Chapter 6: Daddy Devious: Chapter 5

It turns out the only thing worse than having your bare, recently spanked ass on display, is being forced to sit on your bare, recently spanked ass. The leather seats on Mr. Stone’s private place are butter soft, but it might as well be sandpaper with how raw my skin feels.

“Stop fidgeting, Victoria.”

“I can’t. It hurts.”

Surprisingly, an emotion I could almost mistake for sympathy flashes across Mr. Stone’s face as he lays a hand over mine. “I know it does, little one. Once we’re in the air, you can take the seatbelt off. Until then, sit still.”

“Ugh. Fine.” Yanking my hand away, I cross my arms and flop back against my seat. I’m painfully aware of how childish I’m acting, but it’s difficult to feel like the grown, professional woman I am under the current circumstances.

“The correct answer is ‘Yes, Daddy’, Victoria Rose.”

Nobody has called me by my full name like that since my mom died. The memory brings tears to my eyes that have nothing to do with the ache in my bottom and everything to do with the sudden ache in my chest.

“Yes, Daddy,” I manage to whisper, too tired, too sad to keep fighting.

“Good girl. We’re about to take off, so you only have a little while longer to sit.”

Because I don’t want to have anything to do with him, I look out the window, wiping the tears from my eyes as discreetly as possible.

Soon, though, I’m distracted from my grief by the rumble of the tarmac beneath our wheels as the plane begins moving. Slowly as we move out of the hangar, but then faster and faster.

It hits me then that I have no clue what comes next. I’ve never been on a plane before.

The ground beneath us disappears and my stomach drops. A whimper escapes my lips before I can stop it.

But instead of being scolded, I find my hand wrapped in Mr. Stone’s much larger one. “It’s all right, little one. Daddy’s right here.”

“We’re so high,” I whisper, torn between terror and awe as we rise higher into the sky, the world below us turning into ant-sized versions of itself.

“Have you never flown before?”

“No, Daddy.” The “Daddy” part slips out without me even thinking about it, but I’m too distracted by what’s happening outside my window to think about it.

“I’m sorry, little one. I should have told you what to expect.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

An almost companionable silence falls between us as we climb higher and higher. By the time we reach the clouds—and isn’t that a weird feeling, being above the clouds instead of below them the way God intended—the seatbelt sign has been turned off. Mr. Stone unbuckles mine for me, and I immediately jump to my feet, even though in reality I can barely feel the pain from my spanking anymore.

Chuckling softly, Mr. Stone undoes his own belt and gestures to one of the flight attendants. “A whiskey for me, apple juice for Victoria, please.”

“Wine would be lovely,” I say, flashing the attendant a smile.

But the pretty blonde simply raises a brow and glances down at Mr. Stone, who shakes his head.

“One whiskey and one apple juice coming right up, sir.” Without even bothering to look at me again, she saunters off.

Annoyed at being treated like a child yet again, I glare down at Mr. Stone. “Why can’t I have wine?”

“Little girls don’t drink wine.”

“But I’m not a little girl!”

His smile is smug, with a hint of danger that immediately has me taking a step backward. “As a matter of fact, you are. For the next thirty-one days, you are my Little girl, to be more precise.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Our agreement, Victoria. The second you signed that contract, you agreed to spend a full month with me, living as my Little girl.”

That fucking contract. I really should have tried to read it better. “What does that even mean?”

“It means, while you are in my care, you will be treated like a child. You will be clothed, fed, and disciplined as my Little girl. You will have rules to follow, and if you break those rules, you will be punished.”

“You mean spanked.” I have a feeling I’m going to be spending a lot of time finding excuses not to sit down.

“Among other things. Believe me when I tell you that I have plenty of tricks up my sleeve when it comes to naughty Little girls.”

“What if I change my mind? What if I don’t want to be your… whatever this is?”

He shrugs, as if it doesn’t matter to him one bit if I change my mind. “Then we can go back to New York and let the police handle your embezzlement.”

Trapped. I’m trapped, so neatly and perfectly between a rock and a hard place I can barely breathe. “So I go along with being treated like a literal child, or I go to jail.”

“Precisely. I’m glad we understand each other.”

“I understand you’re a sadistic son of a⁠—”

Ice-cold fury flashes in his eyes as he raises a hand to cut me off. “On your knees.”

The order is so out of left field, I can only stare. “What?”

“Get on your knees, Victoria. If I have to tell you again, you’ll be kneeling with your naughty bottom covered in welts from Daddy’s belt.”

A spanking is one thing, but the thought of being whipped with a belt drives me to my knees. Literally.

Pride flickers across Mr. Stone’s face as he crooks a finger. “Crawl to Daddy, little one.”

I am painfully aware that in all my distraction from the takeoff, I haven’t bothered to pull my skirt down. Which means my bare ass is once again fully on display as I lower myself onto all fours and do exactly as he asked.

I crawl.

Although it’s only a few feet, it seems to take forever to actually reach him. And the entire time, my mind is screaming at me to stop. To get the fuck back up and tell him where he can shove that damn belt of his.

But it’s not just the promise of a whipping that keeps me on my knees. There’s something inside me, something dark and hidden I’ve never felt before that craves this. Craves the humiliation of crawling to him, my well-punished ass on display for everyone to see. Craves the knowledge that he is going to hurt me.

I have no idea where this feeling, this need has come from. But I can’t seem to fight it.

And I’m not even sure I want to.

When I am kneeling in front of him, he reaches for the buckle on his dress belt, and for a moment I fear he’s going to follow through with his threat to whip me after all. But he doesn’t pull the thin strip of leather from its loops. Instead I watch, riveted, as he undoes his pants, freeing what just might be the largest cock I have ever seen.

Wrapping one hand around his length, he strokes himself, and my eyes widen as his already impossibly large cock grows even larger. “I am willing to tolerate a bit of brattiness, Victoria, but you will mind your tongue. Name calling and foul language are off limits for my Little girl. And because I am a man who believes in beginning as I mean to go on, we are going to wash all those filthy words out of your mouth right now. Open.”

My lips tremble as I force them apart. And then he reaches for me, his hand tangling in my hair, pulling me forward. The tip of his cock forces my lips open even further, and the girth of him stretches my mouth beyond what’s comfortable. Using my hair for leverage, he pushes my head down, until my throat contracts around him and I gag.

“A fitting punishment for a naughty mouth, don’t you think?” he asks conversationally as he pulls me back just enough to allow me to breathe.

Tears blur my vision as I’m forced to choke on the thick length of him, over and over. They slip down my cheeks, mingling with snot and drool as he fucks my mouth without mercy.

“Your mouth feels so good on Daddy’s cock, little one.” His groan is that of a man on the edge, and pride swells in my chest before I remember I’m not supposed to be enjoying this. “I can’t hold off much longer. You’re going to swallow every last drop I give you, or we’ll do this all over again after I turn that naughty bottom of yours red again.”

A moment later, he swells in my mouth, and the salty taste of him hits my tongue. I swallow hard, desperate not to let even a single drop spill from my lips.

“Such a greedy Little girl,” he says with a low, wicked laugh. “That’s it, little one. Swallow all of Daddy’s cum. My greedy little baby.”

His words are designed to humiliate, and they do. But there’s another feeling coiling inside me, growing tighter and hotter with every filthy word from his mouth. Need, more urgent than anything I’ve felt before burns between my thighs.

Whimpering softly, I press my legs together, desperate to relieve the ache. I thought I was being discreet, but Mr. Stone tugs on my hair, forcing me to look up at him. The corners of his lips are turned up in a smile, and amusement dances in his eyes. Amusement, no doubt at my predicament, which is just another layer of humiliation.

“Do your naughty-girl parts need some attention, little one?”

There must be something broken inside me, because all I want in this moment is his hands on me. Touching me, teasing me, giving me the pleasure my body desperately craves. I shouldn’t want to be anywhere near him, not after what he’s done to me, but it seems as though I left all logical thought behind me in New York. “Y-yes, Daddy.”

“Come here. Let Daddy make it all better.”

Defying all common sense, I climb up into his lap. He cradles me in one arm while his free hand travels up my thigh, brushing along the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.

“I normally don’t reward naughty girls with pleasure,” he murmurs as his fingers drift ever higher. “But you’ve had a hard day, haven’t you, my little thief? I suppose I can make an exception this once.”

Little thief. The nickname makes my insides clench.

I am a thief. A criminal. And this is my penance.

Somehow, that thought makes the pain and humiliation easier to bear. I could be rotting in a jail cell right now, awaiting trial. Instead, I’m on a private jet with the most gorgeous man alive running his fingers along the seam of my soaking wet pussy.

Pleasure courses through me when he pushes those fingers inside me. My needy whimpers mingle with his quiet chuckle as he strokes me.

“So wet for me, my little thief. Your greedy little kitty is squeezing my fingers so tight. I think you enjoy being my Little girl more than you realize.”

Denial burns on my tongue. But how can I deny it when everything he says is true? Beneath the pain, the humiliation, everything he’s done to me has made me ache for him. I was drenched before he even touched me, and my pussy is in fact spasming around his fingers as he slowly pushes me to the edge of sanity.

With another of those needy little whimpers, I arch up, into his touch, begging for more. Drawing his fingers from my pussy, he uses my own arousal against me, making my clit slick as he circles the swollen little nub.

“Do you want to come, little one?”

“Y-yes,” I gasp out, clinging to him as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm me.

“Ask me properly, and I’ll let you come. Tell Daddy what you need.”

Oh, god. Calling him Daddy while I’m over his knee getting my bottom spanked like a naughty child is bad enough. But calling him Daddy while he’s finger-fucking me to oblivion is possibly more than my mind can bear.

“Please. Please let me come.” Hopefully all he really wants is to hear me beg, and that will be enough to earn me the pleasure he’s so expertly tormenting me with.

No such luck.

“Who am I, Victoria? Who is touching you right now? Who is playing with your sweet little kitty and making you whimper and moan like a needy little baby? Who am I?”

Insanity. That’s the only explanation for the words that leave my mouth at his command. “Daddy. You’re Daddy.”

“Good girl. Now, ask me again. Ask Daddy to make you come.”

“Please, Daddy. Please make me come, please.”

A low growl rumbles in his chest and his movements become more insistent, more demanding. “Come for me, my little thief. Come for Daddy.”

The orgasm crashes over me, shattering me into a million pieces held together only by the tight band of his arm around me as he continues to stroke and tease every last ounce of pleasure from my body.

Again his chest rumbles, but this time with laughter, I think. I’m not entirely sure, because I’m floating, disconnected from reality as he draws his hand from me.

“What a mess you’ve made, Victoria Rose. But don’t worry. Daddy knows just how to keep his naughty girl from messing all over the place once we get home. Sleep, my little thief. I’ll wake you when we arrive at our destination.”

Snuggled tightly in his arms, for once I obey without a fight.