Do You Want a Beating?

Daddy and I were home alone on a weekend.  He was leaving on a plane the next day and the separation loomed in front of us.

I told him I wanted to get drunk and massage him.  He was amenable to the idea.  Not that I need to be drunk to give a massage.  I always love touching him.  But there is a place I can slip into with just a slight buzz.  A physical, sexual place where I can close my eyes and just feel.  It is somethig akin to subspace, a different level of consciousness. 

We had a drink and Daddy was smoking a cigar.  We were out on our patio enjoying each other.  I felt too far from him sitting in the other chair and took the cushion from mine, putting it between his knees on the concrete. I knelt before him and wrapped my arms around his belly.  My safe place.  My rightful place in this world, at his feet.

I felt so many emotions there close to him.  I felt love and heat.  I felt the fear of losing him in this move.  I felt submissive and I wanted to have his cock in my mouth.  All these desires and feelings and fear fought to overwhelm me.  Yet I looked up to him when beckoned. 

“Mine.” He said.  Claiming what is his.  

“Yes Daddy, yours.” I smiled with the heat of my love apparent.  

 “What do you want baby girl?” 

“May I suck your cock Daddy?” I needed him.

“Yes, you may but first I want you to go put in the medium plug.” I nodded and rose from my position.  I went to our bathroom and applied lube to the medium anal plug.  I knelt at the sink and inserted it slowly.  I felt it stretch me wide then it was in.

I returned to Daddy and knelt again at his feet. He pulled down his shorts as I knelt further down.  I rolled my tongue around his already growing girth. That’s what I love, what I needed.  I lost myself in the taste, the smell, the texture of him in my mouth. I pulled him all the way into the back of my throat.  I sucked him until I gagged for air then I pulled back.  I looked up at him with a mouthful of cock. We made eye contact.  I feel vulnerable, so incredibly vulnerable like that but I forced myself to look up to him, to be seen in the act of pleasing him.  

Little did I know that he had taken pictures of me right before. He showed them to me later.  I looked entranced. I really loved the pictures actually.

After a while I pulled back to catch my breath.  “Do you want to a beating baby girl?”  I nodded yes.  I desperately needed one.  “Then rise and go inside.”

He knows what I need even when I don’t. 

Empty Days, Full Nights

Freedom awaits

Alone together

Cloistered with Him

Disruptions ceased
 

Walking the tether

His dominance beckons

Aching with a fervor

Desire paramount
 

His will not mine

Mists of sinewy need

Bind and ensnare

Breathless distraction
 

Debased and supplicant

Throbbing and yearning

Petitioning to serve

Whore for pleasure
 

Emotion flourishes

Pain blossoms

Monster unleashed

Exalted in torture

 
Please, I pray

Take, I beg

Use, I entreat

Your will, I serve

Hotel Sex

Yes, we had it on vacation.  In between hanging with family, meeting new people, dancing, eating, getting dressed up and all the rest of the debauchery of Vegas; we enjoyed each other.  

Since moving in together our sexual schedule has changed.  When we lived apart sex was a scheduled thing in many respects.  My son’s time with his dad predominantly governed the time I had free to spend with Daddy.  Our sex revolved around our limited time. All our pent up needs would wait and then when we saw each other we would have all that energy stored up like a wound rubberband. 

After moving in our schedule began to change.  I see Daddy every day now.  My son lives with us most of the time in a little house with very little separation of spaces.  Initially, I felt like I was on the same sexual schedule.  As the days without my son in the house would approach, I would get wound up.  Time with Daddy is coming! My body would tense up as my mind would do the happy dance that precursed our play times.  But as life would have it, things would get in the way.  Work was hard for one of us that day, family would be over, something got in the way of our tryst and I would get dejected. 

We’ve started having sex as husband and wife do, when the time and opportunity arise.  Sometimes hurried, sometimes being as quiet as mice because the child is home, but generally no longer on a ‘dating’ schedule. 

Sex in a hotel before this vacation wasn’t any different than sex at home together.  We were our same uninhibited selves.  This time though, it felt more free, more wild.  The child was in another state entirely.  I had my voice back.  I intermittenly wondered if the people in neighboring rooms could hear me. I didn’t care.  

Fire

He lights a candle and holds it close.  The light is soft and lures me.  I bask in the glow.  Once he feels me respond to his subtle little flame, he adds more fuel.  

The brightness shines a light over my soul.  He looks ever so closely and sees all of me.  He sees what I want to show, he sees what I hide.  He finds my fears and notices the barriers of my walls. 

A flame thus ignites within me. I respond in kind to his beacon.  I quake in fear that he sees me, that he knows my every secret.  But his light continues to shine bright as day even though my sins are now exposed. 

I see now that he will not turn away.  He wants my sin, he wants my hidden terrors.  He wants my dirty, rotten imperfections.  I roll like a swine in mud.  He grants me freedom to be the basest of pitiful things.

His high beam of stark honesty and vision ignites.  He takes the clay before him and carves out the pure beast within.  His talons grip me, his voracious fire consumes me.  I burn, oh how I burn in his realm.

From the fire emerges a passion that seeks its match and finds it in him.  Red and tumultuous, hot and painful it engulfs us.  The flames lick and eat and take their fill.  The eager coals smolder and deprive me of all my air.

I pant and rut.  His fire turns me on a spit.  Every basted bit is lashed by his words and his tongue.  No reason allows me succor. My thoughts, my being,  the primordial spark of me bends to him.

He fears losing control.  I can’t help him with that.  All my heart and morbid desires want him to lose himself and break me.  Each speck of glorious light I sense in him is answered with a raging wildfire.  

Heaven help me, he called me an angel.  But all I want is to grovel at his feet, to debase myself completely.  The fiber of my mind crackles in the viscous lava of my subservience to him.

Please, I beg of you, destroy all meaning.  Tear my walls and protections from me.  His voice stirs wicked desires.  His dirty words bind me to him for all eternity.  I fall deeper into the abyss gladly. 

Banter

Why banter?  Well, I was looking for a word.  One that would describe how Daddy and I were talking with each other last night.  He wanted me to suck his cock.  He had mentioned it while we were watching a movie.  Afterwards, we were snuggling on the bed and I had my hand on his cock.  Stroking it.  Feeling it grow from softness to hardness in my hand.  I love feeling it grow. He was teasing me.  I must ask for permission to suck his cock. For some reason, I resist having to ask.  Last night, it was intentional resistance.  I wanted to push him.  I felt a little bratty.  I try to resist the desire to be outright bratty but sometimes I do like to play with him.  I test the waters, so to speak.  Recently, I’ve wondered about disobedience and if that can be an intensity builder.  But, I digress.

“What are you doing there baby girl?”  I had been caressing him and I purposefully put my hand on his cock.

“I’m touching your cock Daddy.”

“No baby girl, that is your cock.” We’ve been going back and forth with pronouns lately.  He owns all my parts, they belong to him, they are his ass and his pussy, etc.  So, his cock being mine is reciprocal.  Except that it just continually trips up my language to his utter entertainment.

“Yes, Daddy.  My cock.”  My hand swirled around the shaft, feeling it grow and thicken.

“What do you want to do with your cock?  Well, he damned well knew I wanted to suck it but I was contemplating how much of an annoyance I wanted to be at that moment.

“Well, I want to do several things to it Daddy.”

He placed a thumb under my chin to force me to look up at him.  His lips met mine.  Then his index finger caressed the top of my tongue.  He takes possession of my mouth this way and suddenly he has my undivided attention.  His finger went all the way down my throat and hooked onto the back of my tongue making me wince and cough.  I was trapped.  His lips kissed my cheek near my ear.

“You will get up, take off your clothes and get on top of me.  Do you understand?” I nodded.  So much for my silly games.  He changed direction completely. I got up off the bed and stripped off my clothes.  Naked, I returned to the bed and knelt near his waist.  I threw a leg over him and as I was mounting him, he got out the Hitachi vibrator.  I have such a love hate relationship with that piece of equipment.  He brings me to orgasm with it so I love it but I have no control over it and I don’t always feel prepared for the level of intensity it provides. I know he loves it for just the same reasons I hate it.

He put the wand in between our bodies so the head was right on my clit and turned it on.  Then he said, “Move.” I had already put his cock up inside me so now I began to move on top of him.  Slowly I found a rhythm and began to fuck his cock.  The sensation of the vibrator on me while I worked his cock in and out was amazing.  I knew what he wanted.  He wanted me to orgasm for him.  I did not feel the tightening in my gut that I usually feel when an orgasm is coming.  He kept me on top of him, fucking him and at some point he turned the speed up on the vibrator.  That insane level of vibration should just push me right over the edge but it wasn’t.  Something must have shown on my face because he pulled me to him.

“Stop stressing.  Stop chasing the orgasm.  Don’t stress.  Hear me?” I nodded and realized then that I was wound really tight trying to give him what he wanted.  I don’t know why that happens.  Sometimes, things are just slightly off for me and if I don’t feel my body perform for him then I start to get stressed.  I’ve never faked it, I never saw the point.  Plus, I’m a horrible actress.  Daddy specifically told me never to fake it with him so I never would.  He has chosen to help me with this so I try my best not to let any of it get me twisted.  But I guess, right then, I had.

“Get down baby girl.” He turned me over on my side and I slipped off him.  He pointed to the bed.  “Face down in the middle of the bed.”  I obeyed.  The next thing I felt was the big flogger making contact with my ass cheeks.  It was heavy and I felt my ass cheeks bounce up as the impact ran across my flesh.  He landed a couple strikes on one cheek and then the other.  I squirmed as the falls connected with my skin.  I had not expected a flogging.  The falls struck my lower back and then my ass again.  He draped the flogger across my back.  The weight of it pinned me down while I felt his face push into my ass.  Then his tongue thrust into my asshole with a warm wetness that was in such contrast to the hard hits of the flogger.  I moaned out in pure pleasure.  It was amazing and decadent.  I love when he does that.

After the sweet torture of multiple rounds of flogger vs. tongue, he told me to lie flat and lift my ass in the air.  From this angle, he put his legs on either side of mine and mounted me.  His cock pushed in between my closed legs and into my tightly held pussy.  In this position, his legs force mine closed and he braces himself by putting his hands on my shoulders.  With his body pressing mine into the bed, I am trapped and in for a ride.  His hands hold me down and he fucks me while I’m under his weight.

At some point, we flipped to me on my side. He loves this position because it gives him access to my ass. The last time we were together, he had wanted to have anal sex and I begged out of it.  It was our mid-week night together and I was having a bad work week.  I just couldn’t get my head off the day and relaxed.  So, now, he teased my ass again with that still hanging in the air.

“Girl, you will be giving me your ass soon.  Not tonight but very soon.”

“Yes Daddy.  I will…I want to.” With him being so girthy, it takes time and it takes me being in a good mental place to do it.  I love giving him that.  I love that I’m the only person who has.  And, I really love anal sex.  It does something to me.  It brings out the visceral, the animal.  I make the oddest animal noises when he plays with my ass or fucks me there.  It’s very, very intense for me.

He bent my leg up and entered me from behind.  As he did that I could feel drops of lube on my asshole.  I knew what came next.  His finger pushed inside my ass.  I gripped the bed sheets with my hands.  Initially, it is always uncomfortable but soon the pleasure outpaces that.  I moaned.  I cried out.  He pushed his finger into me again.

His cock pushed in again then his finger repeated the stroke in my backside.  I was moaning consistently now.  I simply can’t control it.  He was talking to me. “Girl you are in my head.  You have been from the very beginning.”

I know I was talking to him.  He winds me up and then I’m in some trance and I beg him, I talk to him in some trance-like state. “Yes Daddy, fuck me.  God, yes, please.  My ass is yours.  Take it.  Take my ass.  You will have it.  I’m yours.” I don’t know what more I say or how.  Maybe he can understand or maybe not.  I have no idea.  I’m twisting for him by then.  At some point, I hear him yell and I feel his body shaking as he orgasms.  God, I love that.

Timidity Undone

After writing my fantasy last night and also thinking of my post about having no choice, I realize more clearly one of the reasons why I crave Mr. D’s dominance so much.

I have a timid, good girl side. If I’m going to do something risky, I weigh all the options and possible outcomes of the risky behavior first. Sometimes, many times, it has stopped me from taking any action at all.

I’ve recently seen friends of mine frozen that way, too.  It frustrates me to see them locked up within their own fears and not living their lives fully.  I have been there myself.  I wasted too much time.

I’m not as timid anymore. I became a nudist on my own. It took 3 years of testing the waters but I did it. I wanted to be a part of this lifestyle so I tortured myself by going to every Munch around and made myself talk to people. I had an affair with a couple. I wanted that and made it happen. I said yes immediately when Mr. D found me on Fet. I push myself. I don’t stay in my shell anymore, but I know it is there ever present.  

When I was fantasizing about the scenario where Daddy told me to go service his friend…to act as his slut, I took a step back while I was watching this scenario unfold inside my head.  Would I do this act without Daddy ordering it? No.  

When I saw Daddy this morning, he asked me which one of his friends I had chosen because I hadn’t specified in the post.  To be honest, I chose the friend I knew for certain would want the attention.  It was El Jefe, who we almost played with one night a while back. Easy choice because it was a fail safe, no lose choice.  What I neglected to elaborate was that there were others in this imaginary room.  There will be six of us this weekend and that was the scenario I imagined.  What halted my fantasy for a moment was trying to imagine myself obeying Daddy while not knowing how two of the other guests would feel about watching such an action by me.  In real life, I know a question like that would freeze me.

If Daddy orders me, though, my free will is taken from me at that point.  I must trust his will.  It’s not always easy.  He asked me to get undressed in front of strangers once.  I hesitated and he had to ask me twice.  But I did it and I was happy I pleased him and giddy excited inside when I did it.

I eagerly want to please him.  I want to experience more edgy things like playing with others. When we were on the cusp of playing with El Jefe, they both looked at me and said, “It’s your choice.” Left all up to me, I chose timidly. I declined.  If Daddy had ordered me…I would have done it, no question.  I wanted to, I just let all the questions in my head stop me.

I want to please him and I also hunger for his lead.  I know I truly want to do more than I choose to do on my own.  His dominance is a way for me to safely come out of my shell.  I must unfurl my wings.  I am bidden to fly for him.  That is a most freeing gift.

Another aspect of this is the slut angle.  The other night Daddy and I were playing.  I was between his legs giving him head.  He was talking to me and pushing me to deep throat him more.  I really try but can’t get him all the way in my throat.  It’s like it just hits the back and won’t go in sometimes. He asked me very forcefully, “You want to be a dirty little slut, don’t you?” Something in me rebelled.  No! My mind countered.  I’m good.  I’m not like that. It was my upbringing talking back and fighting it.  Then he changed the question and asked, “You want to be MY dirty little slut, don’t you?” And then all was right with our world.  My mind shifted and I remembered my place. 

“Yes, Daddy, I want that.”  It shook me.  The word play has a level of humiliation to it.  When he calls me slut and other names during our play, it drops me into a submissive place immediately.  I feel it viscerally rather than rationalize that I’m his to debase.  I’m his to own.  I’m his to control.  I’m his to lead.  It drops me out of my day-to-day place in the world and allows me the freedom to be something more lurid and wild.  I crave him taking me to that place.  When he leads me there, I would do anything for him.  The words, his dominance, his desire all lead me down the rabbit hole.  The further we go the more I want to reach the depths and the deeper I ache to explore. 

My fantasy was just a fantasy so far.  But I do see myself submitting more deeply to him.  I want to give him more control.  I want him to lead me to places I’ve never been and I want to do whatever puts the fire in his eyes when he looks at me.  That’s the key.  

Addiction

I have Saturday’s scenario to write about but all I can think about right now is Mr. D taking me to another place. It’s kind of insane how much my body and mind aches for his Dominance. I want him constantly. It dulls down when life is difficult and my plate is very full but then I am in his presence again. I have him around me and the aching need comes over me like a wave of heat. I do my best to be a good girlfriend and a good person, taking care of regular life duties. Deep inside, though, I have this desire to be his little slave and bow to him and serve him and to give all my body and soul to him.

I want this because his touch and his Dominance on me feel like a drug. I feel that addictive sensation of wanting nothing more than to be his little play thing and do whatever he commands, whatever he deems worthy and will thrill him. I’ve always known I’m submissive but this feels like something more. He burns a wildfire in me that I’ve never felt. His darkness makes my heart sing. His touch and his strength fill me with heat and with dread and with wantonness that continues to flourish and grow.