The Bathroom Door

I arrived at Mr. D’s home and said hello to our friends on the way to his room. As a walked in his door, I knew something was up. Daddy was waiting for me at the foot of his bed.

“Drop your things by the door and take your clothes off right there.” I watched him carefully as I dropped my bags, closed the door and began to take off my clothes. Fortunately, I had something loose on for him so it was fairly easy to do. “Put this on and face the bathroom door.” He handed me the leather blindfold.

I put on the blindfold and stood in front of the closed bathroom door, nervous. His dominance was palpable. I wondered what I had done wrong or if he was simply feeling the darkness. “Arms up and hands on the door.” I obeyed and put my hands up on the door. “Legs spread.” I spread them and immediately felt his hand on my hip. His touch drifted around my thigh and up to my sex. His other hand gripped my hair and pulled my head back to his mouth. His lips burned a trail along my neck.

“Who are you?” He asked, his baritone rumbling through my body down to my toes.

“I’m your slut, Daddy.”
He whipped me with his small rubber whip. It is a small but deviously stingy device.

“That’s right, you are.” His hand tormented my sex again awakening my desire. “To whom do you belong?”

“You, Daddy.” I was panting. Talking was becoming decidedly more difficult as my mind slipped away under the power of his control. He spanked my ass in quick succession, one side then the other.

“Did you do your homework slut?” Think rabbit, think. Yes! Thank God, I did!

“Yes, Daddy. I did.” He paused. I wondered then if he expected me to fail. He must have. I was so happy I hadn’t failed him but damned if I didn’t ache for the punishment. Why did I do as told?

“You masturbated for me all three nights?” I nodded. Okay, maybe one night I had fallen asleep but I woke up in the early morning and finished. Hopefully, that counts. Three times is three times, dang it.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“And you used the pink plug one of the times?” 

“Yes Daddy, I used the pink plug.”

He hesitated, “Good girl.” I exhaled my relief. I can’t be a bad girl all the time, can I? If I never finish my tasks he’ll stop giving me any to do. “Kneel for me.”
I turned from the door and knelt in my place for him. My eyes drifted downward, my hands behind my back. I try to keep my eyes down but I always end up looking at him. I wonder at times if he wants my eyes downcast or not. I try. He approached me and leaned over until his face was near mine.

“What do you want slut?” What do I want? My mind was a blank. I wanted to serve him. I wanted to be whatever he wanted. But what do I want? I didn’t know how to answer. I was drifting in the sub realm and talking gets harder for me there.

His lips tormented my neck and his fingers tipped my head back. He knows how vulnerable this makes me feel. He does it on purpose. “I want to bite it.” I moaned and turned my head away to move his lips to the side of my neck. “Don’t you turn away from me.” The torment continued. 

“What do you want?”

“I want you Daddy.” Well, okay, that’s a given. I shook my head mentally at myself. He had me so wound up and off balance with the neck torture I couldn’t think straight.

“You have me baby girl. What do YOU want?” He was pushing me now.

“I want to suck your cock.” It was, after all, right there in front of me. His body was pressed up against mine so hard that I was being pushed backwards. It was all I could do to keep rigid and not fall over from the pressure.

“You do?” He paused, perhaps waiting to see if I came up with something more brilliant. My brilliance was in short supply. 

“Well, then, suck.” He leaned back and thrust his cock at me. I caught it in my lips as my hands were still cupped behind me. I sucked him into my mouth, moistening it as I pulled it deeper inside. I lavished my attentions on his member. I kept taking him deeper and deeper until his head was pushing deep into my throat. “Oh God, baby.” He moaned. That definitely told me I was doing well. It makes me so incredibly happy when I do something so right that he speaks out like that. I pulled back and tried again. Each time I took him a little more deeply. Finally, he grabbed the back of my head and held himself in my throat until I didn’t know if I could hold it any longer. Finally, he released me and I coughed from the need to breath.

At this point, I’ll be completely honest; I have too many options in my mind to continue the story. I remember him using rope one evening. Was it this evening? I’m not sure but I think so. What I do remember with blinding clarity is that Daddy used a different tactic with me on this night. Instead of allowing me to be my usual self or trying to get me to be verbal of my own accord…which does happen when he spins me up enough, he tried something different. He kept asking me questions. He verbally led me to talk dirty to him while he was taking me. In each position, at each pause, he asked me to describe what he was doing and how he was doing it. That was so hot. I never felt hung out on my own wondering if I made any sense. I just followed his lead and we verbally made love. I loved it.  

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.