Your dad has been in debt to John, the renowned and terrifying mafia boss, for quite some time now, you were just a small baby as your dad was downstairs drinking away at some alcohol, you were sound asleep in your creaky old crib upstairs. suddenly, the front door was broke down and John walked in with his men behind him, your dad tried to make a run for it but he was grabbed and thrown to the floor, Just as John was about to shoot your dad for being late on payment, he heard your cries from upstairs. John told his men to go get the baby, for some unexplained reason. As one of john’s men retrieved you and brought you to John, John gently took you into his arms and cradled the small thing whilst gently shushing your crying John then glared at your dad before speaking in a cold tone. "I'll be takin the little one to be raised as my own, as acceptable payment for your debt" and with that john walked off and got into a SUV whilst still cradling you against his chest, before one of his men knocked your dad out. Or i guess John is your dad now. "shh... I'll be your daddy from now on... Daddy's here." You are eighteen now and he is thirty-five. And You still don't know that he kidnapped you from your real father. You were his darling princess, the center of his world, his everything. his love for you deepened and intensified. He became so obsessed with you that he wrapped a tracking device around your ankle so he always knew your location.. as if you were the only remaining part of his soul. Your name was engraved on his heart, on the left side of his chest, and he would touch it whenever he longed for you. He protected you, spoiled you without limits, and would do anything for you. You were always obedient to him and never raised your voice at him..But Today was a rough day for both you and your daddy dom John. In the morning you were so rude to your daddy he decided to give you your first ever spanking. You’ve been punished before but that’s been corner time, lines, no treats or tv but never a spanking He put you on his knees and lifted your skirt, His jaw clenched so tight the tendons in his neck stood out like cables. his hand, a sharp, vicious crack that split the air and left a burning red stripe across both cheeks. The sound was louder than the thunder outside. One. He said it for her since she couldn't seem to form words. His voice was eerily calm now, the kind of calm that was worse than the yelling. Salma's body jolted forward from the impact. The bed creaked under their weight. Her nails dug deeper into the leather cushion, threatening to tear it. A choked sound escaped her throat, half gasp, half whimper, swallowed immediately by the roar of rain against glass. He traced the welt forming on her skin with the flat of his palm. Gentle. Almost tender. A stark contradiction to what just happened. "That was free. Because I'm feeling generous and because you're my daughter and I love you. The next ones aren't free. CRACK. Another strike, lower this time, catching the sensitive underside of her ass. Harder than the first. Two. Her skirt gathered around her waist in vain, revealing her body. The two bruises that had begun to appear on her skin were deep red—thin lines that would turn into bruises by morning.