Protected: Babygirl’s Treat – A Storyboard Collaboration with Twitchet

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Protected: Daddy’s Home – A Storyboard Collaboration with Twitchet

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Dark Star, The Fifty-First Chapter – Gathering

The hay is scratchy through the material of my dress but I barely notice, mesmerised by the pretty girls dancing around the pole. Wrapping their ribbons this way and that. The fair buzzes around us, children laughing, pelting through the stalls and around the legs of adults drinking the all-important real ale and having conversations that burst into raucous laughter at the drop of a flat cap.

This is the nearest village, the one with the cosy pub and only store for miles around. Today is their May Fair, my first real fair and it’s so very exciting.

They’re starting to know us now, although it doesn’t worry Daddy like it did in the big cities. We tell them very little. I’ve learned that’s important. “No matter what they say Blade, just smile like a good girl.” So I do, I twirl my dress and I nod along to whatever they’re saying.

I don’t tell them where we live or what we do or how we came to be. But I do shake my head in mutual disapproval when they say, “That farm up the way, they used to bring their wares, you know… but how rude, they wrote us to say they don’t supply to us anymore. Tsk tsk.” I pretend to understand when they say they all shun them now based on letters received just after we arrived here.

“Two can play at that game.” The lady behind the till told me one day, shortly before slipping me a wink and an extra chocolate mouse in the paper-bag of goodies.

The kitty cat we adopted begged for them so prettily. They do that when mice are the only meal they can scavenge. “Like proper farm cats!” Daddy told me.

The lady waves at me as we pass, having set up a stall from her shop here in the field full of joyous celebration. There are lots of faces I don’t recognise too. “They come from the villages all around Blade.” Daddy whispers to me. Daddy knows so much.

I gaze up at him adoringly and almost walk full pelt into the nubile young thing in denim shorts. She’s dancing around in a circle of clones, the only difference the shade of plastic flowers in their hair.

“They come from all around,” Daddy explains, “for this…”

Gesturing at the handsome stage set up at the bottom of the field. It’s impressive, looking oversized in the humble field, with stacks of expensive looking equipment pushed to the side of the stage.

Right now there’s a solo singer and his guitar crooning into the microphone but it’s early still, not even the afternoon. I wonder what’s planned for later, who will put all the fancy amps to use.

Daddy pulls me to the side, under the shade of a tree and onto his lap. He speaks softly, directly into my ear. I listen intently, pretending not to be affected by his hand moving underneath my dress and wrangling my panties to one side.

“We’ve stumbled onto a gem my darkling… shhh now… don’t let them know, Daddy’s little secret… What we have here is an annual event, one that should be a tiny little village celebration, except of course, that every year, the band that made it big come back to play their home town.”

I squirm as he pushes rough fingers into the folds of Daddy’s flower. I don’t buck though, desperate as I want to. I keep my face calm. My dress spills out in a wide circle over my knees disguising the motion of Daddy’s hand inside of me.

“Thank goodness…,” he smiles, “for their misguided desire to stick to their roots.” He bites down gently now, making it look like a sweet kiss on my neck. A kiss with teeth.

“Thank goodness…” He laughs, “for the girls that follow them in flocks! Tonight my sweetness, those flocks become ours.”

A gasp from me gives away my closeness. “Wait.” He instructs, “….hold it.” Withdrawing too quickly and denying my release. “Not yet.” Daddy winks at me. “We have so much more fun to come.”

The fair provides all manner of innocent entertainment, hooking ducks, smashing plates and various shows provided by the local schools. The weather blooms into glorious afternoon sunshine, lubricating the alcohol flow and encouraging exposed skin, turning gently pink. Daddy keeps me in the shade mostly, watching, licking on ice lollies and sampling from the baking competition.

I’m confused when Daddy leads me away before the main event, as the field gets increasingly flooded with the same brand of teenage girl, all eager rampant hormones. The clothes get skimpier as they get older, much to the dismay and tutting of the village elders who slip away to the pub when the music begins to creep up.

“Why aren’t we staying Daddy? I like the music. I want to seeeee.” I complain, quick to correct myself. “Please, sir, if we may?” He simply shakes his head and continues on the path.

I recognise where we’re headed, it’s the same campsite we’ve been to before, the only one for miles around with occasional opportunity for play-friends. Daddy finds them, the drifters, camping on their own, the ones that won’t be missed. My Daddy could charm the birds from the trees if he chose to.

I recognise the entrance but I don’t recognise what lies within, there’s a whole other party here, tents fill the entire field, for as far as the eye can see. Music blasts from various points, the music lapping over each other like walking through a festival. Their inhabitants must be at the fair, besides the few crashed out under gazebos and tucked away in tents.

“This Blade, is where we gather our flock.”

I clap with glee. Daddy has done to so much work to prepare the studs, the bulls to breed our little farm. I’m eager for the patter of tiny paws, for baby animals to care for. Daddy has prepared me; it will be a lot of work, a lot of TLC for the animals. “Rearing isn’t for the faint hearted” He’d warned me, “You’ll have to be careful with them, not like your toys. These will be our livestock, our future.”

Confused I turn to face him, “But Daddy,” I query with innocent eyes. “How will we fetch them? We have no supplies, no rope, no shackles. How will we make them come?”

“With this, my sweetling.” He explains, opening his bag to reveal rows of little teeny plastic baggies with rocks of varying sizes filling them up.

“Love potion!” I exclaim. I remember this, I remember this from the city. Oooooh, this is exciting. This is different from usual, a new approach. Persuasion rather than coercion.

Sweeping in with the charm offensive Daddy finds an older girl with a big cigarette that smells funny hanging from between her fingers, she looks like she might be sleeping, slumped in the chair. That is until she pulls it to her mouth and takes a drag. She engages with my Daddy, of course she does, and she seems very interested in what he’s selling.

“Yeah fam,” I hear her begin, “We’ve been here for a few days ready for the gig, stocks are bare low. I know peeps that will buy for sure.” Without dismissing him she takes to her mobile, attached to a square device presumably to keep her connected out here in the sticks. She uses a vernacular I barely understand but manage to gather from context that we should wait.

She’s quite pretty really, with supple smooth legs and porcelain skin under the crochet top that barely covers her modesty. She finally removes her sunglasses to allow Daddy close enough to kiss her. She makes eye contact with me first, encouraged by my nods and smiles.

We don’t bother to move inside to privacy, the campsite deserted as it is and the warm sun turning tents into saunas at this time of day. Daddy continues to kiss her, tugging gently at her nipples, easily freed from the flimsy top. With a nod of consent I begin kisses up her thigh, she’s very open, keen to encourage us both. She even pulls her skirt up to allow my access, soft kisses where her underwear should be. She moans quietly, clearly accustomed to this kind of encounter, she’s barely phased at these strangers and their advances. I wonder if Daddy’s little sample is helping.

He provides a little more, a tiny white wrap with a tail that doesn’t even touch the sides. Her enlarged pupils engulf me as she pulls me in for a passionate kiss, one hand firmly under my jaw and the other attempting to free Daddy from his jeans.

I help her, like Daddy’s good girl. I help her with the buttons and then I help her by demonstrating, showing her how to move her tongue, combine it with her hands, synchronised on either side. She learns quickly, copying my deft movements.

Her throat is well trained too, she doesn’t hesitate in taking him all as I bury my licking tongue between Daddy’s legs. He keeps an encouraging hand on each of us, murmuring a quiet “Good girls”.

I’m sure her fingers working their way under my dress would be just as expert but I don’t get the opportunity to find out before we’re interrupted, her mobile emitting a jarring bleeping. “Sorry…” she offers, withdrawing her inquisitive hands to take the call.

Daddy kisses me deeply, praising my part in our seduction. “My clever girl.” he whispers as the girl yammers. Once again her vocabulary is alien to me, not that I want her words, my now bucking hips want her body, pressed up against me and writhing. I want to bite and scratch through her perfect skin and hear her scream with sweet agony…

It distracts my mind as I try to focus in on her words. Luckily Daddy demonstrates more control, tucking his still ragingly hard cock away subtly as they converse.

Our new farm family are on their way back.

We hear them before we see them in the fading light of the setting sun. Whooping and riled up, still singing the most popular of songs from the local-act-done-good. The move like a swarm, clearly imbibed on the indulgences of the fair. The smell of cheap cider buzzing around them.

Brazen in their approach, you’d forget that the transactions were illegal. Their openness and enthusiasm for consuming the happy medicine amuses me. In the most hedonistic of acts they seem determined as a collective to drain the resources completely dry. “Yolo” and “Fuck it!” thrown around as toasts to the volume thrown down their throats.

They barely take any persuading to move up to the farm in the morning, those that have stricter homes and curfews already having left to catch the only bus to the nearest train station in the early hours. “Ain’t no one expecting me,” smiles one boy, with his arms wrapped around two girls in a state of undress. Daddy’s special rocks had the desired effect, inhibitions don’t exist in their world right now.

They look to Daddy as their leader, the provider of what they desire. They look to him with collective reverence. “We have vast fields up there, you can camp for as long as you like, stay as long as you choose. Let’s keep the party going.” The last message received with a cheer and a gentle scramble to begin gathering belongings.

Our little flock, voluntarily making their own way up to our forever home. Daddy takes them the long way, so as to avoid prying eyes. We don’t use the main entrance but come via the very fields being offered. Fields that they quickly set up in, sharing food, making their camp for the night and eagerly awaiting the promised batch of new supplies in the morning; Daddy waving away any offer of money.

“My gift to you,” he smiles, further increasing the adoration beaming from the congregation.

I clap with glee as Daddy carries me up the field towards home, the cosy cottage with our big bed, welcomed after a night of revelry. “Oh Daddy,” I squeal, safely out of hearing distance, “they’re going to be so happy here. We can train them and breed them and make them such an obedient flock. They’re quite obedient already and so excited for everything!”

“Yes, my Blade.” Daddy says softly, “This is exactly what I’ve been seeking. Good, docile animals to show you the gift of life. We can start straight away, I’m prepared and they’re even better than I could imagine” He looks over the at the bulls in their cages, rampant and pawing at the ground.

“Yes,” Daddy goes on, “This is the simplicity I want for us. We have our flock gathered my Darkling. Now real farm life can begin. All under my charge.”

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Dark Star, The Fiftieth Chapter – Snowing

“Fetch me another one.”

That’s what Daddy said to me. The last words he’ll ever say to me.

Soon you’ll be dead. The voice calls out from the darkness of my mind. The beast is awake again.

Chill bites at my skin. It burns to touch. Shivering, I try my best to wrap myself up warm in my little princess dress. My ballet shoes are little protection against the white frosted ground.

I did as he bid. I went into the cold to get Daddy another body. “A small one, yay high.” I remember him measuring his hand up against me – shoulder height. So I’d know exactly how tall the next one should be.

The next piece in Daddy’s grand master piece.

“We’ll build the most beautiful toy.” Daddy explained to me with wide gesturing arms. I didn’t quite understand his vision. A big ball of snow. A world made by us for our own pleasure. It sounded magical. My Daddy is magical. He can do whatever he sets his mind to.

Then why isn’t he here for you now? Taunts from the dark.

I won’t give up on him. It wasn’t pretend. He loves me, I know it. He will protect me, I believe it. My Daddy will save me. Just like he always does. He saved me from the boys, from the toxic city and from the freezing cold of our yard. He will save me now.

It should only have taken a minute. Open the door, leave the latch on and run into the cold to retrieve one from our secret store.

Silly girl forgot the latch.

With a crack the door closed behind me, taking the warmth and light of our home with it. Leaving me here in the freezing cold.

“How long has it been?” I mutter to myself as another dizzy sway takes hold.

Hunching down even smaller I realise that my fingers have turned that beautiful blue of our captured creatures. I am blending in with the meat that hangs from the hooks above. Faint blue shadows swaying the breeze.

You’ll be one of them soon. My fate declared by the night.

“Shut up!” I croak with a misty cough. I’m just doing a Daddy trick. I’m camouflaging myself. Keeping myself safe from the monsters in the dark while Daddy comes to rescue me.

I can still see you… We see you suffering.

“Shut up!” I mouth silently. My voice taken by the freezing cold.

My vision blurs and flickers. The dark shapes of swaying trees and monsters and glittering eyes spark in and out of view.

In a heartbeat I am back in the yard, back under the jets of freezing water. How did I get here?

There’s Daddy, pointing the hose at me, washing my sins away. A baptism of agony.

Looking down, the clumps of the dead wash away with the blood. Is that my blood? Is my flesh falling off? I don’t feel myself anymore. How did I get here?

I can’t stop it, I can’t stop him and he doesn’t stop.

Why won’t he stop?

The track replays, the freezing water, the feeling of helplessness, deeper and deeper I’m consumed by the memory. It plays on and on, a living nightmare. I’m there again and I can’t get out.

The pain is unbearable. The cold bites at my everything, I feel my skin cracking, my lips splitting open.

Why is Daddy hurting me? Why is my Daddy hurting me?

Closing my eyes has no impact, the vision still rolls on. Daddy reigning his arctic blast of a lesson over my fragile skin. I feel my bones shatter.

Why is my Daddy hurting me?

“You’ve seen this before.” the voice whispers, the beast has a different prey these days.

Or is it a different beast all together?

“You’ve seen it in how he treats them, the pets, the worthless meat-sacks. What makes you think you’re any better? That you’re different? That he won’t discard you like the poor fools who fail at his tasks?”

I’m failing. I’m failing right now. I failed.

How could Daddy hurt me?

“And this is how you die.” The voice explains as I’m stuck between two worlds, each with an all consuming painful delirium. I fight against the jets of water, flailing my hands in front of me, but it has no impact on the memory, the blast continues on.

Daddy’s torture.

“I took everything for Daddy.” I reassure myself, he loved me with his fists, tore me with his teeth and ripped me open with hardness that ached for days. I bled, screamed and suffered for him. Now I die for him.

Maybe then I’ll be good enough.

“Blade!” I hear Daddy’s roar from afar. White light blinds me. A warmth burns my skin. “Blade! The latch! I said…” I hear his sermon booming out loud above the tinkling voices of angels. “You could have died locked in the chiller.”

I shrug. “As it is meant to be.” I try to tell the vision in front of my eyes. The cold steals my words. My lips crack. I can’t even cry. It doesn’t matter anyway, figments of my twisted imagination have no hearing, no sympathy.

Unable to fight, even as warm hands scoop me up, I succumb to the cold.

I watch Daddy at work from the comfort of my nest, wrapped up in a thick woolly blanket next to the golden roaring fire. Every inch of me is covered in woollen clothing, I’m the epitome of mollycoddled.

He works with fast hands and deft fingers. My Daddy is so clever, building a whole new world just for us. Perhaps this world will be better, the last one was painful… I remember.

At least, I thought I did. Like the memory is just out of my reach.

I remember something, something I’ll need to think about soon.

Something I don’t want to recall.

I’m scared, although I don’t know what of.

Don’t think of it, just be good.

My heart races and I listen hard to the man’s actions, stacking lumps of flesh into the glass globe. I don’t know who he is, but I know him.

Do I know him?

“Ta da….!” He turns around with a flourish and hits a button at the bottom of the creation. Little frosty flakes mingle with glitter inside the glass bauble, they float around the human shapes, frozen in time and expression.

“It’s a snow globe Blade. A little family in a magical world. Just for you.”

Blade. That’s me. But that’s not my name.

What is my name? What was my name?

This is not my house and the people in that globe are not my family.

I’m a long way from home. I think.

How did I get here?

I want to go home. I think.

How did I get here?

“Thank you Daddy.” are the words that leave my mouth. Scripted words, pre-determined, my auto-response to his stimulus.

He beams at me. “That’s my good girl.”

I relaxed. Comforted. The backing track of distraction, of the thing I must remember and yet don’t wish to, can’t wish to, can’t cope with; the source for the crippling anxiety that wrenches my gut and screams to run, it melts away.

From within there is a silence, a proverbial lid closing, a heavy steel box with top firmly closed, never to be shifted. Was there some kind of animal here..? He is caged now.

That is all I must know. That I am good. That I am a girl. Just a girl with no cares in the world.

I am Daddy’s girl.

It is my part in this act and I commit to the role, I know the script and I read along. I do as he asks. I part my legs as he moves towards me, ready to take my praise and gratitude. I give it, bountifully, appreciative for the silence he affords. This man, who built this world just for me.

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Dark Star, The Forty-Ninth Chapter – Bargaining

This one will be a good one. He took much longer than the others. Fought back harder.

Daddy had to get the chains for this one.

Perhaps it’s because he’s older than the other pets. I wouldn’t call this one a boy.

You can see his mind working. All the time processing, looking, searching for an escape.

When he thinks we’re not watching, when Daddy gets distracted and turns his attention to me instead, I still see him plotting his next move. I catch glimpses in between Daddy’s thrusts.

When he thinks I’m not looking, I see him pulling at the restraints, testing anchor points, feeling around the floor, using the small amount of mobility he’s been granted to feel around. What is he looking for? A weapon? He won’t find any.

His words are the most clever, the most telling of his desire to survive. I like it. But then is that the point? What he was aiming for? The way he pleaded with us, telling us his name over and over, explaining his life, his wife, the love he has for his children. He made himself more human.

Now he’s real, he has a background, a story.

His death will really mean something.

To someone.

Maybe even to me.

Good.

The blood arcs in beautiful crescents across the floor.  The spray deep red against the bleached floorboards. Daddy’s painting with his fists again. Daddy’s making music with his fists again.

The sight, the sound, the smell; it stirs something within me. Something I know well. The beast Daddy looks to tame. It seems to stir something within the man too, a reaction somewhat opposed to my own. The fear of a man encountering something terrifying for the first time. Struck dumb and white.

Hasn’t he ever seen himself bleed before?

Could he really have lived a life so rosy that this is the first time he’s ever faced his own mortality? The very real acknowledgement that we are just bundles of meat and bones, fragile and fleeting, especially under Daddy’s charge.

There’s nothing quite like the sight of a man who’s seen his own bile for the first and last time. That, Daddy tells me, is what life really looks like.

The panic sets in, manifesting in a physical response that would border on violent were he not so well restrained. The chains rattle noisily against his futile attempts.

A well placed strike to the temple brings some respite. Eyes rolling back, the man is quiet for a moment.

A quiet moment for Daddy and I to share. His blood soaked fist brought to my mouth to lap up. A blood soaked fist that becomes a claw, pinning me up against the wall. Daddy’s face just inches from mine as he pushes deep inside. Daddy’s face consumed with the darkness that takes him, his pupils so large I feel myself lost in them, lost in him. Lost in the lust that wraps around us. Lust that muffles the senses and clouds the world outside. Outside of us. Outside of this moment. Outside of our reality.

Moans signify the man’s awakening. Conscious once more and trying a different tact. When the man finds his words he uses them, overcoming the lisp from swollen lips he pleads with us, tries to befriend us. “I’m just like you,” he promises, “We can be friends. You seem like good people”

Words that are largely ignored. Daddy is waiting, biding his time. Enjoying this one. No words could possibly work on my Daddy, he will have his satiation, his dark thirst quenched. It’s the least this pathetic meat sack can do.

Then a sentence that finally gets Daddy’s attention. “I’ll do anything… please.”

Daddy releases me, girl parts still aching from his vigorous loving he drops me to the floor. “Tell me more…,” he requests, turning his attention to the man. The sudden shift in Daddy’s attention clearly scares the man but his survival instinct is too strong to let this hook go. He attempts to reel Daddy in.

“I promise I have contacts. I can get you anything you want. I know people.”

“FUCK what you can get me…,” Daddy growls at him. “What would you DO now, right now?”

“Anything. Anything,” the man stammers.

“Anything?” Daddy queries, convinced by the man’s enthused nods. He means it.

I smile. Daddy is so clever. I’ve seen this before, all of this. Daddy will find a way to surprise them. He always does. He takes special pleasure from shocking even the most desperate of men. ‘It’s like peeling away the last morsel of their pathetic “humanity”… their pathetic self-deceit, Daddy told me.

I focus now, to see what Daddy sees.

“Then take her,” Daddy instructs, vaguely gesturing towards me.

“Daddy!” I exclaim. I don’t want that vile man inside me. Inside Daddy’s cunt. That’s not his.

“Wha… wha…?” the man begins but is soon cut off by Daddy’s cool words. “If you want to be free. Fuck her. Take her. Rape her. You said you’d do anything.” His words slowing. “Show. Me.”

Gauntlet thrown. I am the key to this man’s freedom. Me and my extreme lack of consent.

Any colour left in the man’s face quickly drains. He looks sick to his stomach. Sickness I echo. My skin crawling at the thought of him touching me.

I must do as Daddy requires, I remind myself. I click into my internal revolving mantra of “Daddy knows best”, the soundtrack to his good girl. It battles to be heard above the increasingly noisy objections of a beast who refuses to be subjugated.

Daddy rests his hands behind his back and waits, watching the man process this challenge, completely cool in his observation. His eyes flicker briefly in my direction, no love registering on his face, no acknowledgement of the message I desperately attempt to convey.

Please Daddy. Please don’t make me do this… Not again.

The clown’s face flickers across my vision. The fat puppet’s face too. The gang of boys lurch into view, jeering and cruel. They all begin to sing a slurred chorus in the depths of my mind.

“He doesn’t even give a fuck.” whispers the beast.

I ignore it and turn up my mantra, shouting internally “Daddy knows best… Daddy knows best… Daddy knows best…”

“He didn’t stop those boys.” whispers the beast. “He doesn’t even want to protect you.”

“Not true.” I shout back, closing my eyes shut and clamping my hand over my mouth to keep the argument from spilling out. “Daddy got them for me, we stopped them forever.”

“But now he’s going to let that vile little man put his man-parts inside you and it’s going to hurt… oh how it will hurt, he’s going to hurt you and Daddy’s going to let him.” Words slipping into a sing-song rhyme that wins the battle for air-time in my mind.

“He’s going to hurt you and Daddy’s going to let him… He’s going to hurt you….”

“NO!”

“No, no, no, no, no, no.”

My eyes remain closed as the beast takes over. His “No” booming around the room, spoken in my voice…

…Eternity passes…

…and no time at all.

I blink, I think. Or maybe I sleep.

Everything is the same…

…and different.

I feel like a shard has snapped of the edge of my mind.

The world hits me smack in the senses. It’s jarring and refreshing.

I don’t see the beast’s protective actions but I feel them as I wake, aching deep into my muscles. But not from my cunt, that’s taken no abuse. “And nor shall it.” warns the beast before skulking into his resting place within.

The room is different. The light has changed. The air tastes different. Everything is different. I feel lost in myself and struggle to know who I am. All I feel is a struggle with myself and the dark shadow of my beast inside. I hope it’s still inside.

Maybe I allowed the beast off the leash? Or maybe I was just too weak to fight? Maybe I needed him? Just this once.

Everything is confused. Everything is so absolute.

I know the beast is bad because he says bad things about Daddy and Daddy says we should tame him and Daddy is always right but… maybe he protected me, just this once, maybe that would be OK and I wouldn’t get in trouble. Maybe the beast isn’t all bad. Maybe he doesn’t need to be tamed, if he helps me and protects me…

“Maybe you’ll understand?” I say as I stroke my Daddy’s face, my quiet words are hopeful but receive no response from either of the bodies in the room.

I look at Daddy’s face, or the poor imposter that it could be. Daddy’s face is warm and vibrant and full of rose tints. This face is sharp, cold and blue. Like Daddy’s face through a warped mirror in winter.

I turn away, uncertain. I turn away and see that wretched man.

The man couldn’t do me any harm now, if he could be identified as a man at all. The chains were sharp in places, still buried deep into his severed flesh.

I’ve been here before.

I give my Daddy’s body a once over, relieved to find him free from blood and broken bones. The deadness in his eyes at odds with his fine physical form. If we didn’t hurt him, why does he look so disappointed, so vacant?

I’ve been here before.

He rises and leaves the room slowly, stopping at the door to survey the massacre. He shakes his head and steps out, calling behind him “I’ll send another to clean up. Perhaps they can learn a lesson even if you can’t.”

I’ve been here before.

This time I don’t rush out after him. I follow with calm, measured pace.

“If I can’t”? Daddy’s words play on repeat in my head. What does that mean?

Daddy moves like a panther stalking prey, pacing the frosty yard in front of me as I make my way back to the cottage, desperate to clean the remaining lumps of potential rapist from my hair. I brace myself for the pounce that never comes.

The adrenaline continues to course as I discard my clothes in the porch, another bag for the incinerator, too damaged to be reused. Too full of former human.

My heart races, it brings the benefit of being incredibly focussed, careful not to mark anything with the crimson liquid dripping from my sodden hair as I skip on tiptoes into the bathroom.

But I don’t get to luxuriate in a hot bath, or enjoy a refreshing warm shower. I am not treated to the cleansing rinse I so desire.

I regain consciousness in the yard. Outside the barn that houses the increasing number of pets we’ve been adopting. I hear them, they’re getting increasingly antsy, they do that when Daddy’s nearby, they’re not sure of him yet even though I defend him all the time. I explain his lessons. Some of them try to use their words to poison me but they just don’t know yet…

“Daddy knows best,” my internal monologue spoken out loud by the Daddy in question. My Daddy… my Daddy who is holding a hose pointed right at me and set to jet.

He washes me me down with freezing water. The blood runs away, the water getting increasingly clear.

The colder I get, the more it hurts.

Daddy shouts to make himself heard above the roar. “I’ve had enough Blade. I am not accepting your beast as an excuse anymore. You will obey me. You will show your love for me. You will do as you are told. You will be my good girl or so help me g…. or so help me, I will punish you, as often and for as long as it takes.”

Punish? My Daddy teaches me lessons, he doesn’t punish me.

He shuts off the painful power spray and wraps me up in a large towel, quickly carrying me into the warmth of the cottage, sitting us both in front of the fire. My skin explodes from the change in temperature, burning hot and tender. “It’s OK my darkling, my special princess, I’ve saved you. No more freezing water now, you’re all clean. You’re all warm now. You’re all better. Daddy’s got you.”

Daddy snaps back into focus. I feel his presence like a wall of heat and I’m overwhelmed with emotion. Emotion that bursts out in sobbing tears.

My skin is sore to the touch, even though Daddy uses lots of his special wetness-maker, the one that comes with a pump; the one I’m allowed only when he chooses, when needs to use his cunt over and over. It still hurts. Pain that mingles with pleasure, pain that bursts with love, my Daddy’s love.

“I was never going to let him hurt you.” Daddy explains as he gently and slowly pushes inside.

My stomach drops. I made a mistake.

“I had a lesson Blade,” Daddy goes on, “It was an important lesson in learning people’s minds. In learning about how to work them, how to use them. How to push them. Learning what motivates them. I wanted to show you… and now I can’t. And it’s your fault.”

I close my eyes against the debilitating regret. What have I done?

“Now you want to be my good girl don’t you?” Daddy asks, building me closer to release.

I nod, desperately “Please Daddy, please forgive me.”

“Then I expect complete obedience from you. Don’t disappoint me again. You will trust me. You will learn my lessons and in return I will love you.Like this. ” He slides a hand in between us, the one that gets me so close.

“You want your Daddy to love you, don’t you my darkling?” Daddy offers.

“Yes Daddy, yes I do.”

“Then you will bring yourself under control. We will have no more mistakes like this.You will not fail me again. If you fail, I will punish you. If you fail, how can I love you? And I want to love you.”

The beast stirs from his slumber but I reign him in. I cage him in the blossoming orgasm that takes me. This. This is what I want. This and to be loved and to be forgiven and oh Daddy…

As the pleasure consumes me, all pain is forgotten and I pledge in that moment. “Yes Daddy, I will give you my everything. I will be everything you want me to be. You are my everything as I am yours.” Flying on the bliss of our connection I am certain this is right.

Daddy knows best.

Daddy will teach me how to work people like he can.

Daddy is my world and I know I can be good for him.

As long as Daddy loves me, everything is OK.

As long as I’m being good Daddy will love me.

Daddy knows best.

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