đ âDaddyâs Little Problemâ - Christopher Bahng đ
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Mean dom!Daddy dynamics, Power exchange, Strict obedience rules, Spanking (with belt), Orgasm denial, Overstimulation, Face-fucking, Degradation, Spit play, Dirty talk, Brat-taming, Light choking, Fingering, Oral (f receiving + m receiving), Impact play, Punishment sex, Soft aftercare, Possessiveness, Slight humiliation, Control play, Mild emotional manipulation, Rough sex, Praise kink
Youâd been testing him all day.
It started smallâjust a little extra attitude when he asked you to do something. A sarcastic âYes, Daddyâ here, a rolled eye there. But the more you poked, the more fun it got. The heat in his gaze sharpened every time you pushed a little further, and you liked the danger that came with it. The tension. The warning he kept swallowing down.
You sent him a mirror pic while he was out: one of his oversized shirts hanging off your bare shoulders, your thighs on full display, a pout on your lips like you were missing him⊠but no panties in sight. When he didnât respond, you doubled down. The next pic had your fingers just under the hem, your caption innocent: âStill bored. Miss you, Daddy.â
You didnât get a text back.
He said your full name, slow and even. You bit your lip.
Then came the voice. Low. Cold. Controlled. âPut the phone down and go to your room.â
âIâm not fucking playing with you.â
Something about how calm he was made your stomach twist. You were used to his firm tone, the clipped orders he gave when you were being a brat. But thisâthis was quiet, lethal. No raised voice. No ranting.
You swallowed. âWhat should I wear?â
âI said nothing. On your knees. Door unlocked. Donât make me tell you twice.â
You wait now, naked, knees digging into the carpet, hands resting obediently on your thighs. The room is silent except for the sound of your breath, uneven and fast. Your body is already warming with anticipation, but itâs the unknown that sets your nerves on edge. You donât know how angry he isâyou donât know what version of Daddy is about to walk through that door.
But you know you deserve it. You wanted this. You asked for it with every little thing you did today.
The front door clicks open.
Boots hit the floor. A jacket lands somewhere in the hallway. Slow, measured footsteps make their way toward the bedroomâand then the doorknob turns.
Christopher steps in like a storm held back by leash.
His eyes drag over your bodyânaked, waiting, mouth parted from the shallow breaths youâre trying to calm. His sleeves are already rolled up, and heâs still in his jeans, muscles tight beneath the fitted black shirt he wears when heâs in no mood to be gentle.
You brace for somethingâyelling, maybe. A smart remark. But all he does is walk toward you and stop a foot away.
âYou think Iâm stupid?â
Your lips part, but you hesitate.
He cocks his head. âYou think I donât know what youâre doing?â
You open your mouth again, but he crouches low before you can speak, one hand gripping your jaw hard enough to still it.
âI said no talking unless I tell you to.â
The pressure in his grip makes your thighs squeeze together instinctively.
âCute pictures,â he mutters, voice dropping further. âYou trying to act like youâre desperate for me?â
His hand slides down your throat, thumb stroking the hollow beneath your chin. âOr were you trying to act like a slut?â
That word always makes your breath hitch, but especially when it comes from his mouthâflat, biting, precise.
He leans close. âYouâve got five seconds to be honest.â
âIââ You breathe out. âI wanted your attention.â
He hums, disappointed. âOh, baby. You got it.â
His hand leaves your throat, only to crack hard against your thigh. You yelp, instinctively jerking back, but he grabs your arm and yanks you forward again, forcing you to stay still.
You nod. âYes, Daddy.â
He stands, looming over you. His belt is still on. Youâre not even sure if heâs going to undress. For a second, you wonder if this is going to be one of those times where he just uses you and leaves you ruined.
âOn the bed. Face down. Now.â
Your body obeys before your mind can catch up.
The mattress dips behind you, and you hear the soft rustle of him adjusting his clothesâbut heâs still not undressing. Just circling the bed, watching you breathe through the nerves, watching the way your ass clenches involuntarily.
âYouâve got thirty seconds to remember what respect looks like,â he says coolly. âBecause Iâm not here to be sweet tonight.â
You stay exactly where he left you: face down, legs spread slightly, arms tucked beneath the pillow. Waiting.
The air shifts as he moves behind you, slow, measured steps like a predator pacing its prize. You canât see him, but you feel himâfeel the weight of his gaze tracing your spine, feel the goosebumps rise on your skin from the heat of his silence alone.
âStill canât believe you thought that shit was cute,â he mutters, voice low as his hand drags along the curve of your ass. âSending me pictures like some bored little slut. You think Daddyâs gonna drop everything and come running just because you showed some skin?â
His palm cracks against your cheekâloud, sharp, not enough to bruise, but enough to make your hips jolt and your lips part on a gasp.
His fingers wrap tight in your hair and yank your head back until your neck arches. âNo what?â
You choke on your breath. âNo, Daddy. I donât think youâd drop everything.â
He leans in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear. âThen why the fuck did you try me?â
âIâI wanted you to notice me.â
âOh, I noticed. I noticed how desperate you are for attention. Acting out like a brat. Like a whore who forgot who she belongs to.â
His grip releases, and you drop forward again with a whimper. He drags his belt from his pants with one slow pull, the sound sending a fresh jolt through your nerves.
âYou want Daddyâs attention?â he says, folding the belt in half. âYouâve got it now. Donât you dare waste it.â
The first lash hits your ass and you cry out, the sting blooming fast across your skin.
The next lands a second later. âTwo.â
He keeps count. Five, six, sevenâeach one punctuated with a cold breath and a slow step around the bed as he watches you squirm. He doesnât let up until your thighs are trembling and your body is twitching with every brush of air against your skin.
âGreen,â you breathe, barely able to form the word.
âGood girl,â he says, but itâs not sweet. Itâs mocking. âAt least you can still remember that much.â
He tosses the belt aside and crawls onto the bed behind you, one hand bracing beside your head while the other grabs your jaw and pulls your face toward his.
You try. Your lashes are wet and your eyes wide, but you look.
He leans in until his forehead touches yours. âSay it like you mean it.â
âDaddy,â you whisper, and his mouth curls.
His hand snakes between your thighs and cups you, fingers pressing into the heat already slick between your folds.
âYouâre dripping,â he growls, rubbing just enough to tease but not satisfy. âYouâre fucking soaked. You like getting put in your place that bad, huh?â
You nod frantically. âYes, Daddy.â
âYou like being Daddyâs little problem? His bratty little thing that needs to be broken down before she listens?â
He cuts you off with a hand over your mouth, muffling the moan that spills out when he slides two fingers inside you without warning. His pace is punishing from the startâno warm-up, no easing inâjust hard thrusts that make your hips jerk against the mattress.
âYou donât talk unless I say,â he reminds you coldly, fingers curling inside you. âGood girls donât need to speak. They just take it.â
You nod again, eyes rolling as your body starts to shake. He pulls out too quickly, leaving you empty and breathless.
âDonât even think about coming,â he warns. âYou havenât earned that.â
You hear the clink of his zipper, the shuffle of denim, and then the bed dips lower as he straddles behind you.
âI could fuck your mouth right now,â he mutters, grabbing the base of your neck and pressing down lightlyâjust enough to remind you heâs in control. âI could bend you in half and fuck the attitude out of you. But you donât get that yet. You get to feel Daddyâs disappointment.â
You whimper, desperate and needy and burning.
âI want it, Daddy. Pleaseââ
His hand slaps your ass again, harder than before. âWhat did I just say?â
You fall silent immediately.
âYou speak when I tell you. Not before. Understand?â
âYou donât get to want. You get to obey.â
He grabs your hips and drags you back toward him roughly, chest pressed to your back as he grinds against your assâhard cock rubbing where you want him most, but never giving it to you.
âGod, look at you,â he snarls. âWrecked from nothing. And you still think youâre in control?â
He pulls your hair to tilt your head back. âYouâre mine. You donât get to mouth off. You donât get to tease. You donât even get to come unless I say so. Say it.â
âIâm yours,â you gasp. âIâm yours, Daddy.â
âThatâs right,â he growls. âYouâll remember that next time you think about acting up.â
He shoves you flat again and climbs off the bed, walking away without another word. The silence stretches long enough to make you think itâs overâlike this was your punishment and heâs leaving you like this on purpose.
But then you hear water running in the bathroom.
Heâs letting you sit with it. Letting you feel the ache. The anticipation. The shame and the heat tangled together so tightly you canât separate them anymore.
By the time he comes back, youâre shaking with need.
He smirks at the sight of you still face-down, still obedient, still silent.
âMaybe youâre finally learning.â
And then he reaches for you againâcalm, deliberateâgripping your hips before flipping you like you weigh nothing, dragging you to the center of the bed and letting your legs fall open.
"Look at this mess," he mutters, eyes locked between your thighs. "All from getting scolded. All from being reminded who you belong to."
You're so wet it's obscene, and he doesn't even try to hide how amused he is by that fact. One hand slides down your chest, fingers circling your nipple until it peaks from attention, then lower-slow, maddening strokes that never quite touch where you need them.
"You want Daddy to touch you?"
You nod instantly. "Yes, please-"
His palm smacks your thigh again, just a warning this time.
"What did I tell you about speaking without permission?"
You whimper, biting your lip.
He grabs your jaw, squeezes. "Use your words, sweetheart. Or Daddy walks out."
"IâI want you, Daddy," you manage. "Please touch me."
He hums like he's still not convinced.
You blink up at him, dazed.
"You want my fingers?" he says, voice sharp.
"My tongue? My cock? You better say it right."
Your throat bobs. "I want your fingers, Daddy."
He rewards you with a slow, deliberate stroke through your folds, pausing just to rub your clit with the pads of two fin v. You twitch beneath the touch, your whole body arching toward it.
"Greedy," he murmurs. "Needy little brat finally begging like she should."
He pushes two fingers in again, curling them instantly, and the sound you make is somewhere between a sob and a moan. But he doesn't give you a rhythmânot right away. He just strokes, deep and slow, the drag of his fingers purposeful, taunting.
"I could make you come right now," he says quietly. "You'd lose it in thirty seconds. I can feel how close you are already. But.."
He pulls out just as slow as he entered.
"...that's not how brats get off."
You whimper, hips lifting instinctively, but he presses your stomach down flat with one firm hand.
He chuckles. "Say it again."
You feel your whole body melt under the praise, desperate for more. But he doesn't reward you right away. Instead, he drags his fingers along your lips, making you taste yourself.
You do, lips parting automatically. He slides two fingers in and presses down on your tongue, watching the way your throat contracts as you try not to choke.
You moan around them, sucking like it's instinct-like it's the only way to keep him happy. He lets you for a second, then pulls them out and grabs your hair, guiding you down to your knees.
You do. You settle between his legs, eyes wide and obedient as you take him in hand. He's already hardâso hard it pulses in your palm-and you look up through your lashes as you lean forward and drag your tongue along the base.
"Don't tease," he says flatly. "This isn't about you."
You nod and wrap your lips around the tip, sucking him in slowly, inch by inch until your mouth is full and your throat begins to ache. His hand tangles in your hair the second you take him deeper, holding your head still before thrusting gently, testing you.
"Just like that," he mutters. "Don't pull away."
You don't. You let him use your mouth, let him thrust and fuck into it with lazy control, your jaw starting to throb as tears prick the corners of your eyes. You try to breathe through your nose, keep your lips stretched wide, stay focused.
"Look at that," he groans. "You're actually useful when you're quiet."
He pulls out just as your eyes start to water and drags your face up by your chin.
"You need a reminder of what Daddy's mouth feels like too, huh?"
You don't answer. You don't have to. He's already flipping you again, pushing your thighs apart, lowering himself between your legs without a single word. His tongue drags through your folds once, slow and firm, and your back arches off the bed.
"Keep your legs open," he growls. "Don't move. Or l stop."
You nod through the haze and grab handfuls of the sheets as he starts to eat you out like he means it.
It's messy, hot, punishingâhis tongue flicking against your clit in just the right rhythm to make your thighs shake. His hands hold your hips down like a warning, like he knows your body's already trying to run from how good it feels.
"Daddyâ" You gasp. "I'm close-please, I-"
You cry out, hips jerking. "Please!"
"Did I say you could come?"
You shake your head wildly, tears brimming again.
"Then shut up and take what I give you."
He slaps your inner thighâhard enough to make you clench-and starts over, licking slower now, dragging it out, alternating between soft flicks and flat licks until you're practically sobbing.
"You gonna be good now?" he mutters into your pussy. "Gonna listen when Daddy gives you rules?"
"Yes, Daddy-yes, I promise-"
He pulls back again, eyes sharp.
You obey instantly, and he grabs your hips, dragging your ass up high and planting your face into the pillows.
"You don't get to come," he mutters as he rubs the head of his cock along your folds. "Not until I say.
Not until I break that brat streak out of you."
And then he pushes in-slow but deep-and your whole body shakes with the force of it.
He doesn't thrust yet. Just stays there, buried to the hilt, one hand splayed on your lower back while the other grips your hair.
"You take what I give you. Or you get nothing."
His hips pull back-then slam forward. Once. Hard.
You cry out into the sheets and he laughs, low and cruel.
"Oh, baby," he murmurs. "We're just getting started." he finishes darkly, slamming into you again, this time without pause.
Your gasp is muffled by the pillows, your body jolting forward from the force. He grabs your hips tighter, pulling you back with each ruthless thrust, setting a brutal rhythm that's more punishment than pleasure-and yet, your body is already clenching around him, soaking everything between your thighs.
"This what you wanted?" he growls, bending low over your back. "You wanted Daddy to fuck the attitude out of you?"
You whimper, nodding furiously.
His hips piston harder, faster-his cock dragging along every sensitive spot with merciless precision.
You can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything except take it. And that's exactly how he wants you.
"Fucking tight," he mutters, watching the way you clench around him. "Bratty little holes don't deserve to feel this full."
You whine at the filthy words, face burning with shame and heat and a desperate, desperate need to come.
"Don't even think about it," he growls again, reading your body like a threat. "You come without permission, and I'll edge you for hours."
"-I'm trying," you sob, knuckles white from gripping the sheets. "I'm trying, Daddy, please-"
His fingers wrap around your throat from behind, yanking you back against his chest. He's so deep now, the angle dizzying, the stretch delicious and overwhelming.
You nod frantically. "Yes, Daddy."
"Let me feel it. Let me feel you struggle not to fall apart."
He keeps fucking into you-deep, slow now, dragging it out just to watch you shake. His other hand slides between your legs, teasing your clit again just barely, just enough to tip you further toward the edge.
"You're close again, aren't you?"
He pulls out without warning.
Your scream is almost broken.
You collapse onto the bed, hips twitching, pussy fluttering helplessly around nothing. Your body is begging, crying, aching-but he just stands beside the bed, calm as ever, stroking himself lazily.
"Such a mess," he murmurs. "And you're gonna stay like that until I say."
Tears finally spill down your cheeks, your voice cracking. "Please, Daddy-I'll be good. I'll be so good, I promise."
He hums, amused. "Now you want to behave."
He leans down, grabs your jaw again, forcing you to meet his eyes. "You wanna prove it?"
He guides you onto your back again, legs spread wide, and then straddles your waist, cock slick and heavy in his fist.
"Open your mouth. And keep it open."
You obey without hesitation. He strokes himself once, twice more-and then lets a thick glob of spit fall directly onto your tongue.
He lifts off you, dragging his cock along your inner thigh on the way back down between your legs.
"I'm gonna let you come," he says slowly, positioning himself at your entrance again. "But not until I say. And if you're lying, if you break-" he pauses, smile sharp. "âI'll make you cry for real."
"I can take it," you breathe.
And then he's fucking into you again, hard and deep and fastâno buildup, no mercy. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, and your cries are high, desperate, edging into sobs as his pace stays relentless.
"Now," he growls. "You come now."
Your whole body arches as the orgasm rips through you-loud, wet, overwhelming. You cry out his name, over and over, legs trembling violently as he fucks you through it.
"That's it," he mutters, still pounding into you.
"Come for Daddy. Just like that."
Your orgasm seems endless. You're gasping, shaking, twitching-and he doesn't stop.
He grabs your legs and pushes them up, folding you in half, his cock slamming even deeper now as the overstimulation sets in. Another orgasm threatens, too soon, too sharp, but you can't stop it.
"You'll take what I give you," he growls. "I'm not done with you yet."
You cry out again as the second orgasm crashes through you, body convulsing, tears streaking your cheeks. You're so full, so sore, so utterly wrecked-and he's still going.
His pace stutters only slightly.
And then-low, rough-"Gonna fill you up."
Your walls clench at the threat.
"Gonna come in this bratty pussy. Gonna make sure you remember who you belong to every time it drips down your thighs."
You whimper, too wrecked to respond.
And then he growls-deep, feral-as he slams one final time and spills inside you, cock twitching with every wave of his orgasm. You feel it hot and heavy, filling you so deep it makes you shake again.
He stays there, panting, holding you down like he still doesn't trust you not to misbehave.
Only when his breathing slows does he start to move-gently now. His voice softer, but still firm.
You nod weakly. "Yes, Daddy."
He leans down, kisses your temple.
He pulls out slowly, careful, and you both watch the way his cum leaks from between your thighâ messy, obscene.
He disappears briefly, returns with a warm towel and soft hands, cleaning you with surprising tenderness. He helps you sit up, then lifts you into his lap like you're breakable now, rocking you gently against his chest.
"There she is," he murmurs, rubbing your back.
"My needy little brat. You learned your lesson?"
You nod into his neck, voice hoarse. "Yes, Daddy."
Christopher doesnât let you move right away.
He holds you close, your body still trembling from everything he just put you through. His arms are strong around you, but not controllingânot anymore. Just protective. Anchoring. One hand cups the back of your head while the other traces slow, grounding circles along your spine.
Youâre still catching your breath against his neck, every inhale hitching like your lungs forgot how to work.
âShh,â he murmurs, lips brushing your temple. âYou did so good, sweetheart.â
The shift in his voice makes your throat tighten. No edge now. Just warmth. Pride.
âProud of you,â he says softly. âSo fucking proud.â
He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then pulls back just enough to look you in the eyesâthumb brushing away the wetness under them like it pains him to see it.
You nod, but your lips tremble. âYeah. Just⊠full.â
His brow furrows slightly, gentle concern blooming there. âToo much?â
âNo,â you whisper. âJust⊠overwhelmed.â
He lets out a breath like heâs been holding it too. âOkay. Come here.â
He lifts you with both arms and carries you to the bathroom without another word. The soft light glows against his skin as he sets you down carefully on the edge of the tub, testing the water with his hand before adjusting the temperature.
âYouâre not lifting a finger,â he says, voice calm and sure. âDaddyâs got you.â
The bath fills slowly with warmth, and once heâs certain itâs perfect, he helps you inâhands steady, movements patient. The water wraps around you like a blanket, and the second youâre settled, he climbs in behind you, pulling you back against his chest.
You sigh. All the tension in your limbs slowly unspools.
He holds you like youâre precious now.
No commands. No punishment. Just safety.
His hands stroke your arms underwater, occasionally bringing one to his lips for a kiss.
âYouâre okay,â he murmurs. âYouâre safe.â
You nod slowly, resting your head back on his shoulder.
âI meant it,â he adds, quieter. âYou were perfect.â
Your eyes burn againâbut this time, itâs not from being broken. Itâs from being held after.
He bathes you gently, washing between your legs with care and murmuring soft apologies every time your body flinches. When youâre clean and relaxed, he wraps you in a thick towel and carries you to bed, dressing you in one of his softest shirts.
The room smells faintly of the lotion he rubs into your thighs, your back, your handsâslow and tender, like each touch is part of an apology.
You donât even realize youâve dozed off until you feel the bed dip beside you. He climbs in close and pulls you into his arms again, tucking your face under his chin.
âI love you like this,â you whisper, half-asleep.
He chuckles, low and sweet. âYou like getting ruined and put back together, huh?â
You smile, eyes fluttering shut. âOnly if itâs you.â
You feel his lips press to your forehead, and then your nose, and finally your lips.
He holds you all night. And this time, you dream soft.
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