"You're home late again," Dad said, his voice gruff, as I stumbled through the front door. The chilly night air clung to my skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the bar I'd just left. My head swam with the scent of spilled beer and cigarette smoke, and my heels clicked against the hardwood floor with a rhythm that seemed too loud for the quiet house.

"I was just out with friends," I slurred, trying to sound more sober than I felt. I didn't dare look him in the eye. I knew he wouldn't buy it.

Dad's expression tightened as he took in my disheveled appearance. "You're drunk. Again."

"I'm not a kid anymore, Dad," I protested, trying to stand my ground, but the floor felt wobbly beneath me. "I can handle myself."

He stepped closer, towering over me. "You can handle yourself? Look at you, barely able to stand. This isn't the life I wanted for you, acting like a... a common whore."

The word stung, but it was nothing new. His disapproval of my choices had become a constant background noise in our relationship. But tonight, his anger was palpable, thick in the air around us. He grabbed my arm, his grip firm but not painful, and led me into the living room. The soft glow from the lamp cast shadows on his stern face.

"You're going to learn some respect, young lady," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I've had enough of this behavior."

With surprising speed, Dad sat down on the couch, pulling me over his knee. I squealed in protest, but he was too strong. He hiked up my short skirt, exposing my lacy thong. My heart pounded in my chest as I realized what was about to happen.

"Daddy, no!" I wailed, but it was too late. His hand came down hard on my bare ass, the smack echoing through the room. The pain was sharp and stunning. I kicked my legs, trying to break free, but he held me firmly in place.

"You're going to get the spanking you've earned," he said, his voice calm and resolute. "Maybe this will knock some sense into you."

I could feel the heat of his palm on my skin through the flimsy fabric. He was right. I was acting like a slut, throwing myself at any man who'd glance my way, coming home smelling of cigs and cheap perfume. But fear and embarrassment didn't change the fact that my pussy was already wet at the thought of what was to come.

Another smack landed, this one on the bare flesh of my left cheek, sending a jolt through my body. "Daddy, please!" I begged, my voice high and desperate.

"You brought this on yourself," he said, his voice cold, as he continued to rain down blows. Each one sent a shock wave of pain and pleasure through my lower body. I squirmed and struggled, my breasts bouncing against his leg. The scent of his cologne filled my nose, mixing with the sweet, scent of my own arousal.

My thong was now a twisted mess, exposing my drenched pussy to the cool air. Dad didn't miss a beat, his hand landing in the same spot over and over, turning my ass a dark shade of pink. I bit my lip to stifle a moan that was half pain, half desire. This was wrong. So wrong. But my body betrayed me, my clit throbbing with every smack.

"Daddy, I'm sorry," I whimpered, tears streaming down my face. "I'll be good, I promise."

He paused, his hand hovering over my burning skin. "Will you really?"

I nodded, my voice trembling. "Yes, Daddy. I'll be your good girl."

He leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear. "Prove it," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

With trembling hands, I slid off his lap and kneeled before him. I reached down and pulled at the waistband of his pants. His cock sprang free, hard and heavy in my grip. I stared at it for a moment, feeling a mix of fear and excitement. This was my daddy. This was wrong, but the way my body responded to him was undeniable.

"Show me how much you mean it," he said, stroking my hair. His cock twitched as I tentatively touched my tongue to the tip. The salty taste of him filled my mouth and I gagged, but his grip on the back of my head was unyielding. I took a deep breath and took him in, my eyes watering as he hit the back of my throat.

I could feel his hand in my hair tighten as I began to suck, my cheeks hollowing with each bob of my head. His cock was thick and hot, and I was surprised at how natural it felt to have him in my mouth. He groaned, his eyes half-closed with pleasure.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice a dark caress that sent a shiver down my spine. "Suck it like a good girl."

The words sent a thrill through me, and I found myself eagerly obeying, bobbing my head faster, taking him deeper into my mouth. His cock was thick and veiny, and the feel of him in my mouth was foreign yet intoxicating. His hand in my hair guided my movements, and I moaned around him, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through his shaft.

As I sucked him off, my own pussy was a pool of need. I could feel my juices dripping down my thighs, my clit pulsing with every beat of my heart. It was wrong, so wrong, but the power dynamics of the moment had my body responding in a way I couldn't control.

"Daddy," I whispered, my voice muffled by his cock, "my pussy is so wet and achy."

He looked down at me with a mix of hunger and satisfaction. "Good," he said, his hand leaving my hair to trace the line of my jaw. "You're going to need it."

With that, Dad stood up, pulling his pants down to his ankles. His cock stood tall and proud, the tip glistening with pre-cum from my eager mouth. He bent me over the couch, the arm pressed firmly against my stomach. 

Then I felt him position himself behind me, and the heat of his body as he bent over me. He gripped my hips, and with one swift motion, he yanked my thong aside, exposing my tight, wet pussy to him completely.