I know that many of you understand what a joyful experience a paddling can be. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it, but I know you understand. I recently heard someone say that any man who gets turned on by making a woman cry is sick and I nodded for a second, but then I changed my mind. He is not sick but I cannot explain why. The fact that sadism is not bad, that love blossoms here when it looks like hate...I know that you understand that.
Anyway: the paddling. It's been a quiet few months with us. We continue to work on our relationship and spend time together. We continue to spend significant time in bed, but the kink has been limited to some light choking during sex and the more psychological aspects of things. Last weekend, we were getting ready for bed when I think our hard physical kink came back full-force.
He picked the paddle up off of the shelf and told me to come over to Him. I quailed. It had been so long. I wasn't confident enough in my ability to take pain, so I crouched on the bed rather than remain on all fours and hold my head up high. I curled around a pillow and tucked my head under.
He started and I didn't cry, not until almost the very end. I was quiet, I was focused on breathing. He went easy on me, to be sure, but I was handling it quite well. I murmured, "Daddy" over and over again when things got intense, but it wasn't out of fear or an immediate need for him to stop. It became more like a mantra, like I was naming him and calling out for his strength. At one point, I reached my hand back so he could hold it as he hit me. He curled his body around me briefly, stroking my hand and running the fuzzy side of the paddle over my pink ass cheeks. Then he stood again, still holding my hand, and resumed the paddling.
Each blow was getting harder. I could tell it was almost the end when he paused. He crouched next to me and looked at my face. There were some tears there, but I hadn't fallen apart. "Maybe just six more," I thought, hoping that he would have mercy on me.
"Kitten, how many more? Pick a number between 1 and 10."
"Six," I said immediately.
He gasped and lifted my face by my chin. "You're amazing. How did you know that I was thinking six?"
I smiled. "The number was in my head before you asked me to pick." I was full of such joy at that moment, I was practically giddy. I wanted those last six paddles so badly that I could hardly wait for them. This was the most perfect moment. We were both smiling, there was so much synchronicity. The whole universe was spinning just for us, around us, at that moment.
I know you understand that moment, that feeling. It is the most wonderful thing in the world, it is the reason that we all got into S&M to begin with. It is the epitome of all the good that submission brings. It is the peak. No orgasm, no amount of pain, no money or love or anything could top that feeling.
And the part of this feeling? It can happen over and over again. The possibilities are limitless.
Showing posts with label Daddy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Daddy. Show all posts
Awoken
I got into my pajamas and brushed my teeth. The lights were already dimmed in my apartment and I was getting ready for bed. I brushed my hair and put moisturizer on my face. I settled under the covers with the air conditioner blowing toward the bed so I could fall asleep in cool comfort. I waited for Him to call to put me to bed.
And I waited.
And I waited.
Over the next two hours, I tossed and turned in bed. I got up and opened the windows, got back into bed, got up to close the windows, got back into bed. I went out to the couch to see if I could sleep there before slinking back into the bedroom. I checked my phone obsessively.
I started thinking about those people who have blood clots lurking in their bodies and how those blood clots move to their brains and they drop dead without warning. I started worrying about blood clots lurking in my body. I was fretting over all of the things that could kill me suddenly, immediately as I lay in bed. I was spinning out of control and why, oh why wouldn't He call?
Finally, at 1:30, He called. He had fallen asleep early and had accidentally missed my bedtime.
I was so upset by the time he called that I had a panic attack. That hasn't happened in a very long time and it was a frightening development. There was a time, more than seven years ago, when I had panic attacks every day. I was completely crippled by them. My life narrowed to the time between these attacks, minus the time anticipating an attack, minus the time to recover from an attack. I remember that year as one of constant, crushing anxiety. Almost all of my recollections from that year involve the bedroom in my campus apartment: me pacing the small space between the computer desk and the bed and the door, phone clasped to my ear, desperately pleading for someone to help me deal with the unbelievable pain.
In any case, this was just one panic attack. One. It did not recur in the following days and I feel just as strong as ever. The amazing thing about the experience was the way that He helped me through it. In the old days, I was so frustrated by my panic attacks because no one seemed to know how to help, especially not my boyfriend at the time. I was desperate for someone to just comfort me, or reassure me or something I couldn't then describe.
Who knew that being owned would give me the perfect tools to battle the devastation of a panic attack? My owner reassured me on every front - that I am owned, that I am loved, that he is taking care of me, that everything will be okay - and I believed him with all of my heart. After the panic subsided and I was left feeling depleted and tired, he had me continue to breathe deep and cuddle with my favorite stuffed animal so that I could relax. He stayed on the phone with me until I was nearly asleep and then quietly told me that he loved me.
I mumbled groggily, "I love my owner," before I put the phone down and finally drifted off to sleep.
And I waited.
And I waited.
Over the next two hours, I tossed and turned in bed. I got up and opened the windows, got back into bed, got up to close the windows, got back into bed. I went out to the couch to see if I could sleep there before slinking back into the bedroom. I checked my phone obsessively.
I started thinking about those people who have blood clots lurking in their bodies and how those blood clots move to their brains and they drop dead without warning. I started worrying about blood clots lurking in my body. I was fretting over all of the things that could kill me suddenly, immediately as I lay in bed. I was spinning out of control and why, oh why wouldn't He call?
Finally, at 1:30, He called. He had fallen asleep early and had accidentally missed my bedtime.
I was so upset by the time he called that I had a panic attack. That hasn't happened in a very long time and it was a frightening development. There was a time, more than seven years ago, when I had panic attacks every day. I was completely crippled by them. My life narrowed to the time between these attacks, minus the time anticipating an attack, minus the time to recover from an attack. I remember that year as one of constant, crushing anxiety. Almost all of my recollections from that year involve the bedroom in my campus apartment: me pacing the small space between the computer desk and the bed and the door, phone clasped to my ear, desperately pleading for someone to help me deal with the unbelievable pain.
In any case, this was just one panic attack. One. It did not recur in the following days and I feel just as strong as ever. The amazing thing about the experience was the way that He helped me through it. In the old days, I was so frustrated by my panic attacks because no one seemed to know how to help, especially not my boyfriend at the time. I was desperate for someone to just comfort me, or reassure me or something I couldn't then describe.
Who knew that being owned would give me the perfect tools to battle the devastation of a panic attack? My owner reassured me on every front - that I am owned, that I am loved, that he is taking care of me, that everything will be okay - and I believed him with all of my heart. After the panic subsided and I was left feeling depleted and tired, he had me continue to breathe deep and cuddle with my favorite stuffed animal so that I could relax. He stayed on the phone with me until I was nearly asleep and then quietly told me that he loved me.
I mumbled groggily, "I love my owner," before I put the phone down and finally drifted off to sleep.
Bedtime
We were discussing the things that others do - comparing a bit, wondering what motivated others in their particular kink. It was an idle conversation. I mentioned quietly that some girls have bedtimes and that, come to think of it, I would like a bedtime since I struggle with regulating my own sleep schedule. He picked up on it right away, and a passing comment turned into so much more.
Later that night, he tucked me into bed with a whole new set of bedtime rules. He explained that I would have to be in bed by 11:30 pm on weekdays. I will have no set bedtime on weekends unless I have an early morning obligation, in which case He will determine my bedtime. On nights when we are apart, I can talk to him on the phone past 11:30 pm, but I must be in bed. He will try not to keep me up on the phone past that time and I should be making an effort from 11:30 pm on to get to sleep.
As he laid out the rules for me, I snuggled deeper under the blankets. I happily squirmed a bit, feeling loved and controlled. He would take care of me. He would make sure that I got enough sleep. He would look out for his little girl.
When he was finished, he picked up my book of short stories and started to read. His voice was calm and deep; he read slowly and with great inflection. The light in my bedroom was dim and I soon found my eyelids to be very heavy. I would just close my eyes and listen to the story, I thought. But before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep completely, lulled by his voice and the wonderful warm feeling of being owned.
I awoke briefly as he put the book down and tucked the blankets around me before shutting off the bedside lamp. I heard the door click shut before I slipped deep into sleep.
Later that night, he tucked me into bed with a whole new set of bedtime rules. He explained that I would have to be in bed by 11:30 pm on weekdays. I will have no set bedtime on weekends unless I have an early morning obligation, in which case He will determine my bedtime. On nights when we are apart, I can talk to him on the phone past 11:30 pm, but I must be in bed. He will try not to keep me up on the phone past that time and I should be making an effort from 11:30 pm on to get to sleep.
As he laid out the rules for me, I snuggled deeper under the blankets. I happily squirmed a bit, feeling loved and controlled. He would take care of me. He would make sure that I got enough sleep. He would look out for his little girl.
When he was finished, he picked up my book of short stories and started to read. His voice was calm and deep; he read slowly and with great inflection. The light in my bedroom was dim and I soon found my eyelids to be very heavy. I would just close my eyes and listen to the story, I thought. But before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep completely, lulled by his voice and the wonderful warm feeling of being owned.
I awoke briefly as he put the book down and tucked the blankets around me before shutting off the bedside lamp. I heard the door click shut before I slipped deep into sleep.
Nothing But The Rain
We stood in the driveway, looking at a scratch on my new car. It was about 11pm and the canopy of trees over the driveway kept out any light from the street. After a pause, He pushed me up against the back of his truck. He kissed me, pressing his body against mine. His hands roamed over my breasts and up under my shirt. He pulled my bra up over my breasts and pinched my nipples. He twisted and pinched harder, looking at my face for a reaction.
When I could not hold back any longer, I cried out quietly and closed my eyes. I didn't want to draw attention to what he was doing. As he held my nipples and continued to pinch, the sharp pain dulled to an ache and I was able to open my eyes. I looked at him calmly until he twisted harder.
Finally, he let me go and I moved to go inside the house, but he had something else in mind. He caught me by the neck and slammed me back against the truck. I stared at him, eyes wide with shock. He reached down and unzipped my jeans. I whined slightly and murmured "no" into his ear. I didn't want to be exposed.
He stood back and smiled that cruel smile that I know so well. "Pull down your pants." I paused. He snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Down. Now. Your panties too." I reluctantly pulled them down to my mid-thighs and looked around. There were no cars coming and none of the neighbors were out. But if a car came around the corner...
"All the way, Kitten," he growled and he pulled my pants all the way to my ankles. He pushed me back against the truck and felt between my legs. My pussy was wet already and he quickly brought me to orgasm with his fingers. I clung to him, burying my face in his shoulder in case anyone was watching, biting my lip to keep from crying out.
He pulled away and put his hand on the back of my neck. "Come with me," he cooed, "leave your pants down." I shuffled after him, quickly realizing that he was leading me to the end of the driveway, away from shelter of the trees. He led me right to the edge of the street and stepped away from me. I looked around at him, panicked. I barely noticed when the wind started whipping up and thunder started rolling in the background.
"Daddy, please...," I trailed off. He had walked back up the driveway. I could still hear his footsteps, but I couldn't see him anymore.
"Stay where you are, Kitten," he called out from behind me. I closed my eyes and waited for him, flinching at every car engine and door-slam that I heard.
Finally, I felt his hands on my ass. He leaned down and pulled my pants back up and fastened them as lightning started to flash all around us. He pulled me close to him and breathed in my hair. "Such a good girl," he sighed as he looked down at me. I smiled at him despite myself. The lightning lit up his face. God, His eyes looked so beautiful. How did he ever find me?
We were laughing and hugging as the thunder grew louder. The wind tossed my hair and blew all around us. Quietly, rain began to fall - lightly at first then building to a driving rain. We stood there, drenched and staring into each others' eyes, smiling like two silly kids in love.
"Let's get you inside, Kitten," he said as he hugged me tight one last time. He took my hand and we ran inside, our feet splashing in puddles all the way.
When I could not hold back any longer, I cried out quietly and closed my eyes. I didn't want to draw attention to what he was doing. As he held my nipples and continued to pinch, the sharp pain dulled to an ache and I was able to open my eyes. I looked at him calmly until he twisted harder.
Finally, he let me go and I moved to go inside the house, but he had something else in mind. He caught me by the neck and slammed me back against the truck. I stared at him, eyes wide with shock. He reached down and unzipped my jeans. I whined slightly and murmured "no" into his ear. I didn't want to be exposed.
He stood back and smiled that cruel smile that I know so well. "Pull down your pants." I paused. He snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Down. Now. Your panties too." I reluctantly pulled them down to my mid-thighs and looked around. There were no cars coming and none of the neighbors were out. But if a car came around the corner...
"All the way, Kitten," he growled and he pulled my pants all the way to my ankles. He pushed me back against the truck and felt between my legs. My pussy was wet already and he quickly brought me to orgasm with his fingers. I clung to him, burying my face in his shoulder in case anyone was watching, biting my lip to keep from crying out.
He pulled away and put his hand on the back of my neck. "Come with me," he cooed, "leave your pants down." I shuffled after him, quickly realizing that he was leading me to the end of the driveway, away from shelter of the trees. He led me right to the edge of the street and stepped away from me. I looked around at him, panicked. I barely noticed when the wind started whipping up and thunder started rolling in the background.
"Daddy, please...," I trailed off. He had walked back up the driveway. I could still hear his footsteps, but I couldn't see him anymore.
"Stay where you are, Kitten," he called out from behind me. I closed my eyes and waited for him, flinching at every car engine and door-slam that I heard.
Finally, I felt his hands on my ass. He leaned down and pulled my pants back up and fastened them as lightning started to flash all around us. He pulled me close to him and breathed in my hair. "Such a good girl," he sighed as he looked down at me. I smiled at him despite myself. The lightning lit up his face. God, His eyes looked so beautiful. How did he ever find me?
We were laughing and hugging as the thunder grew louder. The wind tossed my hair and blew all around us. Quietly, rain began to fall - lightly at first then building to a driving rain. We stood there, drenched and staring into each others' eyes, smiling like two silly kids in love.
"Let's get you inside, Kitten," he said as he hugged me tight one last time. He took my hand and we ran inside, our feet splashing in puddles all the way.
Daddy, Part II
He took me to the bathroom so that I could pee for him. He knows how very vulnerable, how small, that makes me feel. He loves that feeling of benign power and trust and honesty between us when I'm feeling small and calling him Daddy.
Our Daddy/little girl dynamic is so interesting to me. It was a longtime fantasy of mine, one that I was hesitant to share with him. But once I did, it fit perfectly into what we already were doing. He always made me feel like he was taking care of me, whether he was pampering me or cruelly hurting me. Now I find myself crying out for Daddy when he spanks me or when he beats me. Of course, there is the grownup, wanton lust part of our dynamic. But the surrender of power that leaves me little and shaking is wonderful too.
So anyway, he brought me out of the bathroom and laid me down on the bed next to him. He started touching me, touching himself. He was talking quietly to me, telling me that I was his good little girl for peeing for him while he stroked my hair. I rolled my hips slowly as he gently massaged my clit and dipped a finger into my pussy. I was biting the nail on the thumb of my right hand to keep from crying out. When he saw that, he moaned with longing. I knew what he was thinking before he even said it and I blushed with shame.
"My little girl," he cooed, "are you going to suck on that thumb?" I looked down. I wanted to, but it seemed too far over the line. We don't do true age-play - not the bath times or the coloring - and this was unexpected. But I did it anyway because, beyond all rational thought, it felt right.
He pulled me closer and looked down at me as I slowly started sucking the tip of my thumb. I turned over onto my stomach and bent my legs up at the knees as I sucked, feeling so little and very ashamed. His eyes raked over me and he stroked himself faster. He groaned and came all over my ass as I arched my back up to meet his come.
I laid my head on his shoulder and sighed. I was worried that he would judge me for doing that, but he just held me and kept me safe.
Our Daddy/little girl dynamic is so interesting to me. It was a longtime fantasy of mine, one that I was hesitant to share with him. But once I did, it fit perfectly into what we already were doing. He always made me feel like he was taking care of me, whether he was pampering me or cruelly hurting me. Now I find myself crying out for Daddy when he spanks me or when he beats me. Of course, there is the grownup, wanton lust part of our dynamic. But the surrender of power that leaves me little and shaking is wonderful too.
So anyway, he brought me out of the bathroom and laid me down on the bed next to him. He started touching me, touching himself. He was talking quietly to me, telling me that I was his good little girl for peeing for him while he stroked my hair. I rolled my hips slowly as he gently massaged my clit and dipped a finger into my pussy. I was biting the nail on the thumb of my right hand to keep from crying out. When he saw that, he moaned with longing. I knew what he was thinking before he even said it and I blushed with shame.
"My little girl," he cooed, "are you going to suck on that thumb?" I looked down. I wanted to, but it seemed too far over the line. We don't do true age-play - not the bath times or the coloring - and this was unexpected. But I did it anyway because, beyond all rational thought, it felt right.
He pulled me closer and looked down at me as I slowly started sucking the tip of my thumb. I turned over onto my stomach and bent my legs up at the knees as I sucked, feeling so little and very ashamed. His eyes raked over me and he stroked himself faster. He groaned and came all over my ass as I arched my back up to meet his come.
I laid my head on his shoulder and sighed. I was worried that he would judge me for doing that, but he just held me and kept me safe.
Daddy
I answered the door in my short pleated skirt, the one He ordered me to wear for him. He told me that he would take me out in that skirt with no underwear and that he would make sure that he fucked me somewhere public with the skirt pulled up around my waist. Today, however, the skirt would be staying inside.
I opened the door, wearing the skirt, high-heeled sandals and a camisole. "Hi Daddy," I breathed and leaned in to kiss him chastely on the cheek.
"Baby, hi," he said wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me tight, lifting my feet a few inches off of the ground. "How's my girl?"
"Ok, Daddy." I stepped away from him and saw his eyes rake over my body, down my bare legs and back up my body, lingering on my breasts peeking out of the top of my camisole.
"Have you been a good girl for Daddy?," he asked, stepping closer.
"I...I think so," I stammered nervously, twisting the hem of my skirt in my hand.
"Not sure, little one? Have you been naughty again?" He cupped my chin in his hand.
"I don't know...," I trailed, wondering if he could sense the wetness between my legs. If he found out...
"Have you been touching your little cunt without permission?"
Oh no, he had my number. "Maybe a little. I was going to tell you, promise!" I pouted prettily, hoping that he would forgive me immediately.
"You know the rules," he said, advancing on me as I backed away. "What are the rules, tell me."
I dropped my eyes. "I can't touch my pussy without permission from you." He held up a hand and raised his eyebrows. "My cunt, sorry. I can't touch my cunt without permission from you. And no one else can touch my cunt except for you."
"That's right," he stepped close, running his hand up my bare arm. I shivered. "And why is that?"
I paused and looked up at him. "Because it's your cunt, Daddy."
"Mmm...," he murmured as he ran his hand down my body, brushing my nipples with the tips of his fingers. His hand stopped at the hem of my skirt. "It is my cunt, all mine," he whispered as he lifted my skirt up and stepped back to admire the view. He stepped back closer and tucked the front hem of the skirt into the waistband. He slowly ran his hand over my exposed stomach, down to my pussy. He wiggled one finger between the folds. I gasped as he touched my clit, which was already wet and throbbing.
"Why is your cunt so wet, little girl?," he sighed. I bit my lip. "Face the wall, hands flat," he ordered. I turned and he lifted the back of my skirt up, tucking the hem into the waistband. He pulled my camisole up over my breasts and cupped them from behind, pulling at the nipples until I started to squirm.
"You know Daddy's rules, and you deliberately broke a rule so now I have to punish you." He slid his hands down and caressed the cheeks of my ass.
"Yes Daddy."
"I'm going to spank you and teach you a lesson. Thank Daddy for reminding you how to be a good little girl again."
"Thank you, Daddy," I whispered, feeling my face burn with shame.
"Louder," he demanded as smacked my right ass cheek.
"Thank you, Daddy," I said louder, closing my eyes in anticipation of a brutal punishment from him.
"Good girl, now you're going to take twenty." Before I could think to question the number, I heard him unbuckle his belt and slide it out of the loops.
"Daddy, please, not the belt...," I whined, looking pleadingly at him over my shoulder.
"Quiet. Twenty strokes," he said sternly. He put his hand on the back of my neck, tilting me forward so that my forehead was against the wall and my ass was pointed out toward him. He nudged my legs farther apart. I took a deep breath and, just as I let it out, he brought the belt down across the tops of my legs. I pulled away and shrieked, but he just tightened his grip on the back of my neck and forced me up against the wall.
"What do you say?," he breathed in my ear.
"Thank you, Daddy," I gasped, trying to catch my breath.
"Good girl," and he quickly hit me again across the cheeks of my ass. "Again."
"Thank you, Daddy."
He continued to beat me, until my knees were shaking and the wetness from my pussy was running down my thighs. My behind was hot and sore, even more so when he ran his hand over it. I was having trouble standing and I hung my head so he couldn't see my tears. He pressed his body up against me and started whispering in my ear.
"Do you think you've learned to leave Daddy's cunt alone?"
"Yes, sir," I whispered hesitantly. Was he going to make me take more from the belt? I felt him fidgeting with something behind me and then I felt his hard cock against the cheeks of my sore ass.
"Your punishment isn't over," he said slowly, quietly. He pulled me closer to him by my hips and rubbed his cock against the wetness between my legs. "You know what Daddy wants now."
I nodded, apprehensive. He had been training me to take his cock, slowly teaching me to fuck him the way that he likes. I made sure that my feet were spread apart and I tilted my ass back toward him even more.
"Be a good girl," he cooed as he threaded his fingers through my hair. He pulled back sharply on my head as he forced his cock into my pussy. He started thrusting slowly, pushing me harder against the wall. "That's a good girl, take Daddy's cock."
It hurt and it felt so good all at the same time and before I knew it, he was urging me to come for him. "C'mon baby, come for Daddy, come all over my cock...," he kept up insistently as I moved in time with his hips. He put his hands over mine on the wall and held them there as I started coming, bucking against him and moaning. He held me tight as I came for him.
When my moans subsided, he turned me to face him. He cupped my chin in his hands and smiled at me. He took me by the hand and led me up the stairs to my bedroom, sitting me down on the bed in front of him. "Lay back and open your legs for me," he said as he leaned over me, cock in hand. He slid into me as he wrapped my legs around his waist.
I held on to his shoulder as he fucked me, slowly at first and then harder. He murmured into my hair, his voice soft and full of lust. "Daddy loves you so much, baby. You're such a good girl for Daddy." I gripped him closer as he pounded me harder and came in shuddering gasps.
"My girl...," he sighed as he laid beside me on the bed and caressed my face. "You love pleasing me don't you?"
I smiled and nodded happily. "Yes, Daddy. I do. Very much."
"Good girl."
*************************************************************************************
The foregoing is a fantasy, about which I'm trying to work up the courage to tell Him. Wish me luck!
I opened the door, wearing the skirt, high-heeled sandals and a camisole. "Hi Daddy," I breathed and leaned in to kiss him chastely on the cheek.
"Baby, hi," he said wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me tight, lifting my feet a few inches off of the ground. "How's my girl?"
"Ok, Daddy." I stepped away from him and saw his eyes rake over my body, down my bare legs and back up my body, lingering on my breasts peeking out of the top of my camisole.
"Have you been a good girl for Daddy?," he asked, stepping closer.
"I...I think so," I stammered nervously, twisting the hem of my skirt in my hand.
"Not sure, little one? Have you been naughty again?" He cupped my chin in his hand.
"I don't know...," I trailed, wondering if he could sense the wetness between my legs. If he found out...
"Have you been touching your little cunt without permission?"
Oh no, he had my number. "Maybe a little. I was going to tell you, promise!" I pouted prettily, hoping that he would forgive me immediately.
"You know the rules," he said, advancing on me as I backed away. "What are the rules, tell me."
I dropped my eyes. "I can't touch my pussy without permission from you." He held up a hand and raised his eyebrows. "My cunt, sorry. I can't touch my cunt without permission from you. And no one else can touch my cunt except for you."
"That's right," he stepped close, running his hand up my bare arm. I shivered. "And why is that?"
I paused and looked up at him. "Because it's your cunt, Daddy."
"Mmm...," he murmured as he ran his hand down my body, brushing my nipples with the tips of his fingers. His hand stopped at the hem of my skirt. "It is my cunt, all mine," he whispered as he lifted my skirt up and stepped back to admire the view. He stepped back closer and tucked the front hem of the skirt into the waistband. He slowly ran his hand over my exposed stomach, down to my pussy. He wiggled one finger between the folds. I gasped as he touched my clit, which was already wet and throbbing.
"Why is your cunt so wet, little girl?," he sighed. I bit my lip. "Face the wall, hands flat," he ordered. I turned and he lifted the back of my skirt up, tucking the hem into the waistband. He pulled my camisole up over my breasts and cupped them from behind, pulling at the nipples until I started to squirm.
"You know Daddy's rules, and you deliberately broke a rule so now I have to punish you." He slid his hands down and caressed the cheeks of my ass.
"Yes Daddy."
"I'm going to spank you and teach you a lesson. Thank Daddy for reminding you how to be a good little girl again."
"Thank you, Daddy," I whispered, feeling my face burn with shame.
"Louder," he demanded as smacked my right ass cheek.
"Thank you, Daddy," I said louder, closing my eyes in anticipation of a brutal punishment from him.
"Good girl, now you're going to take twenty." Before I could think to question the number, I heard him unbuckle his belt and slide it out of the loops.
"Daddy, please, not the belt...," I whined, looking pleadingly at him over my shoulder.
"Quiet. Twenty strokes," he said sternly. He put his hand on the back of my neck, tilting me forward so that my forehead was against the wall and my ass was pointed out toward him. He nudged my legs farther apart. I took a deep breath and, just as I let it out, he brought the belt down across the tops of my legs. I pulled away and shrieked, but he just tightened his grip on the back of my neck and forced me up against the wall.
"What do you say?," he breathed in my ear.
"Thank you, Daddy," I gasped, trying to catch my breath.
"Good girl," and he quickly hit me again across the cheeks of my ass. "Again."
"Thank you, Daddy."
He continued to beat me, until my knees were shaking and the wetness from my pussy was running down my thighs. My behind was hot and sore, even more so when he ran his hand over it. I was having trouble standing and I hung my head so he couldn't see my tears. He pressed his body up against me and started whispering in my ear.
"Do you think you've learned to leave Daddy's cunt alone?"
"Yes, sir," I whispered hesitantly. Was he going to make me take more from the belt? I felt him fidgeting with something behind me and then I felt his hard cock against the cheeks of my sore ass.
"Your punishment isn't over," he said slowly, quietly. He pulled me closer to him by my hips and rubbed his cock against the wetness between my legs. "You know what Daddy wants now."
I nodded, apprehensive. He had been training me to take his cock, slowly teaching me to fuck him the way that he likes. I made sure that my feet were spread apart and I tilted my ass back toward him even more.
"Be a good girl," he cooed as he threaded his fingers through my hair. He pulled back sharply on my head as he forced his cock into my pussy. He started thrusting slowly, pushing me harder against the wall. "That's a good girl, take Daddy's cock."
It hurt and it felt so good all at the same time and before I knew it, he was urging me to come for him. "C'mon baby, come for Daddy, come all over my cock...," he kept up insistently as I moved in time with his hips. He put his hands over mine on the wall and held them there as I started coming, bucking against him and moaning. He held me tight as I came for him.
When my moans subsided, he turned me to face him. He cupped my chin in his hands and smiled at me. He took me by the hand and led me up the stairs to my bedroom, sitting me down on the bed in front of him. "Lay back and open your legs for me," he said as he leaned over me, cock in hand. He slid into me as he wrapped my legs around his waist.
I held on to his shoulder as he fucked me, slowly at first and then harder. He murmured into my hair, his voice soft and full of lust. "Daddy loves you so much, baby. You're such a good girl for Daddy." I gripped him closer as he pounded me harder and came in shuddering gasps.
"My girl...," he sighed as he laid beside me on the bed and caressed my face. "You love pleasing me don't you?"
I smiled and nodded happily. "Yes, Daddy. I do. Very much."
"Good girl."
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The foregoing is a fantasy, about which I'm trying to work up the courage to tell Him. Wish me luck!
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