Daddy Hunts Me

This story contains BDSM. Actions described are between consenting adults.

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But how will I know?

"You'll just know."

I replayed the words in my head 100 times after he said them. It all started the day after he had growled at me. There we were in bed, his cock buried as deep inside me as deep can be, and I'd heard it. A low, rumbling noise from his throat that made me tighten around him and gasp in his ear. So primal. So threatening. So powerful.

"Maybe next time, I will have you put up a fight."

I still grow wet and tight at the thought of it, of being his prey, for real, struggling and fighting. And of what would happen when I lost. But, how would I know? Every time we were together after that, it was in the back of my mind. Today is our day together, Daddy is coming over to my house for a change, and I've just finished putting away the laundry when I hear the door close and the lock click as he turns it.

I am halfway down the stairs when I look down and our eyes meet, and at the very same moment realize that he was right. I just know. His eyes shine, and a low growl comes from his throat as he takes the stairs two at a time. Time slows, just for a moment, as I turn, scrambling up the stairs, knowing there's no way I'll be fast enough. My heart is pounding in my chest, and a high pitched sound escapes my throat as I reach the hallway and start to turn.

I scream as his hand grasps my ankle, so hard and sudden that I almost trip - almost. I hop on my other foot, grabbing the edge of the railing with my fingers for leverage, and pulling, but he is on me. He growls again, then low in his throat, commanding and firm.

"Stay."

I feel something bubbling up in my throat, but I can't tell right away if it is another scream or a laugh, and it comes out some strange animal mixture of the two. Fuck stay. My other leg is still free, and I am going to use it. I kick, and my foot connects with the side of his stomach, and for a second I almost feel bad because I know he's sensitive there, and then the fear of how much trouble I'll be in for that takes over, and I push him back, loosening his grip on my ankle just enough.

I move towards my room, but I'm not fast enough. This time, his arm snakes around both legs, and I am lucky that I'm close to the bed because I go down, hard. My knees smash into the side of my mattress, and then onto the floor, and suddenly his knee is between my legs and he thrusts it right up into my cunt, I yelp and wiggle as his knee connects, hard, once, twice, three times. I reach behind me, trying to push him away, twisting around. His hand wraps around my wrist and I pull, using the leverage to turn my body, and I don't know what I'm doing until it's done, but I hiss and then I spit at him.

He bares his teeth and his eyes darken, and I know that I've gone too far, but I don't care. I kick my leg again, aiming between his legs. He catches my foot between his thighs and then falls on me like a predator, his full weight on me, holding me, and he slaps me so hard I see stars and for a moment all I hear is the ringing in my ears and the blood rushing inside me. A tear runs down my face, and he leans in close, breathing on me, and licks it off, slowly, deliberately, tasting my pain.

He reaches behind him, and his hands come back with a length of rope. I wiggle and buck beneath him, knowing once the rope is on I'm finished, and he's won. I manage to free one of my legs, and push it into his stomach, throwing him off balance. Before I know it, his hand is on my throat, he's grabbed my collar and pulled tight and as I lose my oxygen, the room starts to darken, and the blood rushing in my ears grows louder. Then, darkness.

I wake, gasping for breath, to his knee on one arm and his rope already coiled around one wrist. I pull suddenly, and my hand moves, but he grabs the rope in one hand as his other hand comes down on my face, pressing it into the mattress.

"You're only making it worse, girl."

I whimper, but I claw at him with my free hand.

"I said no."

He pulls my wrist hard and my hands are pulled to the sides and bound. My legs are still free, but he is on top of me. I can feel the hardness of his cock pressed against me, and I wriggle, trying to throw him off. So fast I almost miss it, he reaches behind his back, and at the same moment he leans down and bites my shoulder, hard enough that I scream, I feel the cold blade against my throat.

I gasp, and still myself. I feel tears pricking at my eyes. Please... I whisper. Don't hurt me. So soft I'm not sure he hears me.

He laughs.

"But if I don't hurt you, then what's the fun in that?"

He trails the tip of the knife down my throat, to my collarbone, up, and across. One quick flick of his wrist and I feel my shoulder bare, the strap on my tank top cut. Then, the cold scrape of the knife, across the base of my throat, and the other strap is gone. I shiver, and despite my fear, there is a dripping wetness between my legs. Back across my collarbone and straight down, he grabs the neckline of my shirt, pushes the knife through the flimsy fabric, and it begins to tear. I never thought one sound could put so much fear in me, or turn me on so much.

My shirt is in tatters, and then I feel it. He's moved my shirt aside, and is trailing the cold knife blade flat across my breast, across the top then down around the side. He presses it into my nipple, dragging it across until the tip rests against the top of my nipple. He presses slightly, just enough. I let out a strangled cry, but don't dare move. His finger catches the single drop of blood blooming there, and he shows me, then moves his finger towards my mouth. I try to turn my head, but he drops the knife onto my belly, and grabs my face, his fingers digging in, and he forces his finger into my mouth. I glare at him as the tang of my own blood hits my tongue.

He stares straight into my glare, daring me to move. I don't move, and he laughs again.

"Good girl."

His taunting tone ignites the fire again, and I suddenly move my hips, trying again to throw him off. He grabs the knife, and trails it down my stomach, stilling me. I hear another rip, tearing fabric, and he is cutting off my shorts. I am not wearing anything underneath.

"So dirty,"

He tsks at me, and he tears what remains of the shorts away, tossing it on the floor. The knife moves, down, down, and over the mound of my pubis. He is not pressing hard enough to cut me, but there will be marks. I'm breathing hard as he presses the dull edge of the knife against my labia. It still feels cold, and smooth.

Suddenly, I feel something hard, unyielding and cold press into me, and before I know what's happened it's inside me and I am full, and I cry out in earnest, all I can think of is the knife and I don't understand what's happening, and just for a moment I think no, no, this has gone too far, what is this? Another strangled sound, and I know that he can tell that this time I am really, really afraid.

He growls again, no words, he holds the knife up in front of my face and I realize that he's slid a toy inside me, a smooth glass dildo, and I can feel it pressing against me, gliding in and out until he just slides it in as deep as it will go and leaves it. I can feel wetness dripping down my thighs, and then I feel his breath on my lips. His tongue flicks lightly across my clitoris, teasing, taunting, then he turns and bites into my thigh. I scream again, and he bites down on the other side. I am shaking now, caught between pain and pleasure and fear and lust.

He stands, dragging the knife down my thigh, my calf, between my toes. He undresses in front of me, and I cannot take my eyes off him. He crawls back up between my legs, and I can feel his erection pushing against my clit as he leans his head down to take one breast in his mouth. I moan, but the gentleness is short lived and then there are teeth. I am so busy squirming at his teeth biting down on my nipple that I almost don't hear the jingling metal. Almost.

He sits up, and lifts the clover clamps, showing them to me, dragging the chain across my lips and down my throat before attaching them to my nipples. I whimper, remembering the pain, and he takes advantage of my being distracted to slide the dildo out of my pussy and slowly press it against my ass. It slides in little by little, easily lubricated by my own juices, and I breathe hard, trying to relax, trying to move past the pain in my nipples and the resistance to the toy. Time stands still, and then it is inside me, and then he is inside me.

How did this happen, when did this happen? I am full, his cock inside me is almost too much, and he looks into my eyes and sees my desperation, but he is not finished playing.

"You do not have my permission to get off, slut. Remember that. If you disobey, there will be consequences."

I whine desperately, mewling, staring up at him, my mouth turned down in a frown. He smiles, his evil smile, the one he gets when he knows that I can barely control myself, when I am reaching the point of disobedience because I cannot hold back.

Then he begins to move. His cock slides deep inside me, hitting my cervix, and I whine, and he moves again, this time reaching forward to pull at the chain between the clamps with one hand. Ow, ow, I cry, and my eyes begin to fill with tears.

He pulls at the chain again as he begins to fuck me in earnest. I am lost. I feel him sliding inside me, with his other hand he bends my knees and puts my feet on his shoulders. My mind is reeling, I am concentrating only on the pain and on trying not to cum, and it's so much, almost too much, and I'm trying and trying and trying.

My whimpers grow more desperate, my words grow more high pitched, please, I beg, please daddy, please have mercy on me daddy, I can't!

He looks into my eyes, and growls at me again, and I know he feels me tighten around him when he does that, and everything is just pain and pleasure and I know that I cannot stop this. I shudder hard beneath him. His lips part, his breathing quickens.

"Who do you belong to?"

You, daddy!

"What are you, my toy?"

I'm daddy's little slut.

"And?"

Daddy's favorite fucktoy.

"Whose pleasure is most important?"

Daddy's is... oh please, daddy, please I can't do this please let me cum for you, please!

His eyes close and he pulls the chain again and I cry out and he growls it, low and primal and out of breath and

"Get off for daddy, little whore."

The clamps, his cock, the toy, the wetness, his balls slapping my ass, his head against my cervix, his eyes locked on mine and I explode, we explode, he takes my pleasure and drinks it in and the wet spot on the bed blooms under me. He has claimed his prize, and I am his.