Page 31 of Morally Gray Daddies

Clara’s head jerked up, horror and disbelief spreading across her face as she stared up at me.

“What?” The same horror and disbelief in her expression was clear in her voice.

“Spread your legs so I can clean you.” I held up the toilet paper, smirking as understanding leaked into her eyes, but the previous emotions remained. The idea of me wiping her clean horrified her, and she was struggling to believe that I truly wanted to.

Yesterday, the thought would have never occurred to me.

But right here, right now, at this moment, I wanted to put another stamp of my ownership on her. To demonstrate how fully I had access to every part of her, to show her that she could not deny me.

“No!” She squeezed her legs together, hands crossed over them to hold on to her knees. Her beaded dress shifted around her as her shoulders hunched.

“Now, babydoll. Spread your legs for Daddy. You will not like what happens if I have to do it for you.” Truthfully, I wasn’t entirely sure what I would do if she forced the issue, but I was sure I would come up with something. And I very much doubted she would enjoy whatever I came up with.

But what I wanted was for her to do it herself. To acquiesce to my demand. To submit to me.

I stared down at her, waiting, enjoying the growing heat in her cheeks, the way her gaze shifted away. She was going to do it.

“Last chance, babydoll. Five, four, three, two?—”

Closing her eyes, she gulped and spread her legs just before I could say ‘one.’

Crouching down in front of her, I blessed the invention of indoor plumbing and my uncle’s need to have the latest of everything in his home. If she had not been sitting, it might have been more difficult to convince her to do this—she might have tried to run if she’d been crouched over the pot instead of trapped atop the toilet.

The delicious feeling of power spread through me as I ran the paper between her pussy lips, wiping clean the area that I was going to be fucking very, very soon. My cock ached, throbbing as I put another stamp of ownership on her our relationship. She let out a little whine as I touched her, wiping her, her brow furrowed as if she couldn’t believe this was happening to her.

Pulling away, I folded the paper over and dropped it in the waste basket beside the toilet, moving to the sink to wash my hands. Beside me, Clara pressed her legs back together, dropping her head down in shame.

I couldn’t wait anymore.

Wiping my hands dry on the towel, I spun and lifted her body off the toilet, ignoring her gasp.

“Gio! Stop!”

“It’s Daddy now,” I said, striding into our room. Our room. “And no.”

I tossed her onto the bed, her skirt still rucked up about her waist, panties around her ankles. Her blue eyes were wide open now and dazed as she stared up at me. Tugging at my bowtie, I pulled it off and reached for her. She tried to bat my hand away, which was exactly what I needed to grab hold of her arm.

It took me less than a minute to tie her wrists together, securing them and then stretching her arms out above her head to tie the ends to the headboard.

“Daddy! Please!” she squealed as I leaned over her, keeping her pinned in place with my weight against her body as I secured her to the bed.

“Please, what, babydoll?” I asked, pulling back to admire my handiwork before looking down at her. She looked so small beneath me, so delicate, her breasts heaving against her dress. Damn. I should have taken that off first. I wanted access to her whole body, and the fashionable necklines were too damned high these days.

With my knees planted between her thighs, she was forced to bend at the waist, her legs on either side of mine, leaving her pink pussy open and vulnerable. She made a very pretty picture like that, but I still wanted access to her breasts.

Grabbing hold of the neckline, since she wasn’t answering me anyway, I ripped. Clara shrieked in dismay as tiny beads went flying through the air, the sound of them hitting the floor like a little patter of rain that kept falling even after the fabric was done ripping.

“What are you doing?!”

“This.”

I hadn’t needed to rip the dress very far, just far enough to be able to pull the fabric away from her breasts. Cupping the twin peaks between my hands, I lowered my face to them, immediately seeking out one nipple with my teeth while I squeezed the soft flesh, digging my fingers in hard enough to make her squeal and squirm beneath me.

Clara

He’d ripped my wedding dress.

I shouldn’t care, but I did, and I was mad, but there was nothing I could do about it. I was utterly helpless beneath him. Tied to his bed. My pussy still tingled where he’d wiped me clean, my clit throbbing from that tiny touch, nonsexual though it had been.

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