Please.
His fingertips returned to trace the dimples on my lower back, slow and gentle and so much like the Dean I remembered. Then as if he flipped a switch, he grasped my panties and tore them clean off my body. The fabric caught the folds of my pussy and pinched them hard enough to make me cry out in sudden pain. I whimpered and pressed my thighs together, but the terrible sound of ripping cloth filled the air and surrounded me like a heavy cloud.
He pulled the remains of my panties from my body and tossed them by my face. He rearranged them so that the gusset of my underwear was on display right in front of me.
I was wet for him.
I was mortified to see the damp fabric in front of me. There was a wet spot in my panties. There would be no hiding that.
I swallowed, trying to get past the dryness in my mouth. It didn’t help.
He didn’t make any movement to take off my shirt or my bra or the socks on my feet, which only served to heighten the fact that only my bottom and my thighs were bare.
Another cry died in the back of my throat as he took the pillows from the head of the bed. I whimpered as his arm wound around my waist once more, lifting up my hips and putting the pillows beneath me.
I’d never been so acutely aware of my nakedness as I was in that moment. My mouth was open in shock and it was getting hard to breathe. My stomach danced with anxiety and my core clenched tightly with something I very reluctantly identified as arousal. My thighs rubbed against one another and I couldn’t stop thinking about how my ass and my pussy were bare. My bottom felt like it was on complete display.
“Is it going to hurt when you rape me?” I whimpered, unable to stop the way my voice shook and my lower lip quivered with terror. My fingers curled into tight little fists and my nails dug deep into my palms.
“No, little girl. I won’t take you against your will,” he replied softly. There he was again. The Dean I knew. The Dean I’d stood at the altar with over a year ago.
“What are you going to do?” I pressed. I needed to know what was going to happen next.
His fingers flittered across the naked skin of my bottom and I jerked away the tiniest bit. I didn’t want him to touch me. I wanted him to touch me.
I didn’t know what I wanted.
What he wanted…
“You lied to me. You faked your story, your name, every single detail of your life was fabricated. You made everything up and then you stole from me. You were a very bad girl and now Daddy has to punish you,” he replied firmly.
Did he just say Daddy?
“What? Please, Dean. Just let me go. We can figure this out together.”
“No. I think it’s about time I stopped allowing you to call the shots. It’s time Daddy took control,” he added, and I could have sworn my belly dropped straight to my toes.
What the fuck did that mean?
His palm dragged over my naked cheeks and I pressed my thighs together even more firmly.
“You are a beautiful little thing, but you know that, don’t you?” he asked.
I didn’t answer.
He continued exploring my exposed backside, tracing his fingertips along the gentle curve of my hip and the lower arch of my spine before a single finger dragged down the cleft of my ass. My breath hitched in surprise.
“Has anyone ever taken you here before, little girl?” he questioned.
“No,” I balked. Of course no one had. I don’t know why I even dignified him with an answer.
“That’s not a proper answer, little girl,” he drawled. I grimaced. The pet name irritated me, but at the same time my pussy clenched hard every time that he said it.
“What the fuck do you mean?”
“Such terrible language coming from such a pretty little mouth,” he purred, and I didn’t like that insinuation in his tone. His fingers kept relentlessly touching me, stoking whatever sick arousal was rolling inside me. My chest shuddered as I struggled to draw in a breath, and it was with a mortifying tremble that I realized that I was beginning to press up against him. My body was seeking his touch.
I was responding to his cruelty and I didn’t know why.
“Please, just let me go,” I begged. I didn’t want him to know I liked this.
“When you’re being punished, little girl, you will refer to me as Daddy. If you don’t, you’re only going to make this worse,” he murmured.
His palm patted my left cheek, just lightly enough for it to echo all around me. I wasn’t sure why that made my heart seemingly stop, but it did.
He wanted me to call him Daddy.
“What?”
His words almost didn’t compute in my head. It made no sense. Maybe this wasn’t Dean after all. Maybe this was his evil twin, and this was all an elaborate ploy to get inside my head too.
“You will call me Daddy, little girl,” he repeated.
“Or else what?” I goaded.
“Have you ever been spanked?”
My mouth opened, but no words came out. At once, this all seemed to make sense. Him taking down my jeans. Him ripping off my panties. Him baring my bottom and putting my nakedness on display.
He was going to spank me as punishment for what I did.
“By your silence, I take it you’ve never been spanked in your life, but that is going to change very soon. You see, Daddy is going to punish your bare little bottom until it’s bright red. I’m not going to stop when you beg me to. Daddy is going to make sure that you’re very sore and very sorry by the time he’s through with you, little girl.”
“I won’t do it. I won’t call you that. It’s wrong,” I exclaimed. It felt dirty and wicked
