23 - Grey
Fiona's lucky I don't just spank her ass right here and now. I'm tempted. Real fucking tempted. The only reason I don't is because on the way to this room they gave us a huge speech about consent and making sure that anything that happens behind closed doors is acceptable and agreed upon by both people.
Well yeah, that's kind of fucking obvious, don't you think?
The point being that if I bend Fiona over the bed and spank her ass it's bound to get loud. Mostly from my hand smacking against her ass, but also she's been known to get, uh... a little exuberant? Seriously, it's the hottest thing I've ever heard. You haven't lived until the girl of your dreams is letting out little squeaks and yelps and moans when you spank her for being a bad girl.
It's not like I hurt her. I would never hurt Fiona. I mean, her ass probably stings a little afterwards, but she's also wetter than the inside of a bottle of water, so...
Also, let's take a step back for a second. As annoyed as I am about this whole frat party bullshit and the auction thing, I'm glad they take everything seriously and talk to people about consent and not being a huge fucking idiot. Everyone should be a decent human being, but some people just aren't, and those people deserve a massive punch to the face.
I'm still not very happy with this whole Sigma Epsilon Chi incident but I'll at least give credit where credit is due. They deserve a little credit. Not a lot, just a little. Charles is still here, even though I haven't seen the little shit, and... yeah, I'm wearing a mask, so I can kick his ass without getting into too much trouble afterwards.
I'm probably not going to do that, but I reserve the right to do it if he even so much as tries to talk to Emily and Fiona.
Anyways, let's get back to the matter at hand, which is Fiona and her impending punishment.
I step close to her while she watches me, her eyes trembling behind her white mask. She stares up at me, lips parted slightly, vague recognition in the way she looks at me.
Slow, I slide my fingers under her chin and tilt her head up slightly. I lean forward as if I'm about to kiss her and her eyes close instinctively, lips ready and waiting for mine.
"Fiona," I say, shaking my head, the barest hint of my lips brushing against hers. "Didn't you promise me you were going to be a good girl tonight?"
"I..." she says, eyes staying closed for a few seconds. Then she opens them and looks at me, trying not to smile. Trying, yes, but she fails quickly. "Is that really you, Daddy?" she asks.
"Yes."
And then the entire concept of punishment just goes completely out the fucking window. Fiona kisses me, then she flings herself at me. She jumps onto me, legs wrapping around my waist like a fucking bug, and she clings to the nape of my neck with her hands. She rains kisses down on my cheeks and my nose and my lips, just everywhere, my entire face.
"Yay!" she squees, which isn't even a word, but somehow Fiona does it perfectly anyways. "Daddy!"
"You know how much trouble you're in?" I ask her while she dotes on me and almost makes me forget I ever wanted to punish her in the first place.
"Nope," she says, shaking her head in between kisses. "Please? I love you?"
"You love me, but you're a huge fucking brat and you're in trouble," I tell her.
"You love me, too, Daddy?" she asks, smiling at me, happy.
"I do love you, but you're still a brat and you're in trouble."
"How much trouble?" she asks.
"Well, let's see... about six minutes worth of trouble," I say, grinning. "I paid good money for this, so I think I should make it count."
"You can't spank me, though," she says, pouting. "It might be too loud."
"Yeah, and also you'd love it," I say, matter-of-fact. "We really need to work on this punishment thing. If I punish you with things you like, you're just going to keep getting into trouble, aren't you?"
"Nuh uh," she says, shaking her head fast. "I won't, I promise. You don't even have to punish me. I've learned my lesson, Daddy. But... I'm really happy you're here. Will you stay with me? All night? Will you be my date to the party? We can keep it a secret! I... I know that maybe we shouldn't keep secrets like that from Emily, but..."
I listen to her talk. She sounds so excited right now. And... it's this. This is what I wanted for her. I wanted her to be excited, but I just never thought she could be this excited over me. I don't know how to explain the way I feel about Fiona. There's too many raw emotions all mixed into one mess of contradiction.
It's like, yes, I want the best for her. I want her to have a good time growing up and learning and experiencing new things. But I also want to protect her and keep her safe and make sure she doesn't get hurt. That's the real issue with everything. Sometimes in order to experience new things we have to hurt ourselves. People can warn you all they want, but it's not the same.
How do you know the stove is hot if you don't touch it and find out? You're never going to know until you do, but once you do it you're never going to want to do it again, either. It's funny how that works.
But most of all, I want Fiona to be happy. I want to be happy, too, but I refuse to place my happiness over hers.
So far I don't have to, though. She's perfectly happy with me. I don't know how that happened, it just did. I will never take her love for granted.
Fiona still needs to be punished, though. Sorry, baby girl, but your ass is mine. Or some other equivalent. We're going to figure this out.
Actually, now that I think about it...
"We're going to tell Emily soon," I tell her as she smiles at me, waiting for me to answer. "Not tonight. I'll stay with you, though. I'll be your date to the party. You're going to be a good girl the rest of the night, right?"
"Uh huh," she says, nodding fast. "Yes, Daddy. I'll be your good girl. I'll be a perfect little angel. See? I have white on and..."
Fiona realizes what she's drawing my attention to shortly after she says it. I take a moment to appreciate this for myself, though. It was one thing to see her flaunting herself on stage like that, but to see it up close and personal is something else entirely.
"Down," I say, smacking her butt as she clings to me. "Show me."
"You're mad," she says, pouting at me.
"Damn fucking right I'm mad," I say, shaking my head. "What the hell are you wearing?"
She grumbles and carefully unwraps her legs from around my waist and then lowers herself to the ground. Muttering about something or other, she takes a step back and lets me admire this provocative fucking bombshell of an outfit she's got on.
"Fiona, your breasts are practically falling out of your dress," I say, poking at the top of her cleavage.
"They're not falling out!" she protests. "It's... it's just got no straps so that's why it looks like that. It's a tube dress, Daddy."
"Yeah?" I ask. "You like this kind of clothing? You're going to start wearing it all the time when you go out? Because I think we're going to have some issues if that's the case."
"Not all the time..." she mumbles. "Emily picked it out. I knew you wouldn't like me wearing it here, but I thought that you'd like it when I came back to the hotel and you saw me in it. I don't like that woman, Daddy. The one who flirted with you at the front desk. She's older than me though, and I don't have any good dresses to wear for you, so I can see why you'd like her because--"
"Alright, going to stop you right there for a second," I say, holding up a finger to silence her. "I don't like Holly, I like you. Not only do I like you, but I love you, too. Now that we have that out of the way, I do think you look sexy as fuck in this dress, and if you want to wear outfits like this in private, then I would be more than happy to watch you skip around the house half naked. But that doesn't make you more of a woman to me, Fiona. If you want to get some nice dresses, we can go shopping and figure that out, alright?"
"I need money," she says, pouty. "I have a little and I've been trying to save up, but nice dresses cost a lot and I don't like asking you to buy me them. I know Emily probably used your money to buy this one, but that's different and I don't like that, either."
"If you want some dresses that you can wear that are nice, and not, uh... you know, your breasts popping out all over the fucking place, then we're going to figure that out and get you some dresses, alright? Stop being stubborn."
"No!" she says, defiant and grinning. Seriously, what a fucking brat. "I like being stubborn with you, Daddy. Only sometimes, though. Just a little bit, alright?"
"Fine, but we're getting you a fucking dress, and if you fight me on this I'm going to spank your ass."
"Can you spank my ass anyways?" she asks.
"Yes, but... so besides your breasts, uh... Fiona, this dress is too much."
"Do you mean like... this?"
She does a cute little spin, facing away from me, and then she just kind of does this thing where she pops her ass back at me, showing off her curves. And, yeah, holy fuck does this girl have curves.
I can't help myself. It's instinct by now, raw and real. I reach out and run my palm along the side of her hip and down, feeling every beautiful inch of her delicious ass. You have no idea how much I want to hear my palm clap against her backside right now, but I restrain myself and leave her with a light, nowhere near satisfying, little slap.
"Daddy, I wish you could--" she starts to say, but I'm not through with her yet.
I grab her hips with both hands and pull her back towards me in one smooth motion. My right hand slips to the front, resting tight against her lower stomach, and my left hand slides towards the bottom of her dress. I lift it up, revealing everything inch of her from her waist down.
She squirms against me, fighting for a half second, but as soon as she realizes what I'm doing she leans back, gasping, breathing hard.
"Daddy, what are you--?" she whispers.
"Take this off," I tell her, tugging at the waistband of panties that are far too thin. "Is this a thong, Fiona?"
"Um..." she says, cheeks red. "Kind of?"
"Kind of?" I ask, because apparently this needs to be asked.
"I didn't want to wear it."
"So you were going to come to the party without panties on?"
"Noooo!" she protests. "It's... it's because if you have a dress like this and you wear regular panties you'll get panty lines, and I would have still done that, but I guess people would have noticed and stared at my butt then, and I wasn't going to go around without any underwear on at all, because I really was trying to be a good girl, Daddy, so..."
"I appreciate your explanation," I tell her. "Why are these still on you, though? Do you remember what I asked you, baby girl?"
"Uh huh," she says. "Yes, Daddy. You told me to take them off."
"Good girl," I tell her, leaning close to kiss her neck. "Hurry up, baby, because we don't have a lot of time left."
"Yes, Daddy..."