Daddy

"You won't tell Mummy, will you?", he says, heavy on top of me. 

"Why Daddy?' I ask. My eyes and my pussy wide open.

"Mummy would not like it darling. She'd be jealous."

"I won't tell Daddy, I promise. Will you buy me a Barbie?"

"Yes, of course I will. I will do anything for my little girl"

Straight fucking

No games. No agenda. Just a full connection old-fashioned fucking. Kissing. Tongues playing, saliva dripping kisses, greedy, needy. My top is off, then you struggling with the bra clips. Off with that as I collapse with the full softness of breasts and hard nipples on you. You have me writhe on your hard cock, holding my back and you lower yourself down to suck the hard rosebuds of my nipples.

I struggle and it's such a hard work with me being smooth, muscular lithe thing in your arms. It's like submitting a wily little pony.

"Bedroom' I order.

I shed my clothes in a neat little pool in your living room. I saunter off up the stairs in my knickers. You stay there for a moment looking up. 

"Wow" you say with a child-like excitement.

I turn around and simply say "I know"

When you get me in the bedroom I know I am  no longer in charge of our little encounter. You are. You wrestle me down, get my arched back up just as you want it, my arse all but offered to you. You part my pussy lips, swollen and wet.

"Please", I say. "Please"

The Epiphany 2 of 4

It's the morning after.

He pounds me punishingly with his cock. That is the only way to describe it. Relentless pounding.

'That's the first fuck of the day', I say with the memory of the 12 fucks that preceded this one.

'Correct', he replies in a matter of fact way.

I am tired and fucked out. My entire raison d'être in the last 24 hours has been to be his fuck toy. It's new to me.

He has broken me with the spanking and just relentless fucking. I had an epiphany (details here) and I want him to go so I can enjoy it on my own.

But he doesn't go. He just sits there in my bed, dark stocky and solid, checking his messages on his iPhone.

I have a shower and come out of the bathroom in a towel. I carefully avoid eye-contact. I catch my iPhone on the table. Seven missed calls and God knows how many messages. I have disappeared for 24 hours and the world is not happy.

"Sooo...", I start the 'get the fuck out of my house' conversation.

"Yes", he is still typing without looking at me.

"Sooo", I start again

"We are going back to mine. Then we are going for a long walk, then I am going to fuck you again. Get your shortest dress and your high heels"

I stand there in the middle of the room thinking 'How fucking dare you?" As my resentment bubbles up he looks up at me again. Just checking.

"Okay", I say meekly and go to my walk in wardrobe to look for the specified garments.

I gather my slutty Miu Miu dress and a pair of Gina stillies and drop them into a Tate Modern shopping bag that's just sitting there.

I turn round again, thinking, "Why the fuck am I doing all this?"

Another alarming thought. 'What the fuck is his name?"

I look at him and I am blank. This man fucked me for 24 hours and his name is as elusive as my emotions.

We walk out into a cold January day, sunny and crisp. He makes me take the bus as well. The conversation is awful. He likes photography and I am an arts geek.

"What's your favourite photographer"

"I don't have one"

"Henri Cartier-Bresson is my favourite", I offer.

"I see a picture, I like it"

That's it. I begin to dislike him for his inability to engage. I am so socially skilled that in tests I come out as a functioning psychopath. I don't like people not connecting with me.

The bus comes. I put my RayBans on and fall asleep on his shoulder.

He wakes me up in Battersea. I hate Battersea.

His flat is a man's flat. Minimal, tidy but messy.

'I am going to take a shower' he announces.

As I hear the boiler kick into action I get off the sofa I was lounging on and dart around. Bills, letters, anything. "What the fuck is his name?!"

I spot a neat row of Christmas cards on the shelf. I grab the first one. And in a mirrored, naive child writing here it goes "Dear Uncle Jeremy"

Relief.

When he comes back into the room wearing his bathrobe and asks me for my breakfast preferences I smile comfortably.

"It's okay Jez. I will have whatever. Toast with Marmite will do"

Such a small word. So much fun dealing with the consequences.

Yes Sir

I am wearing a schoolgirl outfit. I just got spanked for being in charge of the possy of the trouble makers.

"Did you smoke behind the bike sheds?'

'No, I didn't!"

"I heard about this trip where you sucked off the boys on the bus. Is that true?"

Pouty little lips, tugging at my skirt, my fingers playing with the school stockings I am wearing.

"No!"

"You did, didn't you? You little whore"

"No, Sir, I didn't I swea.."

My excuses are cut short by a swift physical turn. Grab by the hair, lift of the skirt.

Short, decisive spank.

"Ouch ouch ouch'

Another one. And several more in a swift succession.

My bottom is smarting and I am whimpering now.

"But I..."

"Did you or did you not suck off some of the boys?"

My little blonde head bows in submission. I get pushed on my knees.

"I will not tell anybody about this", he says in a considered way. "But you need to please me. Open your mouth"

A hard fragrant gorgeous cock hovers between my lips.

"Maybe", I mumble feverishly while he pulls up my skirt and fingers me.

"Maybe?', he asks me. 'MAYBE?! You are wet, you little slut'

I suppose I am. I suck greedily on his cock.

"Good girl"
 

Legs

I am massively proud of my legs. I have a pair of legs that stop traffic. Shapely and muscular. I get them after my Mum. You see, she at the age of 65 still gets wolf whistles at her legs. Mum... we had our differences but the legs, I can only blame you for that pair. That perfect muscular yet soft balance between calf and thigh as it emerges from the delightful peaks of my arse. God, I love these! Don't you?

Enojoy the Helmut Newton take on these...

The back

He strokes me tracing his fingers along my back. He loves my back.

I have a good back you see. Shapely, lithe, muscular. Not your willowy girl sort of back. It's a back that's been exercised and restrained enough times to know its place, and yet to rebel against it.

"Stay', he says, as if he were training a dog.

I balk. 

'I take it's a no", he says leisurely. He grabs my hair with one hand and applies the very much needed discipline with the other to my neck. I find my face mumbling into a pillow.

"Let me go you... fucking cunt!"

'Oh, she dropped the C-bomb", he muses while I am struggling, hissing, spitting like a cat you picked off the floor, claws out.

He smoothes me out, my legs trapped between his. 

"Pretty pussy', he says approvingly as he acknowledges my swollen, wetly bubbling submission with his fingers.

Restrained properly, I get the cock filling me up. The completeness of the experience surprises me. I give in as he quietly drives it in and out in a relentlessly calm way.

"How's my little tiger cub?"

I purr, stretching my whole being towards him.

One way to keep me quiet I suppose...

Owned

I don't wonder who they are. It doesn't matter. All I want at that point is to be taken. I am open, empty and wanting. 

The hands wander up further my inner thigh, I push my arse out even more and then stop just short of my pussy. I want him to go on and I open my legs even wider. I am waiting for that moment when he will slide his fingers inside me and nearly gasp in anticipation. But nothing happens. The hands disappear. I wait for a minute or two shivering like a trapped animal, excited and expectant in equal measure but the darkness becomes discomforting and I begin to notice the surface of the desk on my knees. 

It's hard and uncomfortable. My normal impatient and easily bored self is coming back. I get off the desk carefully, take my knickers out of my mouth and as I steady myself standing, I reach for the blindfold to take it off. Just as my fingers are about to touch my face I get a slap. It's not a harsh one  - more like a swift pat that you'd use on a dog being too insistent. I sway slightly but I am still standing. "Did I tell you to get off?", he says. "No, but..". I don't get to finish my sentence when another swift but harder slap lands on my face. I sway again but won't move now. I am now leaning against the desk holding to it. My skirt is still up. I feel exposed vulnerable and scared but I am not going to show it and I feel a wave of angry defiance flooding my head. "Fuck off", I say and move forward but he's there ready for me. 

He grabs me by by throat and says 'What did you say you little slut?'  I repeat it with full venom expecting a slap again but instead I feel his knee separating my legs and his fingers inside me. He pushes them in so hard it lifts me up. I gasp. 'Look what we found here' he says, 'You are all excited now, aren't you?' By now, the same hand that felt like a vice on my throat seconds before now seems as smooth as velvet glove. I arch my entire body towards him, I push my hips forward wanting him to penetrate me more. And he does. Then he moves fingers gently onto my clitoris and starts masturbating me. Slowly. Then quicker as I feel my clitoris swelling up. I am whimpering and DO NOT want him to stop, I am moving with him, hungrily because I can feel the wave of an intense orgasm coming and I can't wait for it. His hand is now on my mouth to keep me quiet and I am licking his fingers and biting them. All the while I can hear him talking to me gently 'Little slut wants to come now, doesn't she?" I nod my head head eagerly and he lets me come. And I come so hard I can feel my pussy squirting and contracting so much that it's almost painful. As much as I like to, I won't scream. I don't dare as somehow by now I know he wouldn't like it.  

And then lets go of me. I am too weak to stand so I fall on the floor and sit there, head down, spent, my body covered in sweat, my skirt up, my legs apart, my thighs wet, my pussy still delightfully spasming from the orgasm seconds ago, a shivering mess. I can hear the camera shutter click. "Get up, stand up straight, and put your hands behind your back", he says. Although I can hardly move, I pick myself off the floor and stand up.

Tender

He fucks me tenderly. Hand on my throat. The other restraining my hands. I move with him hungrily because I want to. Looking up into his eyes.

Take me

Please take me.

Just like that.

Bound

I am exhausted. Not easily done. The slut is pretty much always ready. But he fucked me so much that I am fucked out, tired, sore and sleepy.

'I have this over-whelming urge to fuck you again'

I am pretending to be asleep.

'Actually, I want to tie you. Stretch you. Hands and legs tied to the bed posts. You are ready. And then I leave, close the door, get myself a drink, read a paper for a bit. And then come back when you are begging to be fucked'

My ears prick up. My cunt is slowly flooded with wetness. I feel myself dripping onto my thighs.

So, I say nothing. I just sleepily move towards him, signifying willingness, offering myself. I choose not to open my eyes. He leisurely flips me over and restrains my legs between his, so I lay in front of him like a bound little mummy and then just drives his  cock into my cunt, his hard length melting into my bubbling and hot softness.

He fucks me. Hard. I start whimpering and he feeds me his fingers to keep me quiet. I suck on his thumb greedily while he fills me up and I explode in a shattering orgasm. 

He stops, and parts my legs. In one brutal stroke. I am now fully compliant. It's not like you can have a high moral ground with you arse in the air.

He keeps on fucking me in a desperate need and I want it so much, I whimper like a little bitch on heat. He withdraws just before coming and I can feel his cum splattering all over my back in hot droplets.

Brutal

I always dreamed about being fucked brutally. Being roughed up. I expressly asked MBH to do that.

But he would not.

I understand. He is emotionally connected to me and for all his dominant play he would not go as far as I wanted him to.

Don't get me wrong. He tried. I loved it. But his heart wasn't in it.

So... I met this guy online. Eager, younger than me, bright as fuck and funny with it. A sure way to madame's heart.

We chatted for a while online. He is a cocky fucker. But I could tell that he was oscillating between an unbridled desire for me, being in awe of me and just wanting to dominate me. Good combination.  I was in control and yet, I was looking forward to giving the control to him.

We met in a hotel of my choice. He was late. I was ready. I wore a beautiful see-through but stunningly classy dress. AP bra, AP stockings, heels, and no knickers. By the time we were half way through our drinks and I could see his eyes racing up and down of me I was done.

Shall we? I just said.

In the lift, I turned my face against the wall. He stood behind me. He reached between my legs and pushed his fingers inside me. I was dripping wet. We walked out the lift and he stopped me for a second and put his fingers into my mouth. I could taste myself on his fingers and gasped. We walked into the room. I walked over towards the bed and just stood there. He was behind me. Hard as rock, his heavy pulsating cock behind me. I swayed my hips to brush against it and then obediently placed my elbows on the bed, my arse high in the air. And he started spanking me. Hard. Very hard. It hurt and every stroke made my cunt wetter and wetter. By the end of it I was dripping, my thighs wet and expecting.

I reached out to kiss him. And then I had a brutal awakening. His hand grabbing my hair and pulling my hair back. Ouch ouch. Ouch, fuck you you, I hissed.  A knee separating my legs. Fuck you, I hissed again, my legs opening again with the force of his knee and me teasingly and aggressively swaying against him.

"Come on.Go on. Don't fuck me", I sad with all the insolence of a fuck toy. No response.

I turned over on the bed, and kicked him. Hard. His hands locked around my ankles pulling me down. I felt him collapse on top of me. There was a fury rising in me. As I pummeled him with my hands, then reached out to bite and I succeeded, drawing a dark bruise on his arm. As my teeth were reeling from the satisfactory grab, I got a hard slap on the face.

And then another slap. Hard. My jaw pulsated with acute pain.

'Bitch!'

I laughed manically.

It disconcerted him. I liked it.

We ended up fucking like animals. Bruising, pulling hair, him resisting me and me just kicking off at a merest provocation.

Funnily enough, we came together, shaking and shivering like a pair of dogs on heat. It almost never happened to me before. Like all the aggression and violence culminated in one explosion.

The day after, I was stiff and bruised. My nipples hurt and my thighs bore his teeth marks.

I don't want to see him again. That one time was enough.

Please

So, thinking about it... I am lying there, my body arching, covered in a mist of sweat, as you slide your fingers inside me, I am like a little limpet, holding onto you, all feeble and just relying on you to pleasure me, expecting a reward. I now want you to make me come. You see me just writhing, my whole body pushing onto your hand, my big blue eyes looking at you pleadingly "Please make me come. Please will you make me come?". As you feel my cunt tightening around your fingers in the intense pleasure you are meting out to me, your other hand stroking my breasts, soft and smooth with only the rosebud hard nipples, which you lick and suck as they are swelling in your mouth and you feel me come again, squirting out so lo and behold... Your cock is rock hard  and all you can do is to take your little fuck toy  as I lie there exhausted and helpless... But instead... you spank the little demanding slut as I gasp because I know the punishment was long coming for being so willing and wanton. As the first flash of pain hits my bottom, I push onto your hand again, dripping all over your fingers with every stroke. "Please, I will be good now" I plead, turning my little blonde head, eyes full of hurt surprise demanding mercy, but you know the little slut will not behave as I am still  greedily thrusting myself onto your hand. So... your hand falls on my bottom again and again. Unforgiving and firm. By the time I am fully compliant, you slide your cock inside me and have me, I inhale deeply as my tight hot cunt envelopes your pulsating cock in a tight greedy grasp and I push my  pert bottom towards you so obediently you would never believe that your little slut could ever misbehave again, as you push me down, looking down at my strong back resisting you, smooth and muscular, pushing onto your cock. It feels so big inside me it hurts. It hurts so much as you drive it into me and I come almost instantly contracting and squirting all over your cock, shivering and you fuck my spasming cunt until you release in an an orgasm so long deep and intense, you finally and involuntarily collapse on top of me.

I want you to think about this a lot. I want you to masturbate thinking about it  every time you come, and as you are holding your cock glistening with pre cum about to come, imagine you are fucking my mouth and my cunt,  spilling into me.

The Epiphany 1 of 4

It was simple. It really was.

I went to a fetish club. My second time, with a good trusted friend. The sort that knows you really and is able to nudge you out of your comfort zone without you even knowing. I walked in, tall, proud, in a skin-tight body suit with a sheer panel at the front, showing off my breasts, stockings, and thigh-high boots. I was playful and inviting yet choosy. I had no idea what I was looking for, but I was sure as hell I was looking for something. There was something stirring in me. I was perusing the crowd and the men were mesmerised as I was passing by. My Scot was watching me and guarding me closely. Several approached. While I am easily engaged and enticed, The Scot was giving them a brush off. 'Not good enough' he pronounced. I trusted him. I was still searching.

He was stocky, heavy and dark. Not my type at all. But that was not the reason why I chose him out of the crowd. That became clear later. Our eyes met over the bar and I smiled, to be then distracted by an offer of a drink. As the shot of Tequila hit my mouth, I looked again. He was gone.

I put the glass down and just walked through the crowd. There he was. His broad shoulders right in front of me. I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and beamed. He was very happy to see me.* The Scot smiled approvingly at last, and then obligingly disappeared.

The in-between was inconsequential. I was in my usual mode of a princess who bestowed her grace on a potential favourite. We had a drink, chatted a bit. I talked a lot, dispensed amusing one-liners and ordered him around. A bit of banter.

'I am a bit of a leg man'
I smiled smugly.
'I have a surprise for you then. I have outstanding legs'
'Good'

And then I ordered him to mine. He followed. We bumped into The Scot, queuing to the couple's room for his own bit of fun. He checked if I was okay, in a very fatherly fashion, then gave a stern look and a quiet word to my prey. We were free to go.

When we got to mine, we talked a little. Getting to know each other. Not hard. My flat is all about me, full of pictures, books and mementos. A reflection of me in a very small space. If you look hard enough, you will know who I am.

I was a little manic still. I radiate energy on a quiet day and coming straight from a buzzing club had me restless. I stripped to my body suit, put on a pair of stilettos and twirled.

'You do have very good legs' he smiled.
'I know'
'And a very good arse' (That I didn't know - always hated my arse)

Then we went to bed. If I am honest, I don't remember the first couple of time we fucked. We simply did because that was the point of it all. I still didn't know why I wanted him to fuck me. He was not my type. Dark, quiet, stocky with shaved head. I like slim, eloquent, very tall and foppish. Yet, I played along. I was sensual, playful and responsive but ever so slightly detached. I liked him fucking me in a way that one likes having a good dinner, or watching a pleasant movie. I haven't fucked for a while so it just did the trick. He was heavy on top of me, always missionary, not very adventurous. Thick cock with just the right length and pulsating girth. His cock was like him. Heavy, relentless and just pounding me.

'You are very sexual. I like how you respond to me'. That was the second and last complement that night.

We chatted a bit more. I was dominant, overly-intellectual, and a tad dismissive because he just wasn't fast enough to keep up with my manic energy. He was almost incongruous, impassive. Not reacting much to me at all. I was getting bored. My mind kept wandering off, as if questioning him being in my bed in the first place.

We were lying next to each other spooning after fucking leisurely for the third time. I was detached, staring at the wall, away with my thoughts. He kept fingering me deeply, and I was writhing obligingly, connecting only with the physicality of it, impaling myself on his fingers and raising my bottom. And that's when it happened. He pulled out his fingers and spanked me.

What the fuck..? Before I had the chance to finish verbalising that thought in my head, he spanked me again. And again. The rush was immense. I cannot describe it because epiphanies are famously hard to put into adequate words.

'You like it, don't you?' His tone was no longer impassive. It was a voice of someone who found the light switch in a dark room and and he now knew exactly where he was, being very pleased with himself for doing so.

I said nothing. I just raised my bottom again and felt his palms falling on it in a sharp stroke. And another. Then he stopped. I was quiet. Just shivering like a trapped animal. No more thoughts racing through my head. No longer detached. Very connected, suddenly very conscious. He slid his fingers inside me and I felt myself dripping out onto his hand, hot and bubbling, in a stream of fresh, thick juice.

He simply turned me over and fucked me. This time it was different. He was at last in his element. He went darker, no longer indulging any of my casual insolence. I was a limpet, wrapped around him obediently. He was brutal, impenetrable, and finally started talking.

'Filthy little slut'

And that was a beginning of a very long affair.

Being spanked the first time is like the first kiss. You never forget it.


*He later told me he came up to me at the bar but I was surrounded by men and he wasn't sure whether it was right to approach me. Thank fuck I knew he was the right one.

I cried today

At everything.

I really need to go now

"It was a lovely evening. I liked talking to you" he says.

"Yes... and, let's fuck again at some point", I say glibly, picking up my scarf and coat and doing them up with my back to him.

I feel a hand on my arm turning me around, his lips on mine. "Some point" is seemingly is now.

My scarf, half tied, lands on the floor, the first casualty of the all encompassing need. My half hardheartedly done up jacket is next. As is the rest of my attire. It's hard to rip off skin-tight clothes off me because I am so leanly clad into them. The nearby chair is so convenient for me to reach for comfort as he pushes his hand in the small of my back demanding immediate submission. I defiantly snarl insults as I try to bolt. 

No point.

He is so much stronger. Annoying.

I strain and struggle like a live wire in his arms. I hiss at him with venom, as he wrestles me onto the sofa. My arms, so ready to lash out, disabled in a lock. 

I give in when he slides his fingers into me. And the natural slut comes out.

'Three fingers please', I say with newly found politeness.

And he does oblige.

Happy at last as he finger fucks me to an orgasm.

As I drape myself dripping over his hand, I rest contentedly but only for a moment.

He fucks me, his cock filling me to the brim as I wrap around him, hungrily moving with him.

'Deeper', I beg, opening my legs wider.

And I come again, willing and participating in our little deceit.

What's the point of the resistance?

The slut is happy at last.