Bitch tricked me.

She should have killed me. She’ll regret that.

At the very least she should have immobilised me.

Testing each limb cautiously I determine that yes, I can move. I’m fine. I’m stronger than she knows. A groggy head won’t stop me. Daddy has made me go to sleep plenty of times. She barely even scratched me.

I hear her, sobbing a pitiful wail from corner of the playroom. Whimpers of a half dead creature wanting desperately to find a quiet place to lay down and die.

The sobs echo about the room in a rhythm, it reminds me of the baseline of the songs my Daddy sings by the fire. “Daddy” I mumble. He must be home soon.

I raise myself up from inside the tin tub. She leaps to her feet, tightly coiled ready to dart in the opposite direction from the one I choose.

Silly bitch where can you go?

She didn’t even begin to bathe me properly. I’m still covered in crusty blood and I reek of her piss. The bath was barely wet with water. Useless skank.

Leaning down I pick up the blunt chunk of metal she used to knock me out. Part of a contraption Daddy has been building.

“Oh, what happened to your fingers, little lamb?” the heady smell of blood is fresh on the cloth wrapped around her hands. “Did you try to get out? Did you claw at the door? Daddy locked it didn’t he? He’s a clever Daddy.”

My inner beast clamours for the blood, growling in response to the smell. Growls that become snarls and wet gnashing sounds when I land upon her, crashing down on her with my jaws wide and ready to tear at her deceitful flesh.

She’s strong but my bloodlust is stronger.

She tries to cry for help but I shove the metal in her mouth, cracking her teeth as she tries to resist. Biting down on her pale flesh I taste her blood, it swells in my mouth and I drink hungrily. Desperate, she presses her free palm against my face. Her fingers irritate me but nothing more. Growling low, I tear away a chunk of flesh.

Letting out muffled wails she stumbles back and collapses on the floor.

I tilt my head sideways and look at her curiously; what a funny creature she is. The last remnants of the blood drips from my chin as I slowly chew and swallow her sweet meat. If she hadn’t pissed herself dry she’d wet herself again no doubt. Pathetic.

Her last few words are the sweetest that I’ve ever heard her say.

“Please,” She begs, “just kill me now.”

I thought I’d tamed her but instead I pushed her too far. She acted on a compulsion to kill or be killed, she failed and now there’s nothing left for her. My words won’t work their magic, she’s running on base instinct, just a desperate animal, no good to me at all.

“Fine.” I reply plainly as she passes out on the floor.

I wonder what Daddy would think of her now, he thought she was so strong, that she had so much to offer me, that she would teach and care for me. What use is she now?….

I stare at her useless body splayed across the floor. I stare at her and I start to fret.

But, but…what if Daddy gets mad? I didn’t mean to break her, I only wanted to tame her and stop her from getting my Daddy treats. Maybe I bad? Was I selfish?

Will Daddy still love me?

She’s a mess now, everything he liked about her is broken. He won’t be expecting this. He wanted her for a purpose.

I will show him, I will make her pretty and still useful. I will make her pretty again and then he won’t be mad. Better work fast now. Better get it tidied up and ready for Daddy before he gets home.

Frantically I begin my tasks.

I drag her limp body and lay her out next to the tub. Scrambling over to Daddy’s desk I fetch some strong wire, the special sort, extra sharp for special girls. It works well, it binds her tight and presses deep into her skin. The pain brings soft groans from her whore mouth in her half awake state.

I feel the minutes flying by. Daddy will be home soon so I must be quick. I must make this a wonderful surprise.Driven by a desperation to please I try to focus on how happy he will be, singing it loud to drown out the fear, the chilling fear that I’ve done wrong.

“My Daddy will be so happy. My Daddy and me. My Daddy and me. Daddy and me and this pretty silly play thing. My Daddy and me….”

After a short while the singing stops and gives way to the dark thoughts inside. The monsters are waking and they whisper to me, they whisper my darkest fears and they’re getting louder.

The minutes become agonising, a mix of desire for Daddy to come home to see me working hard to please him and fear of what might happen if he gets home too soon.

Running about the playroom I put things back in their place and clean myself up. I grab a pretty little dress from my special pink wardrobe. There’s a beautiful pink unicorn on the door, one my Daddy painted especially for me. He’s such a good Daddy, doing so many things for me. Just me. His precious girl…. Such a good Daddy….

Thoughts of Daddy make me happy again. Singing to myself, I apply the ruby red lipstick I stole from her handbag. Neatly applying it to my little lips I look in my cracked mirror. “Perfect. See,” I sneer at the girl, “I can be pretty and you can be pretty too. Just like Daddy wanted.”

I smear thick lashings of lipstick over her now silent mouth. Big and red, just like a clown. “Pretty, just for Daddy.” I taunt, patting her cheek.

My words summon her awake. Curiously I watch as the memories begin to form. The fear cuts deep. I watch as she begins to struggle and wrestle, not registering the cutting wire at first. Not until it breaks the skin and sends bright red rivulets of blood twisting about her weak body.

I want to drink her blood. I want to fuck her face with my metal toy until all her little teeth are smashed out. I can’t though because I don’t have time I must make her pretty. I must make everything pretty, make it pretty and perfect for Daddy.

But it’s not perfect, she’s all broken and whimpering, moaning like a dying animal. Why won’t she shut up? Her miserable wail is insufferable.

“Be quiet!” I scream in resentment.

Where’s my Daddy, I want my Daddy. I’m tired now from dealing with that silly lady

Heaving with all my strength I overturn the tub. It lands with a heavy thud trapping her inside. She wails and begins to hammer at the wall of the tub.

I curse at myself. It’s made her louder not quiet like I thought.

She’s still too noisy and it’s making me cranky, it’s making the voices in my head louder to compensate. It’s so much, too much, shut up, shut up, shut up…

I stick my fingers in my ears and sing. I sing to drown her out. Sing to keep the voices at bay. Sing to keep me sane. Sing to stop my hands from wrapping that wire round my own throat.

“Hide behind the smiles.
Lie to make amends.
I’m not your little child.
I’m your one and only friend.
Treat me real good and try to keep me clean.
Fix my broken toys.
Mute me when I scream”

“What is going on?” A slap accompanies his words. Both harsh, designed to get my attention.

His hit brings me back to reality, snapping back into the here and now.

“Blade. Tell me.” His words plain, hard and demanding. He grips my collar and draws my attention back to him.

“Daddy! You’re home!” I rejoice. Squirming to get out of his vice grip that’s lifting me up, my feet dangling. I want to be in his arms. I desperately plaster a smile on my face, hoping to see his happiness reflected back..

He looks confused and throws me to the ground. I land with a wince and a pained cry as my ankle clicks loudly with the fall. “No Daddy wait..!” reaching out as he stomps across the room to the tub, still being pummelled with desperate little kicks.

Throwing the tub off the girl, he swoops down and lifts her so easily. The bandages around her hands completely stained red. Her skin so pale with blood loss, the blue of her lips showing through her messily applied lipstick. Her eyes insane and blind to the world. I like her better that way, like a doll.

“Explain.” He barks at me, laying the girl back on the floor as she fits and convulses.

“She hit me.” I begin to gabble at him, desperate for him to understand. “She hit me when she was supposed to be washing my hair. Like you said I should do. Listen to her you said and I did and she hit me with your metal thing from the desk.” My words come out relentlessly and I point at things as I explain and yammer intently.

“She was good before that Daddy, I made her good. I used my words and she was behaving and I was being good and we were being good but then she hit me! She hit me. I didn’t mean to be selfish Daddy. I just wanted her to be good and she was, she was being good but then she tricked me and I’m sorry I was stupid”

My words stream in a single wail, almost incoherent. “She tried to kill me Daddy so I broken her a little bit and I’m sorry and I didn’t mean to but I did make her pretty again. I made her pretty and, and… I made myself pretty for you Daddy, I did. I wanted to be a good girl for you. I tried to be a good girl. I try to be a good girl. A good girl for you Daddy. A good girl…”

The crux of his elbow around my throat soon silences me and I black out.

“Foolish girl, you could have had such a good life here with us. All you had to do was care for her like I do.” His words wake me from my slumber. The pretty lady is strung up to the pole. Daddy continues to talk to the corpse as he unties my wire and re-ties it as he pleases. At least I think she’s a corpse.

I lie there and watch. Not wanting to stir. Not sure if Daddy is still mad. Curious to see what Daddy is doing.

“You said you wanted a ballerina.” Daddy speaks to me, showing he knows I’m awake. Clever Daddy. “One like in the music box of the old lady we stayed with that first night together.”

“Yes…” I say cautiously. Was I not supposed to say I wanted a thing?

“Well its about time I made you one.” He continues, not turning to look at me as he ties one of her hands above her head. “A temporary one at least until we have space to make a better music box.”

His voice is soft and kind and fills me with happiness. My Daddy does love me!

The playroom is much cleaner and all the things back in their place. The girl wears a ballerina’s dress but no shoes. She looks pretty again, with the lipstick still smeared across her blue face.

“How about you help me finish dressing her?” Daddy offers.

In a flash I fetch my ballerina shoes and begin trying to put them on her cold limp feet.

“Stupid girl, your feet are too fat!” I say, taping her feet in disapproval. Giving up, I sit back and ponder.

“Make them fit then, precious.”

I squeal with excitement. How clever Daddy is.

“This little piggy went to market,” I say brightly as I tear off a toe with a crunch

Singing the rhyme to myself I meticulously remove each digit. “This little piggy stayed home.” Snap. “This little piggy had roast beef.” Rip. “This little piggy had none.” Crack. “And this little piggy…” Pop. “…went wee wee wee all the way home.”

Daddy and I sing the last line together laughing as I shove her last, big toe deep inside of her dry cunt. “Look Cinderella! Now the slipper fits!” I exclaim, clapping my hands with glee.

Stepping back we both look at our work. Gently Daddy prods the ballerina and she spins lazily around the pole. We made her pretty.

A brooding look hangs on Daddy’s face. The admiration Daddy held for her is gone.

“She does look pretty.” I say gratefully to Daddy, holding his hand. “I really didn’t mean to break her.” I add gently.

“It’s OK my precious darkling, you did really well, and look, she can still be useful.” he stops her spinning and pulls away the torn rags that cover her behind. “See here, she still has a couple of useful holes.” He points to each one, roughly jamming his fingers inside.

No longer seen as clever, or strong, with things to teach me, she is simply reduced to a couple of holes, one filled with Daddy’s cock now, held perfectly in place and pounded.

Daddy’s grunting with each thrust makes a warmth spread in my special place. I bite my lip and reach out to him.

He’s my Daddy and I’m still his special girl. I’m the one that gets his special treats. He pulls out of her and forces his hardness into my mouth, lowered to the right position by a firm hand on my neck. From my knees I close my mouth around him and receive my reward, hot and salty shot into my mouth, not wasting a drop.

I’m still his special Blade and he’s a very, very good Daddy.