She thinks she dislikes men; dad proves otherwise.
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If there was one thing that Cordy really hated above all other things, it was wet hair. Not the sort of shower wet, fresh and clean really lovely smelling type of wet the drowned rat, really gross limp and matted kind of wet. Yep, that sucked. Her hair, long, dark and brown, had not been made to hang limp over her green eyes. It was not at all a good look. To top it all off, she was muddy and… her shoes were quite, quite ruined. (They’d been such lovely shoes, too… small and dainty and gave her an extra sort of height that she was really quite grateful for.)
The worse part, of course, was that she was late. Dad was going to kill her.
Well, she reflected a little bitterly. That was, if he had actually noticed she was gone in the first place. It was an ironic contradiction of sorts. Her father was strict, but always usually too busy to recognize when she broke his rules. Always that company of his… she could almost swear it was hisrealchild, not her…
She was half-surprised to find him sitting on a chair in the lounge room, reading, when she opened the door and entered the house. She’d expected him to be in his study, typing away on that infernal machine of his, and that she’d be able to sneak past without him noticing. So much forthatidea.
“Hi dad,” Cordy said, a little nervously, stepping into the room.
“Cordelia,” her father nodded. “A little late this evening, are we?”
“Yeah, sorry about that, dad ” Cordy started.
“Where have you been?” her father’s crisp, British tones cut her off. “You’re… wet.”
In more places than one, Cordy thought. After what she and Lila had been doing…
“I was with Lila,” she said truthfully. Inside her, too, sometimes…
Her father raised a brow. “And what were you two doing? Mud wrestling?”
“We were… um…” Cordy’s mind blanked. What to say? She still had the mud on her clothes, her hair was wet… tell him the truth? What, tell her father that his teenage daughter had been fucking her best friend in the rain? She didn’t think so…
“Cordelia.”
She jumped.
“What were you doing?”
She felt her face heating. “We were, um, gardening.”Well, she had had her face in bush…
“At two in the morning?”
“Dad, I ”
“Don’t lie to me, Cordelia.”
“We were kissing.” The words slipped, unbidden, from her lips.
“Ah.” Her father set his book down, delicately, on the table. “And was that all?”
“N-no, dad.”
He gestured at the seat beside him. “Sit down. What else, then?”
She sat, her face hot, her hands shaking slightly. How to tell him?
“We… made love, dad.”
“You fucked,” her father stated.
Cordy blinked. He’d never sworn in her presence before. “Y-yes… I made love with her…”
“You fucked her,” her father repeated, almost as though relishing the words. “You fucked your best friend.”
“Yes, dad.” Cordy said obediently.
“I want you to stop seeing her.” The words were clipped, precise.
“What? No, daddy!” she was aghast.
“I don’t like what you’ve been doing. You’re to stop seeing her, immediately.”
“I I won’t!” Lila was about the only real friend she had… the only one who could stir her blood. Like hell she was going to give that up… just because a man who couldn’t be bothered paying enough attention to notice his daughter was a lesbian was telling her she had to!
Her father raised a brow. “Won’t you, darling?”
She flinched. He never called her that. It was always “Cordelia.” Never “princess” or “sweetheart” or “precious” like the other girls. It was always just “Cordelia”. And now, suddenly, he was calling her by endearments?
“No,” she said, her voice shaking slightly. “I won’t.”
“Ah,” he said, his voice very low. “Ah… then. You’re a dyke, darling? Is that what you think? You want to eat cunt and finger pussy all day, all night?”
“Yes!” she half shouted, defiantly. “Yes, I’m a lesbian! And if you’d paid me the least bit of attention for the last eighteen years, maybe you’d have realized that!”
Her father shook his head, slowly. “You should not speak like that to me, Cordelia,” he said, gravely, as he reached out to take her wrist in his hand, his thumb stroking over her skin. “I am, after all, your father.”
He tugged, suddenly, and she found herself sprawled across his lap.
“And I can still take you over my knee.”
“What?!” Cordy shrieked, struggling. “What are you doing?”
“Disciplining you,” her father said calmly. “I should have done this a long time ago. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had these silly ideas in your head…”
His hand slid down her body, flipping up her skirt, exposing her buttocks, covered by the scrap of white cotton. Pure, he thought. Deceptively innocent. He tugged at the waistband of her panties and she stiffened. “No, daddy,” she pleaded. “Please ”
There was an audible tear as he ripped them off. His hand settled, lightly, over her exposed cheek, and he squeezed, gently.
“Daddy…”
SMACK.
His open palm landed on her bare bottom, and she cried out. Her skin heated and stung. “Daddy, please ”
SMACK.
She squirmed, writhed beneath the arm that kept her down, pinned against him. “Daddy!”
He paused, relishing the sound of his name on her lips. His palm landed again.
She whimpered. “Daddy, I’m sorry…”
He slapped her again. “Sorry, my little slut? Sorry for what? Sorry for the fact that you don’t like cock, and prefer to eat cunt?”
“Yes, daddy, yes! I’m sorry! Please, please… I’m sorry…”
SMACK.
“You’ve been a very bad girl, Cordelia. You know that, don’t you?”
SMACK.
“Yes, daddy, yes…”
His hand stroked over her bottom again, soothing the red, stinging skin. He leaned in, very close to her ear, and whispered, “You’re liking this, aren’t you? You like my hand on your arse… you like the way your skin feels when I hit you.” He pressed his mouth to her ear. “You’re wet.”
Her voice was very, very soft. “No…”
“You’re not a dyke, darling… you just think you are. You think you don’t like cock…?” He took her earlobe into his mouth and suckled. “I’m going to make you beg, for mine…”
SMACK.
“I… won’t,” she gasped.
He smiled. SMACK. “You will.”
She was whimpering, now, squirming, writhing against him. And beneath her stomach, she was feeling a very distinctive bulge. His cock was hard, and rubbing against her through the material of his dressing robe. Her eyes closed, and she whimpered again, feeling his hand smack her arse, again and again…
She shrieked as it slapped against her pussy.
“Daddy!”
She could hear the smile in his voice. “Did you like that, little girl? Did that feel good?”
She groaned. His hand was there, now, between her legs, stroking the folds of her bare, smooth cunt, tracing her lips, running swiftly over her clit. “Oh, god, daddy…”