#karada

Three text messages, one right after another:

You are no longer allowed be late for me. This is a habit we are going to work on. I’m not mad, its my just my responsibilty as your owner to train you accordingly. Otherwise its a poor reflection on me.

I want you here by 4. On the dot. No later, understood?

Bring your [anal] plug. You have your choice between your harness or some ropes.

I did a bit of mental math: Class at 1 pm. Class ends at 2 pm. It takes approximately 20 minutes for me to get home. Another 20 minutes to take my puppy for a walk. Go for a run. Shower, pack and get out. The drive from here to there is a little less than an hour, give or take traffic.

By my calculations, I was already late and my mind started creating all sorts of punishments.

A little bit of rearranging and I managed to take care of the run, my puppy and the shower before class. and the entire time in class, I had to remind myself to focus on the lecture and not on what Daddy had planned for the evening. I got excited every time I looked down by my feet, knowing there were ropes and anal toys in my schoolbag and my fellow students had no idea. I shifted in my seat eagerly and hoped class would end early so I could see my Daddy soon.

***

I arrived there around 3 pm, way earlier than scheduled. Was early bad? Daddy didn’t say that I couldn’t be really early. I considered walking around for an hour
as to not bother him, but I missed him too much and I wanted to show up I was on time. Even better, that I was early for once.

Daddy was indeed very happy to see me early :) He smiled and wrapped his arms around me.

“Good girl, Daddy likes it when you listen,” he crooned as he kissed by forehead. He held my hand and led me into the lobby of the hotel next door. We walked down a flight of stairs and into a family bathroom. He locked the door.

“Take your clothes off,” he stated. He stood there, arms crossed and waited. I pulled off my dress and tights, folded them neatly, and stood there awkwardly.

“All of it.”

I stripped off the rest of my clothes. I had never been fully naked in a public bathroom before and, even though I knew the door was locked, I still felt warm. People had to have seen both of us go in, they were probably all thinking the same thing…

“Get on your knees.”

I did as I was told and as soon as I dropped to my knees, Daddy unzipped his pants and shoved his cock into my mouth. I instantly put my hands behind my back; I’m not allowed to use my hands. He grabbed fistfuls of my hair and fucked my face, hard. If I wore make-up, my tears and choking would have made me a mess.

“God, you’re so fucking dirty. Dirty bathroom slut.”

He continued to face fuck me me until my drool and tears where splattered all over the floor. He quickly stopped and pulled me into a standing position by my hair. He then produced one of the ropes from my schoolbag and placed it on my body, pulling it into a tight karada. Daddy had placed two knots in the crotch rope portion of the rope harness: one that sat directly on my clit, and one that rubbed against my asshole. He quickly dressed me again and told me to get my act together.

Every step I took rubbed every rope on my body in different directions. Some of it was painful. Some of it was like being pet or stroked lovingly. I walked a few steps behind Daddy, trying to get use to the sensations.

“What the hell are you doing? You look stupid, come along.” He grabbed me and pulled me out of the lobby and into the streets. The abruptness of the forced movements put extra pressure on my clit and ass and I moaned. It was hard to pay attention to where I was walking.

“You know everyone can tell how turned on you are. You’re such a dirty little slut. Every single person on this busy street in DC knows exactly what you’re thinking, it’s written all over your face,” Daddy chided me as he continued to drag me through Washington.

Where was he taking me? It didn’t matter. We walked several blocks, stopping occasionally to look at some clothes shops. We walked into China town. A weathered old Chinese woman greeted us.

“I’m looking for dresses. Short ones,” Daddy said to the lady. She nodded and led us to a back room. There were hundreds of beautiful Chinese silk dresses. He picked out a dark blue one with white embroidery. He asked if I could try it on, the old woman agreed and pointed me into a small bathroom. She tried to come in with me and I stopped her.

“No problem! I help!” She said and she pointed to the clasp buttons on the dress. I shook my head vehemently. If she came in she would have seen the karada. How do I even begin explaining it?

“No! It’s really okay! I know how to dress myself!” and I all but slammed the door in her face. I stood in the bathroom for a long minute, relieved that I just dodged a bullet. I could hear Daddy chuckling on the other side.

I came back out in the dress. Daddy smiled approvingly. The lady frowned.

“You still wear clothes under! No good! No good!” she ran her hands over my hips and I knew she could feel all the ropes I had on. Please don’t ask, please don’t ask I pleaded silently. Daddy smirked at me, thoroughly enjoying how embarrassed I looked. He told the woman he’d wanted this dress and he was ready to pay for it.

We left the shop shortly and continued our walk in DC. My whole body felt like it was on fire from embarrassment, pain and arousal. All I really wanted was to go home and let Daddy use me.

“You’ve been a good girl today. It makes Daddy happy. So let me reward you,” he said. He hailed a cab; I didn’t hear the location he told the cabbie to get us to. I was already too lost in my own head.

The entire ride there, Daddy tugged on strategic ropes that would wedge further or vibrate between my legs. I buried my head into the nape of his neck and moaned.

“You know, the cab driver can see what you’re doing, dirty girl,” Daddy reminded me. I closed my eyes and pulled him even closer.

It took about 20 minutes to arrive to wherever Daddy was taking me. and he toyed with me the entire way. I don’t really remember much of the ride, except that my clit was extraordinarily sore and that Daddy seemed really happy, which was all that really mattered to me.

“I owe this to you, anyways, but I decided that you may have as many as you like,” Daddy explained as he pulled me into a shop. It smelled of freshly baked goods.

“Aw, cupcakes. Thank you, Daddy, I love you.” I smiled up at him and he kissed my forehead again. He told me that I could order any 6 that I wanted and that I may eat them whenever I chose. He also ordered a glass of milk and we sat down at a table.

“This place is cute, isn’t it?” Daddy commented, “So wholesome and sweet. and here you are, the dirty slut you are, grinding on your karada.”