Zille Defeu’s Fetish Fantasies

Lexie was happy to be coming home from school for summer holidays. Daddy had sent her off to such a strict school – the head, the teachers, the matrons; they all watched you like a hawk. Even Lexie was hard-pressed to get up to trouble there, and, anyway, the slightest infraction was far more soundly punished than she thought reasonable – or worth it. So she was looking forward to being able to relax a bit during the summer, get away with a few things. She had forgotten how strict Daddy could be….

The station was near Daddy’s house, and her luggage had been sent on ahead, so Lexie walked home, delighting in the early-summer late-afternoon. Freedom tasted so good! Ideas lazily meandered through her head for shopping trips, visits to friends, days at the beach … and some less wholesome activities – although honestly, all of the former could be combined with the latter to make them all the more fun!

She felt a pleasant nostalgia when she turned up the drive. She couldn’t wait to sleep in her own bed. And maybe Daddy would take her to dinner at her favorite pub to welcome her home.

She entered the house and called out, “Daddy! I’m home! Did you miss me!”

“Come into my study, Lexie,” he called back. Suddenly, things didn’t seem as bright as they had seemed moments earlier. She started to remember just how Daddy could be, but it was too late, now. She let her legs take her into the study, while her mind went over the possibilities, and what might now, even at this late date, be done to prevent them.

Daddy sat on his leather desk chair. He swiveled it to face her as she entered. She pretended everything was fine. “Hi Daddy! Everything went fine – the train was on time, and I had a nice walk home!”

“That’s nice, dear, but we need to talk.”

“I’m hungry, Daddy. Can’t we go get some dinner?”

“Later, Lexie. We need to discuss this first.”

She didn’t reply. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t get her in more trouble.

“Now, I’ve a letter from the head. It’s a summary of all the disciplinary actions they’ve had to take with you over the last term.”

What to say? “Yes and I’ve already been punished and there’s no need for more!” was courting disaster. “Yes, and I’ve learned all the lessons from them,” was too pert. “They were unfair!” wasn’t even an option. But while she was pondering these, he continued.

“There a good deal more on this list than I could have hoped, Lexie.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. Learning the new rules was hard.”

“I imagine it was, but you still don’t seem to have applied yourself very diligently.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“You don’t just answer to your teachers, Lexie, you also have to answer to me. Or did you forget that?”

“But, Daddy –”

“No ‘buts,’ Lexie. It’s time I reminded you of that. Get over my lap.”

“Daddy! I’m too old now!”

“No you are not, my girl, but even if you were, that would be all the more reason you’d have shown you need it. Now, get over here.”

There was no denying that tone of voice. Lexie obeyed, praying it was just a token spanking in her future, just a little reminder.

Daddy’s desk-chair had leather arms, and it made things a bit awkward to bend over, as well she remembered. It was not tall enough to bend over easily, so the only way to do it made her feel off-balance. She had to reach to the far arm, and pull herself forward while putting the crease of her hips over the near arm, then she had to let go and adjust herself so that her upper body was angled down to the floor. Once she was there, she felt Daddy’s hands on her, adjusting her. She felt every touch very intensely. Even more intensely, she felt him pulling her skirt up her back.

“Now, my girl, consider what you have done to end up like this, and what you could have done to prevent it,” he told her, and commenced the spanking. It was over her knickers, put they never afford much protection from blows. His hand hit one cheek and then the other, knocking the wind out of her on the first blow, and then she started breathing in time with them, and making little sounds to let Daddy know they hurt. Not overdoing it, but perhaps a bit exaggerated – it wouldn’t do to encourage him by being stoic!

He kept it up for a good long time. After a while she wasn’t overplaying her noises, they were all quite genuine, especially when he hit his hand like it was dead center on a target; the target in question of course being her turned-up bottom.

She noticed everything during times like these. His rhythm, or if he went off it, she could often guess right before his hand came back down just how hard it would hit. She felt him breathing. And, a hardness rising up against her stomach. She had forgotten about that. But her memories all came back now, and made her cry out louder at the next hit.

After that one, Daddy paused. But not to end the spanking. No, he reached to his desk and grabbed the lone leather slipper that sat on the edge. He sat back in the chair, and repositioned her slightly, making sure her bottom angled up as high as it could in the air. Then, she felt his fingers at either sides of her panties. Well, leaving the panties on had really been too good to be true. He tugged them down and she shivered and moaned quietly.

He heard it. “Now, girl, you know they must come down.” She didn’t answer, and he proceeded to use the slipper on her, getting long full slaps on each cheek, the upper part, the lower part, and those whacks that hit dead-on in-between the cheeks. Somehow, as the slippering progressed, more and more whacks hit right there. They always did.

She was panting and crying out with each hit by the time he stopped. He dropped the slipper. Was it over?

No – he stroked his fingers over her bottom. Of course it wasn’t over – not with that insistent pressure pushing up on her tummy. His fingers moved over her reddened flesh. “What a hot, red bottom you have now,” he told her, like she didn’t know, “A punished bottom.” She shuddered.

His fingers slid in circles ever closer to the area between her cheeks, and she knew what was next: a finger slid down to stroke the lips, and then slid slightly in between them.

“Girl, you’re wet.” It was all over now.

“I sent you off to school because I worried you were becoming a disobedient little slut. I see that my money and the good efforts of your teachers and matrons have all been wasted.” His fingers slid up and down the slit, moving her juices around, and then his thumb slid down and started pushing up into her. She panted with the effort of not making a sound. “Look at what a slut you are. Here I am trying to discipline you, and look at the result. What has turned you on, you slut? Was it having your naked bottom up in the air? Do you like that?” His finger started working inside her. He knew exactly what he was doing – his thumb curved right up to that spot, that place that when he stroked it she couldn’t help but respond the way he wanted. He kept it up until she lost control, and she couldn’t stop herself from crying out, and knew he felt her muscles spasm on his thumb.

“Well, that clinches it, my girl. You know you need to be punished. Get over the desk.”

She was still weak from the orgasm, and she was in no place to argue, or even respond. All she could do was drape herself over his desk, knowing what was coming next. She tried to relax.

“You know what happens to little sluts, girl,” he said, and his voice was very low and full of threat, “I’ve been trying to teach you, but you never learn.” She heard him open the bottle of lubricant, and then felt the cold lube being pushed into her bottom with his finger. “I’ve tried to teach you discipline time after time, my girl. But I will get the lesson across to you.” His finger pushed in and out a few times, and then withdrew.

“This is just to caution you, my girl, what happens to little sluts,” and she felt the slicked head of his cock pressing against her anus. Sometimes he would warm her up with his fingers for a while first, but obviously not this time. And he was so lubed up that he would slide in easily, no matter how tight and unready she was.

At the first thrust she cried out, as the discomfort increased dramatically. At the second, as the head of his cock pushed into her, she started crying. That was the wrong response, she remembered all too late. She felt the surge to his cock, felt it swell inside her, and he started moving his thrusts even faster. It always felt too big. She kept crying out, until she started hyperventilating, and then she just lay there and cried.

“That’s my girl. Oh, your ass is so tight. Take your Daddy’s cock into your tight little ass. That’s it. You’re learning what it’s like to be a slut. Sluts get it up the ass just. Like. This. Fucking your punished bottom, your hot, red bottom.”

He kept it up, pounding against her sore bottom, until she felt his rhythm change, and it got faster and harder. “That’s it, my girl, Daddy’s going to come in your ass. Just like a slut. All that hot come deep in your ass.”

His cock always swelled up a bit more right before he came, and of course she felt even the slightest change, felt him get bigger and harder, deeper inside her, and then felt him tense all over, and his cock jerk as, just as he promised her, his hot come shot out deep up into her ass.

[Daddy-and-me fantasies Part II ]

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