“Daddy!” The little shriek pierces the night air over the crackle of fireworks.

Clay makes a shushing sound, holds our toddler son tight to his chest, and points to the sky. “Look, quickly, before it’s gone.”

Lucas little fists clench in Clay’s shirt, but he looks up and his mouth falls open.

I grin and rest my head on my husband’s shoulder. “It’s so pretty, isn’t it?”

Lucas nods, and I breathe in a breath of Clays clean, crisp cologne mixed with toddler smell. Warmth washes over me.

I smile. Clay is an even better father than he is a “Daddy”, which is saying something.

Another crackle snaps through the night.

“Make a New Year’s wish, Lucas,” Clay whispers.

Lucas shuts his eyes. His whole face wrinkles. “Puppy!”

A laugh bubbles out if me. “We have Dixie.”

At her name, Dixie let’s out a huff and stands up.

Lucas squints, and he points to Dixie. “Dog.”

Clay chuckles. Our kid is way too smart. “You’re going to have a little sister to play with soon enough.”

The warmth inside me explodes, and I hold myself closer to Clay. My rounded belly presses to his hip.

“Mommy, wish?”

I blink and look at Lucas. “Yes, I wished for Daddy.”

Clays sharp intake of breath whooshes close to me. He knows exactly what I’ve just said. I never call him Daddy in front of Lucas—because when I do I’m slammed into that role that has nothing to do with him being a father. So, I keep them separate, and I say things like, “ask your Daddy”.

I let my gaze slip to Clay.

But Jesus I miss it.

His jaw clenches and he looks me over and the need palpitating in his expression tells me that he does too.

Work and a child and early pregnancy sickness curbed our play.

My nails dig into his shoulder.

But I crave our special time. The sharp bite of pain he mingles with pleasure. The control he exercises over my chaotic mind.

“It’s bedtime, Lucas.” Clay keeps his attention focused on me. “It’s a lot past bedtime for Mommy, too.”

I gulp. Since falling pregnant Clay has been strict on me getting enough sleep. It’s one of the few things disobeying will earn me punishment for.

Not funishments either. Actual punishments that I won’t like.

Like going to bed an hour earlier the next day.

But, it’s New Years Eve…I assumed tonight was an exception?

He turns back to the house to put our son down for the night.

My heart hammers. “Come on, Dixie.”

I usher her back into the house and lock up then wash my hands and face, strip, put on a lacy pink nightgown, and grab one of Clays belts from the wardrobe, then finally, sink to my knees in front of the bed.

The door clicks open.

My heart hammers louder. Two shiny black shoes enter my vision. I don’t look up, keeping my gaze on the ground in front of me, hands on my knees like a good girl.

He stops at the folded belt.

I swallow. That was cheeky and presumptuous of me. I don’t get to choose the pain he decides to deliver any more than I’m allowed to choose the pleasure.

Sometimes though…sometimes if I’ve been a very, very good girl, he’ll take suggestions into consideration.

The belt stays where it is, but he removes his shirt then crosses the room. I hear the click and it’s all I can do to sit still.

He’s at the toy box…

And I have no idea what he’ll torment me with today.

The jingle reaches my ears.

I shiver. Chains.

A hand fists in my hair, and my chin jerks up. I get a glimpse of Daddy’s face.

He’s panting.

My tongue gets dry.

“I don’t want any noise tonight. Understand, baby?” He stares down at me, his hungry gaze devouring the sight of me on my knees. “You’re going to be very quiet, or else.”

Or else.

A shiver ripples along my arms. “Yes, Daddy.”

He guides me forward with his hand in my hair, until I’m kneeling in front of the bed, facing the iron footer. I know what to do before having to be told and grasp the rails.

A gasp leaves me as the first shackle is buckled into place. I close my eyes, squirming. Anticipation itches through me. Chain clinks against metal then the other shackle is secured and it raises me higher on my knees.

I inhale through my nose.

“Isn’t this pretty?” A soft touch brushes my back.

The flimsy material of my nightgown lifts, exposing my thighs, my butt. He draws my hips back.

His hiss sends a twitch down my spine. “What have I told you about not wearing panties?”

I bite my lip between my teeth.

“You can answer, baby.” He strokes the side of my hip.

I clench my pussy. “Only horny, slutty girls don’t wear panties.”

A sharp slap lands on my butt cheek. “That’s right, and we know what happens to horny, slutty girls.”

I moan. Oh, I freaking know. Another slap lands. A yelp escapes me.

He stops, and I feel his withdrawal from me with every sense. “If you can’t be quiet, baby, then we’ll have to do this my way.”

My heart flips over. “No, Daddy, please, I’ll be quiet.”

I glance over my shoulder, he freezes mid-way to the toy box. Shit. Not only was it too late, but I just sealed my fate with that outburst.

He continues on.

The whimper is out before I can suppress it. I stare back at my hands. The ball gag lowers in front of me. I know better than to resist and open my mouth. This toy is so embarrassing. It makes me drool all over myself. It wedges behind my teeth.

I try to relax my jaw around it so I don’t end up with an ache.

He leaves me again, this time collecting the belt I left behind.

I moan against the ball, drool already working down my chin, reminding me what a filthy girl I am.

The first blow on my thighs is soft. And the next and the next. Warming my skin with soft jolts. The impact gets sharper, biteier. Until I’m squirming, and groaning. Until, those sweet chemicals Daddy’s pain gives me light up my nerves, sending me shooting in something close to orgasm.

Spit dribbles down my throat. He stops. I sag against the restraints.

“Good girl.” His rich voice soothes me. He unfastens the cuffs. “You’re such a good girl.”

He lays me down on my back and spreads my thighs wide.

I no longer have the energy to do anything except comply.

He shoves the nightgown up over my breast to my armpits. Now it’s his turn to groan. Pregnancy has filled out my tits, and Daddy loves it. He undoes his fly and his cock springs free.

My hips grind against the carpet. I can’t wait anymore. I’m so hungry for him. My gaze devours his muscular chest and thick arms. Thick arms that can carry and crush me.

The ball fills my mouth, preventing me from begging.

But the pleas are right there on my tongue.

He takes his cock in hand and runs it over my slit. My hips twist, seeking more. “Look how soaked, my horny, slutty girl is.”

My moan leaks around the gag. I am soaked. Shamefully soaked. For Daddy’s cock.

He pushes in, stretching me, filling me.

Then hold right there, and rests his huge hand on my cunt. His thumb rubs my clit. I clench my pussy around him, increasing the blissful pressure.

He works me until I’m squirming. “Not yet, Baby.”

I breathe out all the air in my lungs, but still the feeling builds.

He reaches his other hand for my belly and rubs. “Look at you. Breeding for Daddy, my good little slut.”

I howl against the gag. Those dirty words, and the feeling of being stuffed full, and his thumb pressed to my clit—hurtle me to an undeniable peak.

“Now,” he commands and moves his thumb.

I explode, whole body convulsing. Cunt contracting around Daddy’s big dick.

He laughs—laughs. He’s so mean.

I shudder on the floor. Drool covers my chest. Moisture trails my cheeks.

He waits for the twitching to stop—then I get to see it happen. He lets go, grabs my hips and fucks me.

Daddy slams his cock into me, again and again and again. Until his muscles clench. His jaw tightens. Until his gaze rips over me as though he’s going to tear me to pieces. He leans over me and unfastens the gag, and then his mouth is over mine. No need for a gag. His mouth devours my screams and moans.

He gets harder inside me, and the feeling builds again. I clench and come. Heat fills me. He lets out a deep groan, and collapses onto his forearm—not squishing me.

Not crushing me.

No matter how rough, how cruel, or how brutal, Daddy always takes care of his girl.

I wrap my arms around him. “Happy New Year, Daddy.”