A cold bed. An empty room. The enveloping darkness…
Not that you didn’t deserve it; deep down you knew that. Acting up in such a manner had never been taken well before, it’s no surprise it hadn’t gotten you anywhere this time: alone.
The loneliness – that’s really what it came down to, and it did feel so terribly lonely, not like the last time. There was no pain for a companion here, you’d not been punished at all; not sure why you’d been spared, but you knew you’d crossed the line this time, maybe that had made things different? Not knowing was almost worse.
At least a punishment would have been something, you thought! At least you’d know you were worth punishing. There’d be something to cry about, you’d have an outlet for this awful feeling; there’d be a direct consequence to your actions which showed a clear path forward, because you knew a good girl is one that takes her punishment and tries to learn, so she can move forward. You’d already been taught that.
*If only I’d have been punished this time, hurt, if I could cry real tears… if only. Daddy might have even come to comfort me, if I’d been brave and took it well?*
But a physical punishment had never come. This horrible silence. Overt, almost overpowering, as if the whole room was dripping with it. This was turning into its own punishment. To lay here like this, the deafening emptiness. If it weren’t for such focused attention, it may well be maddening, but you knew better than to make a sound at this point. The cost of suffering such an intolerable void pales in comparison to what would happen should a sound be heard by *Daddy*.
*This damned bed wont warm up!*
*Y*ou flailed a weak and sombre arm out from the duvet to knock the edge of the covers down in an effort to keep the heat in.
*…footsteps.*
Your arm retreats below the covers again, almost instinctively; faster than you even thought possible.
***…the footsteps.***
Don’t make a noise, those were the instructions. Don’t. Make. A. Noise.
Shutting your eyes didn’t stop their approach. Laying still seemed impossible. You were trying to be still, really trying, trying so hard you couldn’t even tell if it was working or not; the depth of your panic was making a clear judgement impossible. You slowed your breathing in an effort to lay still, to look relaxed, to appear asleep as instructed; but your heart only beat faster.
The footsteps had stopped. A fearful, dry swallow. Motionless. Against all instinct, expressionless! Was that the warmth of the light from the other room falling across your face now? Did the door just open??
You wished you could tell. Did you ever wish for anything as much as you wished to know this here and now. Yet nothing came through, no sense functioning well enough to know for sure. The panicked hot flush, the beating of your heart, both worked to obscure your current predicament.
A click??? Was that the door latch shutting? If only you’d fallen asleep as told, ‘Go to bed and go to sleep, you’ve disappointed me!’ those were your orders, why couldn’t you have done it! At least you wouldn’t be here, like this, afraid to move… too terrified to breath almost. The words still felt as strong as they had when said, despite being said without anger or a raised voice, they rang out loud in the back of your mind regardless.
Blood rushing in your ears in a never-ending cycle, the only thing to have broken the silence was those dreadful footsteps, and they’d gone. That all encompassing silence was back, not that it had left; but it was still back! Yearning for a punishment wasn’t really going to help, the need to know you were still wanted despite being a **bad** girl wasn’t there – nothing was. Just the panic.
You could still remember the last time you’d crossed the line and upset your Daddy; how you’d been given a chance to fix it, and gone on to even act up then, as well!
That was something you could still feel it – if you were brave enough to move your hand in the darkness and feel the back of your leg, you were positive you’d feel the old mark of a cane stroke, even all these months later. Its not a feeling you’d ever forgot. After all this time, and you doubted if you ever could forget.
A hard lesson was learnt that day. Daddy did have a limit, the consequence for passing it was almost impossible to believe… even while it was happening.
For the briefest of moments, you almost considered that the better option. A moment of near insanity. That inexplicable pain, the duration it lasted, the memory left burned into you? Maybe you could go and offer yourself to be punished, help fix what you’d done make something happen, but, to defy the situation at hand? You dared not.
How long had it been since the door closed, if indeed it did? Five minutes, ten, an hour? You couldn’t really tell. Time had seemingly come to a halt… but, perhaps… *oh no.*
**The footsteps had never walked away!**
A cold sense of dread washed over you; a small rushed breath escaped your mouth, unable to stop it, your hands grabbed the bed sheet at your sides, fists clenched so hard you could feel your fingernails dig into your hands right through them. In that darkness, the only question left to your conscious state overrode all other thought: was Daddy on the other side of the door when he closed it, or was he in the room.
An urge to scream out suddenly, at the top of your lungs, rose up inside you – ‘HELP ME DADDY!’. For Daddy to save you, no matter where he was, the urge to scream so loud he’d hear you half way across the world if need be, it was right there, the tip of your tongue, and yearning to let itself loose in that blackened place.
Blind willingness to take whatever would result from such an action, no matter what it would be, so long as *he* would be there to do it, it almost overwhelmed you. But gritted teeth held it back… a clench jaw, and scrunched up eyes, a scared little girl straining with all her might to keep composed… it wasn’t enough.
The smallest of whimpers had escaped your lips as your eyes flung open to the dark around you.
There was nothing to see; your heart beat so deep inside you, it felt as if the whole universe around you pulsed as you stared into the abyss, the unending blackness shuddering in time with every thud. No amount of effort would help you to close your eyes now. You fought with yourself, reasoned, even begged – it wasn’t happening. It was too late. A lone tear rolled down your left cheek, as your eyes stuck, locked skyward, with unblinking fervour.
*Noise*.
*A whisper in the distance, perhaps? My… imagination? No – my name?*
The sudden touch of a fingertip. Felt, but not interpreted nor recognized; with no reaction given. Only your rapidly heaving chest making itself known to you.
But… the tear had stopped rolling where the finger now pressed, and a gentle sigh fell softly from above. Coarse warmth now caressed your cheek; a hand, maybe? Daddys hand?! Suddenly the bed sank to one side, the hand pressed in closer; fingers and palm coming together ever so slightly in gentle motion.
A familiar smell gave momentary relaxation and your throbbing chest subsided with the passing moments; peering upward, a familiar shape, even without recognizing the face, you felt who the figure was… your eyes finally closed as more tears came… it didn’t matter, not now. Eyes fully shut, you leaned heavily sideways into the hand you had felt before.
“You’ve been through a lot tonight, Little girl” a hushed voice echoed, “and you’ve been very brave! Its over now, you did it, you don’t need to be brave, Daddys here…”
“I’m really proud of you. That’s a good girl”.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/kswan0/the_midnight_visit_mf_inc_daddylittle