As a Good Princess Should

"On your feet, young lady. Now."

The hard edge of steel in Daddy's voice makes me flinch, checking the torrent of protests that is on my very lips. "Uh- umm…" The living room sways before me while I rise unsteadily to my feet, not daring to disobey Daddy any longer. "Oh- okay… Daddy…"

"You've been nothing but trouble ever since coming home," he reminds me, and oh, I know it's true. I've been bratting all evening: pushing Daddy's buttons, taking out my irritability and frustration on him for no good reason. Sure, there's part of me that knows that I'm irritable because I haven't had a good sexy time with Daddy for nearly a week. So of course I've been getting increasingly on edge. But still, that's not a good enough excuse to be a little hellion… is it?

"Remember last week?" Daddy prods me, taking my soft hands in his rough ones and forcing them to open. He tugs me around to the end of our low coffee table, them pulls my hands forward and plants them both palm-down on the cool table surface, forcing me to bend sharply at the waist. "You were telling me how you were going to be the very best little princess in the world, didn't you? You wanted that tiara so badly, remember? And what was it that your Daddy told you you'd need to do first?"

"I- um," I falter. Oh, I remember damn well what I'd agreed to do. And oh, how nice and sweet it had seemed at the time! "I, umm, I promised to act like a princess…" God, my voice sounds even more pathetic aloud than in my head. So shaky, so penitent, so quavery and unsure…

"That's right," Daddy rumbles, and now his hands are running over other parts of my body: along my arched spine, and slipping along the petite curves of my breasts, hanging soft and naked beneath my pastel top. "Now tell me, baby. Do you think a princess talks back to her superiors? Does she stomp through a room when she doesn't get her way? Does she swear and use bad words because she's angry?"

"N-no," I stutter, knowing that I have no choice but to agree. Daddy's hands are caressing my panty-clad buttocks now, and with every shaky second that passes I am fully expecting to feel the crack of his hand descending, dealing the first swats of the spanking my kinky, subby heart knows I deserve…

Yet none fall. In fact, I hear him step back a few paces, and I timidly turn my head to see what's actually going on. He is… across the room. Looking at the bookshelf? At some sort of… story…?

"You're exactly right, baby," he assures me, and now he is returning, a slim volume in one hand. "See, Daddy took you very seriously when you said you wanted to be a princess, okay? Good daddies always take their darling girls' dreams seriously. And so, I've gotten you a little book that talks all about how to be a real princess, honey."

He pauses to slip the book in front of me, his fingers thrusting the open volume underneath my shaking fingers. "Listen, I was going to give it to you for Easter, baby. But honestly, I think you need it right now."

Up goes my short ballet skirt. Up goes the hem of my Raya t-shirt. And with the sharp sound of tearing cotton, the shreds of my flowered panties slip loose under his strong hands, tumbling down into a pathetic little rag around my ankles.

"Read your princess lesson, baby," Daddy growls now, and a little meep of fright and arousal escapes me at the rough tone of his voice. "I've decided a spanking won't do much good to turn such a little brat into a true princess. Instead, you're going to read me those pages – aloud. And what's more, I don't want you stopping… not for anything."

Oh, god. What- what is Daddy planning? I honestly don't need to ask – for already I can feel the rough caress of his probing fingers slipping around the mound of my womanhood, so bare and defenseless before him. And why ever not? I am here bending low before him – his devoted and submissive partner, replete with my now-naked ass and pussy on display. And not only that, but I'm under his strict orders to stay put and read for him…

In other words, what I'm saying is that though I might not be tied up like a whimpering little piece of fuckable meat, Daddy still has me damn near just as helpless.

"To be a princess," I begin reading in an unnaturally high, shaky tone. "…is not to be always prim and proper. It's not about wearing fancy clothes, or having heaps of money. What truly de-, ahem, defines a princess is the things she loves. And the ways she behaves… and thinks…"

"Good," comes Daddy's voice, accompanied by the sound of his clinking belt buckle and the soft thud of his trousers and boxers hitting the floor. Then comes the teasing pressure of his warm naked thighs and hard cock against my defenseless behind… and I quiver in sudden longing. "Go on, baby," he urges. "Keep reading, or Daddy will have to punish!" And so… I do, trying to fight back the sordid thoughts and tingles of arousal that this entire scene is sparking within me.

"A good princess knows always to follow her- her heart," I stutter, the pitch of my voice rising even higher now because of the indescribable sensations rippling through me – of Daddy's moistened fingers slipping firmly into my naked pussy, and of his other hand grasping me possessively behind my neck. "She- she should always want to drem- I mean, dream… big…"

"What's in your heart? What do you want to dream about, baby?" Daddy's throaty voice is low and urgent, and a little moan escapes me despite myself. "I- Daddy, please-" I whine, not even sure what I'm saying beyond trying to resist his seductively sadistic commands. "About a big, strong Daddy?" he prompts, and I'm shaking my head in silent agreement. "Then say it!" he orders, and now I'm panting slightly, the wet heat blossoming between my thighs and the familiar hot glow of humiliation and arousal sweeping through me. Yes, yes, Daddy- I- I have to-

"Yes, I do!" I blurt out, and indeed, in this moment it's true – there's nothing else I'd rather dream about. "A- a- a big, strong Daddy! An' he- he-" "He what, princess?" "He has a big-" gulp "thick-" no, no I'll say it! "massive… cock! Just for- for me-"

"Baby, pay attention! You've stopped reading!" he reminds, and I shudder in arousal and a subby, instinctive longing to obey. And so… I stagger on. "The true princess… she should be- um, polite…" and always-" gasp "use sweet… kind words- like- like-" uuuuhhhh!!- "Please…"

"'Please' what, princess?" Daddy's tone is metaphorically prodding, but it's also a literal prodding: of his massive phallus against my aching cunt. "To please-" I begin, the heat glowing in my cheeks as I try desperately to spit out the humiliating words. "To ask Daddy… nicely… to please – please, please, please – Daddy, please… can you fu- fuck me… please…"

"Aww, please? To please fuck you? Hmm… like this, princess?"

He's penetrating me at last, the first quick, sharp burst of discomfort fading almost instantly into the sordid, gut-wrenching wonder of being stuffed full by my wonderfully, terrifyingly sadistic Daddy. In and out he works his swollen cock, and a strangled little bleat of pleasure and shock escapes me with every other thrust. Daddy- he- he's finally fucking me- from behind- and holy fuck, it feels so good-

But then his voice cuts sharper than ever, simultaneous with a stinging swat to my exposed little ass. "Didn't I tell you to keep reading… princess? Or maybe you really are just a brat, hmm?"

"The- princess-" I fumble desperately, the words swimming and bobbing now before my eyes as Daddy slips into pounding me with sharp, rhythmic thrusts. "Treasures her- her own-" uuhhh!-"happiness!" Oh, fu- "She- she's never ashamed to- to- to say… to sayyyy-yy-yy-!!!"

Even now, awash in the euphoric bliss of orgasm, I can't stop talking – for Daddy commanded me to read, and Daddy must be obeyed. The words that drabble out from my lips now are anything but coherent, but that doesn't matter. "I- god- fuck- da- daddy-! I- I- can't- puh- puh- plee- pleezzz! Oh- oh- oh- I- I can't- Daddy, I- I can't- Plee- pleee-"

When the orgasm finally passes and my senses begin to return, I find my knees shaking… my knuckles white… and streaks of drool down my chin and dribbled across the table beneath me. Yet even now, Daddy's little princess book is before me, and my unfocused eyes blink vaguely over it, searching still for the place where I left off…

"Never ashamed to say what she wants in life," Daddy finishes, "…no matter what others may think." His voice rasps with spent passion and gentle pride, and as his fingers slide down through my hair and tighten in gentle, possessive reassurance, I gulp and sag heavily forward against the table.

Daddy… is incredible. Never in my life have I longed to be such a good princess for him as I do now: a princess with delightfully dirty dreams, and who wants nothing more than for her Daddy to help her make those dreams come true.

Dreams that include a sparkly tiara… just as much as they also include getting absolutely railed: over, and over, and over again…