Summary: John always does his best for his Daddy.
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Word Count: 1244
Rating/Contents: NC-17, crossdressing, spanking, Daddy/girl roleplay, delicious dirtybadwrong
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: So I had one line of this for like a thousand years, and then I found the rest of it.
The skirt isn't as bad as it could be; it's short enough to be interesting but long enough to be demure. There's a spaghetti-strap thing that goes with it, but on a hunch, he takes Caldwell's shirt off the hanger and puts it on. It looks good; it's just big enough that it really does look like he's wearing Daddy's clothes.
He keeps his makeup light and leaves his high heels in the bathroom; there's a time and place to look like a cheap slut, but this isn't really it. John takes a long look at himself in the mirror. His heart is racing and his palms feel sweaty, but he likes what he sees.
He takes a second before opening the bathroom door to wonder just what the fuck he thinks he's doing. There's this nagging voice in his head that says he should just go, but it's getting easier not to listen to it. That's the scariest part, that he doesn't want to fight it, that he'll do exactly everything that's asked of him and that Caldwell knows.
He opens the door.
Caldwell is on the bed, sitting up against the headboard, still in his undershirt and slacks. He's reading something, probably one of those Tom Clancy knock-offs that he finds hilarious. He smiles in that particular way of his, part dirty and part conspiratorial, the one that makes John's stomach drop a little. "Come to bed, sweetheart," he says, putting his book aside on the night stand.
Caldwell spreads his legs a little, and John climbs up onto the bed between them. "Give me a kiss, baby," he says, reaching out to rake his fingers gently through John's hair; it's so worth not wearing a wig just for that gesture.
"Yes, Daddy," John says, leaning carefully over him to peck him on the lips; when he goes to move away, Caldwell grabs him hard around his bicep, keeping him in place so that he can kiss him harder, his tongue invading John's mouth. Caldwell lets him go, and John sits back, waiting for further instructions.
Caldwell looks him up and down; he seems satisfied with what he sees. "Now, what does my baby girl want tonight?"
John is thrown by the question; he's used to not getting a choice in these things, just doing whatever he's told to do. "I want-" he starts, but he doesn't know how that sentence ends; he's going about this all wrong. "May I suck you, Daddy?"
"And why should I let you do that?" he coaches.
This part John knows the answer to. "I'm a good cocksucker," he says, and he only stutters a little, "and I want to make my Daddy happy."
Caldwell tussles his hair again. "My girl is the best little cocksucker," he praises, and John goes red. "Come here and do it, then."
John gets himself into position; he unzips Caldwell's pants, taking out his cock. It's already hard and ready for him, and John drags his tongue up the underside, one long lick from base to tip. Before Caldwell can caution him not to screw around about it, John takes a breath and lowers his mouth onto Caldwell's dick, pushing it in until he can't take any more. He leans up a little and tries to get more in, going as deep as he can and a little farther, until he has to stop and pull back. He starts moving his head, bobbing up and down.
"Look at me," Caldwell says sharply, and it's hard to keep his concentration and still look up, but John manages. "That's right, honey. Suck Daddy's cock."
It's everything John can do not to reach up under his skirt and stroke himself. His panties are too tight around his aching erection, and this is just too good. His Daddy's cock feels good and heavy and right in his mouth; he wishes he could just stay here and do this for hours and hours, until his jaw ached and his throat was raw.
He knows Caldwell's close when he grabs onto the back of John's head, keeping him in place. John tries to breathe through his nose and keep sucking; Caldwell lets out a low groan, and John gets rewarded for his efforts with a mouth full of come. He swallows it all down, trying to get every drop; Daddy won't like it if he's messy about it.
Caldwell finally pulls him away, his cock sliding out of John's mouth and smearing what remains of his lipstick. John tucks him back into his pants, zipping him up carefully. That done, Caldwell pulls him forward, wrapping him up in his arms and kissing him soundly. "That's my good girl," he says, stroking John's hair.
"Good enough to get a present?" John pushes.
Caldwell laughs, smacking him on the ass through his skirt. "Pull down your panties and turn around."
It's hard to wiggle out of them with his dick in the way, but soon enough they're down around his knees. He shuffles around so that he's facing away, and Caldwell takes the opportunity to flip his skirt up, running his hand over John's ass. "Hands and knees, baby."
John gets himself into position, trying not to seem too anxious to get off. He jumps as Caldwell hits him again, harder this time. He does it a few more times, and John hangs his head and wiggles his ass a little, begging silently. Caldwell obliges, spanking him until his ass feels warm, every swat going straight through him and to his cock.
"Such a good girl," Caldwell says, finally wrapping his hand around John's cock, stroking it slowly, too slowly. "What do we say?"
John has to shut his eyes to get the words out. "Thank you, Daddy."
"Thank you for what?"
"Thank you for letting me suck your cock."
Caldwell hits him again before he can speak, a reminder. "Thank you for spanking me."
"Very good," Caldwell says, working his hand faster. John wants to come so badly that his whole body is tensed up, waiting for it. "You know what to say when you want something," Caldwell prompts, as if he can feel how desperate John is.
"Please, Daddy," John says, and the words come out like a sob. "Please let me come. I've been such a good girl, please, please-"
"Shh," Caldwell says, stroking his back, gentling him even as he's working John's dick fast and hard. "Come on, baby. Come for Daddy."
John gasps as he comes; the feeling hits him like a truck, and it's all he can do to keep from collapsing forward onto the bed. Caldwell keeps stroking him, taking him all the way through it, milking him for every last drop.
John's not even really there when Caldwell wraps his arms around him, pulling him back so he's pressed up against Caldwell's chest. "Such a good girl," he says, wiping away the tears that he didn't even know he was crying. "Daddy's sweet little girl."
John snuggled up against his Daddy and let the tears come.
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/333557.html. comments over there.