Disciplining Daddy’s Little Girl

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Inspired to write my first ever erotic story, having enjoyed many on Literotica.com – I’m also hoping to interact with its member’s community.

This story is not an actual or fictional account of sexual interplay between Father and Daughter or Stepfather and Stepdaughter.

It is intended as a fantasy roleplay scenario for imaginative adults. The characters in it are created aged 18 and over.

You cautiously come into the house, quickly looking around hoping that I am still in bed. It is quiet, so you assume that I am not up.

You head to your room but, as you pass the living-room entrance, you are surprised to find me sitting in there.

I notice you, and the parcel that you are carrying so, I sternly question you –

“And, just where have you been?”

Surprised, like rabbit caught in the headlights, you just freeze there.

After a few moments of silence I press again.

“I asked you – where have you been?”

You look at the floor, then look at me and answer

“I went to the post office, daddy, to pickup this missed delivery.”

You gesture to me with the parcel.

“I can see that much. Was it not something addressed to me, then?”

“Oh, no daddy, it’s mine.”, you answer.

“So, what is it you was hoping to keep from me, young lady?”, I ask.

“Oh, nothing much, daddy.”, you try to evade, but I’m not having that.

“You’d better show me what you’ve got there.”, I demand.

You tentatively make your way before me and kneel on the floor.

Nervously, you open the parcel and take out the wrapped contents that are inside.

You stall, hoping that will suffice, so I prompt you

“Go on, take them out of the packs”, which you do.

The contents are some undeniably skimpy tops, skirts and panties.

Your face beams, so pleased with what you’ve got, but I’m not smiling.

“Is this what you intend to wear to attract the attention of all the boys?”

“But daddy, there’s nothing wrong with them.”, is your unsure reply.

“I’ll be the judge of that, my girl. I must see you in them first before I can approve of you going out anywhere wearing them.”

You seem reluctant but, in fact, you are a little excited by the prospect.

You scamper away to put on the hipster mini-skirt and tiny crop-top. Then a few minutes later, you hurry back to the living-room, stopping only briefly to peek around the corner to get an idea of my demeanour. I am sitting there impatiently.

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you enter, gliding toward me, turning for me to see around your barely clad body.

I admire your flesh that is on show more than actually assess the decency of the garments.

With the look of a disapproving father, I say –

“That top is so small, it shows most of the underneath of your breasts.”

You look down at them and then pretend to make an attempt at adjusting it .

You pull the hem down, with only a token effort, but it isn’t capable of cupping your titties.

When you let go, it just slips back almost to it’s original line. While you’re still looking at your chest,

I bring my hand up, which is now holding a crop that I’d stowed down the back of the sofa cushion.

I deftly swat the underneath of each tit.

“OW! OW! – OH, DADDY!”

“There – do you see, my girl? Like I said, you’re partially exposed.”

In the next moment, while you still feel the after-sting, I add –

“And the band of that skirt is so low, I can see the top of your pubis.”,

and illegal bahis I sharply swat that spot on your body, too.


“That’s right. Just because you’re fully shaved down there didn’t mean that I wouldn’t notice what you’re displaying”. I go on,

“Did you seriously think having no hair showing would make it acceptable?”

“But daddy…”, you start to reply.

“But nothing…”, I cut in, combined with a swift flick of the crop up between your legs which catches you along your pussy.

“YEOWCH!, you squeel.

“I can see your cleft is being split by that thong, too…”, I pointed out,

“Something you’ve got had damn-well better be more suitable than that. Go change into the others to show me”, I wave you away.

A little tear wells in your eye and with your head in a slight spin, you turn and rush out to go and put on the other things to show me.

This time you put on a light sports-vest, thinking that it cupped your breasts adequately enough to be acceptable to me.

You also change your skirt for the other, a little Ra-Ra skirt, which hangs from your waist rather than your hips and has a slightly lower hem-line than the other.

You come back to the living-room and stand before me for a few moments, awaiting my consideration of what you’re wearing now.

With a circular signal from my finger, I command you to turn around. You do so, steadily yet gracefully.

Your skirt follows you around, the air gently lifting it enough to show most of the semi-transparent thin panties that you now have on.

With my open palm poised, I wait for your butt to be turned around to the side and deliver a firm spank to your flank.

“OWWW!” escapes your lips and you stop twirling almost immediately.

“That didn’t take very much to leave you exposed.”, I observed.

“But daddy, you’re sitting down – that’s why you can see my panties.”, you counter.

To prove my point, I stand, pick up the crop again and indicate to you with it to twirl around again.

The skirt flies out and up again so, In the middle of your second rotation,

I swish the crop which catches you sharp and square across your clit.

You let out a girly yelp followed by an audible “OHH!… AHH!”.

“There, you see – daddy knows best…” and I then add – “And you should be wearing panties with a thick gusset. A decent young lady does not aim to make a camel-toe to show off to the boys”

“I guess, daddy”, you concede, begrudgingly.

“But I’ll give you this…”, I continue, “The only chance for that skirt is if you wear it with pantyhose.

“I will need to see it to be absolutely certain.”

At that, you start to leave the room so I shout after you –

“Stop right there, young lady – I didn’t tell you to go yet.”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry daddy”, you stop to apologize. Shaking, you turn to face me and, with precision, I swipe each of your nipples which, in your excited response to the situation, have become erect.

“I hadn’t even got to the matter of that top yet”, I went on –

“It does not do a very good job of keeping your nipples modest, does it?”

“No, daddy”, you admit.

“Now you may go and put on some pantyhose under that skirt for me.”

You go to your room. With a defiant streak now, you remove your panties and put on a crotch-less pantyhose body-stocking, thinking – “You won’t see my panty’s crotch under this skirt now, daddy.”

A few minutes later, here you are before me again.

“But daddy, that’s not fair, you’re illegal bahis siteleri sat down again”, you protest.

“The boys will likely sit or get down on the floor to see up your skirt” , I point out to you.

You realize that I’m right, “Oh, I guess so. Alright then, daddy”.

You twirl around before me again. This time, I notice a hint of pale pink-white skin at your groin.

“That’s too close. If you had shoes on, I’d probably be saying: that’s unacceptable”, I inform you.

“Go and put on your new heels, baby”.

You quickly trot away and back.

Standing slightly unsteady before me in your new stilettos, you have a knowing look on your face.

This time, I don’t signal you to turn around. Instead, taking the crop in hand again, I tap it against the insides of your thighs to instruct you to stand with your feet apart.

Once I’ve taken in the view, not to mention a whiff of your pussy’s scent, I extend my empty hand.

“What’s this?, I pretend to enquire, “Has a thread got pulled here?”

I feel for the protrusion, which I already know is not a gathering in the seam,

and roll around your lovely, long labia between my forefinger and thumb.

You slump, melting a little at the sensation of me kneading and pinching your moistening lips.

After several moments, I withdraw my hand and show you my shiny wet finger.

Putting on the look of a concerned father, I give my supposed verdict – “This just will not do at all, my girl.”

“I can not allow you out, looking like a whore, in these. Neither should you want to go out in public, looking to all like a whore.”

Your head drops and your eyes close, in shame or disappointment.

In that moment, I pop my finger into my mouth and quickly suck your sweet nectar from it.

Still savouring the taste, I go on to say –

“This should be a lesson to you. In future, I expect you not to waste your allowance buying clothes that I would not approve of.”

Not entirely surprisingly, you are not as upset by this as I’d expect.

You show a hint of typical (like, do I care?) teenage girl attitude.

“Do you understand me, young lady?”, I check.

“Um, I guess”, you mumble back, which raises my suspicion further.

“You didn’t buy these with your allowance, did you?”

You do not reply, not yet willing to confess your transgression.

So I shout at you, “Did you?”

“Um… no daddy”, this time you reply, shaking.

“Did you take my credit card to pay for your order?”, I ask, to conclude the interrogation.

You start to cry a little, genuinely at first and then, acting, you deliberately cry harder – playing for clemency from me, in the way that a Daddy’s Little Girl does. I’m not being taken-in by that.

“Well… did you? Tell me”, I press.

“Yes daddy”, you sob to me.

“How could you let me down like this? How did I go wrong with you? Didn’t I discipline you well enough?”, I wondered, aloud.

This catches your attention and your artificial bout of sobbing subsides.

“I’ll have to do a better job with you from now on, my girl”, I surmise.

“I think that at your age, this is what it’ll take to make an impression on you”,

I reach under the sofa cushion and pull out a sturdy spanking paddle.

“Assume the position”, I command you, slapping the front of my thighs.

Tentatively, you position yourself leaning across my knees.

Your chest still heaves and your lungs still bellow at quite a rate, after your crying.

I have the paddle canlı bahis siteleri in one hand, with the other hand I lift your skirt’s hem over your waist to reveal your rear which is only partially covered by your open-crotch, semi-opaque hosiery.

I make a series of gentle pats across your upturned bottom, building up your anticipation of the first smack to come.

Then, I draw my arm back and hold it, for several moments, poised to strike.

Your buttocks are twitching invitingly during these protracted moments, but I bide my time.

Now that I’ve made you wait long enough, I bring the paddle down to bare firmly on your backside.

The sound of the slap is exquisite, accompanied by your loud squeal.

“YEOWCH! Daddy!”

While you’re feeling the stinging effect of the smack, I smooth the flat of the paddle over your ass, in a figure-eight motion. I do this until your clenching, which has pulled taught your buttocks into a beautifully sculpted shape, relaxes back to just a steady trembling.

“I will only stop when you’re ready to beg for my forgiveness”, I put to you, “Do you understand?”

“Yes, daddy. I do”, you reply.

Instantly, I administer the next smack of the paddle, at which you let out a more deliberate squeal.


I deliver a few more spanks, each a little bit harder than the preceding one.

Your enjoyment of this punishment steadily increases with each blow.

Your peachy butt-cheeks are now very rosy too. Even the redness of the covered area is visible through the semi-opaque material.

“I’ll keep on paddling you until you are ready to beg me to forgive you”, I point out to you.

I go on to deliver the heaviest single spank, so far.

“YEOWCH!”, you let out your biggest squeal so far, “… OW,OH,AHH”

“Need I go on?”, I enquire.

“Yes, daddy. Please may I have another”, you beg, not yet for mercy.

Smack – “OOH!” – “Again?” – “Please daddy, may I have another.”.

We repeat this several times. I feel a growing dampness against my thigh, soaking through my pant-leg, from your leaking pussy.

With your heart in your mouth, as your orgasm builds, you are not so able to keep verbalising your pleas to receive another spank.

I switch to a rapid-fire paddling of each cheek in turn, making your buttocks quiver delightfully.

The slapping sounds resonate through the room, which is also filling with your sex scent, fanned by the fast wafting of the paddle.

As your climax approaches, you can not quite manage to stifle your moans of pleasure.

I drink in the look on your face which, as you bite your lower lip, is a perfect image of youthful abandon.

You detect the throbbing stiffness in my pants from your hip, grinding into my lap as waves of intense pleasure coarse through you.

Now, in the after-effect of your orgasm, your body relaxes into my lap.

You are now able to express your release, “Ooh, Daddy. Wow!”

“I think that you have shown me how sorry you are for your bad deed”, I announce,

“I expect you to heed this and to not disappoint me like this again, else you can expect to be disciplined further.”

“Yes daddy”, you respond, with a glint in your eye. I certainly realize too, that you do not mean – yes, you will take heed.

You intend to falter again quite soon, wanting more of this exciting punishment from me.

“That’s my girl. Now you can show daddy how much you love him.”

You twist your position to face me, sitting astride my lap.

You lean in to hug me tight while grinding your crevice along the hard ridge that my engorged cock is making in my pants.

“I love you, daddy”, you assure me, “You’re such a good daddy, to care for his Little Girl enough to punish me when I’ve been bad.”

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