It’s the kind of thing you can’t say. You just feel. Just ache and rise and silently beg. He watches me. Watches exactly what he’s doing to me. ...he slow circle of his thumb. The finger still hovering against my asshole. I turn my face away. He grasps my chin and turns it back, holding it in place.“Tell you what,” he says, as calm as anything. “I’ll let you come if you say I can fuck your ass.”He does it every time and it still makes me clench. Still makes the anxiety surge. Does he feel it? He. The walk home was an awful one. I had let him down. When we were finally through the front door, he told me to take off my dirty panties, put them in the wash, and then come straight to his bedroom for my punishment. I did as I was told. Once in his room, I shut the door behind me, my head down, and walked over to where he sat on his bed, and lay down across daddy’s lap, ready to get what I deserved. He lifted up my skirt, exposing my bare bottom. “Daddy, please, I didn’t mean too!” The loud. More

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