Her Daddy, Dom, and Neighbor in One Ch. 02

The participants of this story are all above the age of 18. This is Chapter 2 of Her Daddy, Dom, and Neighbor in One. Please let me know what you think. I have one more chapter to post, and your comments will let me know if I need to continue past that point.

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Cassie awoke to sunlight streaming in her window and her doorbell ringing insistently. Picking up her Powerpuff Girls robe, she jolted and weaved to the door where Max predictably stood. Upon seeing him, she stood straight, instantly alert as memories of a few hours earlier flooded her mind.

"We need to talk," he commanded, after she opened the door to him and turned to head to the kitchen. "You know we do."

She nodded, defeated. All of her dreams vanished in the truths revealed shockingly in the early morning hours. Eyes puffy with lack of sleep and a torrent of tears looked up into his set gaze; he had apparently decided how their situation would be "dealt with," as he had "dealt with" her various scrapes when she was younger.

Max guided her to a chair at the kitchen table, decorated with a happily patterned tablecloth. He placed down his cup of coffee with the ubiquitous green logo at a seat beside hers. From the bag he carried, he removed a juice box filled with fruit punch and silently set it in front of Cassie. He pulled out a box of donuts and placed two pink-frosted ones with sprinkles in front of her. Then, he removed an apple fritter and took a bite.

Following his cue, Cassie mechanically took a bite, barely tasting the overly sweet breakfast pastry. When he lifted his coffee and gulped, she fumbled with the cellophane-wrapped plastic straw until he placed his hands over hers, taking the juice box from her and deftly unwrapping the straw and puncturing the box with it and holding the box carefully to her lips for her to sip the juice.

As soon as they both completed their breakfast, Cassie stood to clean up. His right hand shot up, gently capturing her wrist, stopping her from standing. Silently, he gathered up the detritus of breakfast and disposed of it.

"Wipe your fingers and mouth," he said, handing her a napkin, but then stopped with a growl that rumbled from deep within him.

Max lifted her fingers that had held the donuts and sucked them, one at a time, into his mouth, cleaning them, swabbing them, caressing them with his tongue. His dark gaze, the eyes in her dream last night, burned into her. Her pussy turned molten with need, and a whimper escaped her lips. He pulled back, licking his lips.

Staring down at her, his glare was rapt on the pink sugar frosting that still remained on her lips. She felt the weight of his stare, and, for once, interpreted it correctly. "Please, Max," she began, but then started over when his expression turned taciturn. "Please, Daddy," she begged, standing up and pressing her body to his warmth.

His free hand, the one that did not still hold her hand in his, stroked her cheek softly. Cassie turned her head instinctively, nuzzling his cheek. His fingers cradled her chin which he tipped up to meet his lips.

The kiss began tentatively, and Cassie could feel the amount of control he exerted to make it be a tender pressing of the lips. Then, his lips opened so that his tongue could lick the pink frosting from hers, and she was lost.

Her whimpers and his deep-pitched growls formed an erotic duet as both took the opportunity to touch, to taste, their tongues melding and caressing. It was when her legs wobbled that he picked her up as if she were truly a baby girl, cradled her to his chest, carried her to her living room, and settled her across his lap where she snuggled in close.

He hugged her to him for a few quietly precious moments before whispering, not wanting to break the spell, "Now we talk."

"About what?" she probed innocently, but he saw past the façade.

He growled, nipping her lightly on the ear. "About what brought you to the room. About where we go from here. About...everything."

Cassie shoved off of his lap and curled up on the corner of the sofa. "You mean about how you 'dealt with' everything in my life?"

Max—Daddy—Master pulled her authoritatively onto his lap. "What do you mean by that?" His voice was quietly menacing.

"I mean what you usually do," she said, softening her response with an apologetic smile. She shrugged. "I know you don't want me as your submissive; now you can focus on the friend you wanted to ask—the one with complications." Cassie supposed her words sounded bitter, but she couldn't help it. She was only beginning to realize how much Max meant to her, how she had repressed THOSE kinds of thoughts about him for years.

And how, subconsciously, she had compared all online dominants to him and found them to be lacking—until she Master Enigma—Daddy—err, Max. Her dreams the evening before had starred Max, only she wanted to hide from that fact in her unconscious. Part of her reveled because THIS felt right, finally, even as she mourned what could never be.

"What I USUALLY do?" he bit off and then waved a frustrated hand. "Forget that for a second. Who exactly do you think that 'friend with complications' is?"

"Kendall?" Cassie offered. "Lucinda?" At his head shake, she grew even more confused. "Who, then?"

He tapped her on the nose playfully. Wait! Max—playful? "Let me explain the complications. She is nine years younger than I am. To tell you the truth, I once had to change her diaper, even. Add in the complication that her brother is my best friend—that's incredibly awkward. A normal 'nilla relationship would be difficult, but spanking her and tying her down so she's at my mercy and still hanging out with her brother as if there's nothing unusual?" Max snorted.

"Me?" Cassie squeaked, unable to comprehend much beyond that.

Max nodded. "You. You who tempted me, made my fingers itch to pull you over my knee and thrash you since I punched that guy out at your prom. You were an angel, and he wanted to destroy that innocence that night." His voice had risen, and she scrambled off his lap in fear—though not of him. He stood and began stalking about the room.

"And, then, to accept, that night you came to me crying, that I would never be your first, would never take you to the pleasurable heights of what I could give you."

"So, I was tainted from that time to you?" her voice quavered, and he saw her lip tremble.

Stopping short in front of her, Max clenched his fingers around her face, framing it. "No!" his voice thundered. "Not that. Never that." His thumb traced her lips as if he couldn't believe she were real.

"I came to you," she broke the charged silence, uncomfortable. "I didn't go to the one I thought had made me pregnant. I didn't go to Zander or my parents. I went to you because I trusted you. I still trust you," she trailed off.

"But what does that mean for now?" she wondered aloud, finding her voice again. Her eyes were bleak.

Max collapsed beside her on the sofa, pulling her against him. He tucked her head under his chin before speaking. "It means, little one, that you are MINE. You are my baby girl and my submissive. To the outside world, to the 'nilla world—including with our families, you are my girlfriend."

"What about the complications? They are still there," she reminded him.

Her head snapped up at his low rumbling growl. "After last night, after this morning, after the last several minutes, there is no complication that is going to keep me away from you. Today begins your training, my little one. The reality of every fantasy we've ever had brought to life." He released his breath on a groan, and Cassie thought she'd upset him again. "That picture you sent me tempted me so much. But you were foolish to send it. For all you knew, I could have been some crazed serial murderer. That crop is going to pepper your ass shortly."

Blushing, Cassie trembled, then yelped when his hand smacked her ass. Even through her nightgown and her fluffy robe, she felt the heat from his swat burn her curved bottom.

He chuckled low in his throat. "Ah, baby girl, now we are going to have some fun."

"Fun?" Cassie's eyes widened.

Nodding, Max stroked the reddish brown cloud of her hair. "Remember last week when you mentioned in the room that you had the 'perfect outfit' to reveal your submission to me?"

Cassie's answering slow up-and-down nod warmed him.

"Then, my sweet gentle pet, I expect you to go dress up in that outfit and fix your hair properly for me. I will gather some toys to aid in your training. Is that acceptable, my little one?"

At her enthusiastic wordless nod, he lifted her from him and set her in motion with another thwack to her ass. Her lower lips dripped with the honeyed juices deep within.

"I will be back in an hour, and I will let myself in. You will be ready and will present yourself to me just as you did in the room last night. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," the words bubbled naturally from her lips. He grinned and winked his approval.

Cassie turned and scampered—there was no other word for it—to her room to make preparations.

From the chest under her bed, she pulled several items that she had secreted away. Sheer white thigh-high stockings. A little white bustier with soft pink ribbons. A short white flirty skirt that tickled her right at mid-thigh. White silky-soft cotton panties came next. An audible clack of white platform Mary Janes. With a sigh, she removed at last two pink silk ribbons that perfectly matched the pink of her nipples.

Noting the clock and knowing that Max was a stickler for punctuality, she decided she must hurry. Quickly stepping into a shower—no time for a long, lingering soak in the tub, she shaved her legs, her underarms, and touched up her sensitive pussy lips.

In the steamy oasis of the bathroom, she ran a wood-backed brush through her auburn hair until it crackled. Then, she smoothed the often-unruly strands into two side ponytails, securing them with the pink ribbons that she tied into bows. With trembling fingers, she donned the rest of the ensemble. To finish her look, she highlighted her eyes with a layer of black mascara and her lips with a soft pink gloss.

With one last glance in the mirror, she determined to make the living room more presentable for what was to occur. She lit several candles, white votives and tapers, and soon the room warmed with a soft vanilla-perfumed glow. Cassie knew Daddy would see the irony of that particular scent choice. One finishing touch: she set the crop on the coffee table with a click that sounded like a gunshot in the silence.

Three minutes before his key—for, as her closest neighbor, Max had a set of keys to her home and she to his—she settled into the pose she had typed herself into only last evening. Cassie knelt, her hands clasped behind her back, said back arched to offer herself to him, her eyes bright as they gazed serenely at the door awaiting his arrival.

Max's key jangled in the lock, and Cassie's back straightened. Her breasts threatened to spill from the cups of her bustier from the force of her breathing. As his black-booted feet came into view, she had to will her shy gaze to meet his eyes.

The frank admiration she viewed there made her blush. He set down his briefcase with a thud. Cassie looked up at him with a curious tilt to her head. Ignoring her unspoken question, he reached out to fondle her pigtails.

**********

An hour earlier...

Reluctantly, Max left out of Cassie's front door with a lighter step than he had walked in months. With an admiring glance at her immaculately kept flower beds with their pink-and-white annuals, her house reflected her usually sunny personality.

The lightness of his heart and step had nothing to do with getting some (which he was sure, by night's end, that he would) or that there would be a scene he would be participating in (which would definitely happen). No, those happy feelings whizzing through him could only be due to the fact that Cassie... was... his... FINALLY.

Garth Brooks's "Friends in Low Places" sounded, and he knew who was on the other end of the line before he looked at the Caller ID. "Hey, Zan my man, what's up?"

"Dude! Did you forget that we were supposed to go boat shopping today?"

Max groaned. Zander had finally saved up enough money to buy the fishing boat of his dreams. And he had promised Zander that he would go with him to buy it today because his truck already had the trailer hitch for the boat.

Imagining Cassie's disappointment when he canceled, he tried to backpedal. But he knew he owed this to his friend.

"The pause says everything, man," Zander's usual laughing tone was subdued.

Then, Max had a brilliant idea. "Zan, I'm sorry; I forgot. If you want, you could drive my truck to pick it up. Borrow it all day, if you want. I'm not planning on driving anywhere today. And, then, you and I can go out on the lake tomorrow after lunch." He hoped Cassie would understand.

"Okay," Zander seemed to accept that idea. "Is it okay if Cass comes along? You can invite Lucinda, if you want. And I'll invite Cami or someone. I'm a bit worried about Cass. She let it slip that she's been going in chat rooms looking for a guy. That's not safe, man. She could meet some weirdo like you that likes that whips and chains stuff."

Max laughed weakly. Zander knew of his dominant tendencies and did not judge him for them. He poked gentle fun of them and did not understand them, but didn't judge. But what about when Zander discovered Max's relationship with his baby sister?

He shook his head, knowing that Cassie's family—including Zander—would have to be told tomorrow. But tomorrow was another day. "Yes, that's fine. I won't be bringing Lucinda, though. I've moved on from her. I'll bring my new girl. This is the one."

On the other end of the line, Zander snorted. "I'll believe that when I see it. Listen, I'm on my way to your house right now," Zander said, and Max noted his truck pulling up.

"Here you go," Max offered the keys to Zander. Zander parked his truck, slipped out, slid into Max's, and sped away with a wave of his hand.

Max looked down at his watch. Fifty minutes until Cassie's training was to begin. Unlocking his door, he picked up the briefcase he kept in the front closet. It was empty, he knew, but he would soon fill it with all manner of items needed for Cassie's training.

He walked to the door just down the hall from his bedroom that usually remained locked. Maybe tomorrow his sweet baby girl would be ready to enter that room of diabolically sartorial delights, but tonight he would ease her into her training and would bring only a sampling of the pleasures and torments beyond that locked door.

Pushing the key into the lock, he smiled with satisfaction as the tumblers clicked into place and the door opened with nary a creak. The light he turned on revealed a chair, a St. Andrew's cross, a low table, and a chest to be the only furniture in the room.

Not sparing anything but the chest a second thought, he strode to the chest and lifted open. This intentionally creaked. Opening the briefcase, he quickly and efficiently began adding items to the empty case. Four measures of coiled rope, black. A box of condoms. He would discuss with Cassie the need for her to be on the pill. A plug. A dildo. A vibrator. A blindfold. A gag. Alligator clip nipple clamps.

Max snapped the case closed. Half an hour remaining before he could see her again. Turning on the shower, he stripped. He walked over to his closet and methodically removed clothes: black pants, white shirt, and black boots.

A brief shower and shave, and then he pulled on his clothes. When he looked at his watch, he still had ten minutes to kill. To kill that time, he logged on to the chat room. Instantly, he was assaulted with private messages from Lucinda.

SaucySub: I haven't heard from you lately. Why haven't you been answering my messages?

SaucySub: Yoohoo!

SaucySub: Is she who is keeping you away?

SaucySub: You know she's never going to do anything with you.

That did it!

Master Enigma: Yes, she is! In fact, I'm beginning her training right now!

With that, Max slammed the laptop shut, narrowly avoiding breaking it. He stood, checked his watch, grinned, and grabbed his briefcase as he left the house.

When he got to the door, he considered knocking or ringing the doorbell, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she waited just on the other side of the door as he had directed.

He slid the key in the lock and turned it, opening the door with one smooth motion. The sight that met him as he entered stopped his heart.

His pet. His baby girl. His Cassie. Perfection in white and pink. Every fantasy he'd ever had of her realized. Max's eyes lit on the heaving flesh above the cups of her bustier. What he had only imagined before last night, the picture now allowed his mind to fill in the blanks. He felt his dick harden considerably.

Max glanced approvingly round the softly lit room. A whiff of vanilla teased his nostrils as did the scent that was indescribably Cassie. He inhaled again and nearly growled. Her scent mingled with that of the soft tangy musk of her desire. Her desire for him, he marveled. Of what was to come.

He set down his briefcase and reached to stroke her side ponytails.

The phone shattered the communal silence. Two pairs of eyes glanced at the phone, lit up, ringing, and vibrating. Cassie's eyes slid to meet Max's. He nodded, granting permission, and she scampered up to answer it on the third ring.

"Hello?" she asked, somewhat breathlessly. Cassie felt Max's eyes stroke over her body. "Zander? You did!? That's wonderful! Now? Umm...I'm on a...date. Yes, a real date. No, not on the computer, so, no, you can't bring the boat over for me to see."

A pause happened as Cassie listened. "No, it's not that I don't want to see it. Tomorrow? After lunch? Bring my date? Max will bring his new girlfriend?" Cassie glared at Max who struggled—and failed—to appear innocent. "Okay, FINE! Yes, I'll be safe. No, that isn't your business, Zander. No, it just isn't. Goodbye, Zander." Cassie clicked "END" and placed the phone back on the coffee table before settling, full kneel, at Max's feet.

He reached down to fondle her pigtails again. "My beautiful little one," he crooned, sliding his fingers down her cheek, tickling gently, then pulling her up by the chin to standing. Taking her right pigtail in a more firm grip, he walked her over to the sofa where he sat down.

Max patted his knees expectantly. "Over my knees, Cass. You know what to do. We've discussed this." This wasn't Max. Cassie wasn't sure if it were Daddy, even. The imperious tone could only be that of Master.

Numbly, she bent over, settling so that her bum crested over his knees, fully presented to him. As he guided her by her hair to the sofa, her pussy flooded with the nectar of her arousal; her white silky panties were soaked.

He knew, as she lay on his lap like prey about to flee, that she was confused and anxious. She had every reason for her anxiety; this was not going to be a sensual spanking or even a training. This was discipline, correction, and it was long overdue. "Do you have any questions, little girl?"

"Is this punishment, Daddy?" To her ears, her voice seemed small and far away.

He smoothed a hand down her back, easing some of the trepidation. "Yes, my baby. Even Zander recognized and told me of the danger of your actions, trying to meet someone online—and he didn't even know that you were offering yourself up to a Master, stripping for him, revealing yourself to him. So, that's the more severe part of your punishment to be discussed later.

"For bratting early this morning, you will have ten swats on your bare bottom." He smoothed his hand over her ass, and she cooed for him, relaxing further. As to the more severe punishment: ten on the bare, no movement, no reaching back to soothe, counting each strike, with the crop. It's time to properly break your new toy in."