Missy: Daddy’s Little Slut
By
Missy Dartford
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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PUBLISHED BY:
Missy Dartford on Smashwords
Missy: Daddy’s Little Slut
Copyright © 2012 by Missy Dartford
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Adult Reading Material
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Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Missy: Daddy’s Little Slut
Missy came to consciousness feeling a tingling in her legs. A discomfort bordering on cramping. She tried to flex them, but the slight pain was hampering her efforts. She attempted to reach down to rub them, but she couldn't move her arms. She opened her eyes, but couldn't see. Momentary panic set in until she realised she was blindfolded.
She relaxed and breathed an internal sigh of relief . Daddy.
She allowed herself a small smile, but didn't move again. She knew better. She became accustomed to her position, and realised she was on her back. Her wrists tied tightly together, and pulled above and behind her head. Although she made no further movements, she knew from her earlier attempt that the soft rope that bound her wrists were likely tied to the head of her bed. Her ankles were also bound straight together with the same soft rope Daddy preferred to use. Soft enough to cause slight ligatures, but not enough to cause abrasion. He loved to mark her pretty skin, but preferred no attention to be drawn to her exposed limbs.
'I know you're awake Kitten'. From the sound of his deep voice, he was sitting in the chair in the corner of her room. She wondered how long he'd been watching her. Her wrists and ankles were nearly numb now, so she imagined it had been a while.
'Yes Daddy. Good morning.' she replied. She could feel herself getting moist. Wondered what he had in store for her. He didn't answer her immediately. She could hear no other movement in the room. The house appeared silent. Her mother was due to go away for a few days. Another blogging convention, and must've already left. Missy could only smell the subtle scent of his aftershave, and of her own cunt as she grew more aroused.
He wasn't her real Daddy, but he'd raised her since she was a small child. Marrying her mother after her biological father left one day, never to return. She'd always adored him. Always been Daddy's Little Girl. He doted on her, giving her loads of affection, but stopping short of spoiling her. She instinctively knew not to push the boundaries. Not to twist him too far around her little finger. It didn't stop always stop her though.
By the time she reached her late teens, she was a bundle of hormones. She subconsciously taunted him at every opportunity. Wearing the skimpiest of bikinis. Brushing past him on the way to the bathroom. Pushing her budding breasts against his arm as she snuggled close to him on the lounge when they watched television. Wandering around the house in her bra and panties.
She did similar things to her favourite teacher, Mr Mulder, at the all girl school she attended. Leaning over him at his desk when she needed his help with one concocted problem or another. Pressing her lithe frame against him, letting the lengths of her rich chocolate coloured hair fall onto his arm. He reminded her a lot of Daddy. Around the same age, 43. Perhaps a little shorter than Daddy's 6ft 4 inch frame. A little slimmer than Daddy's muscular frame too. Both with black, salt and pepper hair. The teacher's just a little longer and more tousled than Daddy's sharp hair cut. Both men sported short full beards. Missy loved beards. She loved the way her Daddy's felt when he hugged or kissed her. The feel of his rough scruff against her tender skin.
Jay, her Daddy, had occasion to reprimand her a few times over the years, even spanking her once when she tried his patience once too often. Missy had only just turned 18, was in her last year at high school. And although the act might be perceived as questionable at her age, he never made an inappropriate move that day. No. It was Missy that received an awakening.
After she'd responded facetiously to a comment he made, he spanked her hard and fast. Grabbing her and forcing her to double over, before striking repeated open hand slaps to her ass with his bare hand before she even knew it was happening. It was over as quick as it began. He dragged her by the arm to her room, shoving her until she fell upon her bed, looking at him with wide eyes. He towered over her, his face red with rage. He was visibly shaken, but didn't speak. Just gave her one last look and strode out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
Missy was completely stunned by his actions. No time for fear. No time to scream, cry, rail, at the abuse. She was wearing cut-off jean shorts at the time and by the time she recovered from the swift discipline, she could feel a seeping wetness at the crotch. She thought she'd pissed her pants and her face was burning with embarrassment. She lifted her hips and peeled the tight denim from them, taking her pale pink cotton panties with them. She brought her nose to the crotch of her panties and sniffed at them. Not piss, just the musky odour of her own arousal wafted back at her.
She dropped the cut-off’s and panties to the floor and let her fingers reach for her slit. She was soaking. Her little pussy was drenched. Not with urine, but with that slick juice she'd been experiencing more often lately, even without stimulation. Missy couldn't help but rub her pussy when it felt like this. Her hips rising to meet her delicate fingers as she diddled them over her clit. She'd never delved her fingers, or anything else very far inside her. She'd always determined to preserve her virginity until she met that special someone, but now the urge to stuff her tiny hole with something, anything was almost overwhelming.