“Do you like sending Daddy dirty messages about sitting on his cock?” Daddy asked, as he rifling through the closet. I looked up briefly from the computer, feeling embarrassed. I’m not sure why I sent him that message earlier that day and he hadn’t said anything about it, so I had assumed he didn’t care or had forgotten.
I shut my laptop and just looked at Daddy; he sat down in a chair and pointed at the floor by his feet, so I crawled out of the bed and down next to him.
“Well? Do you?” He asked again. I buried my face in his leg and nodded.
“Take off your clothes,” he told me as he uncoiled a length of jute. I removed my clothes and folded them neatly. As I went to sit back down, Daddy stopped me.
“No, stand up and turn around.” He grabbed each wrist and brought them behind my back. He worked slowly, applying jute to my body.
“Proper girls don’t send messages like that,” Daddy commented as he worked. I watched the ends of the rope as he worked around my body.
“You didn’t like it?” I asked nervously. Maybe it was stupid of me to send a text like that.
“I’m a dirty old man, of course I liked it. You want to act like a dirty little girl? Then I’ll treat you like a dirty little girl.” He finished up the tie then pulled me down onto my knees; his cock was already out. I automatically opened my mouth, expecting him to fill my face, but instead he sat back down in the chair. Daddy reached behind him and produced a plastic bag and a roll of duct tape. I shifted apprehensively. Daddy noticed immediately, he always notices the small details.
“Are you scared?” He asked.
“No…” He had to know I was lying.
“Well, you should be,” he replied. He pulled me closer: I thought it was to hug me and comfort me. No, he pulled my hair into a tight pony tail and told me not to kiss him.
“Start breathing slowly….in…and out.” I did as I was told. I stared at his mouth the entire time, I’m not sure why, but focusing on his lips helped calm me. On an inhale, Daddy brought the bag around my head and secured it shut with the duct tape around my neck.
Don’t freak out, don’t panic, I told myself. Just don’t freak out, don’t panic. I tried to keep my breathing as even as possible, but it was getting difficult. I could feel more and more tape being wrapped around my neck, the plastic bag being drawn closer to my face with every breathe. I heard him say something muffled, but I couldn’t make out any clear words.
I felt his hands between my legs, spreading them apart. Daddy’s fingers brushed against my clit and I gasped. Bad idea. The bag constricted around me and that original sense of urgency and panic hit me again. Don’t freak out, don’t be scared I kept telling myself, but it was impossible to get my breathing back under control. His fingers grazed my clit and I freaked out again. The bag around my face started to get warm and that’s when fear really began to sink in. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.
As if he could sense exactly what I was thinking, Daddy cut a small hole in the bag and I inhaled the cool air deeply. I tried to take long, even breaths of air, but I could feel Daddy wrapping the rest of the bag down tightly around my head. I couldn’t see out of the bag before this, but now I was in the complete dark and I couldn’t hear anything any longer, just Daddy’s muffled voice.
I never realized how much I relied on sight and sound or how much I took it for granted. Now I no longer had control of that or control of my balance. All I could do was sit there and wait for Daddy to move me.
I felt hand wrapped around my head and pull me in closer. Daddy shoved his cock in my mouth with a bit of difficulty; the bag didn’t allow me to open my mouth as wide as I normally would. The sensation of my mouth being constricted and full was incredibly disorienting and for a moment, I didn’t know what to do.
Fortunately, Daddy knew exactly what he wanted. He grabbed the back of my head and forced his hard cock down my throat. Every stroke felt like I was choking, but the duct tape around my neck made it feel impossible for me to gag.
I heard muffled yelling, followed by Daddy abruptly pulling his cock from my mouth. Roughly, Daddy pulled me up by my harness and walked me until we reached a wall. He shoved my head against it and I heard more muffled yelling. He spread my legs and I felt something cold and wet against my asshole: lube. I tried to relax and convince myself that Daddy must love me if he was using lube. He never uses lube.
The feel of his fingers was quickly replaced by something rounder, colder, metal.
The anal hook.
Once it was in, I realized I was trapped against the wall - Daddy had managed to tie the hook off to a high point somewhere above where I was standing. Any direction I took a step caused intense pressure and pain due to the hook. Daddy had taken away all of my voluntary movement.
I felt him grab my head again and forced something in my mouth. An O ring gag. Drool began to pool up in my mouth and breathing was even harder than it was before.
That’s when he started single-tailing me.
The stinging sensation of the whip against my back, my ass and my legs made me want to move, but the ass hook didn’t allow for it. So I just stood there and took it, drooling all over the floor, hoping it would end soon.
The lack of movement must have been boring because Daddy then began to single tail my feet and ankles. I’m not so sure why, but that sensation hurts me the most and I couldn’t help but move. Each movement shifted the anal hook and I wanted to cry, but the taped bag around my face prevented it.
More muffled yelling. He ripped the gag out of mouth and dropped me to my knees, so I guess he had untied the hook from the hard point, but it was still buried deep inside me. He shoved his cock back in my mouth and I tried to suck him wildly, but it still wasn’t enough to make him cum.
He threw me back against the wall and tied the hook back up. This time he made sure that I was standing on my toes rather than flat on my feet. The gag was forced into my mouth and I was single tailed again. Daddy whipped me much harder the second time, every lash leaving a stinging sensation all over me.
When Daddy finally let me down, he pulled both the gag and the hook out. I’m almost positive it hurt, but I was too lost in my own head to even care anymore. All I wanted was him, to be able to see him, touch him.
He threw me on the bed and I could feel his body on top of mine, his hard cock pressed against my wet slit. More muffled words as he rubbed himself against me. Frustration began to well up inside me as I tried to grind against Daddy.
“Please, Daddy, please…” I’m not sure if I actually said it aloud or not, but Daddy gave me what I wanted.
He slid deep inside me and fucked me hard until we both were spent.
Black handcuffs, dulled with age and use, enveloped my small wrists. I watched as Daddy tightened them down and locked them into place. For a brief moment, I thought about protesting or asking why we weren’t using ropes. Instead, I just stayed silent and listened to the metal clacking.
“There’s something about genuine handcuffs, isn’t there?” He mused aloud. I looked up, about to respond, but instead stayed quiet. I relished the weight of cuffs, the feel of them. The unfamiliarity of it all excited me.
He meticulously bound my elbows back with a leather strap. I briefly wondered if Daddy could get my elbows to touch while I still had handcuffs on, but all those thoughts were quickly replaced with a wave of pain.
Punishment time had started.
Daddy’s fingers wove through my hair, balled them into a fist and pulled. Hard. He ripped me from the bed and threw me on the floor. Before I could recompose myself, Daddy pulled me by the hair again, into a sitting position. More leather straps came out and he wrapped them around my legs, frog tie style. Then he pushed my face back into the floor.
“Sloppy,” he murmured and he roughly readjusted me into a modified version of a kow-tow, my ass high in the air. The position already made my knees and forehead ache as I tried to support my weight and regain balance. I was vulnerable. Exposed. If I could blush, I would have. Instead, I turned my head away from Daddy and stared into my closet.
I heard him wrestle around in the closet: he then walked behind me and dropped several items behind me, the sound of wood banging against one another and hitting the carpeted floor.
This was the worst part. The waiting. It felt like an eternity had passed before Daddy even said anything.
“You know why you’re being punished?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, a hard thud landed straight across my ass. I gasped and shifted forward for balance, the rug burning my knees and hands.
“Thank you,” I mustered weakly.
Daddy caned me as he lectured: “This is…what happens…to girls…who don’t behave. You had…better be…sorry.” With each stinging slash, I thanked him. He suddenly stopped.
“It doesn’t sound like you’re very sorry. These ‘thank yous’ are weak. Pathetic,” he seethed. I heard him drop the first cane and pick up a second.
and a third. and a fourth. With each caning, more tears, more thank yous.
In between the canings, Daddy would slide a hand between my legs and touch me. I was soaking wet, embarrassingly so.
“You’re just a filthy little slut, aren’t you?” He whispered as his finger circled my clit. I didn’t want to believe him, I didn’t want to like this. Hot tears slid down my face as I continued to stare in the closet.
Not the correct response.
“If I ask you a question, you had better respond. and respond properly. It looks like you haven’t learned anything from this. Shame…looks like I’m going to have to start over.”
Normally, I’m a very good girl. I do what I’m told, I do it quickly and I do it well. I’m not so sure why Sunday was different, but I was in a particular mood.
I have a beagle, Cha Siu, whom I absolutely love, but he’s a bit spoiled. Whenever I tell him to do something, it’s like I can see the little tiny puppy cogs in his head rotate as he considers all his possibilities. and a majority of the time, I think he usually ends up picking the same solution: I’m not going to listen, what are YOU going to do about it?
That was the mood I was in. Many people call it being bratty. I call it being Cha Siu.
Daddy had told me earlier that day to get naked, grab all the canes and the single tail whip and bring it all into the living room. I went into my room, looked at all the toys and just sat there. and waited.
5 minutes passed. Daddy hadn’t come into the bed room at all. Instead, he sent me a text message.
Daddy :Ahem
I thought to apologize, I thought to tell him I would be in there in a minute, that I was just gathering stuff. Instead…
Me: Can I help you, sir?
Daddy: I told you to get naked and bring the single tail and canes into the living room. Instead, you’re on your computer.
I knew I was fucking up, but at this point, I started feeling brave. Might as well be Cha Siu all the way.
Me: I’m busy! Please try your request at a later time.
Within seconds, Daddy was in the bedroom, leaning against the entrance of the door frame, trapping me in the bedroom. I really fucked up, I thought to myself. If I just apologize now, maybe I can weasel my way out of being punished.
He didn’t say anything, just stood there for a long moment and looked at me. I refused to look at him.
I forget how fast and in shape Daddy is; within moments he was on top of me, pulling off my clothes. Fight or flight, fight or flight, my mind raced.
I chose fight. so I struggled, occasionally being able to get out of his grasp once or twice, but not far enough as to be able to run away. Daddy was just too strong. He pinned my arms above my head and pulled off my pants, my panties. He ripped my shirt off and removed my bra with ease.
Via a fistful of my hair, he dragged me into the living room, his other hand full of canes and a whip. The carpet burned my knees and my head stung, yet I was still feeling brave. Daddy threw me down in front of the fireplace in the living room.
“You know, the funny part is I just wanted to see if you would listen earlier. If you had, you wouldn’t have been punished. but now…” he shook his head and made a tsk-tsk noise. I continued to ignore him.
“Put your hands on top of the fireplace, spread your legs. I’m only going to tell you this once.” The usual patience in his voice was starting to waiver.
Cha Siu gloriously, the voice in my head told me. What is DADDY going to do about it? So I continued to ignore him.
This was what broke the camel’s back and before I knew it, Daddy was straddling me, caning my ribcage, legs, anything that was an open patch of bare flesh that he could strike. I wrestled with him for a minute, trying to get out from underneath him, trying to throw the cane as far as possible.
“You think you’re stronger than I am? You think you can get away with ANYTHING? Bad girls get punished. What kind of Daddy would I be if I didn’t correct your behavior?”
More struggling. More caning. Once he started caning my feet, I stopped struggling. I knew I had lost. The stinging bite of the cane on the bottom of my feet made my eyes burn and my body couldn’t find the energy to struggle any longer.
Daddy stood me up, placed my hands above the fireplace. He began single-tailing me. Hard.
“Are you going to apologize? Are you going to be good? This wouldn’t be happening to you if you listened, like a good girl. I don’t tolerate brattiness,” Daddy stated matter-of-factly as he single tailed me.
I don’t know what I was thinking, my body had long given up fighting, but my mind was still racing. So I started laughing uncontrollably.
Not the response Daddy wanted. He brought the whip down hard on my lower back. The burning sting stopped the laughter immediately.
“Yea, that’s what I thought,” Daddy murmured as he continued to rain down stinging blows on my lower back. I felt my knees buckled underneath me. My body desperately wanted me to just apologize, but my brain wouldn’t let me. You’re fine, I told myself repeatedly, you’re absolutely fine.
What I couldn’t handle was when Daddy started whipping the back if my knees. and my feet. Salty tears streamed down my face and I begged for him to stop. I promised him the stars, the moon, anything, everything he could have wanted if he just stopped.
but he didn’t. He didn’t stop until he was bored and sure that I had meant what I said. He wanted to make sure I learned something. He leaned over me, placed his hands on top of mine and whispered into my ear.
“Don’t forget that you belong to me. What you do or how you act is a reflection on me. Start behaving, like a good girl. Make Daddy happy.”
Als wir nach Hause kamen hat Daddy gesagt dass ich mir einen Disneyfilm aussuchen darf weil ich beim Arzt so lieb war. Also hab ich mir was süßes angezogen und brav auf dem Sofa gewartet während Daddy mir ein warmes Fläschen zubereitet hat. Als ich Daddy gefragt hab ob das süß genug ist, kam er nur zu mir rüber, hat mir mein Fläschen in dem Mund gesteckt, mir einen Kuss auf die Stirn gegeben und wir haben kuschelnd den Film geschaut.
—–
When we got home from the doctor, daddy said I could choose a disney movie to watch since I was such a good girl. So I put on some cute things while daddy made me a warm milk bottle. When I asked him if I’m cute enough, he just came over, put the bottle in my mouth and kissed my forhead as we sat watching the movie and cuddling.
I want daddy to eat me out while I’m sleepy…just softly moaning and whimpering while I slowly fall asleep with my legs still I’m his shoulders and his head between my thigh<3
Is it just me or does it annoy anyone else when someone literally reports your whole blog……like I don’t care if it’s just two or three posts but when it’s like your whole blog its like get your own posts…….I don’t wanna be mean tho
Give her little commands, like “Get my coat for me, sweetheart.” (Instead of thanking her, call her a “good girl” when she completes the task)
Contantly keep a hand on her shoulder/arm/hip/lower back, and guide her exactly where to walk
When you’re sitting at a table, put your hand on her thigh and slowly start to squeeze harder and harder - if she makes noise, pretend to be concerned and ask if her leg is cramping
Hold eye contact with her as you crack your knuckles, and suppliment with either a haughty smirk, or a clenched jaw and dead-eyed stare
