Him

It's late, but I wanted to get this all down. Before the edges of my memory start to fray and I forget what it felt like. I am writing this now, tracing my fingers along the outlines, the delicious bruising his fingers have left. Deep purple blooms, my inner thighs, my hips, the edges of my collar bone. A delicious sting as I rub oil into the edges. I’m brushing the knots out of my hair, carefully unravelling where he gathered me all up, and then let me go. 

~~~

I am nervous. Fussing with the top of my stockings. The suspender hooks won’t stick, the silk too slippery, the hooks not sharp enough to hold. My fingers all thumbs, missing the catch in haste, getting flustered, trying not to ladder them. Hardly enhancing the picture of cool, calm and collected I am trying to exude. Finally the last hook slides into place, without a hitch. I haven’t ruined my manicure. Hot pink. Glossy and matching the trim on my underwear, a hint of it in my lipstick too. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Hair in place, two braids down my back, away from my face. I need to reapply my lipstick. Naturally flushed. Deep breaths. He'll be here any minute. 

He hasn’t told me where we are going. Only that I won’t be required to wear more than the underwear he’s sent to the hotel room. And the heels, my size in a box, with ribbons. Maybe add those to your hair, I uncurl the braids remembering the instruction. Wind the satin ribbon through instead. Almost ready. A touch of perfume. A knock on the door. My heart is hammering in my chest. 

He…

...Walks through the door, I’m leaning over the dresser reapplying the last touches of mascara to my lashes. I can see him behind me without needing to turn around. A delicious shiver runs through me. I’m not sure if I’ve added all the components just right. The silk stocking’s seams need to be pin straight. I have checked, and checked again, but it may be too late now. The waspie cinching in my waist, tight. The corset straps are pulled as far as possible and tied in a perfect bow, equal straps on either side. 

Symmetry is important, baby… 

Suspender ribbons tied up too, nothing left looking undone. And equally aligned, down each thigh, hugging the curves over my knickers. My nipples hard, exposed. The set complete with a delicate thin gold harness, almost invisible – hooked from collar to waist cincher to the o ring on the back of the underwear. The hint of being touched, but not quite. 

He…

…is almost behind me now. I can feel his breath, on the back of my neck. I move to stand up straight and he stops me. 

No, don’t move

His hands now on either side of me on the dresser. The force of him keeps me still. He breathes me in. I can hear the blood rushing through me with just the proximity of him, after so long. After all the messages. The instructions… Not too much powder, I want to see your skin flush. And… no touching yourself. Not once, baby. Not until I am there. And here he is. I am trembling, waiting for him to speak, or touch me, or move. He does none of these things, for what feels like ages. I make a move to finish my lipstick, my mouth having gone dry, every inch of me on high alert. He snatches my hand away. Holds it to the dresser. Buries his face in my hair for a moment. I’m almost dizzy with his presence, so close. 

Good. That’s the right perfume baby

Relief, he had given me a choice of three. The wrong choice would result in short, sharp discipline. But for now I am rewarded with his right hand, running up the length of my suspender, the left tracing the edges of my knickers. I can feel my pussy swelling against the satin, aching for his touch. I catch my breath as he snaps the suspender hard against my skin. 

Fuck…  

Without warning he pushes me down onto the dresser. The perfume spills across the top, powders and creams scatter to the floor. Something breaks. He is not distracted by this…

Suspenders are not equal are they baby?

His voice in my ear as he pulls them both up, I can feel my stockings straining against the tug of his hands readjusting the length, the seams. My knickers now soaking through, the force of him against me. The glass on the top of the dresser is cold against my nipples, against my right cheek, he is still holding me down. Evaluating the symmetry, one bright red mark now on the back of my right thigh. 

Well.. we will need to even that out

The sting shoots straight through me, he’s snapped the left suspender hard, and followed it with a full hand to my ass cheek. I gasp. 

Better. Now fix your make up so I can ruin it again. More obedience  

I stand up as he sits down on the chair across from the bed. Adjust my collar. I can hear him unbutton his shirt. I reapply my smudged lipstick. Unwind the ribbon from my hair, pull the brush through it. Rewind it. Touch up my eye make up, clear up the smudges. 

Good girl.. now, what about those knickers.. quite a mess you’ve made of yourself…  

I flush bright red. The evidence of my need for him is so blatant, no question how much I want this. 

Bring them to me. 

I step out of them, careful not to misalign the suspenders, and keep the seams on my stocking in perfect parallel lines. I step into the stilettos, walk over. Trying not to fall. My head spinning. 

I kneel in front of him, as he always asks me too, an unspoken ritual now. Hand over my soaking panties, the satin now a dark shade of scarlet. 

Such a mess baby… and these were expensive—you can’t help yourself can you? 

I shake my head, I can’t. I can feel my cunt drip down my thighs as he speaks to me, he doesn't even need to touch me to elicit this reaction. 

He stands up, moves to the bed. 

Right. That’s twenty five.

I stand up and take a deep breath, preparing to speak for the first time since he’s arrived, With what Daddy? He smiles, and doesn't answer me. I position myself, as directed over his knee. 

Open

I do, and he shoves my soaking knickers into my mouth. 

And then he begins. Hard, forceful spanks across my ass cheeks. In quick succession. One, two, three, four, five, six… and my head starts to swim. The pain increases with each one, no respite between counts… seven, eight, nine.. I cry out, muffled by the satin in my mouth. My eyes watering now, the moment before the endorphins release and I don’t think I can take it. I move my hand instinctively, and he doubles down on the force. Ten, eleven, twelve… I am in tears now, sobs in the back of my throat. He does not let up. Thirteen, fourteen… fifteen. My breath catching now, my chest heaving. He stops. 

Now baby are you going to ruin Daddy’s gifts again?  

I shake my head no. My face streaked with mascara, salt and tears. He grabs my ass cheeks, No you won’t baby. The respite allows for the flood of endorphins to release. His hands on my hot red skin, a chance to catch my breath. 

We have ten more… now you take them like a good girl. 

I take a breath… Sixteen, harder than all of the others before. I cry out hard. Seventeen.. even harder. This will bruise. I wriggle… Eighteen… the force knocks me out of my heels… nineteen, twenty, twenty one… he pulls the knickers out of my mouth… I whimper.. Daddy.. please… he grins. 

Nearly there baby, this was your fault. 

Twenty two, twenty three, twenty four… and he stops. 

I can just hear my breath. Ragged, sobbing, heaving… I won’t pass out. I tell myself as the euphoria of subspace descends. 

Twenty five. 

The relief is a release—I let go. My whole body melting into the bed, the floor. His hands massaging my tender behind. He is talking but I can’t hear him. Soothing. I breathe myself back into the room. Slowly. Ready now for him. Complete in my submission.  

There you are 

I can hear the smile in his voice then, as his fingers unlace the waist cincher. Slowly pulling the corset away from my body inch by inch. I can feel myself beginning to regain control of my hands, my legs. I start to push myself up, and he holds me still. Not yet… the waspie now unlaced, unhooked, and discarded on the floor. The marks imprinted on my skin contrast against the bruising on my ass, the grazes on my thighs. I don’t move and he runs his fingers between my legs, exploring the edges of my aching cunt. I moan. Please Daddy… his fingers then push inside me, one, two, three… the pleasure after the pain, I can feel my whole body contract, the anticipation, the bliss of it. 

Fuck yes baby …so so wet for me… that’s much better. 

He pulls me up by the back of my collar so I am now kneeling between his legs, unzips his trousers and takes his aching hard cock in his hands. 

See what you do to me? Now what are you going to do about it? No excuses 

I groan, the sight of his cock makes my cunt ache, I need to taste him. Feel him fill my throat. I open my mouth wide and he pushes his cock into my mouth. Hitting the back of my throat, hard. I gag, he pulls out, makes me spit in his hand, pushes my mouth open even wider and pushes into me again. And again and again. Until the spit is spilling out of my mouth, his precum dripping down my chin every time he pulls out. I pull back my hair. Take him deeper every time. Stretching my mouth with his cock, fucking my throat. I can feel how close he is. His breath changes, and I’m desperate for his cum. He pulls my hair back, snapping my head away from his cock. 

Stop…on the bed, on all fours, forearms flush with the bed.

I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand, tasting his saltiness, wipe the mascara from my eyes, shift my weight up onto the bed. My arms down, my ass up. My wet cunt now on full display, the tops of my stockings now soaking wet. He moves behind me, unhooks my stockings, rolls them down, one at a time. Unhooks my suspender belt, so I am fully naked but for my collar and the gold chain harness. 

Arms behind your back… head down…  

I do as I am told. He ties my hands together with the stockings, tight. My face is flush with the bed, prone.  

He loops the belt out of his trousers and snaps it hard against my pussy. I cry out. My threshold is much higher now. He snaps it again, on each cheek, and I whimper, i’ts still so tender from the twenty five. I brace myself for another snap, only to feel him thread it around my neck. Almost like a leash. Trust me baby… and I do. He pulls it, I gasp. And his cock plunges into my cunt. Hard and deep as it can go. Daddddyyyy fuuuuck, I groan. I have needed this for weeks. To feel his hardness, filling me up, taking all of me, pushing me. That’s my perfect little whore… He pulls on the belt, on the stockings holding me tied, and fucks me harder. Deeper. The wetness dripping down my thighs. 

Wetter cunt baby… good, good girl.

He can tell I am about to cum, my legs start to shake. 

Not yet... and you need to ask. Remember that baby

I sob. Weeping with the need of it. He pulls out. No .. Daddy.. please… I am begging now. Any kind of dignity dissolving. I need you to fill me up Daddy.. pleeease…  And so he does, pushing his cock into my ass. In one deft move, as deep as he can go. 

I am going to cum in your ass baby, and you’re going to take it as hard as I can give it 

My whole body shakes as he pounds into me, again and again and again. His sweat drips onto my back, and he finally starts to let go. His teeth biting into my shoulders, his hands tugging at my hair, ribbons pulled free, the belt leaving burns on my neck, his fingers bruising my hip bones, grabbing my collarbones, pulling my body harder onto his, my ass taking his cock deeper and deeper every time he thrusts.  

You are mine…every inch of you. Every hole… Only mine. Just mine, he growls into my ear

Only yours Daddy… 

When he cums, he pulls my hips up onto his cock, our skin slick with sweat, and my juices, emptying from inside of me. He holds me still. My head, prone. My hands behind my back. My cunt and my ass on display. He finishes his final thrust. Pulls out. Pulls me up by the belt. Makes me stand, and then bend over the dresser where we began.

Spread your legs…

I do. Feel his cum drip out of me, down my legs. 

Perfect. That’s my perfect baby girl. Now fix your make up, so I can ruin it again. 

And I do.