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She kisses my neck, and I’m more than aware she’s getting a little too familiar, a little too comfortable with this setup. She’s crossing all the boundaries.
There’s a part of me that likes it. The fact I can turn and punish her for crossing lines. Or reward her if she deserves it.
“I was going to take you to dinner, but maybe you should be dinner.” I pluck her off me and dump her on the bed. “Dessert, too. My dessert, your punishment. So…”
I stand up and stare at her sprawled on the bed. I’m wearing a suit, so I strip off the tie and the jacket, unbutton the shirt, and roll the sleeves. Her hungry gaze follows each move I make.
“Tongue back in mouth, baby girl,” I say, giving her my most lascivious grin, the one she’s going to learn will lead to both pleasure and the most intense frustration imaginable.
She likes a little pain, likes a little edging. She fucking can’t stand the frustration of me completely denying her orgasms, though.
Dakota still breaks that rule, but every now and then my punishment is pure frustration in absolute denial of orgasms. I’ll fuck her and get off, then I’ll stop when she’s close and come instead of her.
Because when I do give her that coveted orgasm, it’s spectacular.
“Take off your clothes,” I say, undoing my pants and pulling out my hard dick. I run my hand up and down my shaft, watching her watch me. “Take them off and sit in that armchair.”
She crosses the room, a bounce to her step. I’m going to kill that bounce and reward her later. Much later. It’s cruel and it’s fun and she gets off on it in the end.
The end being the crucial part here.
I tie her to the chair, her legs parted, arms tied behind her back. She’s completely at my mercy. I pace in front of her, working my cock as I decide on my next move. The air stretches taut and Dakota makes tiny, whimpering sounds. She bites her lower lip, eyes focused on my hand.
“What do you want, baby girl?”
“I want to come, Daddy.”
That’s when I reach down to trail my fingers over her sensitive, glistening thighs because she’s already that wet. My fingers dance over her skin, making her sing in whimpers of need. I stroke her everywhere except where she wants.
Her cunt. Her clit. I veer close, then slide up and do the same with her tits, her nipples so fucking hard and neglected. Then my fingers navigate lower again.
I like touching her over using toys, though I’m thinking she needs some. Just from me. Like a remote-controlled G-spot and clit vibrator that fits inside her. I’d be able to control it with my phone and use it from wherever I choose.
I fantasize about that. A lot. Her Master, her Daddy, with her at all times. No matter where she is. One touch of the app on my phone and she’s singing a different song.
Her skin is velvet soft, silky smooth. She’s warm, alive, and I fucking love being about to control her with a word and a touch. Skin on skin.
My balls ache as I think about what to do to her. That pussy is a blossoming flower with her in this position. I slide my fingers deep into her slick layers where I want to feast and dive into.
Mark as mine.
If I had a Sharpie, I’d write on her. A tattoo would be ideal, but that’s too permanent, and this is anything but.
Besides, she’s so perfect and pristine that I don’t want anything permanent to mark her.
There’s something hot in having to reclaim her as mine, remark her as mine, whenever I can. Whether it’s fucking her or biting into her or coming all over her, it’s erotic as hell.
And that’s what I’m going to do.
I’m not going to touch her clit or cunt or tits or ass. Maybe her mouth, maybe I’ll make her suck me, but the rest? No. I’m just going to come on her and make her wear it under her clothes.
“D-Daddy, please.”
“Bad girls don’t get presents. They get used. Abused. Punished. Owned.”
I go behind her and kick the chair back so it’s on two legs and her head is at the perfect height.
“Tilt your head and open up. I’ll think about letting you come.”
