The Queen. Tiffany Reisz

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СКАЧАТЬ them tonight. Once she’d told Him that as a little girl she’d loved visiting her grandparents because she had her own bed there—a twin bed with a pastel-blue-and-white-striped quilt and the sheets were covered in laughing white moons and smiling yellow stars. The sheets and the quilt on His bed weren’t identical to the ones she remembered from her childhood days visiting her grandparents. But they were close enough to take her breath away.

       He must have known she was standing there, but He didn’t look at her and He wouldn’t look at her until she spoke the word He wanted her to speak, the word that would begin the night’s humiliations. The last word she wanted to say to Him.

       “Daddy?” Standing in the open doorway to His bedroom, she felt more exposed in that child’s nightgown than she would have been naked.

       He looked up from the book in front of Him and smiled an indulgent fatherly smile at her.

       “What’s wrong, Little One?” He asked, and the name He’d called her for years now took on a darker connotation. “You look upset.”

       She nodded and held on to the bow of her nightgown with both hands, twisting the fabric nervously.

       “Come here.” He waved her over to Him and on her bare feet she walked to Him, slowly...slowly, drawn to Him and repelled in equal measure.

       He closed the book and set it on the bedside table. She stood between His knees. Reaching out He tugged lightly on the tip of her braid.

       “Are you tired?”

       She shook her head.

       “Then what’s wrong?” His voice was so tender and fatherly she burst into tears. He pulled her into His arms and held her while she cried. Holding her on His lap, He gently rocked her and shushed her until her sobs subsided.

       “I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

       “I’m never mad at you.”

       “Then why are you making me do this?” she asked.

       “Because I love you.”

       “You aren’t mad at me?” She was certain He was punishing her for something by making her play this horrible game. But was it a punishment? Was it a horrible game? Or was it something she had wanted, something she had dreamed of, something she had desired and never told Him because she couldn’t bring herself to tell Him?

       “I could never be mad at you. Never ever.”

       “Promise?” she asked.

       “Look at me,” He said in such a tone she obeyed instantly. “You know that, don’t you? You know you could never disappoint me? Yes?”

       She nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

       “Good girl.” He tugged her braid again, then tickled her nose with the tip of it.

       She wrinkled her nose.

       “That tickles,” she said. “Stop it.”

       “Stop it? Stop what? This?” He tickled her neck now with the tip of her braid.

       “Yes, that. Stop.” She tried to pull away from the tickling, but He grabbed her arms with both hands. Before she knew it, He had her flat on her back, His knees straddling her hips.

       “You don’t like being tickled?” He slipped His hand under her nightgown to lightly caress her stomach. She squirmed under His touch. He was only thirty-nine, but He seemed older tonight. Or maybe He only seemed older than thirty-nine because she felt so little and young and scared.

       “No, Daddy.” She tried to wriggle out from under Him but there was no escaping Him and His searching, finding fingers.

       “Why not?”

       She panted, breathless with laughter.

       “Because...” She attempted to twist herself out of His grip and failed miserably.

       “Because why?” He brushed His fingertips over her rib cage and the sensation was so acute it hurt.

       “Because...it...tickles...” Finally she managed to slip out of the prison of His knees and tickling fingers. She made it to the other side of the bed before He caught her again and pulled her to Him.

       “You aren’t allowed to run away from me, Little One. You know it’s your bedtime.”

       “But, Daddy—”

       “And no talking back.” With that He put her over His lap and gave her a vicious swat on her white cotton panties. The pain of it was equal to the shock, and she gasped and stiffened. He spanked her again. Once, twice. Five times total. Her body burned when He’d finished. All of it, not just where He’d struck her. She lay there across His lap and panted while He rubbed her scalding skin.

       “Are you going to behave now?”

       “Yes, Daddy.”

       “That’s my good girl.” He rubbed her bottom and thighs gently as He rocked her in His arms again. She felt peaceful, quiet inside, happy. She’d forgotten who she really was in His arms and that this was a game He’d made her play. She was His little girl. Now. Always. “You need to settle down. It’s bedtime.”

       One finger traced the edge of her panties all the way between her thighs. He pushed the fabric to the side and found her clitoris. He stroked it carefully, steadily and it swelled under His fingertips, throbbing against them as little bursts of fluid coated her labia and vagina. When He inserted one finger into her, He smiled at how wet He found her.

       “Very good girl,” He whispered as He moved His finger in deeper. She buried her face in the crook of her arm while He fondled her. A second finger joined His first one and He spread them apart inside her to open her up.

       “Thank you, Daddy,” she said, the word rolling easier off her tongue now.

       “Are you ready for bed now?”

       “Ready.”

       He took His fingers out of her, and she scrambled back on her hands and knees. He tossed the quilt and top sheet back, and laid her on the bed. He fluffed the pillow under her head before reaching under her gown and sliding her panties off her legs. He stood at the side of the bed and she stared at the ceiling, but she knew He was unzipping His pants. She opened her legs for Him before He asked her to.

       “That’s my girl.” He covered her body with His and when He pushed her legs open wider, she whimpered СКАЧАТЬ