Read Online Books/Novels:
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:
Every brat needs a Daddy.
Daddy’s tastes are naughty and rough,
Daddy’s had them all you see,
Now Daddy has a lovely pet,
But brats are always hard to train,
Time to break out the whips and chains,
Think twice before you disobey,
|Books by Author:|
She was made to suck my cock. She just didn’t know it yet.
The moment I saw her, my hand reached into my jacket pocket, pulling out the tattered cigarettes. When I touched one to my lips, it would have only been fair if it had burst into flame without any heat.
The concrete cool against my shoulder, I took the first drag, my eyes never leaving her as she bounded down to the platform, lugging a suitcase almost as big as she was behind her.
I would have recognized her anywhere. Her image was ingrained in my brain, like a vision I couldn’t shake. The pictures didn’t do her any justice. I knew they wouldn’t.
She was mine. I knew it as clearly as I knew that she would be twisted around my cock in a few days, begging for more through tears of pain and lust.
The smoke filled my lungs and then plumed out, billowing in front of me in the shadow of the train station. She couldn’t see me, but I could see her as clear as day. Even with people standing and moving in front of her, it was like I could see right through them. They couldn’t hide her from me.
Nothing could. It was too late to run, too late to hide.
Those long, pale legs, carelessly shown off in floral shorts, would look so much better with red welts running across them. That plump ass of hers would be so much riper with whip marks all over it. Her whole body needed to be taught, trained, shown what it was made for.
To serve, to please, to be used.
And those gorgeous, full pink lips were only made for begging. I could hear her voice in my head, calling for me, pleading with me, and I hadn’t even heard her speak yet. I just knew. Like I knew everything about her, everything she needed and everything she wanted.
Everything she was going to get.
She was smiling, but her expression was strained as she hugged a woman years her senior. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail and her low-cut top was showing everyone too much. I had to fight the urge to go to her and throw my leather jacket over her shoulders, cover her up from the leering gazes.
She wasn’t for anyone else’s eyes, just mine. In all her innocence and in all her shamelessness, she was mine and mine alone and she needed to learn that.
The smoke felt heavy on my lips, and I exhaled roughly, tersely. She was moving away now, her face turned away from me.
I knew I would enjoy yanking that pretty little chin of hers up toward me soon, making her look at me with those big blue eyes even if she didn’t want to meet my gaze. I would show her what it felt like to get all the attention she was begging for, and what the price of it really was. What happened to little girls who didn’t know how to behave.
How she had made it so long without coming across another man like me, I would never know. I didn’t care to think about it, either.
It could have been so much worse, babygirl, I thought, an unpleasant memory somewhere just on the edges of my consciousness.
She was mine now. Making it so was just a formality. Everyone, and everything else, was unimportant.
With her ponytail bobbing in the crowd, disappearing from sight, I took the last drag of the cigarette and threw it on the ground, stepping on it with a booted foot. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I pushed myself away from the building and slowly walked after her and her companion, too far to really see her anymore, but walking right in her path.
I could smell her in the air. Even in a train station with thousands of people milling through it every day, it was like I could sense her clearly, track her without fail. That’s how it is with your property.
You can always find that which is yours.
“Excuse me,” someone chirped, distracting me.
I stopped, frowning as my gaze fell on a redhead that any other day would have had my attention. She was everything I liked. Young. Innocent. Needing to be taught some manners.
Her pink tongue slicked over her red lips as she batted her lashes at me. There was too much make-up on her face. It made her look older than the barely eighteen she must have been. Her friend covered her mouth and giggled as they shared a quick look among one another.
I didn’t have to ask what she wanted. It was painted all over her face. Whether she was going to disguise it behind asking for a smoke or for directions or for some other bullshit, it didn’t matter. She couldn’t lie to me as well as she could to herself.