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BDSM

First Punishment

For a moment, when I got back, I thought you had actually forgotten. You were there to satisfy me at the door, kissed my cheek, and assisted me with my bags. I ‘d been away for a couple of days and though we had spoken every day, at length, I ‘d missed you awfully and couldn’t wait to feel your lips, your skin, and your touch.

While I was away we had actually spoken about something that the 2 people desired extremely much; something that you expected of me; something that I desired to offer you. You talked me through why it was crucial for my training, how much it would please you and what does it cost? you understood it would harm me yet you believed I would enjoy it very much.

I dropped my things at the doorway and wrapped my arms around your neck for a huge hug, I believed you had forgotten our discussion, a minimum of for the time being. You kissed me deeply and informed me how much you had missed me while I was away. Finally we let go of each other and I wandered into the cooking area to put some wine.

I was still worn my work clothes, a match, although I had eliminated my jacket on the aircraft and had actually begun my shoes at the door as quickly as I was home. I put some wine and relied on ask if you would like some also. I saw the modification in your eyes and looked down to the bench where the collar sat, shining and strong, an indication of our collaboration, my submission.

Instantly I sat my glass on the bench and went to kneel at your feet, head bowed and eyes cast down. Your fingertips brushed the hair from my neck and I felt the cool clasp of the collar versus my skin. Your finger moved between the collar and my neck, testing the fit. And I could not help however moan when I felt your lips gently kiss the fragile skin next to the collar.

We remained like that for a minute, your hand rubbing my hair, gentle kisses peppering my neck however all the while, your finger pulling gently at the collar, reminding me of its presence.

After a while, you took my hand and assisted me to stand. My eyes satisfied yours and you leaned into kiss me softly on the mouth. Your tongue played gently over my lips. I was mesmerised, unable to move or speak, just to feel. Already I was beginning to escape, to that place, where you always take me.

I followed you calmly into our bed room. I stalled as you eliminated my clothing, all of them, till I was standing, naked but for your collar around my neck. You were so close, I was taking in your fragrance, all clean and male and strong. You leaned in and kissed my neck and your fingers found my pubis and started to stroke, ever so carefully. I whimpered and pressed versus your hand but you simply pulled it back a little and kept up the light, gentle rhythm. Fingers barely touching, stroking insistently, making me crazy.

Just when I believed I would faint with desire, the stroking stopped. You whispered to me that you didn’t desire to make me too damp. That this was one of those rare occasions when having a wet pussy might really make things a little bit more unpleasant. And I knew then that you had actually not forgotten our conversation at all. That tonight I would provide myself to you in a way that I never ever had, not to you or to anyone.

You had me kneel on all fours, on the carpet in our room and told me to spread my thighs as wide as I could. I could feel your eyes on me, on my bare pussy, knew my bottom would be open likewise. You pushed my legs even further apart and cool air lapped at my pussy lips.

You backed up me for a long while, not saying anything. The room was still and quiet. I was waiting, shuddering, worried, ecstatic. I wanted so much to please you, to serve you. I heard it prior to I felt it. That sharp swooshing sound the whip makes as the tails cruise quickly through the air. And then I felt it! Oh did I feel it! One after the other, each of the nine leather tails snaked into my pussy, stinging and burning as you brought it up, under me, so hard.

I had thought you would a minimum of route them over me initially, to let me get used to the feel of the leather versus my lips. To tease me and make me plead to feel them. However no, my daddy anticipated his little woman to offer herself fully. To trust her daddy and understand that he would always do exactly what was best for her, exactly what would give them both the most pleasure.

All was still again and I knew absolutely nothing other than the burning, stinging feeling across my pussy and simply at the edge of my inner thighs. Only then did you trail the whip throughout my flesh and let me feel the cool leather against my skin. You traced a line with it, in between my lips, along my slit. Teasing and touching. My back began to arch and I pushed my mound out more for you, wanting, pleading.

Once again! You brought the whip up harder this time. It made me weep out. And prior to I might capture my breath– Again! And Again! Over and over you whipped my pussy. The little leather tongues like needles, piercing me. Periodically one would fall right on my little clit, causing me to shriek and ask. As my pussy became wetter I understood why you had actually wanted to start with it dry. As the leather became damp, its sting was magnified and I felt as though I would never ever have the ability to stand it. Tears were pouring down my face, I was sobbing and crying, wanting to please you however unsure I might take this any longer.

Then it happened. The sharp, piercing pain began to fade, just a little, and the whip strokes began to feel more like waves, rolling over me. My pussy lips opened totally and the strokes were now falling square on my slit, my clit, over and over. My hips began to rock, backward and forward, and I was pressing back to fulfill each stroke.

Out of control, I understood I was going to cum, cum as you whipped my pussy. I was so proud that I was serving my daddy, pleasing him, hurting for him. My breasts swelled and I knew that at any moment, my pussy would pulse and spurt, simply for him.

I threw my head back, hair streaming and shrieked and shouted and shouted as my orgasm overtook me. Back arching, body spasming, cumming and cumming and cumming for my daddy.

All went dark for a moment. Then, I felt your hand, cupping my hot, red, swollen pussy. I felt your tongue snaking over it, kissing the soreness. So tender I practically cried once again. And I knew without you telling me that I had pleased you, that I was the perfect little slut lady for you. My daddy, my love.

 

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