Late for Work

She was dressed only in her plain white cotton bra and a skirt when he called her for breakfast. She was frustrated she could not find her favorite blouse and rubbed at the dark circles under her eyes.

Picking through the massive pile of clothing she found a gray tank top with a stain on one side. Wrinkling her nose at it, she sighed and threw it down as he called for her again.

Coming up the hallway, she ducked into the kitchen long enough to make up their tea. The toast was his assumed job, but she did it anyway. She was feeling groggy, while she slept well the hot of the July day was looming.

He stared at her creamy white skin as she walked across the small living room to the dinette, the two mugs of tea steaming in each hand. Light from the dawning sun streamed through the Venetian blinds in soft pinks and oranges and bathed her as she walked, giving her body a series of horizontal stripes.

His mouth watered slightly, the grizzled stubble from his unshaven face giving him a gritty visage. He stood up, seeing her hands were full and went to get the toast.

Putting it on the cutting board, he called out:

"Babe? What do you want on your toast?"

"Butter and honey," she said absently, drinking her tea.

He looked at the plastic bear of honey, its thick golden gooiness drizzling in thin stripes on the toast over the rapidly melting butter. He pondered the matter and then put the toast, with the honey on the cutting board and brought the whole thing in.

He set the board in the middle of the table, and leaned over her, softly stroking her silken chestnut hair, his lips tenderly grazing her forehead.

She leaned up and their lips met tenderly, with soft, gentle kisses. She did not notice his hand reaching for the bottle. She did not see his thumb flip the cap open. She felt his left hand grab her hair firmly as his tongue slipped into her mouth, invading it softly.

Then she felt the drip on the cleavage. She was puzzled, and then the drip turned into a run. She squirmed, but he held her firm. She would be the first to admit she liked to be dominated, but was defiantly caught off guard.

The sticky honey ran across the bra line and into her cleavage, and caused her to quiver ever so softly. He loved the way that she squirmed in his grasp, it turned him on, and his erection started to form.

They broke the kiss and she saw the container and looked down.

"Greg, look at this, mess," she cried.

He pulled her hair back, causing her to squeal, and dove his mouth into the golden sweetness. The sensation of his soft lips, hard teeth, and short bristle of hair hit her bust and her body betrayed her as she gasped, and giggled.

Her sweetened flesh he sucked into his mouth, passionately biting her, gently at first, then harder, and harder. She winced, struggled, eventually the pain was too great, and she tapped on his back a few times. He eased off with his mouth, and returned to his licking. Her eyes watched his tongue as it flickered across her ample bosom, and saw the bruise begin to form.

He felt her eyes, and her breathing, the warmth of her flesh, and his dick began to harden. He stood up, her hair still in his hand, in a much more relaxed manner. When he looked into her eyes, they were afire.

"I think you're going to be late to work, my pet." He said.

He paused for a moment, and read her face carefully. They did not often do such things, and she had a special code word to stop it. Like the tapping on his back, it was a signal that told him whether she really wanted to play.

Instead of using the code word, she teased him, "well daddy, I don't know..."

He yanked her hair back, causing her mouth to flail open.

"Don't know? Little girl, let us understand something, shall we?" He hissed. "I own you. I own every inch of your white flesh, every hair on your head. I am your owner, your lord, your master, do you understand this?"

He head quivered slowly in her hands, and he saw the spark in her eye.

"If I say you're going to be late," he growled, "you're going to be late."

She composed herself for just as long as it took her to say, "Yes sir."

He fished his cock out and slammed it into her mouth.

Greedily she sucked on it, as he fucked her face, his penis rubbing up against the palette of her mouth, his warm glans filling her face. Her eyes glazed, and she felt emotionally safe at this point as he humped at her.

Her hands reached up to his cock and softly cradled his clean-shaven testicles, softly roaming her fingers against the sack. He moved his head away to let her pleasure her more and she pulled her mouth off and started actually licking up and down the shaft.

He growled at her, "That's my good little girl."

She nodded only enough to go a little lower, her tongue softly playing against he fiery hot balls. She stroked him all the while, the liquid from her saliva and his preseminal fluid causing his tool to take on a satiny sheen the light of the dawn.

He pulled away from her a bit more, to assert his control, and she pouted at him.

"Call in, little one. Tell your daycare you're going to be late today."

Her lower lip trembled, and she did not move.

His eyes bored into her, "what did daddy tell you do? Hm?"

"Yes sir," she replied and stood.

She went over to the wall mounted cordless phone and pulled it off. She punched numbers at the phone, and then snatched it from her grasp as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Yes, this is Mister Duncan. I am Miss Lee's Daddy. I am calling to you inform you that she will be running late. She has been a bad girl this morning and I will have to punish her before she comes in. Yes. Yes. Thank you, Jacque."

She went pale her mouth gaping. Jacque was her boss's lead.

He put the phone back in its case and grabbed her hand, twisting it back, "and you do deserve that punishment, my little one. Daddy gave you an instruction and what did you do? You just sat there!"

She made a small, quiet squeaking noise.

"Well young lady? What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Nothing." She replied meekly.

He spun her like a dancer and yanked her with him to couch, sitting down, laying her over his lap.

"Count with me, little one."

She gulped a quick, "yes daddy."

His hand reached down her beautiful, hand-sewn skirt and lifted it up. Her adult sized sailor moon panties stared up at him and he smiled, yanking them down, just past her perk asshole. He loved her butt, and loved spanking her butt, probably as much as she enjoyed being spanking.

His hand whooshed, the flat of it striking both cheeks simultaneously, and he felt her shudder as she bleated a, "one daddy."

Over, and over he struck, until he got to five. She was weeping softly, not because of the pain, but because she had disappointed him, and to her, that was a deeper, far more dark shame than any spanking or public humiliation.

"On your knees. Show daddy how much you love him."

She moved off his lap like a cat and buried her head between his legs. Softly her lips sucked the head of his cock and she stroked with her hand until she tasted his preseminal fluid start to flow. At that point, she changed tactics and then would look him in the eye, stroke the fluid out of his cock, and lick at it, in a long, tantalizing swipe of her tongue. Dregs of the clear fluid and her saliva ran from the tip of his dick to her lips.

He was close, and she knew it. Once he had cum, she would be safe from his wrath.

He surprised her and pushed her head back.

"Stand up and bend over." He ordered.

She quivered her breasts swinging down, still covered by the sticky cloth prison.

Her tight pucker was the first thing he saw, and then he lowered her panties to about mid-thigh.

He then saw the bane of her existence, her greatest shame.

Her penis.

She was a preoperative transsexual, not that it made any difference to him, with her surgery so close, but he knew it drove her in ways that were incomprehensible to him. When he exposed her ass he commented in a manner that he knew would comfort her.

"I want your butt this morning, little one." He said.

Her cheeks were burning red from the spanking, and he parted them, his long probing tongue burning itself into her nether hole, moving back and forth, pumping into her as if it were a cock all of it's own. She gasped and her eyes closed taking in all of the pleasures of his mouth, his chewing, his licking, his lubrication.

His hands grabbed at her hips and she lost balance.

"Clumsy girl," he growled in her ear. He pulled her back, on his lap, the tip of his cock pushed against her sphincter. He felt the incredible tug of her tightness and then growled, slamming all seven inches into her at once.

She yelped gasping in pain as his thickness invaded her ass, as he brutally began to fuck her. Between the spanking, the demeaning, and the ass fucking, the endomorphs in her body were high and she felt so warm, so loved. When he moaned in her hear, she then felt incredibly sexual, highly charged and able to give him the pleasure he deserved.

He ground his hips into her, guiding with one hand as he reached around her front and softly touched the tip of her diminutive phallus. She was gushing preseminal fluid and controlled her pleasure now completely, literally fucking her from the front and behind. It put a smile on his face to know that she enjoyed their special, private times.

Her legs began to quiver as he thrust faster and faster into her, making a sultry slapping noise. Her hands grabbed at her sticky breasts and twisted the nipples hard, bringing her to another layer of pain and pleasure. This in turn caused her ass to pucker all the more, and he responded to this by firing a hot load of his thick daddycum into her little girl bottom.

She squealed and gushed all over his fingers, spraying them while feeling the semen drip out of her butt, her legs and thighs trembling, and she convulsed slightly as she came again, only slightly less powerfully.

Only when she sighed did he pull her atop him, and softly but his bristly moustache rubbed against her ear.

"Daddy loves his little girl." He said.

"Little girl loves her daddy." She replied.