The Secret Life of Daddy's little girl

This is the mostly true tales of my secret life with my Daddy. We are both consenting, non-related adults and nothing he does to me is done without prior permissions and conversations. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I have enjoyed experiencing and writing these tales!

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I wriggled in excitement. Daddy was toying around with his toy.
"Safe word?"
"Too much." I responded.
The only response I got was the crop, slightly harder. He continued three more times up and down my body, each time slightly harder, each time following the initial pattern. He was warming me up, preparing me.
He dropped his pattern then, dragging the crop across part of my back before snapping it down with a crack. I winced. Each time Daddy brought the crop down on my back, I flinched and did my best to hold my body in place, to hold my whimpers inside. Daddy struck me harder and harder, with not only the main part of the crop but the handle as well. The handle hurt the worst. As he did this, Daddy started talking to me.
"Do you like that, little girl? Do you like getting beaten? Do you like being shown the attention you deserve?"