Author: BlackPhillipsOffer

I kiss her softly, my hand tracing the lines of her neck. I let her anticipate.

She knows what is coming.

She jumps and gasps all the same when it happens. I squeeze her throat. “Aren’t you just the prettiest little slut,” I whisper.

“am I, Daddy?”

“You are, little one,” I reaffirm as my grip tightens. She smiles, proud, draws a thin breath. She does her best to hold my gaze.
My fingers tease over her mound. Stroke slowly between her soft folds. Circle her entrance as she presses, greedily clenches.
Her eyes roll back as she tries to gasp again.

“Look at me.” Obedient, she does.
Her eyes plead as she squirms.

“tighter…” Her voice is the ghost of a whisper. As quiet as she is, her voice resounds with need.

I oblige. My fingers oblige her other need.
Pressing into her. slowly. slowly. Fingers rubbing and sliding over and inside her. She shudders in my hands. Struggles to be good and attentive as she clenches tight.

She pleads wordlessly for permission.

I make her wait…

Let her throb… Read more »

You don’t often get so shamelessly needy, so direct. You’ll, tease, hint, and flirt to get what you want. But when you do…

When you ask me to fuck you. When you narrow your eyes, crinkle your nose, grin, and ask me to fuck you it flips a switch.

All those dark things you crave…I become them.

When you ask me to fuck…
I want to touch and taste you until you’re writhing.
until you’re sweating.
until you’re grinding for even the barest touch.
until you are no longer asking, you’re begging.

Any pretense of you playfully teasing long since eclipsed by my own teasing and your growing desperate need.

Then I become that sadist. that ravager. that predator. I will fuck you until your begging becomes a struck whimper…a slutty moan…eager gagging…a choked gasp.

I will use every inch of you to ignite every one of our senses until we collapse, tangled, into one another. I want to fuck you because I can’t help giving you exactly what you ask for.

You know what you did, little one. Your teasing is never ever an accident. You desire and crave and then scheme and act. So you flaunted. So you insinuated. Then giggled and tried to get away. But you didn’t try too hard.

And now you’re getting punished.
And now you’re getting exactly what you wanted.
Aren’t you?

Punishment or reward. The line between the two is blurred into meaninglessness.

The noise of the impact is nothing compared to your whimpering. To your crying and pleading. Begging me to stop with one breath and demanding more the next. Ever the contrary brat.

Your feet kick in protest. You squirm and writhe to escape the blows. But in the breaths between the blows your ass arches right back up for another. And another. Redder and redder.

Your cunt, your thighs are drenched. They mirror your tears. The reward and the punishment.

When it ends you don’t run. You are wrapped in your blanket. In my arms. Your tears are cleaned with kisses (and a tissue too. I am prepared for your brattyness). You submit to my embrace, unable to help your grin. Sated…grateful…and self-satisfied.