An Echo on the Hill

We decided during our first conversation on the talk line that I would refer to you as "Daddy." That was close to six months ago. It felt so naughty to call you that at first. Every time it was expected of me I hesitated and when I finally did I would blush. But now since we've been communicating so much it's become almost natural to me. Just the low groan that comes across the phone line each time I say it, drives me crazy. And at night without you in my bed, I whisper it to my pillow and let my thoughts warm me instead.

I craved your voice. You grew to realize how aural I am and feasted upon it each time we spoke. Each minor fluctuation in your tone was deliberate and was appreciated by me. You told me that the intimacy we shared in our relationship was new to you. And, I had to admit that yes, it was something I had dreamed about but not something I had much experience with.

Each day around five o'clock in the evening I would dial your telephone number. You worked the first shift at the local Ford plant and so I usually tried to give you enough time when you returned home to eat something and relax a little bit before I called. Since your divorce a couple years prior, you said your life had become so monotonous. All you did was sleep, go to work, and have an occasional run around the track at a nearby fitness club. Over and over you told me that I breathed a new life into you and I prayed it was the truth.

Sometimes when we had finished a session, we would speak of our desire to be together for real. One particular night comes to mind when I think of when things started to take that turn. It was storming and I could hear the raindrops pounding on your tin roof in the back ground of our conversation. It hurt my heart tremendously not to be able to cuddle up with you and keep you company in person, the phone was just not cutting it anymore for us. We reached the point where we knew it was time to take our affair to greater heights.

You had a valid concern that the nineteen years separating us in age would become an issue, but I reassured you that you being forty-two was an attractive quality in my eyes. I had always preferred someone older, it made me feel at ease.

Some might say that I should have met you in a public place the first time, but that idea just didn't suit my tastes even though you did give me the option. I wanted to come to you and enter into your world as I did so many times in my sleep. I trusted you as much as a girl can without actually having been with you. That's just a pitfall of being submissive I guess, always wanting to put yourself into someone else's hands; just hoping that they are strong enough, or care enough, to hold you up and not let you fall.

The Meeting...

Pulling my car into the crunching gravel drive leading up to your house, my heart is pounding in my throat. Your house is in the country, far away from the familiar things that I'm used to. The street light belonging to your neighbor and the glow of the moon are the only two things keeping it from being completely black. My car engine sounds so intrusive echoing up on top of the hill, and I'm in a hurry to turn it off. Rolling up my windows, I give myself a quick glance in the rearview mirror. Was this the craziest thing I've ever done or what. I sit still for a moment, trying desperately to gather my bearings before you see me.

I hear the creek of what sounds like an old, metal screen door to my right. Almost afraid, I turn to see you for the very first time. You're dressed so casually compared to me; wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and a loose fitting pair of jogging shorts. The way you're standing in the doorway, so patiently and even calm , makes me more nervous then ever. You are just holding the door open for me.

After going over the consequences several times in my head of just turning my car back on and burning rubber down the road; I decide against it. Plus, I would hate myself forever if I chickened out now. This is the moment I have been waiting for.

The first step out of my vehicle and onto the drive is a little shaky. My knees feel like pudding. I can't take my eyes from yours. The second and third steps are a little more sure as I slowly make my way up the front walk. No words are spoken as you step aside to let me pass and enter into your living room. The closer I get to you, the more I can feel you. I can feel your eyes, so intense, branding and burning my skin as you look me over slowly. You have one candle burning on the far side of the room. It is so surreal.

I jump as the screen slams shut behind me, sealing the deal. You see my reaction and gently continue on to close the heavy, inside door. I'm standing there so anxiously, shifting from one foot to the next, clutching my purse like it was actually going to save me. You turn from the door and begin to close the gap between us. Unable to think clearly, unable to move, I murmur a weak, "Hello."

About the same time those words pass my lips, your hand comes up to grab a fistful of my hair. Jerking my head back quickly, your other hand sliding around my waist and pulling me firm against you.

"Hello, little girl." I feel your lips, searing and hot crashing down upon my own. Your tongue searching out mine. A long, rough and possessive kiss. A kiss that sends shockwaves of lust straight down between my legs. Your presence is so familiar to me, yet your taste is not. Physically we are strangers.

"Do you give yourself to me, Sara?' you ask, pulling away to look into my face. Your fingers are still twisted and entwined in my soft hair. Your voice a half whisper, almost a hiss. Daring me, along with the look in your eyes, to resist you. I just nod my head in agreement. My words are failing me and we both know it. The tears begin to rim the edges of my eyes, threatening to fall at any given moment. I'm trying so hard to hold them back, even though I know it's what you want from me. I'm trying so hard to be a brave girl for you, but my trembling so betrays me. Your hands trail down the sides of my face to cup it sweetly. My bruised lips responding to yours again, only lovingly this time. The hardness and warmth of your body soothes me so much. I am home. Now it seems you are endlessly stroking my cheeks, planting light kisses across my flushed face.

I'm leaning into you and against you, wanting to feel more of you. Trying to be prideful at this point is hopeless. We both know that I am yours for the taking. Whether you decide to take me into your bed or send me home with just this kiss, I am powerless to stop you. Our eyes are open and our noses are touching. My hard nipples are grazing your chest through both of our shirts. The smokey glaze in my eyes telling you everything you need to know. I trust you. I put my spirit in your hands.

Suddenly you take a step back from me. The tenderness replaced once again by something more primal. Your gaze travels boldly down my body, making me blush to the tips of my toes. Your eyes taking their time on my chest, noticing how my nipples are poking through. You're watching me squeeze my thighs together ever so slightly, knowing I'm trying to quell the ache that's building deep inside my sex.

"Turn around, girl." Your command sends shivers up my spine.

Hesitantly I turn my back to you. My fingers nervously clinging to the sides of my flowery skirt, my knuckles almost white. Both of us are still standing by the door, we've yet to move farther into the room. I know full well that you are inspecting me, letting your eyes feast on the backs of my knees and the shape of my bottom in this skirt. It seems I was holding my breath until you spoke. And when I finally did hear your voice speak to me it was released in a long sigh.

"Okay my little babydoll... Now I would like for you to take those shaky fingers and lift up your skirt. That's it baby...Do it slow...Tease me like I've taught you. Don't be shy... I know you want to show it to me."

Shifting my legs, I slowly slide the flowing material up my thighs from the sides. With every inch I can feel myself becoming more alive. Slowly I reveal my shapely, round ass covered by a thin pair of cotton panties.

"Sara, my sweet little pigeon, do you forget so soon?" The low, mocking tone to your voice putting me on edge. I know that voice so well. You continue, "I would like to think you are not standing there in front of me right now with panties on girl."

A small protest escapes my lips. Turning back around to face you, "I'm so sorry Daddy. I'm just so used to wearing them that I...uhmm...forgot not to."

Watching you just long enough to see the grin beginning to tug at the corners of your mouth. Although I can also see real displeasure too. You come at me again, but this time your hands grab my shoulders and jerk me back around the other way like I was.

"Did I say to turn around young lady?" You're hands are squeezing my shoulders. Almost hurting them.

"No, you didn't Daddy. I'm sorry," I whimper.

"Quit stampering and apologizing, girl, and just do as you're told." You release me and start to take a few steps backwards.

Your voice begins to soften, "Now, I want you to bend over at the waist right there where you are. Keep your skirt pulled up. Part your legs and spread your ankles wide. That's it babydoll, Daddy wants to see his sweet little pussy."

I'm trying to keep my balance and do as instructed, not wanting to disappoint you again this early. A telling wet spot on my panties clearly visible to you.

"Mmm...that's a good girl. Show it to me. Part your legs a little more and push that ass out."

As my thighs spread more and more, the thin crotch of my panties slips in between the swollen lips of my pussy, exposing them to you. That small wet spot growing into a larger one. The moist cotton completely clinging to the inner folds of my cunt; my clit poking through the material.

After somewhat of a long silence, you command me from what sounds like the other side of the room, behind where we were standing. Your voice slightly shaky and farther away, yet still strong. "Come to me, Sara."

I rise up, letting my skirt fall back, and turn to see where you've gone. Your sitting across the room in a big, easy chair. A hand is resting on either knee and each is slightly parted. Your face in the candlelight shadow. I think I saw a movie like this once, and it didn't turn out so well for the girl.

I can hear your breathing as I come closer to your chair; slow, steady, and deep, yet still very heavy in the quiet room. The air conditioner is humming along normally in a distant corner. My own chest is almost heaving. Heaving with excitement, pure fear, and pure lust.

I approach you steadily, hips swaying seductively. My dark, red hair falling loose around my shoulders and tickling the top of my ass. I walk up in between your knees and smoothly sit my bottom down on your right one, placing myself lovingly in your lap. A hand comes around to softly stroke my long curls, the other boldly caressing the insides of my thighs, kneading them almost painfully. I'm fully aware of the heat of your leg pressed into my softness, and you're aware of the wetness soaking through the leg of your thin shorts. My hips slowly beginning to rock back and forth, my body is moving on it's own accord.

"My sweet little angel, I finally have you all warm and snugged on my lap. How do you feel?"

"Happy," I say smiling at you.

"Mmm...that's good baby. Daddy wants his little girl to be very happy, just like she wants him to be happy, right Sara?" I already knew where this was leading.

Shaking my head sweetly," Yes, Daddy, I always want to make you happy."

"Good. Okay so about this panty business. What do you suppose we do about it, Hmm?" Your hand reaches inside my thighs and under my skirt. I feel you sliding a finger behind the damp crotch of my panties, barely touching my shaved lips as you do. The hand that was stroking my hair now forcing my face to look at you, as you roughly tug on the cotton fabric down below. My legs automatically spreading for you. A wanton moan escapes my lips as I begin to chew on my lower one like a child in trouble might do.

You're looking into me, past my eyes into my soul. "Sara, you can wear panties when you're alone, out in public, or just hanging out with friends...But, NOT when you're with me... Unless I specially ask you to of course. I thought I made that very clear to you." Your cock is steadily pressing into the side of my left, bare thigh as I sit there. It's very hard and I can even feel it pulsing slightly. My skin is burning where it is touching, even through your shorts. Wanting more that anything to feel that heat in my hands.

You continue on. " I don't care if when you're not with me you are all prim and proper, buttoning your blouse to the top button and wearing skirts to your knees. And I don't care, if on the other hand, you're wild and wearing black leather. But, little girl when you are with me you are one thing...My whore...My open legged fucktoy. Do you understand that?"

We're staring directly into each other's eyes. And somewhere during your lecture, that finger had stop tugging at my panties and had slipped underneath them. I felt it running so gently up and down my juicy slit, teasing my submitted cunt as you told me of my place.

"Yes Sir, I understand," was all I could murmur. The tip of your index finger now flicking my engorged clit back and forth very quickly, making my knees shake.

"Yes, what? Say it girl "

My voice now low and husky, quivering uncontrollably, "Yes, Sir, I know that with you I am a whore. I'm your open legged fucktoy." Those familiar sensations were washing over me completely. Everything in the room, everything in the world was beginning to vanish and all I could focus on was your voice and of course, your touch.

"Whose whore are you, Sara?" I feel your lips searching out my neck, nuzzling it a little bit. Your one hand still entwined in my hair, drawing me against your chest. I can feel the steady beating of your heart as I'm pressed to you, so intense and on purpose it is. "Come on and tell me whose whore you are baby," you whisper hotly in my ear.

My hips are rocking boldly on your lap. My ass is wriggling around and I"m trying to push my pussy into your hand, needing more of it. I'm completely panting at this point. My nipples aching and obscenely visible through both my bra and my blouse, making it quite clear that my next statement was the honest truth.

"Ohh...Daddy...I'm YOUR whore." I feel your breath catch in your throat.

Firmly wrapping your hand around the back of my neck, you push me forward over your knee. I bring my legs back around behind me, laying across your other knee, knowing exactly what you want. My belly is resting across your maleness, the hardness poking into me and making me groan.

"You feel that, angel? You feel how hard Daddy's little whore has made his cock?"

You position me just like we've talked about a hundred times before. I'm on my tummy over your knee. The big chair a comfortable and perfect place for this scene. My breasts are hanging over the arm along with the rest of my upper half and my hair is falling forward over my head. At first, my instinctual reaction is to just open my thighs for you, wanting your hands to touch and your eyes to see my cunt. My bottom lifting up, begging for what I suspect is in my future.

I jump as I finally feel your fingertips lightly brushing the backs of my smooth thighs, trailing up and down teasingly. I'm enjoying your touch even more as they travel up over my still covered ass and then down into my wetness, cupping my pussy in your hands. The wanton gasps of pleasure escaping me are hard to control. You're just holding my moist sex, applying gentle pressure. Your cock is pulsing underneath my belly. For a moment my existence has frozen, everything is so still around us. I slowly become aware during this time of the soft rain falling outside. I hope I rolled my windows up.

Hearing the rip of the fabric before actually feeling it, all in one swift motion you tear the cotton panties from my body. So forceful and demanding this act; my skin being burned from it. I let out a scream caused from the disruption and pain brought on by the quick rip you bring next to the waistband.

Before I can regain my composure and without you saying a word, your hand comes crashing down onto my round cheek. A tear runs out of my eye and drips off the tip of my nose onto the floor below. You're squeezing my broad, round ass after each blow, massaging it with such a contrast to the stinging of your slaps. Little bruises from each fingertip are being left on my red skin from your kneading of it.

"Now that your ass is bare and warmed, little girl, I want you to count each time I spank you. And I want to hear the wetness in your cunt in your voice. Let me hear it... nice and loud. If I'm not pleased we're starting over from the beginning. Okay, slut?"

"Yes, Daddy. Oh God," I gasp.

"Ready?" you ask.

"I said YES " My voice coming out maybe a bit too forcefully.

Your cupped hand crashes down onto my tender bottom. "One...," I moan out of pleasure.

"Two."

"Three," My voice muffled by pain.

"Sara, I didn't hear you...," you say. "Again."

"Three " By now I'm practically shouting.

"Four."

"Very good, baby. Keep counting," you reassure.

"Five." My ass starting to burn so hotly. I know that at ten I will be in agony. Going over that split second decision of slipping on panties over and over in my head.

"Six."

"Seven...Ohh God please."

"Please what, slut?" you hiss at me. Your punishment continuing on.

"Eight." Your hand landing hard once again, but this time sliding down to my pussy afterwards. My wetness covering it. My hips bucking up at the feel of it rubbing me. Completely humiliated that you know how much I am enjoying this.

"Nine." This blow striking when my butt is pushed out. My lungs feeling as if they are going to burst. The number coming out in a scream.

"Ten." My voice not even forming in my throat. Your firm hand meeting not my ass, but my sex. My engorged clit taking the full brunt of the slap. "Daddy "

My body is lying limp over your lap, weak and helpless. I'd always taunted you about being able to take the full brunt of your punishment when the time came but now after only ten spanks, I was defeated completely. Maybe it was from built up frustration or excitement, but you had shown me no mercy. You couldn't remember a time when you'd ever been so hard on a woman. Clenching your fist up in a ball, trying to quell the ache in your palm.

Tenderness washes back over you as you feel me shaking and hear my whimpers. Your rough fingers gently caressing my abused flesh, trying to soothe what they have just inflicted upon it.

Spanning the back of my waist with your hands, you give me some assistance in rising up. My legs sliding down between yours and onto the floor. Your strong arms encircle and catch me as I start to slide with them and you pull me back up to you.

"Wrap your legs around me, Sara," you whisper.

I comply, stretching them out and back around behind your body in the chair. My arms automatically slide around your head, pulling it to my bosom. My red bottom feeling your light affection. I'm quietly sobbing from the strong emotion of it all, the pain already overpowered by it. Such a tender embrace. You smell so right and there is nowhere in the whole world I would rather be than here with you.

Your face is buried into my skin, breathing me in. Running my fingers through your long, soft hair just playing with it so sweetly. I want to make you feel so cared for.

"Just let Daddy hold you, baby." Your voice catching in your throat just long enough for me to notice. I smile.