A BAD GIRL FOR MY DADDY

CHAPTER 3

DOMINIC



The moment I walked into Sanctuary, I saw her.

She was standing near the bar, all long legs and dark hair, wrapped in emerald and leather like some kind of forbidden gift. But it wasn't her looks that caught my attention. Plenty of beautiful women frequented clubs like this. It was the way she carried herself. Confident but guarded. Submissive but selective. She had a sharp intelligence in her eyes that most of the Dominants here probably couldn't handle.

I wanted her immediately.

I had come to Seattle to escape New York for a while, to get away from the memories of my failed marriage and the business deals that never stopped. My friend Xavier had recommended Sanctuary, had even called ahead to vouch for me. The club owner, Richard, had offered me the Obsidian Room as a welcome gesture.

But I hadn't planned on using it. I had planned on observing, getting a feel for the club, maybe playing with someone uncomplicated.

Then I saw Sia, and all those plans evaporated.

I watched her turn down another Dom. A younger guy who looked disappointed but not surprised. She had standards. Good. I didn't trust submissives who would play with anyone.

When I approached her, I half expected her to turn me down too. But she didn't. She was cautious, smart, asked all the right questions. It made me want her more.

Now she was standing in front of me in the Obsidian Room, her hands reaching for the laces of her corset, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

"Slower," I told her. "I want to savor this."

She complied, her fingers moving deliberately over each lace. The corset loosened gradually, revealing smooth skin inch by inch. She wasn't wearing a bra underneath. Just bare skin and confidence.

When the corset finally fell away, I let myself look. She was stunning. Small, pert breasts with dusky n*****s that were already tight with arousal. A slim waist that flared into curved hips.

"The skirt," I prompted.

She unzipped it and let it pool at her feet, revealing a black lace thong and thigh high stockings with garters. My c**k hardened painfully against my zipper.

"Everything."

She hooked her thumbs into the thong and slid it down her legs, stepping out of it gracefully. The stockings and heels stayed on. I hadn't told her to remove those.

"Perfect," I murmured. "You follow instructions beautifully."

The praise made her shiver.

I circled her slowly, taking in every detail. There was a small tattoo on her left hip. A lotus flower in delicate black ink. A thin scar on her right knee, probably from childhood. Her skin was flawless otherwise, unmarked by any other Dominant.

"Has anyone ever made you come so hard you cried?" I asked.

"No, Sir."

"Has anyone ever taken you to subspace?"

She hesitated. "I don't think so, Sir. I've felt good during scenes, but nothing like what I've heard described."

"Because none of them earned your trust." I stopped in front of her. "I'm going to earn it tonight, Sia. And when I do, you're going to fly for me."

"Yes, Sir." Her voice was breathless.

"Kneel."

She dropped gracefully to her knees, her hands automatically resting on her thighs, palms up. Her head bowed. It was a beautiful position, classical and submissive.

"Eyes up. Look at me."

She raised her gaze, and those dark eyes were already hazy with submission.

"I'm going to touch you now. You don't have permission to come. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir."

I ran my fingers through her silky hair, gathering it in my fist and tilting her head back. Her throat was exposed, vulnerable. I traced my other hand down the column of her neck, feeling her pulse racing beneath my fingers.

"You're already so responsive," I murmured. "I've barely touched you."

"You have a... presence, Sir."

I smiled at that. "Stand up."

She rose smoothly, and I guided her to the St. Andrew's cross. "I'm going to restrain you and use a flogger on you. Have you been flogged before?"

"Yes, Sir. Many times."

"Good. But I guarantee I'm better than whoever did it before." I secured her wrists in the padded leather cuffs at the top of the cross, then knelt to fasten her ankles. Her body was stretched in an X, displayed perfectly for me.

I selected my favorite flogger from the equipment bag I brought. Soft deerskin with dozens of falls, heavy enough to provide real impact but sensual enough to feel like a caress.

"I'm going to start slow," I told her. "Feel free to make noise. I want to hear you."

The first strike landed on her shoulders, a gentle warmup. She sighed. I continued, working my way down her back in a steady rhythm. The flogger landed with a satisfying thud, and her skin began to pink beautifully.

I varied the intensity, mixing harder strikes with softer ones, keeping her guessing. Her breathing deepened. Small moans escaped her lips.

"Color?" I asked.

"Green, Sir. Very green."

I increased the intensity, the flogger landing harder now. Her body jerked with each impact, but she didn't pull away. She was leaning into it, chasing the sensation.

I set down the flogger and pressed my fully clothed body against her naked back. She gasped at the contact.

"You're taking this so well," I murmured in her ear. "Such a good girl."

I reached around and cupped her breasts, rolling her n*****s between my fingers. She moaned louder, pressing back against me.

My hand slid down her stomach to her p***y. She was soaking wet.

"Jesus, Sia. You're drenched."

"Yes, Sir," she whimpered.

I slid two fingers inside her, and she cried out. Her p***y clenched around my fingers, hot and tight.

"Do not come," I reminded her.

"I won't, Sir." But her voice was strained.

I fingered her slowly, my thumb circling her c**t without direct contact. She was trembling, fighting her climax with everything she had.

"Please," she whispered.

"Please what?"

"Please let me come, Sir."

"Not yet." I withdrew my fingers, and she made a sound of frustration that made me smile.

I released her from the cross and guided her to the spanking bench. "Over."

She draped herself over the bench, her ass presented beautifully. I secured her wrists and ankles to the attachment points, spreading her legs wide.

"I'm going to spank you with my hand," I told her. "Count each one. If you lose count, we start over."

"Yes, Sir."

I rubbed her ass cheek, feeling the warmth from the flogging still there. Then I brought my hand down hard.

"One!" she gasped.

I rubbed the spot, soothing it, then struck the other cheek.

"Two!"

I continued, alternating cheeks, varying the intensity. By ten, her ass was bright pink and she was panting. By fifteen, she was moaning with each impact. By twenty, I could see her starting to drift.

I stopped and knelt beside her. "Color?"

"Green, Sir. So green."

"Good girl." I stroked her hair. "You're doing so well for me."

I reached between her legs and found her p***y dripping. I pushed two fingers inside her and used my thumb on her c**t. She cried out, her body tensing.

"Not yet," I reminded her. "You don't have permission."

"Please, Sir. Please I need to come."

"I know you do." I fingered her faster, my thumb circling her c**t. "But you're going to wait until I say so. You're going to show me how much control you have."

She whimpered but didn't argue. Her whole body was shaking with the effort of holding back.

I kept fingering her, bringing her right to the edge and then backing off. Over and over. She was crying now, tears streaming down her face, but she didn't use her safe word.

"Please," she sobbed. "Please, Sir. I can't... I can't hold it anymore."

"Yes, you can. And you will. Because you want to be good for me, don't you?"

"Yes, Sir. I want to be good for you."

"Then hold it." I increased the pressure on her c**t, curling my fingers inside her to hit that spot that made her see stars. "Hold it, Sia. Show me how strong you are."

She was making sounds I had never heard before, desperate and needy and utterly wrecked. This was what I wanted. This surrender. This trust.

"Please," she begged. "Please, Sir. Please let me come. I'll do anything. Please."

"Anything?" I asked.

"Anything, Sir. Please."

I leaned close to her ear. "Then come for me, Sia. Come now."

She shattered. Her whole body convulsed, her p***y clamping down on my fingers so hard it almost hurt. She screamed, loud and raw and beautiful. The orgasm went on and on, wave after wave crashing through her.

When she finally came down, she was sobbing, her whole body shaking.

I quickly released her from the bench and gathered her in my arms, carrying her to the bed. I lay down with her, holding her close, stroking her hair, murmuring praise.

"You did so well, Sia. So perfect. Such a good girl. I'm so proud of you."

She clung to me, her face buried in my chest, crying harder than before.

"Let it out," I told her. "I've got you. You're safe."

She cried for a long time while I held her, and I knew what this was. This was the release she had been holding back for years. All the grief, all the responsibility, all the weight she carried. It was pouring out of her now, and I was honored to witness it.

When the crying finally slowed, she pulled back slightly and looked up at me with red, swollen eyes.

"I've never..." she started.

"I know." I wiped the tears from her cheeks. "That's what subspace feels like. That's what it means to truly surrender."

"I didn't know it could be like that."

"Now you do." I kissed her forehead. "And Sia? This is just the beginning."