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Ooh, Daddy! (Part 1)

When I get back to the room—feet clean, mind confused—I find Himself sitting, still fully dressed, on the edge of the bed. I stop in the doorway, head bowed, until he calls me to him.


I pull off my nightgown and stand in front of him. He runs his eyes up and down my naked body, then points to the floor.

“Kneel.” Then, “Take my shoes off.”

This is one of his favorite things, even when we’re not playing. I like it because it makes me feel so submissive to serve my Sir that way. Tonight, it’s easy—Chucks instead of combat boots—and I have them off in no time. When I’m finished, I sit back a bit on my heels, eyes lowered, waiting.

“Give me your arm.”

He fastens one wrist cuff in place, then the other. Next, he motions for me to tilt my head forward. I pull my hair out of the way so he can buckle my collar in place, and feel myself starting to slip away…He tilts my head up and slides the blindfold into place, then releases me.

As I kneel on the floor between his feet I focus on being his toy–his to play with, to enjoy, to use however he wants, to torture if he the fancy strikes him. I feel myself slipping deeper and deeper into submission and my pussy throbs, hard, thinking about his power over me.

Without warning, he flicks my nipples and I gasp. My head up, more alert now, I wait…there! Another flick. Several more in quick succession, and I start to moan, but he stops. Dammit! I try not to pout: HIS toy. HIS schedule! My patience is rewarded when he starts to strike my nipples lightly with the crop.

smack smack smack

I can feel my nipples standing at attention as he attacks them from all sides, and I moan and whimper and thrust my breasts out as far as I can. He picks up the pace, putting a little more muscle into it now…It’s starting to hurt just a bit, and I gasp again, rocking a little on my heels but still thrusting my nipples out and up.

I stay In position when he stops, panting, until he pulls me toward him. I’m sure I’m going to get his cock in my mouth—but no, not yet. He crops my ass, back, and shoulders: lightly at first, just brushing my skin really, and I start to feel tingly all over. Then the blows come a little harder and faster, and I can feel my skin warming. He stops for a moment and I focus on the heat suffusing me, spreading from the impact points, waiting for the next strike.

I hear a whoosh, and the heavy flogger thuds into me. I feel it all the way through me, in my pussy, my clit, my nipples. He hits me again, and my pussy clenches in response. I moan through a quick flurry of thuds all over the back of my body.

He pushes me back onto my heels, and flogs my breasts. They’re still warm from the crop and the flogger feels so, so good, even—especially!–on my hard, sensitized nipples I lean into it as much as I can.

“Stand up.”

I peel my eyes open, then remember that I can’t see anything anyway and close them again. Holding onto his legs for support I pull myself upright and sway in front of him.

“Get on the bed.”

I scramble into place, listening to him as he walks around the bed. He tugs me forward a little bit, then clips my leash to my collar. That “snick” makes me feel all warm and gooey inside. I lie down, spread my legs, and lift my ass as high in the air as I can, and relax back into the flogging.

He pauses, and then…


Oh holy fuck, it’s that damn crop again.

[Let me explain something here: I am quite fond of the business end of my crop. You know the slapper, that little piece of leather? The part that’s supposed to make contact with the horse (or sub) flesh? I like that. But the handle, used as a cane, is another thing altogether. That, I hate. Well, I enjoy how it feels AFTER, the endorphin rush, and the spreading heat around the line of impact. But I hate it at the time.

[Does that all make sense? No? Good, ’cause it doesn’t to me either. LOL]

My Sir whacked me hard across the ass with the handle of the crop again. It hurt, I screamed, he chuckled. He did it again, same routine. Then back to flogging, which felt mercifully gentle, and a couple more whacks with the cane with predictable results.

Then, for the second time that night, he noticed my feet.

Oh my holy fucking mother of god.

I can say with certainty that I do not—do NOT—like bastinado. I kicked and screeched and kicked again, fluttering my feet really fast, trying to make it impossible for him to hit them.

Sadly, I did not succeed.

After a few good (??) strikes, he went back to the flogging my ass, then my cunt–gently, with lots of thud and no sting. It completely made up for the cane, and gave me the most delicious feeling in my girly parts.

Some uncertain time later (5 seconds? 2 hours?? who knows, I was floaty) he tugged on my leash and ordered me to the other side of the bed. I heard him unzip and leaned forward, eager to take his cock in my mouth, but he pushed my head to the side.

“Hmm, maybe he wants me to lick his balls first,” I thought dazedly; but when I dipped down toward them he fisted my hair and pulled me back up. His cock nudged my right cheek, so I turned a little, thinking “how on earth could he miss my mouth? It’s not like we haven’t done this before!”

“Be still.”

“Well, OK,” I thought, “you’re the boss, but really, it’s not that hard to hit the tar—-”



Smack smack!


Dick-smacking is a mystery to me. How on earth can that not hurt him? I mean, he was really going to town. If I slapped his dick that hard with my hand he would NOT be a happy man…

Smack smack smack smack!

I felt fluid splash on my face. “Hmm,” I thought, “what’s that now?” I licked the corner of my mouth and tasted cum–salty, warm, delicious pre-cum, spraying wildly across my cheeks from the force of the dick-smacking he was giving me.

My pussy throbbed, hard. Oh, god.

Here’s the second part of the dick-smacking mystery: It doesn’t hurt, but it doesn’t really feel good either. So why the hell does it make my pussy throb so hard??

I think I may have moaned a few times.

“You like that?”

Oh, yes, Sir, I moaned.

“You’re a good little slut.” I moaned again. “Good little sluts get rewarded.” I started panting, anxious for my reward, which I was sure was finally going to be his dick.

A click, then a sound like a swarm of angry killer bees…

Fuck! The violet wand!

Our violet wand is old, decades old, and it’s noisy. The higher the setting, the noisier it gets, and it was Really. Fucking. Noisy.

No no no no no no no no oh please no….

My right nippled exploded and the air was full of the smell of ozone. I shrieked. He chuckled. (I am starting to notice a disturbing trend here—I shriek, he laughs, and he does “it” again. Why does he even try to deny he’s a sadist??) He zapped me again, then got the other side. I started bouncing, trying to maintain position but still get the hell away from the wand.

“Stay still.”

….yes, sir, I whimpered.

He ran it down my back (which actually felt quite good), down to my ass, then back to my breasts, never quite in contact with my skin, while I yipped and squealed and tried my best not to move. He zapped my nipples a few more times and laughed when I arched my back up, trying (unsuccessfully) to escape the wand. I was trapped, and he knew it. Zap, zap, zap—back and forth, rubbing gently and then pulling away to let the electricity arc, and me shrieking loudly at every touch.

He moved down my body—sweet relief!!–to my cunt—oh, fuck! He moved it slowly, gently, down my slit, zapping me all the way. He pulled it back a little and let it arc toward my clit.


Back down, back up, then back again to my more, wartenberg-wheel-abused asshole, and—ZAP!!


He laughs,and does it a few more times. He starts to rub it deeper, harder, against my cunt. No more arcing, just the warmth of the glass and a faint vibration…I start mewing and pressing against the attachment. It feels so lovely, this way. He slides it up to my clit, rubbing gently, then letting me grind against it for awhile, and I can feel myself getting wetter.

Wheel Zap 1

He moves the head of the attachment down to   my entrance and pushes against it, teasing. In a little, back out, in a little again, a little farther each time. I thrust back because oh, it feels good, and there’s no way it can actually slip inside–


Oh hell, it slipped inside!!

I giggle helplessly, thinking, a) wow, that actually feels pretty good!; b) what if it doesn’t slip back out again? and c) holy cow, what if it breaks off in there?!?

Himself seems to have none of these concerns, he just keeps gently thrusting, turning it a little now and then, rubbing Really. Good. Places with it, and it feels like someone with a very tiny little hand is fisting me…mmmmmm. I feel myself turning to jelly.

He runs his hands up my back, and sparks fly from his fingertips. I shriek and giggle, and he chuckles with delight. He plays with his electrified hands for a couple minutes, mercilessly attacking my nipples again, playing with my cunt, rubbing my clit, and probing my asshole.

“I think I’m going to fuck you in the ass now.”


“You have such a nice little asshole, so warm and tight. My dick can’t wait to get in there.”


“I wonder if I can get in there with the violet wand in your cunt? I think we should try, don’t you?”

…garbled, unintelligible speech that translates roughly to “I don’t think it’s gonna fit, Sir.”

Apparently he doesn’t speak garble, because he decides to give it a go.

His fingers rub cool lube against my tight little hole, sliding inside, stretching me to accommodate his girth. It feels good and I buck back against him, moaning as he slides a finger all the way in.

“That feels interesting,” he says, rubbing the edge of the attachment through my vaginal wall.


“Are you ready?”


I seem to have lost the power of speech completely by this point. I am thinking “no no no it won’t fit!” but he is hearing “yes yes yes put it in!” So he puts it in.

Surprisingly (to me, anyway), it fits. It’s not comfortable, but it does fit. Who knew!!

However, fitting does not equate to comfort. He pulls back out, then gently removes the attachment from my cunt. It leaves with another little ::pop!:: and suddenly I feel positively spacious inside.

He slides his dick back into my ass, much easier this time. He gives me a moment to adjust and then starts thrusting, gently at first, then bulding up, faster and harder….

“I want you to come.”


“Come for me. I want to feel you come while I’m inside you.”

Dutifully, I reach down to my cunt and start playing with my clit. I am soaking wet, and my clit is almost fully engorged. I find it challenging to masturbate while he’s inside me, thrusting—I keep getting distracted.

“Woman! Play with yourself.”

Oh, right! Okay, back to the task at hand…I start rubbing again, focusing a little better this time. It helps that I’m getting closer and closer and my clit is adamant that I continue the process…After a minute or two, I can feel it, getting close, close, close, and then…

I’m cuh…cuh…cuh…cumming! Oh god, Daddy, I’m cuh…cuh…cumming!

The orgasm explodes in my cunt. My muscles squeeze down hard on his cock, buried balls-deep inside me. He rubs across my g-spot with every thrust, and I keep playing with my clit, eking out a few more orgasms. As the last one trails away he thrusts hard a few more times and empties himself inside me. I love the way he pumps, and stops, and growls, and then pumps again when he’s coming…finally he shudders to a stop, growls low one last time, and collapses against me. I squeeze his cock a few times and he chuckles raggedly, still out of breath.

“Woman, stop!” he orders finally. I giggle like a maniac again (orgasms make me so giddy!) but I do stop.

He wraps his arms around me, holding me close to him, and nuzzles my neck.

“You belong to me.”

Yes, Daddy. Always.