Chapter Text
She perched precariously on the little swing, stockinged feet against the plastic bottom, toes just peeking out of the leg holes. Her knees bent enough to touch the curved front of it, though her ass overshot the back by several inches, leaving her thighs to take the weight. By see-sawing her body back and forth, she could get enough momentum to actually swing! Laughing, she swung back and forth, trying to match the speed of the two Littles on either side of her who had snagged the normal size swings first. She had just about done it when her foot slid on the slick plastic and slipped through the leg hole of the swing. In the ensuing struggle not to fall backwards, the other foot slipped through. By the time she had her momentum under control well enough to stop swinging, both her legs had worked their way through the tiny leg holes up to the knee. Panting, she hung on the chains, supporting her weight with her arms, not wanting any more of her legs to slip through.
The littles on either side of her had immediately stopped and hopped out of their swings, pulling the chains so either side as she had swung wildly around so she wouldn't hit herself. Now that she had slowed down, they let the swings drop and came to either side of her.
"Are you okay?"
"I think so, I just need to get my legs out of here. My feet slipped, and my legs popped through."
"Hold on, we'll help you."
They tried to disengage her from the swing, but her calves pinched painfully against the rigid plastic of the leg holes.
"Ow, shit! You guys, I think I'm stuck."
"Does it hurt?"
"No, only when I try to pull my leg out. It pinches the shit out of my calf."
"I don't know, maybe we can lube you up with something?"
"No shortage of lube at this party," the other one quipped.
"Yeah, yeah, very funny. Just go grab something before -"
"Oh goodness, what have we here?"
"Shit."
Her daddy strolled unhurriedly up to the swing set, trailing what seemed like half the party behind him.
"Did my little girl get herself in trouble?"
"No, Daddy. I'm just a little stuck, that's all. I'll be out of here in a second."
"Somehow I doubt that, pumpkin. Be right back." He spun on his heel and strode purposefully back into the house, emerging a minute later with a small towel from their toy bag and a bottle of water.
"Let me see," he ordered, gesturing at where her legs disappeared into the tiny swing. She pulled her weight back up on her arms, lifting herself off the seat. It gave him enough room to tuck the towel between her knees and the seat, balling up a chunk of the middle of the towel and wedging it between her knees. He stuffed the excess into the tiny space around each calf, giving her a little bit of padding between her skin and the leg holes.
"You can settle back down," he said, and she dropped her weight gratefully back down onto the swing. He knelt in front of her, pulling and tugging at the towel until some protruded through the leg holes of the swing, cushioning her calves where they had been pinching.
"This is so embarrassing," she said quietly, just for him to hear over the giggles of the folks watching. "I can't believe I got stuck like this, I feel like such an idiot."
"Can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?" he laughed, tickling her nose with one of her pigtails.
"So should I try to pull my legs out one at a time, or...?"
"No, I think you're going to sit here for a few minutes and think about what you did and how silly you look," he said, grinning. "It doesn't pinch anymore, does it?"
"No, Daddy."
"Good! So you can sit here just like this in the swing till I get back. Are you comfy, princess?"
"Not particularly, Daddy."
"But it's not pinching or hurting, right? You're just pouty because I'm making you sit here."
She sighed. "Yes, daddy."
"Good girl," he said. "Now put your hands up real high for me, and grab the chain."
She complied, and he snapped two small carabiners through the rings on the leather cuffs she always wore to parties, clipping her arms above her head to the chain. He bent, and she felt her ankles pulled together and heard another snap.
She huffed in frustration as he pulled a large black zip tie from his pocket and zip-tied the water bottle to the swingset chain a little lower than her face. Dropping a bendy straw into it, he pointed at the bottle.
"It's hot out here, and you've been getting some exercise. I want my little girl to be hydrated, so drink up. I'm not going to let you off the swing until the bottle is empty."
She pouted in earnest now. "But Daddy -"
"Don't 'but Daddy' me, sweetheart. You got yourself into this mess, and I'll get you out - when I'm good and ready. In the meantime, you work on that bottle of water like a good girl."
He patted her on the head, tugged gently at one of her pigtails, and walked back into the house.
"I'll check on you in a little bit," he called over his shoulder. A few looks of amusement were tossed her way and she definitely heard some giggling from the folks smoking on the back porch.
Well, he was right about it being hot out, and swinging had been sweaty work. She had once gotten dizzy during a scene when it was hot, and since then, he'd been very careful about making sure she was properly hydrated. She sipped delicately at the bottle, pouting. It really was a ridiculous position, she thought, her knees butted against the front of the swing, calves hanging out through too-small holes, stockinged toes barely brushing the tips of the grass. Having her arms stretched so far above her head felt just as vulnerable as having them cuffed to a saint Andrew's cross, but worse somehow because it was a child's swing set. Worst of all, her bottom hung way out over the back of the swing, far more than it had in her initial crouched position, and she was sure she was getting a nice big red mark across the middle of her thighs where the back of the swing dug into her. Now that the bony parts of her knees weren't rubbing against each other or the inside of the swing, she wasn't in pain, but she still felt like an absolute idiot. She wondered between sips of water how long he would keep her here, letting her stew and fuss. Well, the faster she drank the water, the faster he might let her free of the impromptu torture device.
"Hi, pumpkin!" His voice rang across the yard. She looked up from where she had been bent over trying to see if her stockings had grass stains, and gasped. If she had thought half the party followed him out earlier, this time it was most of the remaining guests! He walked up to the swing, closely followed by Miguel, the host of the party.
"See? I told you she got stuck."
"I'm so glad you didn't move her, this is fucking hilarious. I was knee-deep in a scene and couldn't break free right away, but I wouldn't have wanted to miss this!"
"Daddy, have you come to get me down?" she asked hopefully. "I've been thinking about it, and I think if you hold the seat steady, I can wiggle one leg out at a time."
He shook his head.
"But Daddy, we were going to play!"
"Who says we're not going to play?" he replied, smiling at her look of consternation. "Hey Miguel, can I beat my girl while she's stuck in your swingset?"
"You can do whatever the hell you want to your girl in my swingset, my kids are grown and this is the most action it's seen in years. Knock yourself out."
"Thanks, man."
"You know I got you. Mind if I watch?"
"Not at all. In fact -" he raised his voice, turning to address the gathering group - "this is one of those scenes that could really use a good peanut gallery. So gather round, y'all."
"Daddy, please -"
"What's the matter, baby girl? Daddy knows you're an exhibitionist, don't play shy." He walked around behind her, unsnapping the carabiners from her wrists. "Shake out your hands."
She did as she was told. Although her circulation wasn't that bad, he was always careful not to leave her hands bound in any one position for too long. He gave them a quick squeeze, then circled her slowly, running his hands over her. He tugged her pigtails playfully, straightened her little white crop top where it had ridden up over her bra, adjusted her sinfully short plaid skirt so the pleats weren't scrunched, and pulled her stockings up where they had begun to sag. When everything was to his satisfaction, he stepped back. There was a pause; she had almost turned around to see what he was up to when suddenly he gripped her ass hard with both hands where it stuck out over the back of the small seat, causing her to startle and causing the gathering crowd to cheer and laugh. She recognized a couple of Littles and stuck her tongue out at them, earning herself more giggles. If there was one thing Littles liked, it was watching other Littles get punished in-role! All of the fun, none of the swats.
He stopped groping her long enough to reattach her wrist cuffs to the swing chain, this time at about shoulder height. Then he pulled a few carabiners from the toy bag and began hanging up various paddles, crops and canes from the other swings' chains. In a matter of minutes, he had most of their impact play toys on display.
He bent down and nuzzled her ear.
"How are your legs doing, sweetheart?" he murmured.
"They're okay, Daddy. Am I going to be in the swing for a long time?"
"If you can take it," he replied. "I'm going to switch your position a few times, though, so your knees don't get tired out. Do you think you can do some impact play in this position, or do I need to move you before we start? You've been sitting like this for a little while."
"I can do it, Daddy."
"Good girl. You let me know if you need to switch positions, or if I need to let you out of the swing entirely, okay? It's fun to play with you out here, but I'm fine taking you inside if your legs lose circulation or your knees start to hurt."
"I promise I'll tell you, Daddy."
"That's my good girl," he praised, pulling back from her ear and giving her a kiss on the forehead.
"So," he addressed the onlookers, "Which paddle should I start with?"
By popular vote, he began with their small heart-shaped leather paddle, which had fur on one side. He alternated strikes with the fuzzy side and with the stingy leather until her cheeks started to pink up. Another crowdsourced vote, and he switched to a thick, springy silicone paddle. It bit deep and stung hard against her exposed buns and upper thighs, making her gasp and jump. The folks watching giggled at her fruitless wriggling in the swing, and when he asked if she should get more strikes for not holding still, the affirmative response was raucous and immediate.
It got even louder when he spun her around, pointing her reddened butt towards them while he tugged the seat of her panties into a thick band running straight up between her cheeks. They were her favorite, a thin but surprisingly strong white Lycra which totally covered her buns, yet was tight enough to show everything off regardless. In her current awkward position, the elastic material was already stretched almost to the breaking point. She didn't fight much, as they definitely had to have been so tight they were bordering on translucency, and therefore not hiding anything anyway.
"Gotta keep your panties out of the way, sweetheart," he joked. "Wouldn't want to wear a hole through them!"
By the time he had her well warmed up with the smaller paddles and one of the crops, the pack of onlookers was warmed up as well, constantly peppering the two of them with playful comments. They had long since established that both of them were fond of playing at parties due to their shared exhibitionistic streak, his powered by a flair for the dramatic and a love for the spotlight, hers powered by an intense erotic response to exposure and humiliation. Their daddy/girl dynamic was just the right mix, allowing her to feel the shame and debasement she craved, but in a way that she felt supported and loved at the same time. The idea of others watching and commenting made her squirm, but also made her undeniably wet. The fact that she was forced to face the peanut gallery that had collected on the back porch to watch their scene while her Daddy tanned her hide was equal parts hot and humiliating.
He was swinging in big underhanded arcs, connecting loudly and firmly with her cheeks. Even though he hadn't broken out any of the harder toys yet, she already knew that she would be sitting gingerly for a while. As if he had read her mind, he gave her one last hearty smack with the thuddy leather paddle and dropped it back in the toy bag.
He ran the pads of his fingers up the crotch of her panties, stepping back and touching the thick slickness to his thumb where she and all the onlookers could see. "I don't think this hole needs any more lube," he said jokingly. "Seems a crime to leave it empty, though." He spun her around and tugged her panties aside, spreading her puffy nether lips to give the audience a front-row view of her soaked hole, framed by her well-reddened ass and thighs.
She felt the slim head of a toy probe her entrance. She wriggled backward, trying to impale herself, but he chuckled and ran it up and down her lips.
"What do we say when we want something?" He asked teasingly.
She tossed her head and tried to kick, making the chains of the swing ring out.
"Come on, princess. Show everybody what good manners you have."
"Please stick the toy in my kitty, Daddy."
"Good girl," he praised, sliding the toy home in one quick motion. She moaned loudly, not expecting to be filled so quickly.
He laughed and readjusted the crotch of her panties over the toy, sliding it a little deeper in her. She was covered, but she was sure the gusset of her panties was soaked to the point of wet-tee-shirt-contest translucency.
"So who wants to watch these cheeks really dance?" he asked, skating his hands over her reddened buns. A cheer went up, with several suggestions as to which implement he should use first.
He selected a long lucite paddle, easily big enough to cover both cheeks.