Nature versus nurture

When you run your fingers down my spine, it makes me shiver. Initially, it was the simple sensation which elicited the response. It would shoot a little dart of electricity right into my clit and I would shiver and grind a little into the bed.

But I have learned.

Now I lay in front of you, naked save white, nylon socks pulled to the knee. My toes curl just slightly as the tips of your fingers run down my spine, barely touching my skin, but pulling a rise out of me which is so forceful it creates ripples in the air, even if the shiver itself it almost imperceptible. You feel my breath catch. You feel my heart squeeze. You feel my throat constrict, as I know what's coming now. I have been trained.

You remain clothed, and so every time I shift towards you I can feel the softness of your shirt on my arm and it is a comfort. These soft sensations which remain constant anchor me to the world. I begin to pray that you allow me this feeling, this reassurance that I am still here in this body, against you, against your shirt, and that this is familiar enough so I don't float off.

And then I feel your fingers again tickle the ridge coasting down the center of my back and again I am sent into a tremble which is not sensation but fear. You have trained this reaction. The second time you do this, I open my legs and shift, pushing my ass into the air.

Your hand grips the curve of my ass firmly, tightly, making sure to wait until I wince before you stop. I open my legs just slightly and the breath against my ear lets me know you are pleased. Two strokes and I know to be yours. I know that this is my only choice.

And without fail you plunge your fingers into my cunt. They fuck me twice before pulling out and rubbing my clit. I sink into your hand, pushing my clit against the slight pressure with which you use to tease me. I whimper, shifting my hips forward again. I hear myself whisper "please" but it takes a moment to realize I have said anything. I wonder how many times I have, in this moment, begged for more. I wonder if I did it consciously the first time I said it.

I can feel myself getting wetter and I want to fight it. I try and let my mind float into space, try and struggle against my own pleasure. I know the wetter I get, the closer it is and I don't want it.

But I want to give you everything you want.

I fight pushing into your hand, I fight feeling my clit swell. I am angrier and angrier at myself as my body responds against my will and to yours. I live every moment knowing that I own my body, that my mind is paramount, that I am in control. And then these moments show me as strongly as I can feel, that this is not the case and it makes me angry.

But even through anger, my pussy does not stop dripping into your hand.

I know the moment the first drop rolls into your palm what is to come and I have the overwhelming feeling of wanting to cry. Your fingers push back into my cunt, working it firmly, pushing deep inside me. I push back involuntarily, opening my mouth to gasp, desperate for more of you. You could do this until I cum and I would explode, whimpering and drenching your hand, shuttering and screaming and tensing on your fingers until I collapsed. But that is not what is to come.

You fuck me again, firm, and pull out. I take a breath, and before I have stopped inhaling, you shove those two fingers roughly into my ass.

I tense and bite my bottom lip trying not to scream. I can feel your breath against my ear, and you know how much I'm trying not to yell. You know it hurts, but the pain is all part of the giving. I open my mouth, arching my head up to gasp for air.

As your fingers begin to thrust, roughly, viciously, I begin to whimper. It is pained and tentative, but growing louder with each thrust. Your fingers stretch my ass, and I can feel that while they were wet with my cum, they are still rough against the skin. I want to open my legs a little more, but I know it won't help, and my comfort is not important enough to break your rule - I already know I'm not allowed to move.

I can feel you move towards me, your other arm sliding underneath my body and gripping me, painfully tight. I open my mouth again and your voice is first.

"Take it, baby." It is calm but forceful. Knowing.

I nod, taking a deep breath as my ass aches and your fingers pound. I whimper again.

"Shhh, baby. Who's ass is this?"

"Your ass."

You nod, your breath getting faster as your fingers move faster and the pain is beginning to overwhelm me. But I want to give it to you even more. I own this body and I will overcome this pain to give you everything I can give. I am trembling, and I know you can feel it, tightening my ass around your fingers, which I know only makes it worse. I cannot place if these reactions are inspired by you or nature or both.

"Yes, babygirl. It's my ass." I feel you pull your fingers out of my ass and I whimper again. I didn't realize how much I was bracing, holding my breath in between desperate noises. I hear your zipper come down and I cannot help but cry out, feeling the tears welling up already even though this is my only moment of relief.

You let this noise go as you pull out your cock and climb up to the head of the bed. I lean up as you get on your knees in front of me and grab the back of my head, pulling it down on your cock. I open my mouth dutifully and gag as you begin to roughly thrust into my mouth. The weight of my body is holding me down. I struggle to get up on my hands but you knock them away. I struggle to breath, gagging harder as strings of saliva connect my lips and the head of your cock.

I struggle to breathe as I gag harder. Tears which have come to the edge of my lashes begin to run down. Like everything else, I don't know if I am upset or if the nature of my body is taking over. Either way, I am quickly covered in tears and saliva, which is pouring out of my mouth.

You fuck my throat harder, your cock slicked and wet. I begin to moan softly, begin to bounce on your cock in reaction to your thrusts. I have exposed myself. I have revealed my enjoyment. You pull back and slap me across the face hard. My lungs seize.

"Who owns that pretty face of yours?"

"You do." My eyes narrow in on you the way they always do when you beat me.

"And who owns that throat?"

"You do." I almost growl.

"And your ass, babygirl?"

My narrowed eyes turn to anger, to aggression, to clenched teeth. "You do."

"Exactly." You push me down as you say it and move to behind me, shoving your hard cock inside my tight asshole while I scream. "Take it for me, babygirl. Give me what I want."

I fight, wanting to give you my ass against my wishes, above my own pain. I hold my ass in the air, tightening around you as you begin to pound. There is no build up. There is no tenderness tonight. There is only what is given and what is taken.

I know you will cum. I know your cum will drip out of me, down my thighs, that I will feel it on my legs as I walk. I know that I will hurt and maybe even bleed and be so sore for days. I know that this will come again, and perhaps it will hurt less next time, but it doesn't matter. I know that as I lay here with your cum in my ass as your cock pulls out, that you will tell me I was a good girl, and you will run those fingers down my spine again and I will feel nothing but pride and the deepest satisfaction that I have pleased you.

Coming Home

When I come in, you're sitting there. I don't remember the last time you were here before me... I usually rush to get in first, to be waiting for you. I live in the anticipation of seeing your face, Daddy.

When I see your face, I struggle to read it. You are always so calm, so collected that my breath catches. I can tell when you're angry. I can tell when you are excited (which is often just a reflection of my own giddiness, projected onto you). But today you are just neutral.

I walk in and pull off my jacket, my fingers trembling with each large, wooden button. But they slip through the holes and I slide it off, a sweet baby blue dress draping my hunched shoulders underneath. I wear thick, woolen grey tights and red Mary Janes, and I already feel over-dressed. It is only moments before I will be stripped bare, but in the moment I feel silly in my clothes.

You motion me over and I practically skip over to stand in front of you, standing between your knees as you sit comfortably.

"Hi Daddy."

"Hi, Baby." I stare, quiet, unable to hide the smile that always accompanies my time with you.

"You saw a boy today, didn't you?" I nod, taking a shallow breath. You knew this all along, knew when I would be with him, knew when I would leave him. I'm sure you could even imagine the things he was doing to me. "Did you have a good time?"

I nod again, a bit afraid. All I want, all I ever want, is to let you know how devoted I am to you. How I ache for you when you are not there. How I think about you when I cum, when I am curled up in a chair, when I am putting a hand between my legs in bed.

"Good girl." I smile, only realizing that I was holding my breath when I release it. "Take your clothes off. Let me see you."

I nod, walking to the side of the chair to slip out of my shoes and pull off my dress. My nipples are already tight and hard. They are darkened from abuse, from use. I know he sees. He knows my body well enough to know. The rest of my skin is generally unmarked. He knows marks are for him and him alone. If he wanted to slice his name into my hip, I would gladly wear it.

I stand in front of you again, hands at my sides with fingers which ache to stroke. I know how soft the fabric of your shirt is and I want to feel it run under the tips of my fingers. I want to feel your firm shoulders, and if I am lucky, the heat of your chest.

Your hands begin to run over me, softly tracing the curves which are yours to devour. Starting with the tips, they become firmer, harder. As they skim down my thighs they begin to squeeze at the flesh. At first it is delicate, exploratory, but quickly it moves to something much more demanding.

I whimper as your rough hands pull and grope my flesh. And then I know.

"Spread your legs."

I do, opening them wide, my pussy open and waiting and wet and used.

"Hands behind your head."

I pull back my arms and look straight ahead, eyes locked and solid as my breath becomes more rapid. You stand and my unfocused eyes remain wet and still.

"Open your mouth."

I drop my jaw. This is where I know you will start. Your fingers begin the inspection, running over my teeth and tongue and gums in long swipes.

"Did you suck his cock?"

I nod, trying  to relax my tongue as you push down, your finger firm and thick.

"Did he fuck your throat?"

I nod again, and feel your index and middle finger push back. I begin to gag, to tremble a little. I can feel my eyes welling with tears as your fingers begin to thrust into my throat and then hold there, pushing slowly until I cough and sputter and try to keep my mouth open. I finally pull back and cough again, and then lean forward, mouth wide. Your fingers resume their investigation.

"Did he cum in your mouth?"

I shake my head, my tongue touching the back of my bottom lip, almost edging over as drool proceeds to drip, running down my chin and chest. You pull your fingers out and wipe them on my chest before your fingers move to my nipples, squeezing them painfully hard. I whimper.

"Do they hurt, baby?"

I nod.

"Tell me what he did."

I nod again, slowly closing my mouth and taking a breath. "He slapped my tits around while he was fucking me. He squeezed the nipples, first the right one and then the left one, and then both together. He used his fingers only, no clothes pins or teeth or anything."

"And did you enjoy it?"

"As much as I enjoy that kind of thing, yes, I did."

You nod and I look up at you, a little nervous. You smile down, lifting your fingers to my chin and pulling my head up. Your kiss is warming. I am safe here, still.

"I'm glad, baby." Your fingers pinch and squeeze my nipples. I wince,  whimper, and hold steady for you. "And tell me how he fucked you."

I nod, taking another breath. "He put his cock in my cunt. First he bent me over and fucked me doggie style. I was on my knees, ass in the air." And I feel your fingers thrust inside my wet cunt, still sore from earlier. I cry out just a little as three thick fingers push inside me. They do not thrust.

"How big was he?"

Your voice drops as your other hand grips my hip, pulling me closer. "Smaller than your fingers inside me right now. But he was rough. He pounded my cunt as hard as he could. I told him I wanted to be sore. I told him to fuck me harder."

Your fingers remain inside twisting, exploring, expanding, contracting. You are touching every spec inside me. They move deeper only, curling here and there to feel more. I know I must be dripping down your hand.

"I was pushing back against him, trying to get him deeper inside me. When I knew he was getting close I pulled back and laid on my back."

You smile and pull me a little closer and i can't help but smile for you, kissing your arm softly the second I am close enough. I always try and do this to you, you know how much I love being on my back when I cum. And unless I've been a good, good girl for you, you always hold my hips in place. Daddy always cums the way he wants, and I would have it no other way.

"And how hard did he fuck you?" Your fingers pull back and slam into my cunt. I can feel the tips of your fingers bruise my cervix and I almost drop my hands. I cry out, trembling a little. I stand up, interlacing my fingers again, and lean into you. "That hard?"

I shake my head. "No... no, Daddy."

You thrust again, a little softer but still firmly. I am already sore, and with the tingling from the last thrust, I shiver with such pure pleasure I can't stifle my own gasp. "That hard, baby?"

"No... not that hard, Daddy..."

I stammer. You thrust again a little softer. "That hard?"

"I... Daddy?"

You smile, knowing exactly what is happening. "Yes, baby?"

"It was that hard... but please fuck me harder... the second one... please?" I look up at you, my breath starting to quicken. You pull your fingers back and thrust harder. My jaw trembles hard, my chest almost seizing as I struggle to breathe through such incredible pleasure. I moan loudly, mouth opening against the fabric of your shirt.

And then your fingers are gone.

I am silent. Struck. "You have to earn that, baby."

I nod. "Anything, Daddy." I practically bark. You cradle my face softly. I lean into the curve of your hand, my eyes closing. Your hand pulls back and smacks me. Hard. I am stunned, but I know to stiffen my neck and hold my head up. My eyes remain closed as your hand begins to come down over and over and over, until my ears begin to ring. I pull back a little and you give me a long moment to regroup. You begin again in a moment, hitting me back and forth across the face until I can feel my cheek start to swell. I try and hold my head but I am shaking. I can only hear my own breath. Your hands continue, back and forth. I try and keep steady but it is becoming increasingly difficult. My eyes are watering, my skin is red and numb, and finally I taste blood in my mouth as my lips slices over my teeth. It will be swollen in the morning as well.

I know you see the crimson when you stop. Your hand comes back to hold my now damaged and broken face. I slowly open my eyes, looking up at you tentatively, but will all the love and warmth I can muster through my exhaustion.

"Thank you, Daddy."

I know he will fuck me. I know I will cum. I know he will cover me in his cum and I will gladly lick it up. And I know that today, tomorrow, and for as many days as I am allowed by nature, I will have the deepest and most glorious and sincere honor of wearing my Daddy's marks on my face. While he has bruised and marked and knicked and hurt me often, the swollen apple of my cheek and the blossoming swell of my lip are the most beautiful gifts he could give me, and the smile I cannot take off my face when I have them is the greatest gift I can give him.

There is nothing in the whole world I want more.