Authors Note: I listened to Portishead Glorybox on repeat while writing this song. Give it a listen while you’re reading, it really goes with the tone of the story.
Pink and grey marks flecked across peachy smooth skin, warm and tender to the touch. I pull my panties back up. A burning throb radiates up as they tighten between my legs. I press gently with my fingers knowing it will be a few days before I’ll be able to sit comfortably. I stare at the girl in the mirror. Pull my hair back…ouch…gently. Rub my scalp, sore. Pull out the oil that removes the left over sticky adhesive from my wrists. Wash my face and hands. Tug a T-shirt over my head. No bra for now, nipples too tender and sensitive. Look in the mirror again, smile on my face.
Walked into her apartment two days earlier. First time, first impression. Not bad, clean, furniture looks nice. I can tell a lot about a person by their home. I can tell even more in their bed. Didn’t waste any time, we both knew what I was there for. Bedroom door clicks closed behind me. Feel the heat of her body pressing closer. Breath catches in my throat. Unsure, not knowing what to do next. Her fingers trailing on my half bare thighs, then up to grab my hips, bulge from her pants against my ass. Oh god, I half melt. Hear her soft laugh behind me, murmur in my ear “Nice outfit, I always did have good taste. Looks like you follow instructions well.” “Thank you” “What?” Hand pinches my left nipple roughly. “Thank you Daddy.” “That’s better, now go sit on the bed like a good girl.” I’m changed, eager to please. “Be quiet now. Unbutton your sweater.” Shiny red buttons under my fingers, in a hurry to open the candy apple red cardigan I had been instructed to wear. The last button sticks, why won’t it open? I frantically tug. “Here, let Daddy help.” Her fingers nimbly separate the button from the few threads desperately hanging on. Her warm hands ease the sweater open, exposing my bare breasts and stomach. I look up into her eyes, a deep comforting brown, expecting my trust. I wonder if she understands the desire and uncertainty in my crystal blue gaze.
Feel her hands, again, opening my legs this time. Fingers teasing the edge of black lycra boyshorts. “Wait.” I sit patiently, run through with my good girl disposition. Daddy reappears, chair in hand. “Daddy wants to see you touch yourself, open your legs and pull your panties to the side.” I place my cool fingers on my warm pussy. Finding my clit, rubbing it, easy short strokes, short hairs tickling my fingers. “Look at me, don’t close your eyes.” Starting to feel hot, embarrassed and excited at being so exposed, at showing Daddy. “Does it turn you on? My watching you?” “Yes Daddy.” “You little show off, I should’ve taken you to a sex club, let a whole room of people watch you.” Breathing faster, clit swollen and slick under my fingers. “Do you want to come?” “Yes Daddy. Please can I?” “No” “Please?” “Take your hands away now. Stand up and bend over the side of the bed.”
Holding back my urge to argue, I climb down slowly. Bent over the bed I can hear her moving. “Bend over farther, all the way.” Stripe pattern of the comforter close to my face. “Little slut, wanting Daddy to show you off like that. Is that how a good girl should behave?” “I’m sorry Daddy.” I whisper. “No you’re not, but you will be.” I hear her rustling, my brain connecting quickly to the familiar sound of a freezer being opened and closed. My body tightens, clenched in regret. Quick slaps rain down on my ass, ice-cold hard paddle. I hate the cold, and she knows it. I try to flinch away, but the strokes are so unpredictable. Pain from the paddle turns to heat, spreading throughout my whole body. Tingling between my legs, almost an ache. My whimpers and moans are almost cries. I want to cry, but a tension holds me back, like a rope around my midsection it holds the few pieces of composure left inside me. “Are you sorry now?” “Yes Daddy, I’m so sorry, I’ll be your good girl. I’m sorry Daddy.” “Shhh, that’s enough.” Her fingers gentle on my sore ass, caress down, her thumbs pulling my ass cheeks apart. Feel the head of her cock teasing me through my soaked panties. “Hmm, I don’t think you’ve been good enough for this yet. Turn around.”
She’s back in the chair, stroking the dull thick black cock she denied me. “Take off your clothes, leave on those shoes.” The sweater tries to cling to my sweat slicked back, black skirt and panties down by my ankles, maintaining enough grace not to let them trip me up. Left nude standing before her, feeling naughty in nothing but the black Mary Jane’s. “You look so sweet. Get on your knees and come here.” Crawl up to her, the plush carpet beneath my skin like subtle punishment for my knees, burning my skin like a sandpaper trail to Daddy’s lap. Finally in front of her, between her denim covered spread legs, watching her stroke her cock in my face. “Look good” I nod silently. “It’d look better in your mouth.” “Thank you Daddy” I barely get the words out.
Slipping the tip between my lips, savoring, licking slowly. Making it shining and wet, hoping that if I do a good job she’ll fuck me with it later. Getting lost in the rhythm, sensation of her cock sliding in and out of my mouth, wanting more, reach up and hold her hips, opening to swallow more. Just as an extra inch slides in, I’m knocked back, confused.
“Greedy girl. I didn’t say you could touch me. You’ll suck as much of my cock as I give you. Stay here” She’s gone again, I sit worried, ashamed to have behaved so badly. Surely she won’t fuck me now. When she returns I regain hope, and more excitement. The roll of duct tape clenched in her palm “Hold out your hands” She tapes my wrists together, checks to make sure it loose enough to be safe. Back in the chair, she guides my mouth to her cock, hand on the back of my head. Her fist full of my hair, up and down, showing me how to suck her. My cheeks ache, and tears well up at my rising humiliation. I can hear her moans and grunts, her hand shoving my face faster and deeper. Moans escaping me as well. She’s fucking my face now, rough and hard. A split second I look up, into her eyes. She’s gone, bucks and thrusts, coming in my mouth.
“Oh such a good girl, just give Daddy a minute” Her face bright red, eyes glazed, breath ragged, she struggles and focuses her eyes on me. Kneeling down next to me, kissing my wet swollen lips. “Its very hard for me to come that way. Such a good girl.” She strokes my left cheek with her left hand before slapping my face twice, grinning cruelly.
Her arms wrap around me, lifting me up and back to the bed. Raising my hands above my head, warming my skin with her hot breath. Small metal things come from her pockets, clamps tightened on my nipples. Alternating waves of pain and pleasure from my red nipples warming the metal that encompasses them. Her soft caresses on the rest of my body confuse my senses. I ache to squirm, but knowing better, I lie still. Her fingers finally stop between my legs. Parting my pink lips, strumming my clit. I gasp at how sensitive I am. “Such a good girl, so wet.”” Feel her fingers slip inside me, not enough to fill me, just a tease. “So wet” she keeps repeating, both of us concentrating on her fingers inside me. “Don’t move” she demands, her face determined.
I want to watch her, decode her expression, but the feeling of opening, stretching, is too much. I concentrate on feeling her hand, her fingers, and realize what she is about to do. I’ve never taken more than three, four on a good day. Oh I don’t think I can do this. I have to scream, she didn’t say to be quiet. I let my voice do what my body cannot, screams shaking from my throat, words that refuse to form or make sense come out in garbled cries. Her hand is tearing me open; I can feel myself coming apart. I can’t even look anymore, can’t think, can’t feel anything except the fullness between my legs, the pressure inside, pulsing, pushing, fuck what is she doing to me? I don’t know when it started anymore, or how long she’s been inside me. The pain is so real, I want her to stop, but I need her there, hurting me, making me whole, aware. “Yes” my mind is screaming over and over. And then I’m the one that’s gone, not able to hear my screams and moans, like spilt ink on paper, staining me inside and out, all over me. The rope inside has broken and all my pieces are everywhere.