Daddy Dearest: A Christmas Story Read online

  Daddy Dearest

  A Christmas Story

  By: Rachel Burns

  Daddy Dearest ~ A Christmas Story

  First Edition

  Copyright 2019 Rachel Burns

  Published by Rachel Burns

  Text Copyright © 2019 by Rachel Burns

  All Rights Reserved

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act 1976,

  no part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as the author’s advocating any non-consensual spanking or BDSM activities.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Fifteen Years Earlier

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 1 ~ Sarah

  Chapter 2 ~ Travis

  Other Books and Short Stories By Rachel Burns

  Chapter 1

  Sawyer Dalton looked down at the woman sleeping in his bed. She’d been a part of his life for just over a year now, and he still didn’t know the first thing about her.

  He tried to understand her, but she had too many protective walls built up high around her. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried to figure her out. He’d observed her to the point that he felt that he’d studied her. But he was none the wiser.

  The woman who lived with him side-by-side was a mystery. He had no idea where she came from, how long she would stay or who was chasing her.

  That was one of the few things that he was sure of. She was on the run from someone. Would he be able to protect her when they caught up to her?

  Was she worth protecting?

  He grabbed onto the ropes that were tied around her wrists, wanting to remove them.

  She woke up immediately. Her body twisted, and her rump wiggled in his face as she tried to get her bearings.

  “Lie still,” he demanded.

  “Yes, Master.” Within a heartbeat, her body was still. Her only movement came from her breathing. She was trying to breathe as little as possible.

  “Roll over so your lying face down,” he ordered, knowing without a doubt that she would obey his instructions without hesitation.

  “Yes, Master.” Her voice was soft and sweet, making her sound as if she were an innocent, which he personally knew wasn’t true. She was a pain slut through and through. There was nothing that she wouldn’t do. The submissive in her forced her to obey.

  He tugged her hands high over her head and hooked the ropes to the headboard, which he’d designed himself so it could be used for several of his evil purposes. Thinking that made him grin. He wasn’t evil, but he liked to dominate women, this woman particularly.

  Sawyer moved off to the side and looked down at her naked body. It was creamy and long. No imperfection could be seen anywhere. The light punishment he had given her earlier was already healed. Obviously, he’d been too gentle. That would never satisfy someone like her. She needed him to be rough, or she wouldn’t come.

  Sawyer still wasn’t certain if he should thank her previous master, or if he should beat the shit out of the guy. He had either ruined her or formed her to perfection.

  “Spread your legs,” he demanded.

  He watched as her feet moved apart as if she were making a snow angel in the snow. There was no pause or a moment of indecision before she moved her legs. They parted with the ease of a woman who was completely comfortable in her skin, who knew she had nothing to be ashamed of.

  Sawyer went to the chair where he’d left his belt. It was still looped through his jeans. He pulled it out satisfied with the noise it made. She would know exactly what he was doing, but she showed no sign of fear or eagerness. She remained still, pretending that nothing fazed her.

  It was fun playing with her. He knew what he needed to do to get her to show some reaction.

  She was a tough nut to crack, but the sound she made when she finally came made it all worth it. If she were in a position to do it when she came, she would lean forward and exhale in his ear, making a soft cry that came from deep within her. That had become his favorite sound in the world.

  “Lift up your cute little ass so I have an easier target.”

  “Yes, Master.” His eyes were locked on her as she wiggled into the position that he wanted to see her in. From his standpoint, he could easily see the charms she hid between her legs. She was open like a flower, calling to be pollinated.

  For a short moment, he wondered if it felt as good for a bee to pollinate a flower as if felt for him to fuck her. He doubted it. Nothing felt better than being inside of her. He was positive that every man on the planet wished they could be with her, fucking her every night. But he was the one who got to master her and be with her. It may be very frustrating, but she was worth it in moments like this one.

  He folded his belt in half and stood at the end of the bed, not willing to give up the view she was presenting to him.

  Still, he made her wait a moment longer, testing her. She remained perfectly still. Her breathing was even, and none of the muscles in her body showed signs of tension.

  Sawyer had to wonder at the abilities of her formal master. He must have been a genius to teach her to do that so quickly.

  He decided not to dwell on thoughts of her previous master. Sawyer already thought about him way too much. It wasn’t good for his ego to compare himself. What mattered was that she was in his bed right now.

  In this moment, he was her master. She obeyed him, giving him her submissiveness, the greatest gift she had to give. At least, it was in his view. In her view, it was the only thing she had to give.

  He cracked the belt across her ass. The sound of leather beating flesh was a nasty one, and it made his eyes blink. Whereas, she hardly moved. Her body didn’t clench together, and her breathing didn’t increase. He doubted that her heart rate sped up. It was too soon in her punishment for that, not that she had done something wrong. Or better said, she hadn’t done anything new wrong.

  They were still fighting over the same thing as always. No matter what he said or did, she refused to tell him her real name or where she came from.

  That bothered him so much, because as the mayor of their small town and the owner of the truck stop, he needed her to be on the books, paying taxes and being a real part of the community. He could never take her out as his girlfriend. Instead, they hid out in his apartment over the truck stop, fucking and doing scenes. He couldn
’t take her with him to church either. He especially missed her when he had to attend a funeral.

  Sawyer wanted a well-trained slave, but he also wanted a wife, especially for representative reasons.

  As mayor, he needed a wife. Someone who would be respectful and shake hands and listen to concerns. Could she do something like that?

  Of course, she could. She did it all the time at the truck stop when she talked to the truckers and farmers. They loved her. He teased her that they only liked her because she gave them larger slices of pie than he did. When she cut the pies, he lost out on at least one piece per pie. That added up over time.

  He teased her that he would dock her pay, but he wasn’t paying her because he couldn’t. It was impossible to pay someone who didn’t have a last name or a bank account.

  Sawyer cracked the belt across her sit spot, making her gasp and buck her hips forward. So soon? She was usually tougher than that.

  “Get back into position,” he ordered although she was already returning to where he wanted her to be.

  In the moonlight, he could see an angry red slash across both cheeks. With her legs opened wide, he figured that he might have gotten her sensitive inner lips as well. It didn’t matter. He could kiss them and make it better later.

  He gave her another lash, making certain that it landed higher. Again he got no reaction out of her.

  He quickly gave her three more that made her shift slightly forward. Immediately, he called her out on it, scolding her to get back into position, which she did without complaint.

  “Tell me your name.”

  “Morgan,” she answered him.

  “Your real name.”

  “That is my real name, Master,” she replied.

  “Real names come with last names.” He pointed out as he had thousands of times before. He should call the police to arrest her, but she smiled at them and gave them nice big slices of pie. They’d never arrest her.

  He landed another low blow across her sit spot. As if she had expected it, she didn’t react or move away. She was good at that, too good. Who taught her to do that?

  “Why did you leave your last master?” he asked her before he could stop himself.

  “He didn’t want me anymore,” she replied, sounding a bit off. She always sounded that way when she talked about him. She never mentioned him on her own. Sawyer was the one who wanted to talk about him.

  Sawyer’s worst fear was that she was merely tolerating him while she pined after her old master. Was this proof that she didn’t care about him? She had never said that she didn’t want him anymore. Instead, she said that he didn’t want her anymore. That was a big difference.

  “If he shows up here and asks you to return to him, would you?” Sawyer had never asked her that before because he feared that he wouldn’t like her answer.

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “No, never.” The question had surprised her.

  “Why not?” he dared to ask.

  She looked away from him. “He wasn’t good for me,” she replied.

  Sawyer wasn’t certain what to think or what to believe. He wanted to ask if he was good for her, but he didn’t want to open a can of worms. If she answered him in that cold way that she sometimes had, his heart might break.

  He saw himself as a tough guy, as someone smart people didn’t mess with, but he knew better. She alone had the power to hurt him.

  “Lift your ass up higher. You’re slacking off,” he told her. She hadn’t been, but she believed him and struggled to raise it up even higher.

  He dropped his belt to the floor and climbed onto the bed behind her. She was open so wide that the moonlight sufficed for him to see her opening. She was wet and ready for him. He loved that her body couldn’t lie to him or pretend to be indifferent.

  Sawyer thrust into her hard, making her gasp again.

  He grinned to himself, feeling that he was winning this match. Twice she had let him know that she wasn’t a cold-assed bitch.

  The fact that he could so easily slide in and out of her proved that she wasn’t.

  It felt so good inside of her that he longed to tell her that he loved her, but how could he?

  How could you love someone you didn’t know?

  Fifteen Years Earlier

  Chapter 2

  Damn, damn, damn. Martin got out of his limousine and straighten his sleeves and looked up at the building. Inside was the thing he feared the most in this world.

  He waited for his bodyguards to give their okay, and then he walked in. It was obvious to everyone that he wasn’t following them, but that they were shadowing him.

  He waited again for the elevator after one of his bodyguards had pushed the button. The elevator reflected his image. He still looked young and in control. He was glad to see that he looked disinterested, and that none of the nervousness he felt could be seen. His bronze hair was perfectly combed and laying just so. It was cut by the very best.

  His body was kept perfectly trimmed by three personal trainers, all experts in their respective fields. His suit was made of the finest of cloths and fit him to a tee. On his left hand, he wore his old college ring, Harvard of course.

  His face was cold and distant. His blue eyes showed no warmth. His finely cut jaw was clenched a bit too tightly, but only someone who knew him very well would know that. No one knew him very well. The one person who had at one time known him well had just passed away. That was why he was here.

  The doors opened, and he waited for an okay to enter the elevator. This whole protection thing was very annoying but unfortunately necessary. He had more than one enemy, but his real nemesis was waiting upstairs for him.

  He entered the elevator and thought about her. It had been a while since that last picture of her had landed on his desk.

  Martin had only glanced at it for a second when it had arrived. He always just glanced at them, and then the new picture was filed away by the others. The file remained closed until the next picture arrived. The thing was, he hadn’t worried about her yet. He figured he had time before he would have to deal with her.

  The doors opened again, and he exited a moment later. The glass doors to a law office were opened up, so he could just sail right through. This was his lawyer, a man he paid, so he wouldn’t have to deal with her. Now, all of that was falling apart like a card house, and he would have to look her in the eyes. He was scared shitless.

  “Mr. Swift.” A hand came forward for him to shake.

  He reached for it, shaking the graying man’s hand back, as he kept on walking towards the conference room. She was in there. How fitting. All the important decisions in his life had taken place in a conference room. Hell, late one evening, he had even made her in one.

  The doors opened up, and he scanned the room. It looked empty except for a woman sitting in a chair. She was looking down at the floor.

  Martin walked around the table and saw her on the floor with a doll on a blanket. She was changing it into another dress.

  “Hello, Morgan.” He had found that name fitting. It was close to the German word for tomorrow. He always saw her as a problem that he would deal with tomorrow.

  “Hello,” she chirped back at him. She was small. She had his hair color, but her mother’s brown eyes. She wasn’t a looker, but then again she was just six.

  “I’m your guardian now. Stand up, child.” He couldn’t bring himself to introduce himself as her father.

  “What’s a guardian?” she asked as she started to brush her doll’s hair. She showed no signs of getting up.

  “I am the person who tells you what to do, and then you do it.” He had whispered, but she had understood his tone plainly. She sat still, holding her doll tightly in her arms.

  “I have some papers for you to sign, Mr. Swift. They are all ready for you to read over.” His lawyer was waiting at the door for him.

  “Come along, child.” He turned and didn’t look back to see if she was following. That had to be understood.
r />   He first realized that she wasn’t directly behind him when he reached the door. He turned back and looked at her. She was frowning, and she looked ready to burst into tears.

  “Morgan, now,” he called for her, letting her know that he wouldn’t repeat himself.

  She slowly walked over to him. She was watching his eyes narrow as she got closer. Was he going to spank her?

  Her mommy had sometimes when she was bad, or when she had done something that her mother considered bad. She had even recently used up all of her mother’s nail polish to paint the toilet several very pretty colors. That had been the last spanking she had gotten from her mother. Her mother was dead now, and she was all alone.

  They had said that she would live with her father now. Who was that?

  ~

  Martin signed all the necessary papers after carefully reading them through. He was basically admitting that he was the father, and that he was taking responsibility for her. He changed her last name to his.

  Stephanie hadn’t put any pressure on him to do anything. He had sent her a generous amount each month, but with the understanding that he didn’t want to be bothered with his child.

  That had worked out so well until now.

  Morgan had sat down on the floor next to his chair to play with her doll again as he read the many papers on the table. When she hummed to her doll to comfort her, he scolded her to stop.

  The woman who was watching over her protested that she was being very good, but Martin wanted to listen to the woman even less than he wanted to hear Morgan humming.

  The woman would end up being surprised by how short-lived her employment would be. Martin’s secretary had already found a boarding school for Morgan. He would be dropping her off personally on Sunday evening. He just had to get through the next couple of days.

  Martin stood, and Morgan did right away too. He smiled down at her. She was capable of learning, always a good trait in a child.

  He shook hands with his lawyer before they left the building. He’d entered the building alone, but he was leaving it with her. She held onto her nanny’s hand and followed him.