Bad Daddy 1

I love looking out my bedroom window at the streetlamp on the corner. Especially on a rainy night when the drops fall down in sheets, and are illuminated like tiny, little crystals suspended in the air. I usually sit alone in my comfy old chair in the corner, sipping hot cocoa from a mug, and warming my feet by the fire as I enjoy the glorious sight.

It was a Friday night, exactly like that one, when a man showed up on my doorstep, wearing a wide brimmed hat, and a long trench coat. He held a black umbrella in one hand, a tattered suitcase in the other, and my attention with the deep look of sadness in his greyish-blue eyes.

"Can I help you?" I asked, as I leaned up against the door post, and took a sip from the mug which I held up to my lips with both hands.

He hesitated, glancing down at his wet boots before answering. "I...uh, I'm Clark Weston."

Those words knocked the breath out of me, and I stood there dazed and speechless for a moment.

"Daddy!" Was the first word that tried to escape my lips, but I managed to muffle it with a mouthful of the warm liquid.

He stared a bit more intently, as the raindrops continued to fall between us, then managed to ask. "Stella? Is that you?"

The sweet girl who I had fought so hard to retain over the years of loneliness and rejection started to dissipate, and the independent survivor I had become, began to rise to the surface. I dropped the mug into one hand by my side and reached for the door handle with the other. "What do you want?"

His eyes shot from mine, to the door knob, and then back to his boots. "I've come on hard times," he said. "I could really use a place to stay."

I fought the urge to scream in his face, and tell him that I knew the feeling way to well. Instead, I took a step back and started to close the door.

"Stella wait!" He begged.

I expected him to lunge for the door, and try to force his way in, but he just folded the umbrella, opened up the suitcase, and pulled out the cutest little teddy bear I had ever seen.

"I bought this for you twenty five years ago." He said. "I had planned on bringing it to the hospital to give to your mom for you, but by time she told me where she was, you were already gone." I watched as sadness welled up in his eyes. "She had given you to your new family." He said holding the teddy bear out toward me.

I felt the harsher me start to melt away again. I had met Mom a handful of times when I was younger. I had even tried to stay with her for a couple weekends. I heard her and her friends talk about "Wes," as she called him, about what a worthless, piece of trash he was. She said he was evil and didn't give two shits about anyone but himself. After looking into his calm caring eyes, I had to agree that he may be a bit off his rocker, but I didn't see anything in him that could convince me he was capable of even hurting a fly.

I held out my hand for the bear, and when he gave it to me, I hooked my arm in his, and led him down the hall to the guest bedroom.

He set his suitcase next to the dresser in the corner, kicked off his boots and then took a seat on the bed. His mind seemed to be wandering, but his eyes stayed fixed on the colorful rug between his feet.

"I've wanted to tell you this for so long, but I still don't know exactly where to start." He started wringing his hands in his lap. "I've been a horrible dad, a horrible man for that matter." He paused momentarily, choking on his words. "But if you give me the chance, I will do whatever I can to make it up to you. I promise."

My mind was starting to zag in all sorts of different directions. I had wanted all my life to finally meet this man, and here he was right in front of me, but it just didn't match up to my expectations. He wasn't the fearless super villain Mom had painted him as, and he definitely wasn't the hero my fantasy mind had dreamed him up to be.

"Hungry?" I asked, as I squeezed the bear against my chest.

He raised his eyes and for the first time I thought I saw a smile forming on his lips.

"I could definitely eat something."

I took his coat and boots and set them by the fire to dry, then wandered into my bedroom, trying to fight back the hatred that raged inside of me, and hoping to quell the hope for a best case scenario.

I sat down on my bed, trying to calm myself but my heart was racing. I lifted the bear to face level so I was staring it right in its hollow black eyes. For the first time in a long time I didn't feel judged, and I rather enjoyed his look of apathy. Like he didn't give two shits about who I was, or what I wasn't. No matter what, he was just going to hang there in the air with his arms outstretched, waiting to give me a big furry bear hug. After rubbing his soft cheek against mine, I set him between my pillows, blew him a kiss, and wandered into the kitchen.

I pulled a pot out of the cupboard, turned on the stove, and opened a can of soup. I kept trying to convince myself that I would let him spend the night, and in the morning I'd feed him breakfast, then send him on his way, rested and well fed, but all I could think of were the Daddy-Daughter dances, and good night kisses I had missed out on. He definitely owed me.

When I came back into the room he was still sitting on the bed. I handed him the bowl, then went and stood by the window, staring out at the rain as he ate in silence. When the spoon clanged against the empty bowl, and I heard him slurp down the last bite, I turned to see him holding out the bowl.

"That hit the spot." He said. Thank you so much!"

I stepped toward him but didn't reach for the empty bowl. "Did you really mean what you said?" I asked.

He looked me straight in the eyes, and then wrinkled his forehead questioningly.

"About doing whatever it takes." I responded.

He dropped his eyes to the floor again and nodded. "I promise."

"Then stand up, take off your damn belt, and bend your ass over the bed." I demanded.

"What?" He said, wrinkling up his forehead again.

I took the bowl from him, set it on the dresser behind me, and reached my hand for his belt. "Count to twenty following every number with, 'I'm a bad Daddy,' and make sure it's loud enough for me to hear every word, or there will be severe consequences." I said.

I smiled inside as I watched him squirm a bit before turning and obeying my command.

He was wearing thin, plaid dress pants, and I could see him grimace as I folded the belt in half, and snapped it in my hands a few times for effect.

Wes was above average height for a man, and very thin, so he looked kind of awkward as he bent over and put his hands on the bed. "Do you ever think that maybe things worked out exactly how they were supposed to?" He asked. "I mean, you seem to be doing fairly well for yourself. You have a great place, a decent..."

His back stiffened and his legs tightened as he felt the belt float over his tiny ass.

"No, I've never thought of it that way." I said, as I drew my arm back and gave him a solid smack.

His face turned flush and he let out a sudden gasp. He hesitated for a moment, and then continued. "One...I've been a bad Daddy."

My sleep was definitely restless that night, and even though I couldn't remember any of my dreams, I knew they hadn't been great. When I woke up, Theodore the Bear was soaked in tears and sweat. I pushed him aside and jumped out of bed.

Even though I knew it was a bad idea, for some reason, I had to look at myself in the mirror. Just as I had suspected, I was a wreck. My hair was tossed in every direction, my eyes were puffy, and I had pillow marks all over my face, and chest. However, I was smiling for some reason, my stomach looked flatter, my tits as tiny as they were, seemed perkier, and my baby blue cotton panties were soaked.

My mind flashed to Wes and his sore bottom, and even though the thought of it made me feel embarrassed and even a bit dirty, I knew for a fact, that I had never felt happier.

I grabbed a towel from the linen closet, headed into the bathroom, and flipped on the shower. My thoughts were spinning, and my nipples were tingling as I slipped out of my panties. I slid my hands back up my legs and let them rest on my bum. I couldn't help wondering what it would be like if the roles from last night were reversed.

When I was all clean and feeling refreshed, I slipped into a pair of jeans and a yellow tee shirt, and headed out to the living room. Wes was sitting on the sofa, in a pair of plaid pajamas, looking through an old photo album of mine.

"We need to do something about that wardrobe." I said, with a smile.

"You look just like your mom in this one." He said, pointing at a picture of me riding the roller coaster, in pigtails and a pair of pink denim overalls.

For some reason that upset me, I didn't want to resemble her in any way, especially not with my Daddy around. I knew if she got the chance, that venomous bitch would do anything she could to destroy us.

I sat down on the couch as close to Wes as I could, and watched as he turned the page to show a picture of me in the same outfit on the ferris wheel, eating a giant lollipop.

I thought I saw a tear in Wes' eye. "Looks like a great memory." He said.

"Most of it." I said, hoping to make him feel guilty for not being there. "I paid for it the rest of the month. Nothing came free in that family."

He kept staring at the photo album, but slid his hand onto my knee. I tried not to squirm, but it had literally been years since I had received any type of affection from a man. Most of the guys I had met were either pussies, or just plain jerks, and since I wasn't one for drama, I had tried to be content just being alone, but there was something about this man that lit a fire inside of me.

I just wanted to wrap my arms around him and pull him close, to feel his whiskers on my cheeks and his breath on my neck.

"I hope you know I would have done anything to be there with you." He said. "I'm so sorry."

I saw him grimace as he said it. I couldn't say for sure, but I bet he was remembering the sting of the belt from last night.

I took the photo album out of his hand, and set it on the coffee table in front of us. I just couldn't resist the temptation anymore, so I climbed up on his lap. I was so used to rejection that I expected him to push me off, but instead he smiled into my eyes and ran his fingers over my forearm. I grabbed the front of his green and red pjs and pulled him toward me.

His eyes got big like saucers, and for the first time it hit me that he might be craving attention as much, if not even more, than I was. It started to make sense that his crotch might be aching, and his heart could be heavy from all the years of loneliness and accusations.

All of these years I had hated him, thinking that he was so much better off than me, and that it was his choice to fuck me over. The truth was he was as lost as I was, just as abandoned and empty on the inside.

Just then his cock hardened between his legs. I felt it reach up and jab against my tender lips. A chill tore down my spine, and I tried in vain to fight off a shiver.

"Wanna get some ice cream?"

After Wes had slipped back into his thin ass dress pants, and forest green polo, we walked down the sidewalk. It was awkward at first, he kicked at rocks, I pretended to be interested in the cherry blossoms, and the squirrels fighting over a bread crumb, but we both knew what we actually wanted.

I reached for his hand, and slid my fingers between his. His palms were huge and clammy, but they were comforting, and I realized this was exactly what I'd been missing.

I wanted to skip down the street, but instead I leaned up against him, reaching over and grabbing his biceps with my free hand. I had no idea when he had showered last, but I knew I loved his smell.

We were almost to the ice cream parlor when we passed a second hand store. I dragged him back.

"We need to get you some new duds." I said.

The door chimed and the two grey haired ladies behind the counter turned their eyes away from their romance novels to check us out. I had to admit I was surprised by their warm smiles.

"Can I help you two find anything?" The lady in the lavender sweater asked.

Wes tried on a few different things, but we settled on a pair of khaki cargo shorts, a Steelers jersey and a baseball cap. It took a bit more to convince him to give up his boots for a pair of Converse high tops, but in the end I won.

After we had made his purchases and I talked him into leaving his old clothes for someone in need, he insisted I try on the mint green sundress, hanging on the headless mannequin in the window.

"It's only fair that you get a makeover too." He said, with a toothy grin.

When I stepped out of the dressing room, he greeted me with a huge smile and I knew he liked it, but most of all I loved the way he checked me out, from my head to my feet.

"Absolutely gorgeous." He said.

I loved the feel of dresses, the way the wind blows freely through every inch of your body. I didn't wear them often, because they made me feel self-conscious of my chicken legs, but I was sure Wes didn't care.

"I think I'm finally ready for a double scoop of Cherry Chocolate Delight." I said.

As we left the thrift store Wes actually reached for my hand. I don't think he had any idea how happy that made me, and even though we were less than a block away, I kept hoping the trip would never end.

We ordered our cones, and Wes decided we should sit at a table outside with one of those fancy colorful umbrellas. I liked that he was starting to come out of his shell a bit, and express his opinion.

I sat down next to him. This time he scooted closer, and put his hand on the bear skin of my thigh. We were enjoying our ice cream, and each other's company in silence when an overly cheery young lady walked by.

"You two make the cutest couple." She said, as she stopped to admire us.

"Thank you!" I responded. "Hey, do you think you could take a picture of us? I asked as I handed her my phone.

As she pointed the camera at us, I leaned in and pressed my lips against Wes' cheek.

"Why don't you give him a real kiss? Act like you love him or something."

I paused, and wondered what Wes would do if I planted a big fucking wet kiss on his chops right here in public. I didn't have to think long, because he turned and faced me, then placed his hands on my shoulders, and pulled me toward him, covering my lips with his.

It wasn't the kiss that every girl dreams of since childhood. The kind that sweeps you off your feet and makes you forget all your hopes and dreams. It was definitely a daddy kiss, and I have the picture to prove it. I'm not sure it will ever make its way into my photo album, but I know it will always be locked in my memory.

When we got home Wes spent most of the afternoon in his room. I was feeling mixed emotions because I had really enjoyed our morning together, and wanted to pick his brain to see if he felt the same. Instead, I tried to keep myself busy, cleaning, and doing other stuff around the house.

It was starting to get dark outside and Wes still hadn't come out of his room. After pacing back and forth in front of his room, I made him some spaghetti and garlic bread, and poured a drink for myself while I built up the courage to talk to him.

"Come in Darling." He said when I finally knocked on the door.

I stepped in and approached him offering the food, but he motioned for me to set it on the table. After I had obliged he grabbed my wrist, and surprised me, by pulling me over his lap. His grip was stronger than I had expected, and after waiting so long to see him, I had no desire to resist.

"I think it's my turn." He said with a wink, as I sprawled over his legs and my dress flipped up over my white cotton panties.

He rubbed one hand over my cheeks and used the other to yank up on a fistful of my hair.

"I've been a bad daddy!" He exclaimed, as his hand crashed down on my tender cheeks.

I squirmed, as much out of pleasure as from the sting, and I felt my nipples harden as a gush of fluids flowed over my hungry lips.

He smacked me again, and this time I jumped, but he secured me by gripping tighter on my hair. When I had settled, he hooked his pointer finger in the elastic of my panties and slid them down. I wasn't much for nude sun bathing, so I knew I had a definite tan line, and it embarrassed me to think that he had a clear view of my pasty ass. I even felt a rush of dread that I may have a pimple or two.

I clinched my cheeks, hoping for another smack, but instead he just rubbed them gently, and I was incredibly turned on by the feel of his clammy palm against my exposed flesh.

I wasn't sure if it was possible to cum just from a spanking, but there was no mistake my insides were tightening.

He smacked me again, very hard this time, and I let out a very loud gasp, followed by a scream as my shoulders shuddered. Then he pulled up my panties, helped me off his lap and reached for the meal I had brought him.

"Delicious." He said after he gobbled down a few bites, and then wiped up some of the sauce with his bread. I wondered what was going on in his head. Was he enjoying this as much as I was, or was it just a twisted attempt at earning some sort of penance?

When he was done eating, he leaned over and kissed me gently, and placed the bowl in my hands. "I think I'm gonna take a shower."

I threw the dishes in the sink and then went and lay down on my bed. I held Theodore tight against my chest, and waited for the shower to turn off. I'd spent my whole life waiting for Clark Weston; you'd think I'd be used to it. After, numerous wasted wishes on Birthday candles, and years of filling out Father's Day cards, and dropping them into the big blue mailbox, hoping somehow they would find him. I just wanted him to come to me, grab me up in his arms and save me from the pain and the loneliness, but he seemed to be oblivious to my needs. I started to feel that he didn't even know what love was.

I had to push back a tear when I heard the shower shut off and his bedroom door close. I wanted to run to him, but at least I had Theodore to hold me through my loneliness.

I felt sleep coming on, and I wanted to fight it. My whole world with my Daddy so far had been lived in dreams, and right now, I just wanted to run into his room, lay down next to him, and kiss away both of our pain. I wanted it to be real, for once in my life.

I woke up to a full breakfast, eggs, pancakes, hash browns, and three sausage links. The house smelled wonderful, and it looked beautiful too. He had pulled open all my dreary curtains, opened the windows, and welcomed the sunshine into my life.

He was wearing a pink floral apron over a pair of worn out jeans, and a sleeveless plaid button up short. He flipped a chair around and straddled it as he watched me enjoy a big bite of pancakes smothered in maple syrup.

"I've been thinking we should spruce up that old garden plot you have out back." He said. "Maybe swap out some of those tomato plants for a couple of nice rose bushes. I was thinking the white and pink ones if that's okay with you.

I couldn't help, but smile at his renewed look of hope and energy.

"And what do you know about flowers?" I asked with a silly grin.

"I might know a thing or two." He said. "As a matter of fact I spent a few years as a groundskeeper for a couple of doctor's down south. I was just thinking we could do our best to turn this place into the palace every listen princess imagines; from the very moment she had her first dream."

"I guess I've never had that dream." I said, and my face must have turned more serious than I had intended. "I've always been happy just surviving."

"Well, I think it's time we change that." He said, as he jumped up and grabbed a pair of work gloves out of the drawer. "I'll be outside in the rose garden."