Daddy's Girl

Daddy's girl

1. Nikki and Samantha

“Wow … omigosh …,” said Samantha, “your apartment is just amazing.”

“Amazing,” Samantha said again, through the open doorway of the bathroom tiled from floor to ceiling in unpolished dove-grey marble.

“My god, Nikki,” as she bounced on the enormous bed clothed in slinky grey silk sheets and covers, amongst Nikki's menagerie of stuffed toys and teddy bears. “This is just an incredible place. And that view – wow. I love it. I love all your stuff.” The furniture, the voluptuous marble sculptures, the paintings and the sexy black and white photos on the walls – close ups that morphed between flower forms and intimate anatomy. The clothes and shoes filling the walk-in wardrobe, the good taste – and behind it, the money – on display everywhere.

Nikki, kicking off her kitten-heels and stretching out on the massive white corner sofa in the living room, simply grinned. “What can I say babe, Daddy is good to me.”

“This Daddy …,” Samantha shook her head, “… well, I don't know. All I can say is … when can I meet him?”

“Soon. Soon, if you like. Just so long as you behave yourself …”

Nikki shut her eyes for a minute, sinking back on the luscious white sofa. Daddy really was good to her. And what Daddy wouldn't love his Nikky? Look at her – those long, sleek, but full, soft limbs – bare tanned legs and arms. The black linen summer dress bunching up on the swells of her thighs against the sofa. Full breasts stretching the cloth. Her nearly black hair, cut just above shoulder height, strands of which she's brushing away from her long laughing mouth with a manicured fingernail. Mischeivious hazel eyes, now hiding behind dark-dusted lids like moth wings. Pointed little cat tongue flashing over her teeth as the lips curl back for an instant. Then she composes her mouth again, wriggles her back more comfortably into the sofa, and her nose twitches.

The sofa bounces under her, startling her eyes open, as Samantha flings herself down beside her. They hug for a moment.

“It's just so exciting … I mean, isn't it? You living here … I mean, our Nikki a kept woman! It's so … decadent, isn't it. Brilliant. And d ? 'you know what …”

Samantha wrinkles up her freckled face, pushes the blonde hair back behind her ears, and puts on a highly serious TV guru expression – “you know what, Nikki, you deserve it girl. After some of those stupid, low-life boyfriends you've had, it's about time you found a man who can make you happy. And if it just has to be a rich older man who sets you up in a beau-ti-ful apartment, buys you tonnes of clothes and presents - and oodles of sexy lingerie - well, what can you do?”

“Oh, Sam, thank you. I'm really glad you're happy for me.”

All languor gone, Nikki springs up from the sofa. Stands in front of her friend, hands on hips, smiling as ever, “right then, time for champagne? I think so.”

The two girls were on the second bottle. The stereo was on loud. Sam had pulled out most of Nikki's lingerie wardrobe and modeled, holding the outfits against her clothes, all pouting mouth and mussed hair, sticking her tongue through crotchless lace panties, swaggering her chest out into expensive silk bras. Basques, camisoles, and Daddy's favourite little pussy-winking babydolls.

Panties, bras, nighties and garter-belts were strewn everywhere. Two champagne flutes, half a bottle and another empty rolling on its side against cast-off pumps. Olive stones and lipstick-smeared gold-tipped cigarette butts piling up in a cut glass ashtray on the mosaic coffee table. Two girls collapsing on the white sofa in fits of giggles.

Samantha lay on her belly, head propped on her knuckles with her elbows into a cushion, lying along one wing of the sofa. Outside, the breezy summer afternoon was turning into a vivid blue dusk. The big wraparound windows poured in golden evening light. Inside, Samantha was putting on her serious-pouty expression again, and looking fixedly at her friend.

“Nikki, your Daddy … does he really spank your bottom?”

Nikki giggled. Hid her face in a cushion. Then sat up and looked back into Samantha's face. Stubbed out her cigarette with great care. Bit her lip. “Ye-es. It's true. My Daddy spanks my botty. But only when I'm a naughty girl.”

The last came out in a husky whisper. They both giggled. A tension giggle.

Nikki refilled the glasses. “Seriously, Samantha. Yes, Daddy does spank me. That's part of our relationship. It's something we agreed on, and I accept.”

She stopped for a minute, sipping thirstily at her champagne.

“Go on,” prompted Sam.

“Okay. Well, yes, I have to admit I didn't know what to make of it at first. You remember when I first started seeing Daddy, you remember we called him my ‘mysterious gentleman'. And that's what he was, just this incredible gentleman, like something out of some kind of movie. Taking me out to these fancy restaurants, then sending me home after in a taxi, with just this gentle, warm kiss lingering on my lips. Then sending flowers round to the boutique the next day. I didn't really know what to make of it. Obviously he was this smart, older guy, obviously with plenty of money, and he said that he enjoyed my company and he liked to see me enjoying myself. All very nice, it made me feel pretty good to be treated like some kind of lady for a change. And obviously I knew he was going to want something more out of it, but I was just enjoying seeing how it was going to go. He made all the moves, like he was in control of the situation from the beginning. I didn't even know his phone number, or anything about him really – to be honest, there's still a lot I don't know about what my Daddy gets up to, but that's another story. But so far everything he did was just right … am I explaining myself? It was all a bit mysterious, just waiting to see what he'd surprise me with next, but I was enjoying the ride.

“Then one day he called, he asked me to meet him in this hotel bar, the bar at Les Ambassadeurs no less. It was all this dark leather and shady corners, chinese screens. Like the men in Saville Row suits talking in hushed voices behind the screen next door were probably selling oil fields or nuclear warheads, or arranging who was going to be the next president of Zaire or somewhere. And there in one of these shady corners was me and Daddy, I was sipping a champagne cocktail and he was drinking some incredibly expensive brandy, and he looked all businesslike and serious and said there was something serious he wanted to talk about with me. He said, how much he had enjoyed the time we had spent together, and how he had grown to like me and take an interest in my life, and he believed that I was an imaginative and open-minded young woman, and he hoped I understood how much he respected me and all this, and so would consider his proposition in a spirit of mutual respect and trust. His proposition, that's what he said. And he smiled at me, and I felt scared, and ready to be shocked, but at the same time I felt I could just melt into his big dark eyes. I nodded, and touched his hand. He explained that he had been looking for a long time for someone special, and he hoped I might be the one. What he would ask from me might seem unconventional, and it might seem to be asking a lot. He said that the relationship he offered would require from me a great deal of trust and commitment, and that most girls wouldn't be comfortable with what he was asking. Perhaps I wouldn't be, in which case, he said, he hoped we could part with fond memories of the short time we had spent together. But perhaps, he thought, he might offer me something more.

“So he explained that he had what he called unconventional sexual or romantic tastes. In a relationship he likes to take a dominating role. He said that he isn't a sadist, he doesn't enjoy causing pain. He takes pleasure in receiving obedience and sexual submission from a beautiful woman. But there can be two sides to that role. On the one hand he wants to nurture, protect and give pleasure. Of course, he'll support me in style, treat me like a queen, I'll never want for anything and all that. But, he said, perhaps a little immodestly he thinks he can give me rich and fascinating experiences on more than just the material level. But then, on the other hand, I have to know that he can be very demanding. He will demand that, within the limits we set on the relationship, I will put him before anything else, and work hard to make him happy. And he will demand my obedience. That means that I accept his say on something even when I disagree or maybe feel uncomfortable with what he's asking. And, if he believes it is necessary, he will use physical punishment to reinforce obedience.

“That was exactly how he said it. In the bar in Les Ambassadeurs, in this quiet shady little corner. Sitting across the table looking directly into my eyes. After he'd finished, we just sat there looking at each other for a few moments. I didn't know what to think, what to say. Part of me thought I should just walk out of there, I don't know. But, you know, I just sat there staring into his eyes.

“He smiled. He said, yes it was a lot to think about. Yes, it was a lot to take on all at once, but he had found it was best to be open about these things from the start. If I wanted to, he would take me on a journey towards a distant horizon, he would be my guide. But I needed to come with my eyes open from the beginning. He said he would be there, in the same place, at the same time three days later. That is where it would begin, if I chose. Then he stood up, bent over and kissed me on the lips as I looked up at him, still pretty much in a daze, and he left.

“Three days later, I was there again. I came into the bar, I was five minutes late. The waiter showed me to the same seat, then he brought me a champagne cocktail, before I even had a chance to order anything. Daddy wasn't there yet, in fact the bastard made me wait another ten minutes fidgeting in the chair. Then he came in. He didn't sit down, he just stood next to me, smiled, and held his hand out to me for me to stand up. I was scared, my heart was really thumping. I wanted him to just hold me really tight, he put his arm round me, kissed me. Then we went upstairs, he had booked a suite. It was really beautiful, so much light through the windows, views of the park, and the room was just full of flowers. We just talked a lot at first, I was really nervous, at least until I got quite tipsy on champagne. And we kissed, Daddy stroked my hair. I felt like a little girl already - that's what he does to me Sam. He had brought me this diamond bracelet - it must be worth absolutely thousands. I just kept holding it up in the light from the window, watching it sparkle so much, like there were all little fires in each of the stones.”

Nikki stopped. She drank down the rest of her glass, and looked hard at Sam. “Gosh. I'm rambling on, Sam. I'm sorry … I don't know what it must all seem like to you, and I'm not sure I really know how to explain … I mean …”

They smiled at each other. Sam said, “so far it sounds, well, really romantic Nikki. Actually, incredibly romantic. If a bit weird, it's true. But … well, you haven't said …”

Nikki laughed loud. “I haven't said anything about the spanking? Is that what you really want to hear about Sammy? It is, isn't it. I'm sorry, enough diamonds and flowers and kisses, let's get down to it. Okay.”

She was lighting another cigarette. Smoked, cleared her throat, composed herself. “Okay, the truth. The truth is I'm a shameless hussy and actually I rather like it. Well, let me qualify that. There's spanking, and then there's when it's rather more serious, and that can be something else. But for the most part …

“Well, the truth is, sometimes I think Daddy might have guessed I already had a weakness for a few love pats, even a little bit of bondage. Maybe it's just my imagination, but I think he might have known I wouldn't be too shocked by the idea. You remember my ex-boyfriend Chris? Sometimes we used to play spanking games, Chris used to tie my wrists behind my back, then he'd put me over his knee and give me a bit of a spanking. You know, pretty light stuff, I was a naughty chambermaid or something - ‘ oh please master Chris, please sir, I promise I'll be a good girl in future. ' He never smacked me very hard, and then after a few smacks he'd stop and tickle in between my legs … well, that used to get me very hot, my dear, and then the naughty chambermaid would get a jolly old rogering. But it was only a bit of fun, we both had to be in the mood for it. I certainly wouldn't have let him try anything like that if I wasn't up for it already.

“But of course with Daddy it's different. He doesn't spank me just for fun – or not usually, and then it's just a few pats. And when he spanks me he usually takes it quite seriously – or at least he makes out as if he does. And sometimes I'm not in the mood for it at all, in fact often I'm all indignant and I'm not happy about it at all, but I have to go through with it because that's part of the whole thing. And at first I thought I might resent it. And sometimes maybe I still do. But the more I'm with Daddy, the more … it's like I understand it more. So now at first I might kick up, throw a fit, but then he takes control and soon, somehow without me knowing it, I don't want to fight him any more. I just feel like I'm happy he's taken control, I can kind of let go of all of it … it sounds stupid, but it's almost like I'm grateful to him for punishing me. And then I get that tingling inside … well sometimes it's enough to make you want to be a naughty girl, just to feel that tingle inside when you're lying over Daddy's knee …”

Nikki stopped. She looked at Sam, who was lying with her head on her knuckles staring wide-eyed up at her. Nikki took a drag and exhaled aloud.

“So, Sam, d ? 'you think I've gone mad? Or what?”

“No, no. I didn't say that Nikki. I mean, whatever turns you on sweetheart …”

“Yes, okay, I get turned on from being spanked over my Daddy's knee. Actually, yes, fuck yes, I get seriously turned on from it. I get all wet when I'm getting my spanking. Okay?”

Nikki put on a fierce face that turned into another stream of giggles, giggling right into her champagne glass.

“So,” said Samantha, “so what do you do to be a naughty girl then?”

“To be a naughty girl?” Nikki put the cigarette out. “Well, Daddy doesn't like me smoking for one thing. I mean, if Daddy had walked in just now and found me smoking, well I'd have a red bottom tonight.”

“So aren't you worried he'll smell all the smoke in here if he comes tonight?”

“No. Because I'll just blame it all on you Sam.”

“And then I'll get a red bottom …”

Nikki laughed. “Well, maybe, if that's what you want Sam …”

Sam was blushing. She quickly tried to cover it up. “What else? What else doesn't Daddy like?”

“Well … basically, Daddy wants me to act like a lady. To have good manners, always be polite, and kind, and that means showing that I value our time together, not sulking or being petulant or unappreciative. Always remembering what a lucky young lady I am, and keeping a happy face, and trying to brighten the day for everyone I meet … not bringing people down or making people worry. Not letting myself down either, and that means paying attention when Daddy is teaching me something, because I'm a clever girl, only sometimes I can be arrogant and think I know more than I do, and I have to watch out for that. So basically, always try to be good, and … well, and always dress nicely, pay attention to my appearance, depilate, exfoliate, manicure, always be on time, keep the flat clean – Daddy pays for a cleaning lady but that doesn't mean I should let the place turn into a tip in the meantime, smile and say please and thank-you, that kind of thing. Do all that, and my arse is safe. Be late one time, or get in a rush so my hair's a mess or my makeup's not done properly, and I know I'll be over his knee when we get home that night. And, even though I might not think so at the time, the truth is that after he's made my bottom all red I'll be horny as hell, and so will he and I'll definitely get a good seeing too.”

Sam said – “so, then, I mean, you like it really … it's not really a punishment at all is it? So you're not really going to be any less of a brat, are you?”

Nikki was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then she said, “no, I think I have changed quite a bit. I don't know if it's because of the spanking as such, maybe it's more that I respect Daddy, and I find – god what am I saying – but that's how it is … I respect him, and I find that I want to please him, I want to be good for him. Yeah sometimes I might act like a bit of brat to get over his knee, it's true, but that's only a bit of a game then. On the whole, I think I do try to act like a lady for him.”

She paused. Drank another sip. “And then, there's some times when it's more than just a little bit of a spanking … I mean, being a few minutes late or not fixing my make-up properly, that's one thing. Daddy knows I'm like that sometimes, sometimes I'm just forgetful, maybe a little bit selfish, but it's just I get caught up in things. He understands that. When he gets really pissed off with me, it's when he thinks I'm being deliberately rude. Daddy can't stand rudeness. If he thinks I'm being inconsiderate to him, or to someone else, or lying to him, then he gets really upset with me. And then it's not a game any more Sam. Then it's a real punishment.”

As if to emphasise the seriousness of a real punishment, the CD suddenly ended, leaving the two girls thinking in silence. From the open windows, they began to hear the sounds of the city outside, sirens far off, the endless hum of traffic, occasional voices in the street eight floors below.

“If you go in my bedroom,” Nikki said, “look at what's hanging on the wall above the bed.”

“I didn't notice …”

“So go and have a look, then.”

Sam pushed herself up off the sofa and, tripping at first over her long tipsy legs, went to the bedroom. “Oh,” came out of the bedroom doorway. She came back standing above Nikki in front of the sofa, holding out a thick strip of heavy black leather, about a foot-and-a-half-long and three inches wide. It was in fact one longer black strip doubled over into a loop, then stitched together along the length, with a metal V like a buckle protruding at one end. In short, an old-fashioned barber's razor strop.

“Nikki … my god … this looks wicked … does your Daddy really …”

“Only once,” said Nikki. “Only once. I keep it hanging over the bed as a reminder. Though you know I'm not going to forget it in a hurry.”

“He hit you with this … on your bottom?”

“On my bottom, then on my thighs, the inside and outsides of my thighs, then, last of all, he made me open my legs very wide, and he gave me five with that right between the legs, on my pussy.”

“Christ … you must've screamed the house down …”

Nikki shook her head. She swallowed, remembering. “No, when Daddy punishes me hard, he scrunches up my panties and puts them in my mouth, like a gag. And when he hits me, I bite down really hard on the panties. So I don't scream, really. Just kind of whimper, really. And I cry a lot. I always cry. Daddy calls me his big crybaby.”

“But he's only beaten you with this once …”

“With that, yes. Usually if I've just been a little bit naughty he spanks me with his hand, over his knee. If I've been really bad he uses the paddle – that's in the drawer under the bed, if you're interested. Sometimes as well he gives me a few strokes with the crop between the legs. If I'm getting a serious spanking he doesn't put me over his knee. When I'm lying on his knee I just wriggle about a lot and get myself all excited … and get Daddy excited too. And it feels nice and comfortable, kind of safe, having that contact with him. But when I've been really bad it's not like that. I have to kneel on the bed … like this …”

Nikki got herself into a doggie position on the sofa. On her knees, her face was pressed down into the sofa, black hair all spread around, long arms stretched in front, like praying, with her breasts squashed into the sofa, and her back arched up so her bottom stuck out into the air. Her legs were as far apart as they would go in the black knee-length dress. “Normally I'd be completely naked, and Daddy would make me open my legs much wider, so he can get the paddle in to get my inner thighs … and if he wants to hit my pussy.”

“Wow,” said Sam. Sam stood there in front of the sofa, shifting a little from foot to foot, shaking her head in amazement. Then, stretching out her arm rather meekly, she slapped the strap very lightly against Nikki's bottom. She laughed. “Christ.”

Nikki rolled out of the position and sat up again.

Sam shook her head. “I don't know Nikki, … I don't know if I could do that. I mean, he must be really hurting you with that thing… it's not just a game, is it …”

“No, it's not just a game. I said, it's a part of our relationship. He's my Daddy, and he takes charge of me … if I'm naughty, I get punished. But if I'm good, then it's really good. He's really good to me, Sam. I mean, look at all this, and more importantly – wait till you meet Daddy … you see, I know it may seem strange to you, but it's worth it … the worst punishment, the worst punishment would be if my Daddy didn't love me any more. And if he let me just turn into a spoilt, nasty little brat, then I know I'd lose him. Even that time when he punished me with the strop, I always knew that I could say no. But if I did that how would I make him respect me, after the stupid brat I'd been? I would lose his respect, and then it would change … so I wanted him to punish me, I asked him to do it … actually it was my idea that he use the strop, I knew I needed that …”

Nikki poured out the end of the bottle. “Sam, look … I didn't really know what to think of it at first either … but it was what we agreed on from the beginning, I went into it with my eyes open. And, well, I don't like being punished Sam, but you know it is really kind of sexy, isn't it? Don't you think so? Not when it's really hurting, but when I think about it now … it does make me feel pretty yummy to think about it. And afterwards, after I've been punished, well … that's when it's the best ever. So be honest with me Samantha, just picture yourself for a moment kneeling on that bed, naked, with your legs spread wide open, waiting for the strap, not knowing when it's going to come, but just waiting there, the air on your bare pussy. Doesn't the thought of it make you feel just a bit gooey inside?”

Sam drank the glass down. “Alright Nikki, maybe it does. I don't know. Maybe I know what you mean, but still I don't know if I'd ever let anyone do that to me … anyway, it's your choice I suppose …”

Nikki jumped up to change the CD. “Anyway, talking about getting a spanking, we'd better start clearing up all this mess … if Daddy comes and finds the place like this.”

Sam started picking up shoes and underwear. Nikki carried the empty bottles, glasses and ashtray through to the kitchen. The music came on loud again, and they danced as they cleaned up.

In the kitchen, where Nikki was washing the glasses, Sam leaned against the doorframe and said, “Nikki, so what did you do exactly to get the strop?”

Nikki laughed. “Oh, so you're not sure if it turns you on then ….”

“Well … it was just a simple question.”

“Was it? Well maybe I'll tell you, or maybe not. Maybe later, if you're a good girl, I'll tell you the story of how naughty Nikki got the razor strop …”

The phone was ringing. Barefoot, Nikki ran first to the stereo and turned the volume down, then dived over the back of the sofa, reaching for where the phone sat on the mosaic coffee table …

“Daddy?” Her voice was all little-girl-caramel. “Yes Daddy, my friend Sam came round to play … she loves the apartment Daddy, she won't stop going on about it, she's really jealous… does she want to stay for dinner? I'll ask, Daddy. Yes, of course … yes, I know she'd love to meet you … yes Daddy, I'll be ready then, I'll make everything just how you like … thank you Daddy, love you too Daddy …”

She put the phone down. “Well then babe. Daddy says do you want to stay for dinner. What do you think? Still want to meet him, or are you worried you might not be able to stop yourself getting bent over my Daddy's knee and getting those cheeks reddened?”

Sam ignored the last comment, though she couldn't hide her blush – her face had gone bright red. “What do you think Nikki? … of course I'll stay …”

“Fantastic. You can give me a hand with dinner. Oh, and Sam, Daddy says if you want we can have a sleepover …”