Layin' the Law (2 page)

I
tried to sit on my skirt, but it was far too short. The vinyl seat of the
cruiser was cool against my ass and my bare pussy, and my juices made it slick.
If we rounded any corners too fast, I'd be in Joey's lap... not that that was a
bad thing, mind you.

Joey
didn't speak on the drive back to his apartment. I continued to play with my
phone until he grabbed it from my hands and tossed it in the back seat. Then, I
sulked. I sulked just like a petulant teen whose father had just confiscated
her connection to her friends. I found channeling my inner adolescent much
easier than I thought it would be. The thoughts screaming through my mind,
however, were anything but juvenile.

He
kept both hands on the wheel, his jaw clenched in mock fury, and his boner down
his left pant leg. I so wanted to lean over and suck him right through his
pants, hear him groan.

Joey
poured himself a jigger of Wild Turkey as soon as we got to his place and
downed it in one gulp like a man about to tackle something challenging. Other
than that one glass of champagne at the reception, I hadn't seen him drink
anything. I don't believe he'd been on duty, though, in spite of driving the
police car. I just think he was behaving himself in front of all those big
wigs.

All
such musings fled my mind the moment I caught sight of the framed photo on his
mantel. I made a bee-line for it. I didn't care if it angered my
"daddy."  In fact, things would undoubtedly be more fun if he had a
reason to spank me... not that he
needed
a reason.

The
photo showed Joey, probably ten years ago, in Marine dress blues, his saber and
several others held high above the heads of a beaming couple. I swooned. I
literally swooned like a Victorian hussy in a too-tight corset.

"Come
here, Serenity." His voice was soft and benevolent, but commanding.

I
turned. He was sitting on the sofa, patting the cushion beside him.

I
took a step toward him and paused. "Are you mad at me, daddy?"

"That
depends on you, little girl. Now, come here. Sit down."

I
did as I was told. Knees together. Hands in my lap. Head bowed. Good girl. All
that was missing was the pleated plaid skirt, white blouse, and black patent
leather Mary Janes with white bobby socks. That, of course, gave me a few ideas
for future play dates.

"Serenity,
tell me the truth. Have you let any boys... touch you?"

My
head jerked up and I met his eyes. "Daddy, I—"

"Don't
even think about lying to me, little girl."

I
considered it, but figured the fastest way to get Joey's hand on my ass was to
plead guilty and beg for mercy. "Once, daddy. I'm s-s-s-sorry. I know it
was wrong, and I promise I won't let it happen again." I managed to make
my eyes fill with tears, although remorse was the furthest thing from my mind.

"Oh,
you'll be sorry all right." He loosened his belt. "But first I want
to tell me about it. Exactly where did this boy touch you?"

Wide-eyed
and chin-quivering, I put my hand on my breast. "Here."

"Show
me," he insisted, his voice filled with barely controlled rage that anyone
had dared to touch his princess. "Show me how he touched you.
Exactly."

Trembling,
I unbuttoned my blouse and shrugged out of it. Rather than removing my bra,
which was quite insubstantial to begin with, I simply lifted my breasts from
its cups. They're on the smallish side, but they fit my frame.

Daddy's
eyes were fixed on them, as if he'd never seen anything quite as lovely or
desirable. "Go on," he prodded without shifting his gaze.

I
passed my palm across my nipples, hand open, and my already-hard nipples
strained to reach it.

"And
did you like that—what he did?"

With
a gulp, I nodded. "It made me feel all tingly, daddy. Like I do right
now."

"What
else did he do? Where else did he touch you?"

I
opened my mouth to reply, and Joey put his hand on his belt.

"Under
my skirt," I mumbled, as I avoided his eyes.

"What's
that? Speak up, little girl, or you'll make it worse."

I
looked up at him and he nodded. I stood, pulled my skirt up around my waist,
and touched my bare pussy. "Here, Daddy. Right here."

He
cleared his throat, and I stole a glance at his crotch. The earlier bulge was
considerably bigger.

"And,
young lady, were you shamelessly without panties then, too?"

"No,
daddy. Honest! I had on granny panties, even, because I had my period. That's
why—"

"Nevermind."

"Oh,
no. No
neverminds
, missy. Finish that sentence."

I
stared at my feet, studied my toes.

"That's
why..." Joey prompted, his hand returning to his belt.

Taking
a deep breath, I forced it out in a rush. "That's why we didn't go any
further... 'cause I had my period."

With
that revelation, Joey pulled his belt from its lugs, scooted into the center of
the sofa, and took my hand, pulling me onto his lap—face down, bare ass up. My
head smooshed into the cushions, muffling my exclamation of protest.

I
turned my head to the side, gasped, and before I could utter a word, the first
stinging slap landed on my ass. I knew it was coming, yet it still caught me
off guard. Joey was far from playful with his spanking. Good.

"Daddy!
Oh, please don't, Daddy!" I did my best to whimper piteously.

Smack!

I
felt that one from clit to nipples and back again, certain that even my brown
ass would be visibly reddened by it.

"I
promise I'll be good, Daddy! Please!"

"You..."
Smack!
"...little..."
Smack!
"...slut!"

The
tears came then, and I let them. I could feel his cock hardening beneath me. It
felt so hot against my stomach. I wanted it in my mouth, in my pussy, in my
ass. Anywhere. Everywhere.

"Daddy,
please! I promi— Ow!"

"My
little girl is going to be no man's slut!"

The
rain of blows continued. They weakened somewhat, their placement varied, but
they continued. We were both panting. I was dripping wet, both from my eyes and
my pussy. When Joey delivered an upswinging slap and felt that wetness, I heard
him growl. The sound of it thrilled me. Primal. Animalistic.

I
braced myself for the next smack, hoping it would land in the same spot. Enough
like that, and I'd come just from the spanking. I waited. Nothing.

"Daddy?"
I dared to turn my head enough to see his face.

His
fingers were in his mouth, tasting me, and his eyes were glazed with what can
only be described as rapture.

"Daddy,"
I whispered, "do you like how I taste?" I tried to keep the smug
satisfaction out of my voice, but I'm certain I failed.

He
turned toward me, and his expression shifted back to the fury I'd seen earlier.
Joey was as completely immersed in his role as any man I've ever known, and it
was a huge turn-on. I hoped I could stay in character and not beg him to fuck
me hard with my very next breath.

Smack!
"My baby girl..."
Smack!
"...is going to be..."
Smack!
"...no man's
slut..."
Smack!
"...but..."
Smack!
"...mine!"

With
the last strike of that flurry, he again landed on the upswing. I was wetter
than I thought possible. His hand covered with my juices, he smeared it over my
ass, soothing the burn.

"My
slut," he cooed repeatedly as he touched me. It was both prayer and
promise.

"Yes,
Daddy. Oh, yes!" I squirmed, hoping his fingers would dip into my ass or
deeper. His cock twitched beneath me. "I want to be your slut!"

I
felt a flush sweep across my body, a warmth that went beyond arousal. My Daddy
wanted me, his little girl. With closed eyes, I saw the crisp, creased slacks,
the narrow-brimmed hat, and the gloves... those damned, glorious white gloves
running over my skin with such devoted tenderness. The desire beneath the
devotion so very thinly concealed by white cotton.

I
moaned. I think out loud. Maybe not. My thoughts were swirling, and reality
blended with fantasy to the point where I couldn't distinguish the two.

"Daddy?"

He
stopped caressing my ass momentarily, and I felt bereft. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"Would
you... I mean... I would really like..."

His
hands resumed their motion, and I lost the ability to speak. My ass and the
backs of my thighs still burned, and his hands brought an exquisite reminder.

I
wiggled, trying desperately to get his fingers to penetrate, and mewled a
helpless, "Please!"

"Please
what, princess?"

He,
too, failed to conceal a smug satisfaction, although I wasn't certain he even
tried. When I opened my mouth to speak, he thrust two fingers into my pussy. I
nearly came.

"Please!
Oh my god, please!" I had been about to ask him to put on his white
gloves, but I was begging for something entirely different now.

"Whatever
you want, princess. Whatever my little slut princess wants, Daddy will
provide."

I
wiggled. I squirmed. I cried. I absolutely
had
to have my Daddy's cock,
but my muscles refused to obey my mind as long as his fingers were inside me.

When
he began to move them, in and out, with excruciating deliberation, I became a
babbling, incoherent mess.

"Plea—
Da— Oh— my—" One syllable per exhalation. I couldn't manage more.

Daddy's
thumb was poking at the crack of my ass as he drove his fingers into my pussy,
and before my mind knew what my body was doing, I reached back and separated my
ass cheeks to allow it better access. I heard him growl his approval.

"My
baby girl wants her ass fucked, does she?" The tip of his thumb rested
against my puckered hole. "My princess is such a perfect little
slut."

He
teased my ass with his thumb as his fingers continued their assault. I rocked
against his hand, my face pressed into the sofa for leverage, my hands still
opening my ass for him. I screamed into the cushions, "Harder!" but
he couldn't understand me. His cock was so hard against my stomach that it had
to be painful for him.

I
felt Daddy lean forward and heard him spit onto his thumb. A split second
later, he drove it mercilessly into my ass. I came all over his hand, my orgasm
a blinding flash that shattered my world. My pulse no longer emanated from my
heart. It came from my pussy.

"That's
my girl," he purred. "Beautiful. My beautiful girl."

He
slowly withdrew his hand and helped me roll onto my back. Still over his lap,
my crotch was thrust toward his face, my bra pushed down and my skirt pushed
up. My face red, make-up smeared. I must've been quite the sight, yet all I
could see in his eyes was a burning adoration. It made me want him all the
more.

Daddy
lifted my legs as one and slid from beneath me, lowering them gently onto the
sofa as he knelt beside me on the floor. He unbuttoned his slacks, unzipped
them, and let them slide from his hips with a sigh of relief. His black boxer
briefs stretched tightly over his erection and of its own volition, my hand
reached for it.

"Yes,
princess! That's right. Daddy's so hard for you. So hard."

I
was dizzy with the desire to taste him, but he had other plans. Besides, I
hadn't yet regained full control of my muscles. I doubted I could even kneel,
much less stand.

He
removed his uniform shirt to reveal a ribbed black tank and the most stunning
shoulders I'd ever seen. As hard as his cock and sculpted like a marble work of
art, pale and proud. I couldn't take my eyes off them.

When
he grabbed my nearest leg and quickly ducked beneath it, I yelped in surprise.
Without preamble, Daddy plunged his face into my sopping wet pussy. Only the
fact that I'd just come down from an explosive orgasm kept me from coming again
on the spot as his hot tongue found my clit. It wouldn't take much, though, to
get me back on that peak.

He
ate my pussy with both reverence and enthusiasm, worshipping me with his greedy
mouth. Daddy's tongue worked my clit, circling then sucking, as if there was no
way he could ever get enough. When he paused for breath, I could understand the
words he spoke against my sex.

"My
princess... tastes... so... perfect. My baby... slut.. pussy..."

I
could feel his cock surging, pulsing every time I pushed my hips toward his
face.

"Yes,
baby... oh, yes... give me that slutty snatch. Daddy loves eating his little
girl's pussy."

I
was rapidly approach that place of incoherence again. That plateau of bliss
before the free falling climax.

"Mmm,
Daddy. Your tongue feels so fucking good." I reached across my body with
my free hand and grabbed his hair. It was barely long enough to grasp, and I pulled
his head harder into my crotch. "Eat me, Daddy. Eat your baby girl's hot
pussy."