by Writing Shark
Your youngest earns calling you daddy
“It’s hard work making you better Gemma,” you say sternly, but brush her wet tears from her warm soft skin with your thumb. “And I already have Alice.”
But the truth is you want Gemma too. And Elise, too. You want every girl, because you’ve earned them all.
“I know I’ll never be as good as my sister,” Gemma whispers. She knows the truth. But it also seems that now she finally understands who you are. “But I will do everything I can to be your perfect, good little girl.” Her voice sounds hopeful. “I will no longer listen to mom or my sister but only to you Sir. I will always be grateful to you and do everything to make you proud of me. I will try hard, I promise. You are better than mom or Alice, I understand that now. Please give me another chance to be your daughter. I’ll do it right this time Sir!”
“You’re already 18 Gemma,” you say, putting your hand on the gap on her back that opened between her pajama bottoms and her shirt as she snuggled up to you. Gemma does not flinch. But you know that age is just a number. And if you can change 18 years in your favor with Gemma, you can – with more power and brutality of course – with Elise and Amy.
“Please Sir! Please don’t give up on me! I can learn! I’m trying hard!” Gemma is really desperate and you see the fire in her eyes that you also recognized in Alice. She really wants to serve you. “I… I make you dinner with Alice and mom and I get up early and I… I carry your stuff and… I’m very well-behaved and… And I hug you every day and tell you what a great dad you are and… I obey you. Always! I obey you because you make a good girl out of me and…” Then you stop her. You gently place your palm on her mouth and squeeze. You feel her warm, moist breath glide through your fingers as she stares at you from her loyal puppy eyes.
The question of whether you forgive Gemma does not arise. You love her as deeply as you love Alice. She’s your daughter. It is your wife who stole her chance to be happy through you. Hellen bears the responsibility and Gemma is simply the victim of her love and your focus on the better sister.
“You can be as good as your sister,” you tell her and her eyes shine brighter than ever. It’s the best thing you’ve ever said to her. “And I can love you just as deeply as she does.” And you top it right away. Her tears trickle down your palm and Gemma closes her hands around your arm with affection, holding you close to her, guiding, controlling her. You let go of your daughter.
“I’m too stupid to understand father,” Gemma whispers. “Please help me and make me better. What can I do to be as good as Alice?”
You smile. You’ve done it. Gemma wants to be yours.
“If you want to be like your sister, there’s no turning back, Gemma princess,” you say softly, like a caring father. “Are you sure that’s what you want? That you are strong enough to stand beside her?” Gemma shakes her head, surprising you.
“I don’t know father. I’m weak and stupid. But… But I know you want this. I want what you want father Sir.” And you see her determination in her eyes.
“Do you know what Alice does for me, Gemma Princess?”
“No Sir” she says and then thinks. “But… But I think she…” Gemma blushes and makes you proud. You’ve raised her well. She doesn’t realize you think better of her, but that will come soon.
“Speak up, Gemma.”
“Yes, Sir.” She takes a breath. “I think… I think she… kisses you… Sir…”
You almost have to laugh out loud, but then pull yourself together and keep a stony face. You wanted a naive daughter you could steer and you got her. You become even prouder, seeing that Gemma was not a failure. You can separate her mother from her. And you do.
“How does that make you feel?” Gemma blinks.
“I want to feel the way you want me to feel father Sir.” You stroke her cheek while your other thumb traces the lines of her back.
“You should want this too Gemma,” you say.
“Yes sir. I want…” She has to swallow, understands what it means. But she’s too close to happiness to turn back now. “I want that too.”
You’re at your destination.
“But you’re not as good as your sister.” Briefly, you yank her back, showing her the darkness behind her. Then you show her the light. “You’re too close to your mother. I’m the only one who can make you happy.”
“Yes sir.” Gemma begins to tremble.
“You want to be like your sister?”
“Yes sir.”
“Then take your punishment like a good girl. 18 years you had two parents. As of today, I am the only man in your life.”
“Yes sir.” And Gemma smiles. Of her own volition, she climbs over your lap. She feels your penis against her belly and she hums nervously as you pull down her pajama bottoms and expose her soft ass. Her skin shines like pure snow, a playground only for you.
Her bruises have just disappeared, now you’re going to put a new layer over them and your daughter eagerly lifts her butt towards you, presenting her soft skin between the layers of fabric like a round, bubbly present for you.
“Twenty strokes, same as last time princess.”
“Okay Sir.” You raise your hand, but wait. Gemma doesn’t flinch.
“You count the strokes and answer my questions.”
“Yes sir.”
“Good girl. Now then, why am I spanking you?” Then your hand hits the soft skin of her butt and Gemma rocks forward on your lap.
“One. Because I deserve it.” She breathes heavily.
“That’s not enough for me.” Another slap. Harder this time. Gemma squeals.
“Two Sir. Because… Because I want it…”
“No.” Another slap.
“Three Sir… Because…” She is silent for a long time. “Because I need to learn.” You stroke the reddened spot on her left buttock, making her purr in satisfaction. The pain fades and the joy of doing something right for her father makes Gemma happy.
“Good girl. Next question. Who is the most important person in your life.” Stroke.
“Four Sir. You sir! You alone!”
“Why?” Bam!
“Five sir.” She groans loudly but you sense the lust between the pain. “Because only you can make me good, and because I want to be your good girl.” Your finger slides between her thighs and finds moisture. Her labia are squeezed by her legs and Gemma winces more, than thrusts upward as your fingers touch her flesh.
“What would you do for me?” The next stroke is softer than before.
“Six Sir. Anything! I would do anything for my father. Ha… ha…”
“Even if you don’t know what I could ask of you?”
“Seven Sir! Yes Sir! My father makes the decisions.” Your lips settle on her hot skin, kissing it, spreading cooling saliva over it. Gemma purrs like a kitten. Then little droplets of saliva fly through the air as you strike hard. Three times.
“Your mother is not good company for you.”
“Eight nine and ten Sir… Ten Sir… Yes Sir, I know. I get it now. I… ha… ha… understand.”
“Your mother thinks she knows what you need.” An even stronger beat. Her legs bob up and little breasts press against your leg as you feel her belly tighten.
“Eleven Sir! Ouch… Yes sir… My… My mother doesn’t know…”
“Do you know what you want?” Your anger is clear. Your blows don’t let up and you can feel the heat under her skin. But Gemma stays on your lap like a good girl, taking her beating with loving pride.
“Twelve… hmpf… Sir.” Now she’s sobbing. “No Sir I don’t know what I wa-want. Only y-you know what I… ha… want.” That should be the next question. Gemma knows.
At that moment you decide that she is ready.
Writing Shark 