Shiny, Pretty Things

When Daddy comes in, a smile already on his face, I am half asleep, having woken once and been tempted by the book beside my bed. My legs are wrapped in a sheet, half exposed, half tangled in soft toile. My cheek is pressed into the page of a book, I can feel my body twitch and my eyes flutter as the door opens.

He sits on the edge of the bed, placing down a box and pushing my hip just slightly to roll me over onto my back. I greet him with a face-contorting yawn and blinking as I feel his hand squeeze my flesh softly.

"Morning, Daddy."

"Morning, Princess. Good book?"

I nod, allowing my eyes to adjust and pushing it aside. (It was, actually, a very good book.) I lay back on my pillows, hands under my head.

"I have something for you." He says. I smile as I rub my eyes and yawn again.

"Yeah?" He looks more excited than usual, and I can only imagine what awaits me.

"Let's get you dressed for the day."

I nod, laying completely prone as his hands reach to the top of the one thing that I'm wearing - soft sheer panties. They are delicate, cream colored with the smallest of pink bows at the front. And while I would shy from such a delicate word, in this morning light with my Daddy's large hands so delicately looping under the hem, they are barely a scrap of gossamer tht he is pulling down until I am bared and naked.

His hands run back up my legs. I know the order. Stockings are already sitting beside the bed and he takes one, softly maneuvering it to put on one leg. I bend my right leg at the knee, lifting my foot until it strokes Daddy's arm. I can see his stomach pinch a little under his shirt as he breath catches just slightly. My pussy is opening as I run my calf over the skin of his arm, slowing when I reach the ankle, letting that little nub flick over the soft arc of his bicep.

Finally I turn my leg slightly, opening a bit more as I retoate my knee, and my leg along with it. While my cunt is exposed, it's growing wetness beginning to sparkle, this is not what my Daddy is feeling or noticing. It is the top of my foot as it runs over his skin, softly, stroking his arm down to the painted toes, and then back up, stroking him.

I run my leg back down before he takes the foot in his hand, biting the ankle, letting his teeth graze. I feel a shiver and giggle, catching his eyes with mine. This is one of those moments. This is one of those moments where the names and nicknames and everything falls away for a split second. My eyes soften, and the corners of my lips fall out of a giggling and into a relaxed satisfaction, and my breath escapes me.

I close my eyes and smile, and I feel him kiss the side of my foot again before taking it and sliding one stocking all the way up my leg. The backs of his fingers run on opposite sides of my calf and inner thigh before the slightest tug. There are  goosebumps on my thighs which I know he feels.The other stocking slides, his hands stroking my legs up and down.

Finally he reaches for the box and I can't help but wiggle with glee. I know already the shape and size, and before the lid comes off, I am excited. The lid is placed on the nightstand and inside are the shiniest pair of red, high-heeled Mary Janes that I have ever seen. I gasp, giddy and wiggling and I see his eyes brighten.

"Daddy!"

"Yes, baby?"

"I love!" I sit up, stroking the stockings back up into place. I lean forward, kissing his shoulder, softly, turning my head to let the tip of my nose run over his arm softly as I begin to whisper. "Put them on me, Daddy?"

He nods, pulling one shoe out from its nestling of paper with a welcome crinkle. He takes my stockinged foot into his lap and I cannot help but curling it to just touch the growing erection in his pants. He doesn't hide it from me, letting me touch it softly as his fingers unbuckle. I can sense the slightest tremor and I swell, along with my clit, knowing what is happening.

I run my toes over him again before he takes my foot and slide it into the shoe, buckling it. He holds my leg, squeezing the calf and ankle and letting his fingers run over the shiny, cheery red patent leather. His fingers linger and stick over the shoe, running his fingers over the lip where it meets my skin. After a long minute I pull it back, shifting and placing my other foot into his lap.

"The left one, Daddy." My voice is just above a whisper, but there is no question mark in my tone. It is just a statement. I would never say a command, but simply a directive for what is next.

He takes my foot and slides it into the other shoe, stroking the arch, the heel. I lift it softly to his arm, up to his face.

"Kiss it, Daddy." I hear his voice catch and I know he is fighting a wider smile. I know. And he knows. And he knows that I know. "Daddy, kiss it."

He leans forward, placing his lips on the buckle, the metal kissing him back coldly. I do not move my leg. "Again, Daddy." He laughs again, hesitating, not because he doesn't want to but because he does. I can see him getting harder.

I lean back on my elbows, still only in the stockings and shoes. His hesitation will be short lived. It will always be unspoken that a good babygirl always has her Daddy wrapped around her red-painted finger, and though sometimes there is the charade, the farce of begging and want, even Humbert knew that while he drove, Lo could always take the wheel.

"Kiss it again, Daddy." My voice is chalk, just above a whisper but with intention where the ephemeral could be. He leans in and kisses it again, this time on the cheery red. I can feel my pussy starting to soak. I strok his face softly with the shoe, letting him kiss it again.

"Kiss the heel, Daddy." My other foot comes up to sit against his lap, the clean edge of the tan sole now stroking up and down over the bulge straining in his pants. His lips find the heel, and I see the tip of his tongue running over over it as he still holds my ankle in his large, controlled hands. If he wished, those controlled hands could easily grab both legs and push them back and he could fuck me until I was in tears right now. He could easily slap me across the face for this and I would not begrudge him that. But that is not the balance, and the balance is delicate.

"Daddy, am I your Princess?" I watch him enjoy the feeling of the patent leather. I can see him reveling in the shape, the stroking of skin against thick, new, unforgiving leather.

"Yes, honey. You're my Princess." His voice is here but gone as he strokes and kisses. I continue to flick over his cock. I want it hard. I want it aching. I want it to strain and throb.

I watch as his tongue strokes the heel, I feel him push against my other foot. He squeezes the patent leather and I groan softly. "Then show me, Daddy. Kiss me here."

I shift back and open my legs, pulling my knees back. He places a hand on the top of each foot and pushes them back a little more, opening me up a little more as he leans down and begins to lick my clit. I tremble, pushing my hips up into his mouth. When I react, he pushes harder into my pussy, taking my swollen clit into his mouth. I writhe and gasp against him. I will cum in his mouth, I will feel my cunt drip, juices running down my ass. I will scream and whimper and gasp and collapse under his tongue and mouth. I will arch off the bed and cum for him until I cannot breathe.

And during all of this, his hands will never leave the top of either shoe.

I hate that this makes me cum

I have this image that I can't get out of my head, probably because I hate the feeling so much.

I am on my back, but you have my hair in your hand, squeezing it tightly. My heels are touching, legs splayed. You have told me not to move, and I know the second those heels come apart, the world will only get worse. My fingers are interlaced behind my neck, elbows touching the bed behind me.

You are leaning over me, holding my head up just enough to be close to your face. You stare down and there is only the marriage of coldness and playfulness that make you look sadistic. I lean up and playfully bite at your lips, knowing it will only bring out more from you.

You fingers are on my pussy, lips open and ready for you. I can feel your cock get harder against my leg as you rub just slightly, just enough for my clit to respond, and begin smacking my cunt hard. I brace, tightening my mouth as your firm hand comes down over and over and over. I scream, but it only makes you pull my hair harder.

Without missing a beat you shove your fingers into my cunt, which is neither wet nor wanting. I am tight, and two of your fingers stretches and probably tears just enough to see blood soon. You fuck until I push back and then pull them out, going back to smacking my pussy, making my clit sting and ache.

I whimper and scream faster, wanting to pull my hands away and shove you off. There is no game. There is no reward. There is no punishment. There is simply your want to hurt and get hard and I am your toy to use.

I fucking hate this feeling. I wince every time your hand comes down with a firm smack on my clit and cunt. There is no pleasure. There is simply suffering through.

There was no build up, no experiment. You simply told me to get naked, lay down and put my heels together. I never see you more raw than when you are simply seeing a desire and filling it. I want to be that toy for you.

You continue to smack, going from rubbing my clit, to hitting my cunt over and over and over, knowing how painful it is, knowing how much I want it to stop and I know that it will go on as long as you will it so, to fucking my dry pussy with your fingers harder.

I hold my fingers tight, screaming and trying to fight the urge to spit in your face. I will suffer this. I have no choice. My cunt belongs to you, and while I love being fucked and used and touched, you are entitled to this as well. And I will gladly give. I will fight, and you will watch my face contort. I hate this feeling. I hate this pain. But I will gladly give you everything I can muster. If only to prove that I am worth your ownership.

Perfect Subject

When I arrive, I know he is already prepared. There are no pleasantries. There are no arms coming around me, no lips on mine. There are only shadows from where the street lights are coming in the windows.

"Step in and take off your clothes, Subject."

I do not speak. I have not been asked a question. I take off my boots and socks, baling them into the left, and place the against the wall. I hang up my coat on the hanger which is now as naked as I will be. I strip off my dress, hanging it below the coat, and slide my ring and necklace over the neck. My bra Is slid under the dress to hang as well. He knows quite well I no longer wear panties.

"Excellent." I hear a slight click and a light comes on. His coffee table is pulled out. There are a few candles, matches, a pen and his cane. It is a thin bamboo, slightly curved already, with red rope wrapped around the end. Below the table is a pillow. "Walk towards it and kneel with your hands behind your head."

I nod, but again do not speak before I stride over. I hold my head up, though my lips remain in a straight line parallel to the floor. I look straight ahead to the table, pulling out the pillow and kneeling on it. I sit on my legs, feet tucked underneath me, back perfectly straight and elbows splayed as I interlace my fingers behind my head.

"Subject?"

"Yes, Researcher?" I hear him smile and I cannot help but return with a curl in my lips. I can almost hear him growing hard in his pants, even if I still cannot see him.

I want to see him.

"You are going to complete a puzzle for me. I am going to time you. Each round will become more difficult. Do you understand, Subject?"

"Yes,  Researcher."

My eyes slowly adjust to the light,pupils dilating to take in all I can, provide me with all I need for this puzzle.

A black book is placed in front of me. The pen is tempting, and I stare at it, imagining how fast I can pick it up.

"Whern you are finished, put the pen down and put your hands back behind your head."

I keep my eyes forward. I hear him pull the timer out of his pocket.

"You have five minutes. Open to the first page when I tell you and begin." There is a long moment where all I can hear is my breath. "Go."

I unlace my fingers and dive into the book, hearing him click as I see the logic puzzle on page one. She I was studying for the LSATs, I would do these logic games as a treat. I would speed through the reading and comprehension, always keeping my eyes on the prize of these silly games. They were the shortest part of the test, but they quickly became my salvation when I would hate the test and myself, and I knew I could go no further.

My eyes squint, trying to read the clues, pressing my pen into the blocks, making notations, crossing out impossibilities. I look up at him and see that he has as much fire and curiosity in his eyes as I do.

I place down the pen, only a few more answers to go and grab for the matches. I light the candles and slide them to the book and realize only then that the paper is slightly darker, the ink slightly lighter than a typical notebook and type. This was my first challenge.

I finish, slamming down the pen and relaxing my fingers.

He comes over reading through the answers as the timer still runs.

"Perfect, Subject."

I smile. Proud.

"Page two. Go."

I am caught off guard as I fly into the second page and seea. Diferent game, something with numbers, staring me in the face. The directions are simple and i read through them before I begin to fill in boxes, darting around the page. I again pull the candles closer, slamming the pen down and replacing my fingers. He checks my work and again rewards me.

He tells me to stand and I immediately comply. The pillow is removed. "Kneel again, knees as far open as you can go. I want your cunt on the floor if possible."

I slide my knees apart, my clit maybe. An inch from the hardwood underneath. When I have gone as far as I can go, I interlace my fingers, feeling the insides of my knees painfully wilting into the floor.

He slams the book down on the table again. "Go." I begin the third puzzle, shifting already from one to the other. I am a third of the way through the puzzle when he takes one of the candles. I squint a little tighter to continue on. As I reach the second third of the puzzle, pleased with my progress, I feel a burning sting of hot wax being poured down my spine and I scream, losing all focus. My eyes shut and my fingers tighten around the pen in hand. When I open my eyes, I see a scrawl across the page where I dragged the pen without realizing.

I open my eyes and struggle to finish, this time coming precariously close to the beep of the final time. He checks my work. My fingers trembling as they remain interlaced.

"Perfect." I have begun to sweat from the pain. "Get up on your knees a few, but only rise a few inches.

I nod, shifting upward as he pulls out a large, curved dildo and slides it into my cunt without lube or hesitation. I tremble a little as my pussy adjusts to the size. He slowly begins to fuck me with it. I moan softly rocking forward against it, trying to angle it perfectly in my pussy.

He stops, placing the wide base on the floor. "Lower back down."

I slide down, feeling it rise deeper and deeper inside of me. The book is droped back in front of me with a start. "Go."

I can't help but pulse softly on the cock entering my pussy. It shift a slightly on the ground. I am slower on this puzzle than any yet. I languish over the answers, unable to put the words together in a meaningful way.

When I hear the beep, I can taste the end but it remains illusory. I look at him, terrified.

"Stand, hands on the table." I nod, standing, pulling the dildo from my cunt and letting a string of cum connect us until I am almost fully arisen, feet still shoulder width apart, hands still clasped shins my head. As I pull my hands forward, detangling them from my hair, I know exactly what is to come and I feel my breaths get deeper. I bend at the waist, spreading my feet just enough, arching my back. "Subject, how much longer do you need to finish the puzzle?"

I think. I do not want to ask for too much, but I do not want to leave myself with this position again. "90 seconds." I finally say confidently.

"Each came stroke is 10 seconds. How many would you like?"

"I shall take an even ten." I have ten strokes before. I am even more confident.

He nods, pausing only slightly before a solid, raw stripe of pain and fire come across my ass. I almost buckle, not having expecting this. There will be no play, no crescendo, and no peak, I finally realize. The second comes down fearlessly, and I know that my skin will be split by ten. He usually strokes me as he canes me, the touch of his skin and the warmth of his hands bringing down my heartrate. But not tonight.

Three, four, and five come down before I begin to blur, slipping into something that is not here but not gone.

"Kneel again." It takes me a long moment to realize he has spoken, let along know what he has has. "Subject." He says a little louder. I nod, my neck re-learning to hold up my head. I kneel back down, legs again splayed if not wider, hands going back behind my head.

There is a moment where I hear the stiltedness in his voice crack. "You are close to the end, Subject." I nod and the book comes back down again, open to the page. "100 seconds, go."

I grab the pen and re-read what I have already filled it. My mind begins to re-emerge from the fog of his cane and I fill in the rest of the blank spaces, leaving plenty of time to spare.

He pauses. I know he is not giving me a break so my mind focuses on hearing what he is planning. He does not move. I can hear his breath, which is slightly ragged in and of itself. He is waiting for something I cannot see and I do not know and I am, for the first time, afraid.

After a long minute, as the tenderness in my ass begins to make me twitch I hear him more. This was what he was waiting for. My discomfort. The inside of my knees are bruised, and the more I shift right to left, the more I agitate the thin red stripes across my ass. I realize that I am wincing only after I hear his breath quake. I look up at him. I narrow my eyes, I see the bulge in his pants, swollen. I open my lips, letting my breath drip over them. I want him to be caught off guard. I want him to be as captivated by his own arousal as I am by him.

The book comes down again and I am about to dive for the pen. "Stand as you were before." I take a deep breath and stand, bending over, my knee caps thankful. "Go."

I turn to the page, speeding through the directions as I arch my back into something more comfortable. At the ten second mark he begins again with his cane and I whimper loudly. I read the directions, almost starting over when he hits me again. every ten seconds another stroke comes down across my ass. They are steady. They are calm. They are unforgiving and unceasing. The skin on my ass is slatted in red stripes and the skin begins to go numb as my knees begin to get weak. My head is floating and my pen strokes show it. They are becoming airy, disjointed, unimpressively bubbling.

I finish and place the pen down and my hands on the edge of the table. He puts down the cane and I remain standing, not sure how much more I can take from him.

"Your last puzzle, Subject." I nod. I don't know how my knowledge of this this will change the outcome of the experiment. The book, for the first time, remains on the table.

He lifts the dildo, and my feet open a little wider as he rubs the opening of my pussy with it. I push down into it, letting the swollen head of plastic enter me with a jolt. He steps behind and begins to thrust it heartily into my pussy.

As he says go, I grab the pen and the pain is gone. There is only me and this puzzle. It is the same kind as I saw on the first page. My hips may shift towards the dildo entering me, then pulling out, becoming more and more coated in my cum. And though I don't hear it in this state, his zipper comes down and with the other hand he pulls out his cock and shoves it firmly into my ass. I feel him bend over me slightly, my head swimming and my hand dropping the pen.

"Oh God." I shiver as he begins to fuck both my holes. I grip the edge of the table for balance. His breath jolts against my back as he slams his hips into my red, pained ass.

I tremble as I pick the pen back up, struggling not to move enough to read and to begin answering the questions. I plug information into box after box, struggling to keep it together enough to finish, as does he. He pumps harder and faster into both my ass and my pussy. I struggle to rock back and forth between focus and sensation. The more I struggle, the tighter I am, the more it hurts. I struggle to steady my breath, at moments even counting as I inhale or exhale to keep my heart from exploding in my chest. I struggle to open my legs to get him deeper inside me.

As I finish the puzzle I feel him begin to cum, and as the pen comes down to write the final few words, colors of necklaces worn by six women on different days to different parties, I feel his hot jizm fill my ass. I whimper as he pulls out and I feel it begin to run down my inner thigh. The dildo leaves my cunt with an unceremonious wretch. I whimper, hands trembling on the edge of the desk and he puts his cock back in his pants.

"You may kneel, Subject." I nod as the pillow is placed back down on  the floor and I kneel, legs flaring out, hands going behind my head. It takes everything to stay in this position, holding myself upright, feeling his cum drip out of my ass and onto the feet tucked under me. He checks the puzzle diligently, his breath ragged and his face flushed. He will not touch me until the moment, the experiment is over. I wait, swaying a little bit in my lost fog, waiting to be judged and weighed and found. My breath comes down as his eyes pour over each puzzle one more time.

"Perfect, Subject." I cannot help but smile. He takes a long pause, his face, his voice softening. "Good girl."