Shower Scene

By the end of the eventful day in the pool, I was slightly tipsy and very horny.  Mr. D leaned into me, kissing me with intensity.  “Want to go upstairs?” I asked.  I wanted him.

He looked around the pool, the other couples were occupied. “Yeah, let’s go.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the stairs.  We waved to our crew and went up to the room.

Daddy led me to the balcony overlooking the pool.  On the tenth floor, no one could see us unless we were right at the railing. He pushed me down on the chaise lounge and pulled my bikini bottoms off.  His fingers probed me.  He worked them inside me until I was wet and ready.   He mounted me there, outside in the hot, humid air.  I was panting for him after all the teasing. 

After a brief fucking, we got up and went into the room to get more comfortable.  I took the rest of my suit off in the shower to hang it up.  Our shower was an open plan with no door and a glass block wall.  Inside there were two travertine blocks about two feet high that served as shelves.  Daddy joined me in the shower and said, “Bend over, hands on the blocks.” 

“Yes Daddy.” I did as commanded. My hands propped me up on the blocks. My head was against the wall and my ass up in the air.  He gripped my hips and maneuvered himself until his cock pushed up against my pussy.  I widened my stance until my feet were against each wall. It brought me down onto his cock.  He pumped into me while the water sprinkled over us.  I love being taken from behind and this shower served well for that purpose. 

We moved from the shower to the bed.  “Get on your side.” Daddy said.  He pushed one of my legs up into the fetal position and the other down between his legs.  He can slide right into my pussy this way and still have access to my ass.

“I own you.  You’re mine.” His cock slammed home. 

“Yes Daddy!” I said as I felt his thrust hit home.  He lubed his fingers and slid one in my ass.  I moaned loudly.  There was no one to disturb with my cries.  We were away from home and alone in the rooms.  He was relentless with his finger and then multiple fingers in my ass.  He reamed me.  I cried out and panted and held on under the onslaught. 

After a few minutes, Daddy switched our positions and was between my legs fucking me on my back. “I want your ass.  It’s mine and I’m going to take it.”

I knew that would fail miserably right then.  My ass was not ready.  I can tell when it’s a good day for anal and it wasn’t.  My body wasn’t prepared, my mind wasn’t prepared.  Oddly, I didn’t stress about it.  I was immediately resigned, I suppose.  I didn’t give it a thought.  “On your belly.” He said.  

I was on my belly waiting.  Then I realized it had been too long.  He wasn’t making a move.  It was too quiet.  I looked back up to him.  “What’s wrong Daddy?” He gathered me up in his arms.

“It’s not fair to do that to you.  We aren’t prepared and we don’t have the right toys with us.” We snuggled and I felt cradled in his care at the moment. 

“Baby girl, next week on Thursday you will take your plug and lube to work.  You will wait until the afternoon and then will put the plug in your ass.  You will wear it for two hours before you come home. Understand?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Then, I will take your ass.”

I was giddy then.  An order, planned preparation, owned and kept for a purpose.  I felt complete. 

Threshold

The last time Mr. D and I played he used a small, rubber whip it.  I don’t exactly know what it’s called.  It is short, has a thin handle and long stretchy rubber noodles coming out of the end.  He whips me with the noodles and ouch, do they sting! I brought Mr. D a gift that day. I had purchased some bondage tape and a small vibrator. He decided to bind my breasts with the tape. He sat in his big chair and had me lean forward over his lap. He wrapped the thick black tape around each breast and then bound them together. After he bound my breasts he had me lie on my back in the middle of the bed. Just getting to the middle of the bed was a challenge. My breasts were so heavy like that, standing out from my body. I had to support them with my hands.

After a few moments of getting into position and adjusting to the tape Mr. D raised my knees to my chest and climbed between my legs.  His pushed himself inside me and for a few blissful moments all I could focus on was the pleasure of him inside me. Briefly, he leaned forward and the weight of him on my bound breasts was intense. Once he was quite deep inside he told me to grab ahold of the bed frame.  His bed headboard has a section of posts in the middle of it that I can hold onto.  He commanded me to not let go.  He knows this is torture for me because I don’t get to touch him.  I honestly think that touch is a stronger sense for me than the other senses.  At least I feel bereft in some visceral way when I’m bound or commanded not to touch. After our sessions when I’ve been bound I feel a disconnected empty feeling until I get to touch him again.  It’s strange but I know it happens.  Aftercare makes that feeling go away.

As Mr. D took me, he began to whip my breasts.  Damn it hurt.  I love being under his control and feeling what he wants me to feel.  I can’t hold back how the pain feels like I used to.  I feel more confident that my reactions aren’t going to make him stop the play these days.  It’s actually rather amazing to be able to express pain or hurt to someone.  I’m so used to covering those feelings that I do it naturally.  I suppose most people do. But with the level of pain that he was inflicting on my breasts with the whip, there was no holding back.  I could barely stand it.  After a while, I was bearing it and wanted to call my safe word but I kept thinking, I can do this, I can stand it.  I was desperate to protect myself at one point and let go of the bed posts.  My whole body cried out for me to cross my arms over my burning breasts but I didn’t.  I let go of the bed and brought my arms down but didn’t cross them or touch him.  I kept them out of his way.  At that point he stopped for a few moments.

“You’re messing with Daddy’s head little girl. You have this tortured looked on your face but every time I start striking you again you get wetter and wetter. Makes me wonder.”  It makes me wonder too.  And he was right, too.  Once he said that, I realized that we were both slick with my wetness from belly to thigh.  I’ve only been that kind of wet a few times and each time it was when he was bringing me pain.

The odd thing is that if you gave me my choice, I wouldn’t choose this kind of pain. My thought is that I like long spankings where there is a lot of prep and warm up.  Then the pain builds and isn’t so stingy.  But I can’t deny how my body reacts.  There’s no faking that.  Somewhere buried deep inside me, I crave this pain and his domination.  I think a big part of the intense passion he provokes with this pain is from his dominance.  He demands I submit to the pain so I do and the result is me turning into a sodden mess under him.