My new toy is meant to be played with

I sit on his lap. That is not entirely accurate. I am curled on his lap. He has more than a foot on me and when sitting, his body creates a space that I inhabit, legs curled under me. I wear only scraps of tempting fabrics, lacey and sheer and unable to hide anything.

His hands rest on my hips, the fingers tensing into my flesh periodically. I lean back against his chest, wrapped around myself in a serpentine coil. I feel his hands shift, snaking around my stomach and down between my legs.

And despite all of this, my eyes remain squarely on her. I grow into the space his body provides, but my attention is on the girl several feet from us, waiting.

She stands with her hands behind her back. I can see the nervousness every time she tenses one of her legs or feet. She is waiting for him to speak, not knowing that she is my present, and I intend to play.

"I want you to dance for us."

I pull his arms closer around me as her hips begin to sway, her sweet figure rolling in line with unheard music. She is trying so hard, and I find her naivete, her assumption that he is the cruel one, so delectably precious.

"Take your clothes off."

She stops and her hands immediately go to the hem of her shirt.

"No." The edges of my lips have dropped and I am unamused. "I didn't say stop dancing."

She nods, the realization that I am not an ally coming over her and making her tremble.She begins to move and sway again, pulling off her shirt in the meantime. I find her endearing, but I am electrified at the possibilities.

I lean slowly and kiss the space behind my Sir's ear. "I want to make you proud." I whisper, my lips kissing and caressing the soft crest of his ear, my lips finding his ear lobe and placing another gentle peck there. "I want you to know what you have."

He smiles, his hands squeezing softly. I smile and kiss his neck as she continues to strip down, though no one is watching. I am enjoying ignoring her, re-focusing all my adoration on my Sir.

"I know what I have." I leans down to kiss the top of my head. "That's why I'm scared for her."

I giggle, turning back to watch her rock her naked body back and forth. "Fuck yourself for us." I lean back into him as his fingers move into my panties, feeling how wet I was. I rocked back against his cock, only getting wetter when I felt how hard he was. I felt my breath catch a little as he touched me.

She nodded, opening her legs for us. Her hand tentatively moved to her cunt as his found mine, and begin to work her sweet clit. She played with herself so earnestly that I fought not to find it sweet. Her fingers worked her clit back and forth before sliding inside her pussy. I heard her whimper and I almost giggled, knowing that this would be the last un-aching moan she would be allowed tonight.

I felt his other hand slide around under my shirt, flicking my nipple to a tight peak as his other hand languidly rubbed my soaked clit. He leaned forward again, and I felt his nose brush the back of my ear, just as I felt his cock brush my ass. "You're going to destroy her, aren't you, baby?"

I nodded and I felt him squeeze my nipple hard. I arched slightly, opening my mouth to gasp. I ache to make her hurt. I ache to tease her and not allow her to cum and to make her cry and beg and whimper on the ground. I want to spit on her and call her names as much as I want to beat her until she cries. I want so many things. I want to prove to my Sir that I am cruel and powerful and merciless so he knows how much it means that I submit to him. I want to tell him all of this, but I want to show him more.

"As much as you hurt her... I'm going to hurt you more. Just so she knows how amazing you are."

I open my mouth both to giggle and to protest, but I know it will just dig my own grave.

On Father's Day...

So in my heart of hearts, I am a Daddy's girl. True, I am certainly a switch. I love fucking women, topping men, and destroying pretty girls. It's all exceptional. My favorite new game? Being a mean Mommy to a pretty little femme who needs to learn how to be a big girl. It's cruel and wicked and turns my crank so, so hard. But after all of it, there is nothing in the world I want more than for Daddy to tell me I've been his good girl.

There is something about watching Daddy dress and undress, smelling his cologne, knowing the care he takes. When he walks in, I immediately feel it. I feel how strong he is, and I feel desperate to be kneeling in front of him.

I love when Daddy fucks me. I love when Daddy's cock in inside me and I know I'm being a good girl for him. I love showing Daddy all that I learn by riding his cock until he cums inside of me. I love begging Daddy to let me cum on his cock, buried deep in my dripping cunt. I love it most when I'm lacking back and Daddy has his fingers inside me. I love arching up, my hand on the back of his neck, fingers tensed, and so completely in his control, his hands manipulating my cunt and making me completely within his whims. I love when I am so close and I can feel his breath on my ear whispering "Cum, baby." I love when I am allowed to cum for my Daddy, screaming out, whimpering and shaking and trembling and fucking his fingers. I love when I am under control by my Daddy, and in that moment I am completely owned.

I love when my Daddy pushes me. I live to hear my Daddy tell me that I've been a good girl for him. Nothing makes me smile quite as wide as knowing that I have made my Daddy so proud. I want him to show me off, to show the world how well he has trained me, and how proud he is that I am his little girl, his baby doll. I love when Daddy knows that my limits are his, and that when he says I am ready, I am ready. And when I whimper, and tell Daddy that it hurts, that he takes the most delicate of care, slowing his cock and shifting me to be more comfortable as he fucks me. And when he doesn't, I love knowing that my pain is a gift to him, and that he appreciates the ache.

And I love giving him that pain. I love giving him the gift of my pleasure, my pain, my hurt, my ache, my agony, my cunt, my skin, every inch of my flesh, my devotion, my want, my desire, and my heart. I promise to always be your good girl.

Besos.
The Prude.

The New Girl is Trained

I come into your office and close the door. You wave me in, the phone against your ear. I know you'll be on the conference call for the next 45 minutes at least, though I have no idea what it is. Your "mmhmm"s and "yup"s give little information as to whatever you're discussing.

It's not my job to know, though. It's simply my job to be of service.

You wave me closer and I walk silently to you. I know exactly what to do, as we have been here many and too few times before. I stand in front of you and bend over your desk, forearms on the hard wood.

Your hands are practically clinical when pulling my skirt up and panties down. Your voice remains perfectly calm even when my breath catches. I can feel the tips of your fingers moving over my skin and I spread my legs for you.

Your fingers slide down my ass and I shiver. I know I'll be beaten to shit and my panties shoved in my mouth if I make a noise. I don't want that today. Today I just want to be perfect for you.

As I hear you launch into a critique of whatever was just proposed, your fingers find my cunt.I hold in all my noises but my eyelids flutter and I drop my head onto the desk, laying my cheek against the slick wood.

I whimper slightly in the back of my throat and he hears. I feel his fingers dig into my side. I open my mouth to cry out in pain, but no sound emerges. I simply lay my my head back down, spreading my legs more for him.

He keeps working my clit, still pointing out the issues with someone's grand new idea. His fingers never stop moving, always keeping a slow and steady pace. Once I am wet enough for his pleasure, I hear him unzip his pants and pull out his swollen cock. He is hard, ready for me. He wastes no time before both sliding inside my cunt and beginning to fuck.

His voice does not waver.

I hold onto the desk as his cock moves in and out. His hand rests on the small of my back as he starts to pound. This is not about pleasure. This is about his need to cum. This is about being available for his use. This is about fucking my cunt until he explodes inside me and feels sated for the rest of the day. This is about cum dripping down into my panties for the rest of the day. This is about me sitting outside of your office with my hand in the clandestine space between my legs, pressing into my cunt.

I get up on my toes just a little, trying to find the perfect angle for his cock to pump inside me. I feel his him slide in and out, feel juices dripping down my thigh. His hands begin to tense on my hips as he moves faster, getting ready to cum. I can still hear him on his call.

He cums hard, jerking his hips harder into me as he unloads wave after wave of his hot cum into my swollen, wet cunt. When he is done, he taps me once on the small of my back to let me know. He steps back and I stand, pulling up my panties. I have offered in the past to lick his cock clean but he usually prefers to get immediately back to work.

I pull down my skirt as he zips up his pants. I turn around and smile at him. I would love for him to kiss me - I would beg for it, and he knows this. He lifts his hand to my cheek and wipes off an errant smudge of lipstick which has moved past the boundary of my lips. I kiss his thumb as it moves over my mouth.

He sits down and I walk to the door, quietly closing it behind me, proud of my service. I sit down at my desk and as I cross my legs, I feel how wet my panties already are, and think about how little I will be able to think about much else for the rest of the day.

We are well trained to react

I don't need to be tied down to this chair. No matter what happens, I'm too afraid to move. His gloved fingers move across my teeth, running over my tongue, feeling my gums. They are aggressive but exactly. While it feels like an abuse of power, he is simply doing exactly what he came to do.

When he is satisfied, he pulls out the needle and I can feel the slightest of tremors begin to grace my body. I breathe a little faster and my heard pulses viciously. My body is not mine in this moment. Whether it belongs to my fear or him I don't know, I simply know it is not mine.


He is exacting but not cruel. And when i feel the needle begin to slide through my skin I tense and without thought he begins to stroke my face. The needle pulls out and slides back in. He fucks me the same way - slowly, tenderly, knowing how much the size of his cock hurts my tight cunt, but knowing that it must be done.

I wait, only hearing my heart, only feeling his touch.

I relax back and he takes my calm as the cue to start bringing out the implements he will need. I begin to tense again seeing the light glean off of what can only be described as unforgiving. I can't hold back and whimper slightly, a noise which he hears clearly.

He leans over, his hand back to me face. "Are you scared, baby?"

I nod, my lower lip trembling. I am trying not to let a single tear squeeze out, knowing it will streak down my cheek in a display of sheer terror and weakness.He strokes my face until I calm.

"You know I have no choice, you earned this, right? This isn't a punishment, it's just what must be done."

I nod again, and take a long breath. He is simply doing what must be done. I have dug my own grave.

He moves back to his toys, shiny and fresh to be used. I remain perfectly still and in the back of my head, a flicker of debate manifests to simply tell me to run. I can feel the familiar shivers of cold fear fun over me. Every time I am about to take a beating I don't know if I can conquer, every time I am about to embark on a blindfolded task, every time I know I am reaching a new level of submission and servitude, I know these chills. I know these chills well.

"Close your eyes." I nod, letting them slide shut. He strokes my lips with his thumb and I feel him opening my mouth wider. I breathe faster, harder through my nose as I feel the metal touching my lips.

I feel only blur. I feel cold metal moving. I feel it clamp down. I feel it wiggle. And slowly, I feel the remnants of a shattered tooth being pulled slowly from my gums. My flesh tenses around it, gasping not to lose the bone as it moves, wet and slicked with blood and saliva. His hand brushes my face as he wiggles the pliers back and force to wrench it from my mouth. I am cold with fear and trapped in this chair, ready to cry.

He sees my tremble. I look up, eyelids exploding open to try and catch his for comfort. He looks down at me, his eyes soft and comforting.

"Baby?" I can't move, but I stare at him desperately. I can feel it wiggling, pressing on flesh and vulnerable skin. I can taste blood running down my throat and I whimper. I am scared. I want to scream. I want to do something but I am trapped in this chair, paralyzed by fear that any sudden movement will simply be worse. My eyes dart around, not sure what I'm looking for outside of escape.

"Baby." I look back up at him. He knows every thought as it crosses my mind.

"Baby." I make the tiniest noise in the back of my throat to let him know I am with him despite my continually quickening heart and breath as he pulls once more, hard and forceful. I feel it slide slowly out of my mouth and hear it clink down into a small metal tray beside my head.