Staying With Daddy – Part One by puppyduck_

He hadn’t seen his daughter in years – wasn’t allowed after the divorce – and it had shocked him to see the beautiful young woman she had grown into. He picked her up from the airport and tried his best not to stare at her on the drive back to his house. She had drank a little too much on the plane from whichever country she had been living in this time, obviously as nervous about meeting her father for the first time in fifteen years as he was about meeting her.She stood no taller than five foot, the top of her head reaching his chest, but she had developed an amazing set of curves, and her face had become more angular and striking. Her hair was dyed black and cut short, the dark thick waves just touching her shoulders.

The meeting had been an awkward one at first. Patrick had hugged her too hard, let his hand linger around her waist for too long, inhaled her scent too deeply. She seemed cold and reserved to begin with but a few more bottles of wine had relaxed them both.

“Didn’t you miss me?” Violet asked him, her elbows propped up on the kitchen counter and her chin resting in both her hands. She watched him as he tried to cook through the heady drunkenness.

“Of course I did, puppy,” he told her. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her properly but he saw her shifting nervously out of the corner of his eye and knew she remembered the nickname he had called her when she was little, just as he did.

The room was spinning slightly for Violet. In her father’s presence and under the influence of more alcohol than she could usually handle, she let her mind wander to the different men she had fucked. Violet had started young, sleeping with any man who would show her affection, but the longer she stared at Patrick she realised that they all shared his features. He was older now, but still just as tall and lean as she remembered from her childhood. His jawline was sharp, covered with a tidy and short now-greying beard. His hair was still as thick and he still wore it combed back but she knew it came from running his hand through it too much.

“Didn’t you want me?” She asked, her bottom lip jutted out. Look at me, she thought, beginning to anger at how cold he was being as he continued chopping food, give me some fucking attention.

He looked up at her and smiled, handling the knife in his hands expertly. “More than anything,” he confessed. Violet was still leaning against the counter, her round bubble butt jutting out, and from this angle he could see the full curve of her breasts down the front of her top.

“I still do want you,” he said, continuing to chop.

“Good,” Violet said indignantly, taking a large mouthful of wine. “Because I’ve always wanted you back. But I hated you for leaving me with mum.”

Patrick chuckled softly as he put the ingredients into the pan. He gave them a stir and watched them begin to sizzle, thinking of how to answer. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the kitchen counter, looking at his daughter from across the room.

“You know how I feel about your mother,” he began, “but I knew she would take care of you. Look at who you’ve grown into – you have to give her some credit.”

“You don’t know who I’ve grown into,” Violet laughed harshly. Patrick felt it like a stab to his chest, but he knew he couldn’t judge her for carrying around the anger and abandonment he had caused her.

“I raised myself,” Violet continued, her voice taking on a meaner edge as she jabbed her own chest with her thumb to emphasise her point. “Mum was a mess after you left! Just sat in front of the television all day – no washing, no cooking, no help with school. And you can forget discipline, there was none of that.” She paused to take another drink of wine, remembering her nights with strangers, taking things she shouldn’t have taken and doing things she shouldn’t have done. “A young girl can have too much freedom sometimes.”

Patrick poured boiling water over the pasta and left it to cook. He walked over to Violet slowly, and she felt as though she could have cried when she realised she had forgotten the calm and soothing effect his presence had. He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m sorry, puppy.” Violet looked up at him, her chin resting on his chest. He cupped her cheek, the palm of his hand cradling her small delicate face while his thumb stroked her bottom lip. “Daddy will have to do his best to make up for that lack of discipline, won’t he?”

She nodded eagerly like the child he remembered her as, only the look in her eyes was the hunger of a woman as she took his thumb into her mouth and sucked it softly.

“Were you a bad little girl?” he asked softly, unable to believe the situation they were slowly finding themselves in.

Violet nodded again and mumbled an “M-hm” around his thumb.

His hands moved down to her waist. Patrick shook his head disapprovingly at her.

“I started drinking really young,” Violet elaborated, “I was barely twelve. Then that became boring and wasn’t enough, so I’d use drugs. It’s a lot easier to sleep around when you’re high all the time.” She shrugged. “I preferred older men, but I’m sure you can guess why. I’d do whatever they asked me to, but it still didn’t feel like enough.”

The only thing that told her that her father was no longer as calm were his eyes, which were cold and angry. They excited her. But his voice remained just as level when he finally spoke.

“I’m not going to ask you to do things, Violet,” he said, moving towards the hob to drain the pasta. He tossed the contents of the pan into a colander, and the sound of metal hitting metal made Violet jump. He liked that she was nervous. Patrick held it over the sink while the water drained. “I’m going to tell you to do things, and you’re going to do them.”

He placed the food on two plates and held one out to her. She reached out to take it but he withdrew it away from her greedy little hands.

“I want you to eat this from the floor,” Patrick told her firmly.

“Why, daddy?” Violet asked, her eyes wide and as innocent as her voice.

“Now you’re questioning me. Do you think good girls question things like that? I thought you were hungry.”

Violet nodded, beginning to lower herself to the floor. His voice had a cold edge to it now and it had upset her to know that she had really angered him. “No, daddy. I’m sorry. I am hungry! I’m really hungry.”

Patrick shrugged, held her plate over the dustbin and poured the food into it.

Violet gasped and frowned at him in anger, unable to control her annoyance with him despite how much he was turning her on. “What the fuck?” she yelled.

Her father placed the empty plate on the side and used his free hand to slap her swiftly across the face. The shock of it made her speechless.

“Only good girls get fed,” Patrick said, “Now get on the floor.”

Still reeling, but unnerved by the edge in her father’s voice that used to terrify her as a child, she obeyed and got down on her hands and knees on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor.

Patrick sat down at the kitchen table and began eating his food. He could feel Violet’s eyes bearing into him, but he took satisfaction in knowing that the worst punishment he could give her was to ignore her, as he had done for most of her life. He ate as though he was alone in the room, refusing to acknowledge her presence at all. He decided that if she remained silent and didn’t start acting up for attention he would save her some food. It was all part of the training process.

The floor was hard enough to hurt Violet’s bones, but she sat there anyway. Her father had his back to her, and she would wait for him to finish eating before she spoke again. Perhaps if she apologised nicely enough he would remember that she was his daughter and make her some more food.

After a few minutes, which to Violet agonizingly felt like hours, Patrick turned to her and clicked his fingers before pointing to the floor near his feet. She crawled over to him and could see his eyes lingering on her backside which she kept high in the air for him.

He placed the plate with some food he had left on he floor. Without a word, holding her weight up with her hands, she bent her head and ate his offerings off the plate with just her mouth. She looked up at him when she had finished and he laughed warmly.

He licked his thumb and wiped away traces of sauce from her lips and chin.

Patrick felt as though he had made his point clear, and now she had submitted this far he was intrigued to push even further.

“Stay,” he told her sternly before he retrieved the knife he had used to chop their food with. Very slowly he began cutting the clothes from her body, ruining the material and tossing them to one side.

Violet had learned her lesson; despite the slightly puzzled look on her face she didn’t dare question her father again. Just the tiniest whimper of discomfort escaped her lips when he removed her bra, exposing her full perky breast and hardening pink nipples, and then finally her underwear.

She sat cold and naked on the floor at his feet, the cold metal of the knife against her skin had aroused her like nothing before. She couldn’t take her eyes off the sharp edge, which he handled so well, knowing that he had complete control of the situation and that she was at his mercy. She could feel her wetness pooling on the floor.

“You can wear clothes when I know you can behave,” Patrick whispered in her ear, pulling her to her feet, “but until then you don’t deserve them. Do you understand?”

“Yes, daddy,” Violet whimpered as he bent her over the table. For one of the first times in her life, she felt shy about how she looked naked; embarrassed about her genitals being so completely exposed to her father.

“Don’t worry, puppy,” he said, his voice taking on a playful edge, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, even if it does look a lot different. I used to bathe you, do you remember?”