He’s nestled as deep inside of me as he can be, my legs spread wide, his arms to either side of my head, our faces inches apart, the eye contact intense and unwavering.
“I own this pussy, you know that right?”
“Yes, daddy,” my voice wavers.
“Repeat after me… This is my pussy.”
“This is your pussy.”
“You’re my little fuck toy.”
“I’m your little fuck toy.”
“You’re my pleasure.”
“I’m your pleasure.”
“And all your holes belong to me.”
“All my holes belong to you.”
He fucks me, slow, heavy, hard, deep. I feel every single, little twitch of him inside of me.
He wants me to speak, and I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.
“Baby… my dick is so deep in you… you could tell me anything right now.”
“I know, Daddy, I know.”
“So why can’t you talk to me?”
“I don’t know, Daddy.”
“You do know.”
His strokes become faster… feel deeper… if it is even possible.
“Come on, baby… you can tell me anything while I fuck you, can’t you?”
“Yea, Daddy… I can tell you anything… anything…”
“There isn’t a thing you need to hold back… even if it makes you feel stupid, even if it makes you feel embarrassed… you can tell me anything…” his voice belies his loss of control.
Something inside of me cracks and hot, stinging tears cloud my vision and roll down my cheeks. This moment is so intense, that I cannot respond otherwise. I say so often that he leaves me undone and speechless, but this… this ruins me in one million little ways. The knowledge that he owns every bit of me, that I am laid bare before him, like this. That he would have my most private thoughts, my secret desires, that he knows those are his too—in this single moment, I feel more submissive than I have ever felt.
There is something building, stretching, too big and growing, inside of me. I can feel it just behind my cervix, I’m going to come and I tell him. I can’t stop. I can’t stop it. He gives me permission and my squeezing, gripping cunt, my cries of joy and pleasure, my tears, they make him cum too. He fills my body with his seed and it’s just… just what I need… to be full of him, for him to mark me like this, in this moment.
“Before you come down,” he whispers in my ear. “I want to tell you what a good girl you are… that I’m proud of you, and so pleased with you. But you’re still going to get a bit of a “bad girl” spanking later… not because you’re bad… but because you need some discipline I think… you need to learn to take listen a little better I think. I’m not disappointed at all, this will be purely disciplinary, you don’t need to feel bad–you know the difference don’t you?”
I nod and nestle in closer to him.
“I know you do, because you’re my clever little girl, aren’t you?”