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"This is a reminder."

This Is A Reminder

Cover image photo: Flora Westbrook from Pexels

“Baby? Come here please.”

Yes, Daddy.

You’re in our room getting ready. Rays of sunlight spill gold across the darkness through cracks in the blinds, painting our bed with burning tiger stripes. At the mirror, you concentrate, tying your tie.

You’re taking me out on a fancy afternoon stroll, followed by dinner at your favorite restaurant. I long to taste the flavors you choose. Sit and smile quietly while you order for me. Play footsie under the table, tamping down my desire to crawl underneath and take you into my mouth. Pleasure you right in public for all to see, as a king would deserve, should he desire it. Papa...

I stare in awe, ogling the broadness of your shoulders. The rough little hairs lining your forearms. The size of your hands. I’m still thinking about last night, and every night before it, when you took me and assured me of who I belong to.

You catch me looking, caught in your spell. That clever, subtle smile peeks out. “Hi, kitten.”

I smile back and blink softly. You can’t be real. You’re a dream. “Are you ready, Daddy?”

You pause in the mirror, casting me a sideways glance. “Not quite.” Adjusting your tie, you nod behind me, speaking softly. “Shut the door.”

A rush of fervor washes through me as I do. A melty, voltaic tingling in my sex. Do I get to play with Daddy?

You sit on the edge of our bed with your legs apart, patting your left knee. As I float into your arms and kiss your lips, your hands slide down my sides to cup the globes of my ass through my little black dress. I sigh into the crook of your neck while you rub and squeeze and pinch. I know it won’t last though. You want to spank me.

Going over your knee, I pout. “Was I bad, Papa?”

“No, kitten,” you whisper, pulling my dress up over the peaks of my cheeks, revealing my lacy white thong. I blush as you roll up the cuff of your dress shirt. “This is a reminder. Just so we’re clear.”

You adjust my ass over your knee, pushing down on my lower back and palming handfuls of creamy, chubby flesh with your other hand. I cross my forearms over the comforter and lay the side of my face on top.

“You’re going to behave yourself while we’re out. We’re gonna have a nice, quiet day together.”


A broad, harsh slap cracks over my right cheek and I wince.

“Yes, Papa.”

WHAP, on the other side, harder this time.

“You’re going to listen to Daddy and do everything he tells you.”


“You’re not gonna think about work or do any shit on your phone. I planned this whole day for us. This is Daddy’s time with you. You hear me?”

I nod, taking in the musky scent of your aftershave and rubbing my hand along the fabric covering your knee. It’s never fair when you spank me, keeping all your clothes on. I ache for the touch of your skin.

You grab my wandering wrist and pin it over my tailbone, following with a harsh smack to my bare thigh.


“Young lady?”

A whimper swirls through my throat. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll stay present, with you... I promise.”

“That’s right.”

You redden my bottom, firm while you spank. Deliberate. Continuous. Thorough. Unyielding. I bounce and whine and try not to kick as you send the message I’m meant to carry with me all day: Be good, or else.

You stop to slip under the cloth of my panties, inspecting. Checking. You find what you suspected… I’m melting for you. Dripping like honey as always. I grin at the sound of your restrained, possessive grunt, but drop the smile when you curl your thick finger inside me, followed by another.


It’s good. It’s you. But I long for the stretch and fullness of your length.

You grip a fistful of my hair and turn my face to the side, speaking sternly as your thumb twists down to circle my clit.

“If I even so much as sense an attitude or eye-rolling from you, you’re getting marched straight back here. We’ll grab the bath brush and you can spend the night in the corner with your bottom on fire instead of out with Daddy. Does that sound nice?”

“No, Daddy. I don’t want that!”

“I didn’t think so.”

Your fingers leave my slippery folds and it begins again.


“Owww! Daddyyy, noooo!” I grip the comforter, kicking and squealing.


My butt throbs with agitated heat by the time you’re done. You order me onto the bed on my hands and knees. Stripes of sunlight blaze across my teeming, hungry skin.

Take the rest, Daddy. All of me. Everything that’s yours.

And thank god, you do. Your thumb tugs the sopping crotch of my panties to the side to make way. Round and smooth, the head of your cock finds my entrance and you push all the way inside with a sharp, forceful thrust. Promptly, you set to fucking me in earnest. It hurts. You want it to. I’m not meant to come.

“You take it, young lady,” you huff, caging over my form to envelop me. “You be a good girl…”

My jaw hangs languid as guttural, unhinged groans rake through my throat, spattering across the walls. All semblance of who I am melts and evaporates. What’s my name again? I could care less.

“What would you do without Daddy, hm?” You’re panting through clenched teeth, getting close. You give my ass a stinging slap and clutch me by the hips, digging your fingernails into my doughy pink flesh to quell my squirming. “Who else is gonna fuck you just the way you need it?”

The room spins and I drool onto the blanket, eyes closed and shaking my head, floating on the jagged thrill of the rush.

“No one, Papa! No-nobody… else…!”

“That’s right.”

Feeling you harden further, I clench my pussy to grip you from the inside. You groan in what sounds like pain.


“Ugh, god… good girl… my good little girl. This is mine… mine…

With a final, violent thrust right to the hilt, you spasm and load me with cum, spilling your seed into the depths of my cunt. Your jaw clamps down on my shoulder to keep me still and a desperate sob bursts through my chest. I squeeze my eyes shut and wail, concentrating solely on your cock flinching inside me, pulsating as you unravel.

Once you’ve caught your breath you slide out, readjusting my panties and lowering my dress to cover my ass as I tremble. Your thick, strong arms surround me like a cocoon and you kiss the spot where your teeth sank into my skin. I feel your essence start to trickle out and smear onto my thighs. My hand reaches down to wipe up the mess.

“No.” Your head shakes. “Uh-uh. That stays there or you'll get punished for real.”

You stand me up straight. Set a few frazzled stray hairs in place. Give my sore ass a few final, generous swats.

As you hand me my purse, your lips close full and hot over mine and my soul sings, shimmering in my chest. I can’t believe you’re real. I can’t believe you love me.

“Okay, all set. Let’s go, honey.”

We amble through the park, smooching and canoodling. Lovesick and locked in. Made for each other.

But slivers of worries start to needle at my mind. Jittery static snipping at my attention. Work and emails and bills and bullshit and—

Your large hand smooths over my bottom, patting lightly, giving a pinch as you kiss my forehead.


Right. Sorry, Papa... I remember.

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