You’re bathed, fresh and clean, black panties, black bra. You walk to me with your collar and sink to your knees, collar upraised. I take it from your hand, like a runner’s baton. It’s my time now. I lean over and put your collar around your neck, just one notch tighter than normal. I then grab the hair on the back of your head and push your mouth over my cock. Your lips mash against me, as you’ve been caught off guard. Then your mouth opens and you take me in. I immediately start fucking you deep in your throat. You haven’t regained your composure yet, and drool is running off my cock, as I pump your head up and down.

I know you’re only doing this because I want it, not because you’re feeling submissive, or even sexual. I’m being rougher, more dominant. I’m not taking care of my girl, I’m making you take care of me. I push against your mouth hard, stifling your breathing, and inching down your throat another 1/2 inch. I hold you there, with my cock deeper than your teeth, and then I release you. Being a good girl, who really is submissive, you simply suck me in a gentler, sweeter manner. You’re on the fence. You don’t enjoy being treated this way by me (by me), but your body is undeniably aroused.

“You’re not my little girl tonight, Catalina.”
“I’m trying to, Daddy,” you say, eyes looking up at me (you’re on your knees, remember) with concern (and yes, a little annoyance).

“I just am having trouble letting go.”

I slap your cheek, making your eyes flash (fear, anger, and… submission) and say, “Hush! You are not my little girl tonight. You’re too far gone to be. No, I need to reach you and bring you back where you belong. A loving pat on the head guides your mouth to my balls.

“I want to be your little girl, Daddy. I do.” Your tone is sweeter, there is sincerity now. You’re starting to want it. You’re remembering how I make you feel, and how you need me, deep in your being, not only to adore, but to correct you.

The loving touch turns fierce as I yank your hair hard, and pull your head back so you’re looking up at me.

“You’re my whore now. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“You’re my whore. You do what you’re told (slap, slap, slap across your face) and maybe I’ll let you be my little girl. But you sure as hell are not now.”
(whispered) “Yes, Daddy. Anything you say, Daddy.”
“Tell me you’re a whore.”
“I’m a whore. I’m your whore.”

I pull you up by your hair, but I help you stand. Once you’re standing I start pinching and pulling your nipples. This isn’t how I touch you. It’s an entirely different touch. Rough, hard, even a bit cruel. The Daddy you know so well is so remote, your body is reacting like it’s a new lover.

“You’re my whore?”
“Yes… Daddy,” you say, wondering if Daddy is even right.

Everything feels different. You’re a bit anxious, off balance. I’m being really rough with you. But you’re trying to be a good girl.

“Don’t call me Daddy again until I give you permission. Understand, whore?”
“Yes… Sir.”

I toss you onto the bed, face up. I put the blindfold on, and spread your legs.

Tags: BDSM, Collars, D/s, Marky D. Sade, Mr. and Mrs. Kink //