. After all, he was in charge. When he finally spoke, his tone was solid and stern.

“Was I giving your bottom a good spankin’ while you were fucking your pussy?”

Jesus. How in the hell did he know?

“Tell me the truth, Lori Hope.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“How did it feel to have my hand burn up your naughty backside? Aren’t you embarrassed that you needed to imagine your Daddy’s discipline tonight?”

Oh God—if he only knew. Wait a minute. Did he know? Fuck. How could he know?

“The officer who took the report of your accident today called me tonight. As you know, my name was on all the paperwork. Officer Green and I are good friends.”

My heart officially skipped two beats. Fuck me. The cop didn’t say anything about knowing John—let alone being his friend. “I’m so sorry. It was an accident.”

“Yes, I’m sure it was—and of course, the most important thing is you’re okay. At least he said no one was injured in the accident. Was your neck hurt from the impact?”

“No. The other driver and I are totally fine. Only our cars took a major thrashing.” I shut my eyes right after the damn words popped out of my mouth—but there was no way to suck them down my parched throat.

“When the officer asked what happened, you said you’d been adjusting the volume on the car stereo. Is that true?”

My stomach somersaulted and I could feel the blood drain from my face. Good thing we weren’t FaceTiming.

“Well, your story would’ve seemed plausible to him except he noticed a cellphone on the backseat of my car, and he wondered what it would be doing there. I also thought it was a strange place for your phone—since my explicit direction was for it to be kept in your purse. Do you have anything to say about that?”

God, I wish I’d told the truth from the beginning. After all the years of lying to my parents, was it possible to transform into the good girl he wanted me to become? “I’m so sorry my eyes weren’t on the road, and I feel terrible about the accident. But I’m so tired, John. Can’t we talk about this tomorrow when you get home?”

“We certainly will, young lady. And I think the appropriate place for our discussion will be while you’re over my knee with your pajama bottoms wrapped around your ankles. That should be a good position for you to be in when I’m given all the details. The details of how the accident really happened.”

There was no doubt he loved the theatrics of a spanking over his lap. And he also loved creating the visual for me. “Yes, sir.”

“You need to know how much your Daddy cares about your safety. And tomorrow afternoon when I get home, I’m going to show you just how much you mean to me.”

There was no need to speak, and no need to challenge how he ran his home. By his tone, I could tell he meant business. But even though I didn’t relish being punished, his undivided attention warmed my heart. This was unfamiliar ground for me to be treated with such unconditional loving care. No one ever spoke to me that way. And I loved hearing his words.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re not to leave the house for any reason tomorrow. I want you in your jammies waiting for me on our bed at five o’clock, and there should be no panties under your pajama bottoms. Do you understand those instructions?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes, Daddy.”

“With your hairbrush placed next to you.”

My head was down, tears had welled in my eyes and I felt like a guilty teenager who’d just broken the rules and was about to be punished. “Yes, sir.”