Page 31 of Daddy's Justice

“Your hair is so thick.”

“You sound mad about that.”

“It is making it hard to get you out of the tub and onto the bed.”

“I can rinse it myself,” she said, turning behind me to grab the cup.

I swatted the offending hand away. “No, little goddess. I’ll do it.”

“Really, it is no problem, let me do it.”

So much for her learning to submit.

“I know you are not arguing with your Daddy and adding swats to the spanking you already have coming tonight.”

I heard her gasp and grinned to myself. She had forgotten, I hadn’t.

“Ummm, no, Daddy.”

“That’s what I thought.” I filled up the water again and worked on finishing the task at hand. Her hair was thick, but soft, feminine. It was long, like all the valkyries, and I found it interesting that, even though she didn’t know who she was, some things, like keeping her hair long, were instinctual. “Stand up, little goddess. Daddy needs to clean you.”

“I thought you were in a hurry to get out of the shower and into bed.”

“And I thought you were done sassing your Daddy.” I lifted her from under her arms to standing, swatting her butt with two firm slaps before reaching around her to flip the switch, so that the water now flowed from the showerhead above us.

“Ow!” Her small hands flew back to rub the sting from her behind.

“Move those hands, little goddess. The only person allowed to rub the sting from my spanking away is me.”

She dropped her hands to her sides.

“Good goddess.” Sudsing up the washcloth, I lathered her back, lingering over her hips and perfectly round ass cheeks. Turning her, I cleansed her, washing every inch of her skin, saving between her legs for last. I moved the cloth down and she clenched her legs together, locking my hand out.

“Spread your legs,” I commanded firmly. “Let Daddy clean you.” She looked at me, her eyes wide. I could feel her heart rate and breathing speed up.

“I can”—she reached for the washcloth, trying to yank it from my grasp—“clean there, Daddy. I’m a big girl.”

* * *

Morrigan

I said the wrong thing.

I knew it instantly from the arch of his eyebrow and the set of his jaw. The washcloth was tight between us, the coveted object in a game of tug-of-war, and even though I knew I wouldn’t win, I couldn’t let go. I didn’t know why, but I just couldn’t.

“Let go, Morrigan.”

I tasted the blood from where I bit my lip but felt no pain.

“You don’t want to battle me. Did you not see outside how that would end?”

It had ended with me underneath him, filled with his enormous cock, having the best, let’s face it, the only orgasm of my life. He must have read my thoughts.

“That is not what I meant.” His tone was all growly.

“I, just, I mean, no one has ever cleaned me down there.”

“I’m not no one, am I?”

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