The Brat – SFCityDom © 2006

 

8:10 Wednesday Morning

 

Enjoying my morning coffee, I hear her off-key singing as she comes down the stairs. With the slapping sound of her bare feet landing on the hard floors, I look over my newspaper and see her dance to music I can’t hear.

 

She makes her way into the kitchen, pours herself a glass of orange-juice and makes herself some toast.

 

“You came in late last night.”

 

“Uh.”

 

“Take those damn things off!”

 

She makes a face at me.  “What?”

 

“I said…take those damn things off!”

 

“What?”  As she removes the headphones.

 

“I said, take those damn things off! It is really annoying that you use your iPod when you are walking around the house. Just turn on the stereo.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

I glare at her.

 

“Um, sorry.”

 

“You came home late last night.”

 

“I was out with Monique.”

 

“I want you home early this evening.”

 

“I have plans.”  Between bites of toast and slips of juice.

 

“Cancel ‘em. You have been out late too much lately. You need to concentrate on your studies and you need your rest.”

 

“But, I can’t…”

 

“You had best be here when I get home.”

 

“Jeezus.” She whines.

 

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, young lady. Is your homework done?”

 

“Yes,” she replies in a snotty tone.

 

“You need to hurry up and get ready. That school is costing good money; I don’t want you late.”

 

“Ok, Ok”

 

“I have to get to the office.”

 

“I need forty dollars” she yells as she runs up the stairs.

 

“What for?” My enquiry falls short as she shuts the door to the bathroom.

 

Leaving two twenty-dollar bills on the entry table, I grab my jacket and bag and head out the door.

 

7:45 Wednesday Evening

 

“Hello?” as I walk through the door.

 

Silence. Putting down my jacket and bag, I notice all the lights are on in the house.

 

“Hello!”

 

Again, no answer.

 

I head upstairs to take a shower. As I pull off my pants, my cell phone rings, alerting me to an inbound text message from her. I retrieve the message. “with monique home later.”

 

“God damn brat.” I say to myself.

 

I call her cell. She doesn’t answer and it goes to voice mail.

 

“Hi, I got your text message. This morning I made it clear that you should be home this evening. I suggest that you head home now!”

 

I then text message her.

 

“u should b home”

 

I expressly told her to be home, she has blatantly disobeyed me and I am now pissed. But I know her, I am pretty certain where she will be around 10:30 this evening.

 

While showering, my thoughts are of her. Why does she do this? I try to provide an environment that is supportive, secure, and safe and give her the opportunities she deserves. Sometimes, I wonder if I make it too easy for her. Maybe she does not appreciate or respect me. Or as all young people do, is she just testing her limits.

 

As I prepare dinner, I wait for her call that never arrives. Communication is something that is important to me, of which she is well aware. It is a rare instance in which someone doesn’t know what is going on in my mind. If anything, I may communicate too much. Sometimes I make mistakes, perhaps reacting quickly when staying back a bit may be the better course. Nevertheless, you would be hard-pressed to call me passive/aggressive.

 

It is 10:00 o’clock and I still have not heard from her. By now she should be at a club on 4th St. This is the most likely place to find her on a Wednesday evening. I pull on my boots, grab a jacket and head down to the garage. I start up the truck and exit the garage for the 10-minute drive to the club.

 

When I arrive at the club, outside there is a line of people waiting to get in. There is no parking near the club; therefore, I need to double-park the truck. I turn on the flashers, get out of the truck and set the alarm.

 

Walking up to the bouncer guarding the entrance, I remove my driver’s license from my wallet.

 

“You need to wait in line with everyone else.”   The bouncer says as I approach.

 

“Listen. My underage daughter is in there and I am going in to retrieve her. Here is my driver’s license.  I will be right out.”

 

“I can’t let you in.”

 

“Listen, You let me in or I am going to call the police and Alcohol Enforcement and inform them that you have minors in your establishment.”

 

“Ok, hurry up.” He takes my license from me.

 

People in line complain about me getting in ahead of them.

 

I walk into the club.  It is dark and very Goth. Nine Inch Nails – “Hand That Feeds” is playing over the speakers. The club is filled with three groups of people: pure Goth, the fetish crowd and vanilla metro-sexual 20 something males. The latter group, clad In their khakis and moussed hair stand out like I would at church. They come here to watch the S/M scenes, see the fetish chicks and maybe get their asses smacked by some Domme.

 

I scan the crowd looking for her or for Monique. I see Monique across the room near the bar. I know that the brat is not far away. Around Monique is a small crowd of vanilla boys, all vying for her attention. Out the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of her walking from the women’s room.

 

No matter how she dresses, sluttily, fetishy, or classy, she is always beautiful. I remember the first time I saw her and how at that moment she became my definition of beauty. Sometimes, in a moment, everything changes.

 

She is wearing a dark red corset, black latex pants and high heels and her hair is in a ponytail. She reaches the crowd of boys, Monique hands her a drink. I hang back for a bit to see what she does. She is just standing there sipping her drink and chatting with the boys.

 

I have always enjoyed watching her interact with people; to see her in a crowd at a club or party. She can hold court if she desires. I sometimes wonder who she really is: the bratty girl I see at home or the self-assured woman I see now? The truth? She is both.

 

Standing there, I almost get lost just watching her. One of the boys reaches over and touches her arm. Even from this distance, I can tell she is not happy with his touch as she recoils from him.

 

“Fuck that,” I say to myself and I begin to make my way to her.

 

Weaving my way across the dance floor of spinning, death-faced dancers, I come up behind her. Monique sees me and her eyes grow large as I approach. I step between her and the boy that touched her and grabbing the brat by the shoulder, I spin her around. She appears extremely startled.

 

The boy that touched her steps into my space and speaks up.

 

“Hey old man, she is with me.”

 

“No I am not. I just met him here,” she quickly speaks up in disdain.

 

Looking at her intensely, I can tell that I have made her squirm.

 

“I swear I just met him.”

 

“She did,” Monique concurs.

 

Taking her drink from her and handing it to Monique, I step forward, backing the brat up against the wall with my face right in hers. With heels, she is only a couple of inches shorter than I. However, I still tower over her.

 

“Where are you supposed to be?”

 

“I texted you that I was going out with Monique.”

 

“Wrong answer.”

 

“I…” she tries again.

 

“Wrong answer. This morning where did I tell you to be this evening when I got home?”

 

“Home …but …”

 

“No buts.  And I left a text message and voice mail reminding you where you were supposed to be.”

 

“I guess, I couldn’t hear my phone.”

 

“Give me your phone.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Just give it to me.”

 

She reaches into her bag and hands me her phone. I scroll through her messages. She has retrieved both the voice mail and the text message.

 

“So you have no excuse for not being home except that you are a spoiled fucking brat.”

 

“But…”

 

Again the boy speaks up: “Dude, ah, ‘scuse me, but do you own her?”

 

“Yes. I do, actually. We are leaving. Monique do you have cab fare?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

I reach up and grab the brat by the ear lobe. This will put her in her place. If I had grabbed her by the hair or something more menacing, it would simply have aroused both her and the crowd.

 

“Fuck, that hurts!” she squeals.

 

I begin walking her across the dance floor when one of the boys grabs my arm.

 

“Dude, that is not cool.”

 

“Unless you want to learn how to pick up bloody teeth, I suggest you get your fucking hands off me.”

 

He lets go of me and I continue pulling her across the dance floor by the ear. In the latex pants, she needs to shuffle to keep up with me and the heels don’t help.

 

As we exit the club and pass the bouncer, he hands me back my license.

 

“Hey, she isn’t underage,” he states.

 

“Yeah and she’s not my daughter either.”

 

“Jeezus, I can’t believe you are embarrassing me like this.”

 

“And I can’t believe you completely disregarded my request.”

 

I disarm the truck alarm, open the passenger’s door and push her in, shutting the door on her. As I get in the truck, she calls me an asshole. We drive off down 4^th street.

 

“Can I have my phone back?”

 

“No. You can go without it for a week.”

“I can’t. My calendar is on there,” she whines.

 

“I will give you a pen and paper and you can write out your calendar.”

 

“I can’t believe what an ass you are being.”

 

“Stop while you are ahead,” I warned her.

 

“You treat me like child.”

 

“Act like child and you will be treated like one.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

With her words, I turn left on to 16^th street and go beyond were the road ends and into a vacant lot. It is on the bay, dark and desolate. She looks over at me and realizes she has gone too far. Grabbing her by the hair, I slap her across the face.

 

The slap brings a glazed calm to her. Her response is similar to when you pick up a pissed-off cat by the scruff of the neck, how they suddenly become still and quiet.

 

“Don’t ever talk to me that way again.”

 

I reach into the storage box under the backseat and pull out a cock gag. I keep a few items on hand as one never knows when they may be needed. She struggles with me as I force it into her mouth and buckle it around her head. She is now more pissed then before. Again, I slap her.

 

Getting out of the truck, I walk around to the passenger side and open the door. There is always rope in the truck. It comes in handy. Binding her hands behind her back, I force her out of the truck and push her, stomach down, onto the passenger seat. With the excess rope, I pull her arms up and secure them to the grab bar above the door. Slapping her again, she begins to cry and gag a bit on the rubber cock in her mouth.

 

Latex pants are among the most difficult articles of clothing to put on and get off. However, I am able to peel them down around her hips and just above her knees, revealing her bare ass. Because they are skintight, the pants alone serve to bind her knees together.

 

“You will never forget this mistake.”

 

I pull my belt from my pants, fold it over and begin beating her ass with it. With each blow she writhes. I am not even counting tonight. I deliver several strikes and then I feel her ass to see how hot or welted it has become. After ten minutes of beating her ass, I grab her cunt. It is soaking wet. This just makes my cock hard.

 

Using my belt, I make a noose and put it over her head and around her throat. With a stray piece of rope, I secure her ponytail to her bound hands. Sliding my fingers into her, I begin to fuck her with my fingers. Her arms are strained by my thrusting fingers and as she moves her head, she pulls her own hair. I can hear her muffled moans against the rubber cock.

 

Unbuttoning my pants, I pull my hard cock out and push it into her. With her legs bound by her latex pants, her cunt is extra tight. With each stroke, I can feel her open up to me. I hold onto the belt and give it a tug while I fuck her. Not enough to choke her, she would like that, just enough to let her know I could if I wanted to. With each thrust of my cock, the rope pulls her arms and again her hair is pulled.

 

“Don’t fuckin’ come. If you do, you will spend the next week home with the exception of going to class.”

 

I continue raping her cunt and then I feel it. She holds her breath, her body goes rigid, and I feel her cunt convulse around my cock.

 

“I told you not to fuckin’ come.”

 

Pulling my cock from her cunt, I rub spit on her asshole then thrust into her. With just the juice from her cunt and my spit for lube, she bucks at the violent entry. Within two stokes I unload my cum in her ass. I roll off her, resting for a moment against the truck, I pull up my pants and button them. Removing the belt from her neck, I slide it back through the belt loops of my pants and buckle it.

 

She is still hanging there by the rope. The encounter has left her limp. Releasing her hair from the rope, I untie her arms from the grab bar. With her arms bound behind her back, I turn her to face me. Tears smear her makeup as she cries. I unbuckle the gag and remove it from her.

 

“Why does it have to be this way?” She sobs.

 

“What way?”

 

“That we end up angry and short with each other.”

 

“Well, you don’t take responsibility for things. Like being home when I tell you or doing your homework. It is as if you want me mad.”

 

“I try. But, I’m scared of standing still.”

 

I reach around her and release her wrist from the ropes. She leans back onto the seat and begins to cry.

 

“What is there to be scared of?” I ask.

 

“I might miss something.”

 

“You might. And as you’re doing something, you will miss something else. You can’t do it all.”

 

“I know. Just stick with me. I need you.”

 

“I will.” And I pull her close.

 

“It’s is not like I am perfect. You have stuck with me through my mistakes.”

 

“Yeah.” She gasps a breath and snuffles.

 

“We are strange pair.”

 

 

The Brat – Part II – SFCityDom © 2006

 

She climbs into the passenger seat and I shut the door behind her. I make my way to the around the truck, climb into driver’s seat and shut the door. As I reach over her to get her seatbelt, she strokes my hair and kisses the back of my neck. Buckling her in place, for a moment, we are face-to-face.

 

“I love you,” she says.

 

“I know.”

 

I start the truck and take off. On the ride home, neither of us speaks. I touch her face and she responds by pressing her face into my hand.

 

Pulling into the garage, I park and help her out of the truck. As we walk, like a small child seeking reassurance, she takes my hand.

 

“Are you ok?”

 

“Yes,” she says, which fails to convince me.

 

On opening the front door, we both head upstairs and she curls up on the bed. She holds herself tight as if her life depended on it.

 

“Get up. No sulking.”

 

She gets up and stands in front of me. Turning her around, I begin to unlace her corset. Monique must have helped her with it. She would not have been able to lace it this tight. Peeling the corset from her body reveals a lattice imprint beautifully running down her back. With my fingers I feel the red embossed lines etched into her pale skin, tracing my fingers from her shoulders to the top of her ass.

 

“Remove your heels.”

 

She complies by kicking them off.

 

I grab her latex pants by waist and pull them down around her ankles. Her ass is red and welted from my belt. I help her step out of the pants. Turning around to face me, her arms are folded tight across her breast. She has closed herself off to me.

 

“Go ready the shower. I will be there in a moment.”

 

She disappears into the bathroom and I hear the shower door slide open as the water comes on.

 

At some point I hope that she gets it. This need she has to be the center of attention to people who don’t know her or value her. Seen strictly as a piece of meat, the adoration of the unknown. The boys at the club this evening, they flocked to her but all they wanted was a piece of her. In the past, this unspoken need got her in trouble. It is odd, but she must be stripped of her misguided sense of self-worth in order for her to realize that she is important and worthy of love and happiness.

 

She must come to understand that I will give her all the freedom she needs. However, she has to prove to me she can handle it. I need to trust her to take care of her safety: both physical and emotional. She needs to set priorities- school, relationships, and play, and follow through on the commitments she makes.

 

This woman has all the quality I desire, with all the spirit and pleasure that one would hope for. The goal is break the pony so she can be controlled without destroying the spirit. I want her to be good girl and an empowered woman, so that we can both enjoy the spirited girl.

 

I strip and walk into the bathroom. She is in the shower, just standing with the water running down her back. I step in behind her and shut the shower door.

 

“Are you ok?” Again I ask.

 

“Yes. I’m fine,” she replies.

 

Taking the shampoo bottle, I pour some onto her head and begin washing her hair. With my fingers deep into her hair, against her scalp, she rolls her head into my hands.

 

“Tilt your head back.”

 

With her head tilted back, I take the showerhead by the handle and begin to rinse.

 

As I finish rinsing her hair, she begins sobbing. Not cries of disappointment, but that hurt soul kind of crying, the one of true pain. She moves forward into me. Putting my arms around her, I can feel her body quiver and convulse as she holds on to me. She looks up at me with her reddened eyes full of tears.

 

“I think am ready to let you in,” she says, as snot running from her nose mixes with spit and tears, stringing across her lips.

 

“You do care about me. It is not just lust or fucking with you, is it?”

 

“Why do you ever doubt me?”

 

“Because it is safer then believing and being hurt.”

 

“What does it mean to let me in?”

 

“I will quit pushing you away and fighting you.”

 

“Are you certain?”

 

“Yes. I just want to be happy with you.”

 

“That is really all I have ever wanted for you. Whether with me or someone else.”

 

“Yes. I want to be happy. I want you to rape me, beat me, fuck me, use me; there is nothing I will not give you. I am your slut and your girl.”

 

I kiss her on the lips.

 

“Get up.”

 

With her standing, I pour body wash onto her. I begin washing her body: her breast, waist, shoulders, her back and ass, between her legs. When she is all soaped up, I rinse her off.

 

“Put out your hand.”

 

I pour body wash into her hand.

 

“Now wash me.”

 

She begins by washing my chest and shoulders. I turn and she washes my back and ass. Facing her, she grabs my cock with her soapy hands and begins to stroke it. Carefully she washes my balls and then my legs. I take the showerhead and rinse off.

 

I turn off the water and open the shower door and grab two towels. I hand her one and she begins to dry off. I step out of the shower.

 

“I want you to blowdry your hair, then put it in a ponytail. I will be waiting in the bedroom for you.”

 

I finish drying off, pull on a pair of boxer-briefs and return to the bedroom. Opening the closet, I retrieve the items I will need for this evening: flogger, cane, rope, lube, butt plug, ring gag, bag of clothespins, and vibrator. With the items laid out behind me, I sit, waiting for her, on the edge of the bed.

 

The blow dryer goes silent and she appears from the bathroom. She walks over to me. Wrapping my legs around her, I pull her in close to me. She places her head on shoulder and hugs me.

 

“Are you certain you want to completely surrender to me?”

 

“Yes. I am not doing the best of jobs managing my life.”

 

“That is not the point.”

 

“You do have my best interests at heart. This I know.”

 

“Always.”

 

“I don’t trust myself. But, I do trust you.”

 

“I will not let you down.”

 

I pull her back by the ponytail and look her in the eyes. She wipes away her tears.

 

Forcefully I take her by her torso, position her across my lap. With my leg over her thighs and my left hand on the back of her neck, I hold her down. Her instincts take over and she begins to resist. My cock hardens with her struggles and I deliver a violent strike on her ass.

 

With this strike, the struggle fades from her and she begins to cry. I deliver nine more hard strikes. Her ass is crimson in color and hot to the touch. I slide my hand between her legs; her pussy is wet and I slide my fingers deep inside her. Her tears are punctuated with moans.

 

“Sweetheart, get on your knees.”

 

Withdrawing my fingers and releasing her from my grasp, I allow her to get on her knees. I don’t have to tell her where to position herself; ‘on your knees’ can only mean one thing.

 

She looks up at me from between my legs.

 

“Hands behind your back.”

 

She complies.

 

Pulling my cock from my briefs, her mouth opens as if a baby bird hungry for a rather veiny purple worm.   She moves forward for my cock. I grab her by the ponytail and tease her.

 

“Stick out your tongue.”

 

She sticks her tongue out as far as she can and I touch the tip of it with my cock. She struggles to get to my cock.

 

“Want my cock?”

 

“Yes. I want your cock, your cum. I want all you have for me.”

 

I let go of her ponytail and my cock vanishes into her mouth. She fucks me with her mouth and throat and I can feel her struggle as it reaches the depth of her.

 

I grab her by the hair and pull her off of my cock. She struggles to keep her mouth on me.

 

“Please. I want your cock.”

 

“No. Put your hands in front of you.”

 

She complies.

 

With the rope, I secure her wrists together.

 

“Come on, get up.” As I stand up.

 

She stands and I pull her by the rope. I position her in front of the right bedpost at the foot of the bed. I toss the rope over the lintel that spans the bedposts. With the rope I pull her arms above her head to the point where she is barely flat footed on the floor.

 

Standing in front of her, I squeeze her breast as I look into her eyes. She is so beautiful. As I kiss her, her tongue licks the inside of my mouth. I begin rolling her nipple in my fingers as she presses her hips into me. The sensual rolling slowly becomes a light pinch and then a hard pinch. She struggles to take the pinch. I pull away from our kiss.

 

“You are not going to yelp are you?” I ask as the pinch turns to twist.

 

She lunges for me and kisses me even harder. I let go of her nipple. Her breathing is deep and steady as she processes the sensation.

 

Seizing her by the throat, I slide my hand between her legs, insert my fingers inside her and lift her onto her toes.

 

“You have become my favorite toy.”

 

I retrieve the ring gag from the bed.

 

“Please, I don’t want the gag.”

 

“You said there was nothing you wouldn’t do.”

 

She struggles as I place the gag on her and secure it around her head.

 

With the gag in place, I retrieve the flogger from the bed.

 

“I want you to step back as far as you can.”

 

Stepping back, her arms are stretched forward, making her back arch downward.

 

Landing soft easy strokes of the flogger on her ass, I let them slide gentle down her cheeks. After 10 or so strokes, I begin to land the strikes harder on her cheeks. Three on one side, then three more on the other. The sound of the tresses moving through the air is punctuated by the smacks on her ass and the awkward moans from her gagged mouth. Slowly, the smacks turn to thuds.

 

With the thuds, she braces herself for their arrival; again, three for the right cheek and three for the left.

 

“Step forward a bit and place your feet about shoulder-width apart.”

 

She steps forward but fails to spread her feet. Placing a foot between hers, I grab her by the hair and lean into her.

 

“I said feet shoulder-width apart” and I kick her feet apart.

 

I step back and land a few hard blows on her ass. Taking the flogger, I twist the tresses in order that they stay bunched up and I up-stroke the flogger between her legs. The first strike catches her off-guard and she is startled.

 

I quickly land another strike on her cunt. She moans with the strike. Then again and again. Banging her cunt with the flogger over and over again, I begin to notice that the ends of the tresses are slightly wet from her cunt.

 

“Do you want to come?”

 

“Yes.” Inelegantly drips from her mouth with her spit.

 

“Not yet. You have to earn it.”

 

I go to the bed and retrieve the cane, a typical rattan cane. I step in front of her, pulling her back by the hair, I look into her eyes. They are somewhat glassy and shiny and red from tears. I slide the cane along the inside of her thigh and drag it up between her legs, playing her clit as if it is a violin string and the cane a bow. Without hesitation, I land a strike, as hard as I can, on the outer thigh.

 

“FUCK!!” as she tries to move away from me.

 

Placing my arm around her waist, I pull her in close and I kiss and bite her neck and I can feel her hips pressing into me. Sliding the cane along her thighs and ass, she jerks in anticipation, as I lift the cane from her skin.

 

“I want you to back up with your legs shoulder-width apart.”

 

She begins to back up.

 

“Farther back.”

 

Her arms are starting to strain as she backs up. She spreads her legs.

 

“Wider!”

 

She struggles. I help her along with a smack on the inner thigh. Her legs are now spread.

 

I retrieve the bag of clothespins, the butt plug, lube and the vibrator. I plug in the vibrator and kneel behind her. Turning on the vibrator, I place it just barely on her lips and slowly move up towards her clit. With it on high, I press it into her clit. She grinds into it in response. She struggles to maintain contact with the vibrator as I move away. Picking up the butt plug, I place an ample amount of lube on it and more on her asshole and slowly work it into her. Watching her asshole dilate to accept the plug is a nice visual and then it pops in.

 

I slide my fingers into her pussy. With only the thin wall of flesh between the plug and my fingers, her pussy is even tighter. She begins to moan as I apply pressure to her g-spot. I place the vibrator back onto her clit.

 

“I am going to come.”

 

“Don’t”

 

I turn off the vibrator and remove my fingers. From the bag, I remove seven clothespins. I begin placing them on her cunt. Grabbing her right outer lip, I pull it taut and place two clothespins. I slide my fingers into her again to rub her g-spot. She moans. Pulling my fingers from her, I place two more clothespins on her left outer lip. She breathes deep. On each of her inner lips, I place a clothespin. There is much more sensation with these and her breathing quickens.

 

“Slow your breathing. Breath deeper. Do you want me to remove them?”

 

“No.”

 

Positioning myself in front of her, with the last clothespin I stretch the spring out a bit so that it does not bite as much and place it on her clit.

 

“Fuuuck.” She cries.

 

Switching on the vibrator, I slowly place it on the clothespins. The vibration causes the clothespins to bounce and dance around. I grab the base of the butt plug, tugging and pushing it, as I vibrate the clip on her clit.

 

“I need to come. I am going to come.”

 

“Not yet.”

 

I stand and pick up the cane.

 

“This is the last smacking on your ass for this evening. Just five more strikes of the cane. You count them out.”

 

Standing behind her, I strike her ass hard. She arches her body away from each strike and the clothespins can be heard rattling together.

 

“One.”

 

The strike has resulted in a prominent red line across both checks. Again I strike her, harder than before.

 

“Two.”

 

Strike! Each strike harder then the previous.

 

“Three.”

 

Strike! Her ass looks as if it has been grilled.

 

“Four.” She grunts to keep the pain at bay.

 

Strike!! The last strike is the hardest.

 

“Five” She screams and writhes with the pain.

 

Quickly, I pick up the vibrator, applying it to her mons pubis. With the vibrator adjacent to her clit, she quickly approaches coming.

 

“I need to come.”

 

“You can come.”

 

I pull the clothespin from her clit and quickly press the vibrator into her clit. Her body jerks with pain and pleasure.

 

“Fuuck that hurts. I am coming.”

 

As she is coming, I remove the rest of the clothespins. With the removal of each one, she squeaks in pain and grinds into the head of the vibrator.

 

I slide my fingers into her pussy; she is convulsing with her orgasm.

 

“Too sensitive…my clit.”

 

I lighten the pressure on her clit. However, I continue to fuck her hard with two fingers in her tight cunt. I feel the plug in her ass.

 

“Shit! I am going to come again.”

 

“Good.”

 

I ram a third finger into her pussy and she begins to come again. I fuck her harder as her pussy tightens around my fingers. I switch off the vibrator and lay it in the floor. However, I still continue fucking her cunt. Fingers were meant to be shoved in pussy.

 

Withdrawing from her pussy, I stand. I remove the ring gag from her and wipe the drool form her lips and chin. She is well used. Untying the rope, I take care that she doesn’t collapse. I take her by the waist as her arms are lowered.

 

Untying the ropes, she looks at me in a way I have never seen. As I remove the ropes from her wrist, she throws her arms around me and hugs me tight.

 

“I want you to fuck me. I want you to come in me.”

 

“Get on your belly.”

 

She climbs onto the bed, lies on her belly and places her head on the pillow. I straddle her legs and she rolls her hips downward, which causes her ass to rise in the air. She loves getting fucked with her legs together. Her pussy is still very wet and as I press the head of my cock into her; she pushes back to meet me. Thrusting my cock deep into her, I grab her hair and pull her head up off the pillow. With the plug in her ass, her cunt is tight even after fucking her with my fingers. I look down at her ass as I thrust. It is bruised, red, striped and abraded. I slap it hard and she smiles.

 

“I am going to come, fuck.”

 

As she rises to meet my cock, I come, shooting my load deep into her pussy. With a few more strokes my orgasm begins to fade. It feels wonderful for so many reasons. With my cock still in her, I collapse forward and rest my chin on her shoulder. Pulling back her hair, I kiss her cheek.

 

“This is a new beginning. Now that you have let me in, there is more for you to learn and experience. All you need to do is to trust me.”

 

She smiles with my words as we lie there, enjoying the warm and comfort of each other.

 

“I now understand.”

 

I withdraw from her and remove the plug. I pull back the blankets and she climbs under the covers and I join her. With her back to me, I put my hand across her breast and pull her close to spoon her and she pushes her ass into my cock.

 

“It is almost 2:00, can we sleep in and play hooky tomorrow?” she asks.

 

“No. I am going to work and you are going to school.”

 

“Ok.”

 

“And someone needs to clean up all these toys in the morning. I am setting the alarm for 7:00 am.”

 

“Ok.”

 

Thursday 11:03 AM

 

Sitting in my office I receive a text message. It is from her.

 

“Btwn class hard 2 sit”

 

“Y?”

 

“Butt hurts. If i think about it i get wet”

 

“J”

 

Prior to meeting her, if anyone had told me that this woman would be in my life, I would have not believed them. Nevertheless, that moment I saw her smile, I knew I was lost. She will never know the power that she holds over me.

 

She is the daughter I will never have and the woman I have always wanted. I can’t imagine my life, no, the world, without her.

 

“I’ll b home at 530. What do u want 4 dinner?”

 

“You!”