Daddy's Proclamation

Nothing is rushed. I build the pace slowly, sensuously. I take my time to dine upon your heavenly peach, allowing your juices flow freely, coating me from nose to chin. I relish that rare and extraordinary taste only a young girl can possess. I've travelled the world, seen and experienced many things. I am confident that nothing can compare.

With every pass, my appetite grows ever keener. I slurp and quaff with ravenous gluttony. Indulging my greed and revelling in your delicious cunt. I consume you with pure, carnal joy, every mouthful loaded with sensual gratification.

"Daddy, stop! I'm going to come...Oh, please let me come! Please!"

I ignore you, but continue to feast with gusto. Every bit of your luscious vulva is devoured. Licking, sucking, nibbling on your plump, ripe clitoris and your swollen, fat majora and minora.

Then, the unmistakable tension in your muscles. The half stifled scream. The uncontrollable trembling of your limbs. You come vigorously, with an intensity I have never felt from you before. I don't stop eating until you have finished completely and push me away with the last of your strength.

Once your body has stopped shaking and you've regained control of your breathing, you open your eyes to see my stern features staring at you. You're flushed and still panting. Little drops of perspiration cover your forehead and trickle down your temples. Your ponytail is coming loose and strands of sweat soaked hair are stuck to your face. I did not give you permission to orgasm. You disobeyed your Daddy and I am very cross.

You attempt to reason with me, "Sorry, Daddy. It just felt too good and I did ask you to stop. I couldn't help it."

This is no excuse. It was your responsibility not to come, to hold yourself back, no matter what. If you can't follow simple instructions, if you can't do as you are told, then you must be disciplined. You can see in my glare, a spanking is imminent and leap from the bed.

****

Punishment

You try to get away, but I have you securely by the wrist. You tug and pull, trying to avoid the unavoidable, but merely delaying it.

"No, Daddy! I won't let you. No! Let go of me."

I pay your defiant protestations no mind. This isn't about what you want, it's about what you need.

You aim a swift and forceful kick at my groin. It's accurate, but I'm able to deflect it with my knee, before it reaches its target.

The line has been crossed and you know it. I wasn't going to punish you severely, just put you over my knee for a few swats on your bottom, with the back of my hand. However, now I'm angry. That kick has altered my mood irrecoverably. It was an act of aggression I simply cannot tolerate.

I'm no longer holding your wrist. There is no physical contact between us at all, but the look in my eyes has hold of you. It grips you, vice like, around your throat. Neither one of us moves. You stand restrained by my glare.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to."

I say nothing.

"Please, Daddy. It was an accident."

Your heart pounds in your throat as you try to anticipate my next move. Everything in your brain and body is screaming at you to run, to get away and escape the harsh chastisement you know I have in store for you. Yet you don't budge, you can't.

With astonishing quickness and agility I grab you, lift you off your feet and toss you, face down, onto the bed. Although the mattress is soft, you land hard. The impact leaves you disoriented, you feel it in the pit of your stomach. I'm usually quite gentle with you, even when we play "rough", I hold a lot back. You forget just how much stronger than you I am. The rare occasions when I manhandle you like this, brings sharply into focus just what I am capable of, what I can do to you, if I so choose. You know I'm no longer playing and you make no attempt to escape.

I search in the suitcase for the implement I need. It doesn't take long to find what I'm looking for. You lie passively, with eyes shut tight, not daring to move.

A whoosh past your head and a slap on the duvet beside you. The cane. Your eyes open with a start. Not that. Instinct takes over and you try to flee, but my heavy hand plants you right back down in your place.

You writhe and squirm in vain as I hold onto the back of your neck, forcing your face into the bedclothes and muffling your pleas for leniency. I am in no mood to indulge you now. You have awoken my sadistic streak and it needs to be satisfied. I think about gagging you, but decide against it. I want to hear you scream with each lash.

What you require now is a short, sharp shock directed at your pert backside. A couple more practice strokes through the air, before bringing the first blow down across both your buttocks. The initial impact isn't what hurts most. You cry out from the sting, which comes a split second after, bringing rapid waves of pain in its wake. Tears instantly fill your eyes and a two long welts appear on your dermis.

I allow a few moments for you to settle, then whack! Another stroke of the vicious cane to your still buzzing posterior and another screech of anguish. You buck your hips, trying to shake me off, but your Daddy's clench is firm. You're not going anywhere. The tears flow freely down your cheeks. Eventually you settle and brace yourself for the next impact.

Again the bamboo whistles and lands on your bum. Again you wail in agony. You kick your legs wildly and again you try pleading.

"Enough, Daddy! Please! I'm sorry, Daddy!"

It's not enough for me, not at all. As I raise my arm, you bite down on the blankets. Thwack! The cane cruelly licks you again. A howl of torment escapes your lips, but you are losing the energy for physical resistance.

I inspect your bottom. Four expertly placed stripes, glowing red on each cheek. I am pleased with my work so far, but I'm still not finished. You grit your teeth and await the next excruciating smack. It falls with brutal accuracy, causing another scream and two more stripes.

We both know the next one will be the last. There is an unspoken agreement between us that I won't go past six of the best. We also know it will be the most savage of all. Your face is screwed up and buried in the white linen. Fists clenched and knuckles white. Your arse is on fire. Each second you have to wait with this apprehension feels like an hour and I'm dragging it out as long as possible. This one is really going to count.

At last it comes. A crack of thunder across the very tops of your thighs and a lightning jolt courses through your whole body. I can feel your muscles spasming. You don't yelp or cry at this one, it's too intense, just a loud, sharp gasp. It takes your breath away.

It is done. Your spanking is over. I release you and catch my own breath back. You lie sobbing and twitching uncontrollably. Your rear end is stinging and throbbing like never before. Nothing feels quite like the cane and nothing can prepare you for it. You'll be feeling this for days to come. A harsh reminder not to test Daddy.

Sitting myself on the bed, I try to comfort you. Kisses on your shoulders, stroking your hair, gently caressing your back, from neck to hip.

"Shh. There, there, Baby Girl. It's all finished now."

I venture onto your vividly lined bottom. As soon as I make the slightest contact with one of the hypersensitive wheals, you flinch and hiss.

"No. No, Daddy, please don't. It hurts."

I leave you and disappear into the bathroom. I return shortly with a flannel soaking in a bowl of cold water and some soothing balm. I can't see you suffer for long.

The wet terrycloth is shocking at first, but soon begins to offer relief from the burning left buy the rod. Your sobs gradually subside and the twitches cease.

Next the lotion. You grimace again, it smarts despite my efforts to be gentle. However, once applied, the calming aloe vera works its magic.

Once your bottom is well treated, I shift my attention to your face. You're flushed and your eyes are puffy. I refresh the flannel in the bowl and dab your face with the cool, sodden cloth. You look at me and sniffle, the corners of your mouth downturned. I kiss your forehead and hold you close.

"I'm sorry I'm such a bad girl, Daddy. I don't mean to be," you say, still sobbing slightly.

"Now, now, Poppet, it's okay. I know you're a good girl really," I reassure you and you nuzzle up to my chest.

****

Daddy cradles you in his powerful arms. The arms he used to restrain you, to hold you down and flog you, just a few minutes ago. Who would have thought arms capable of such uncompromising severity could also be so tender and loving?

Your bum is still singing a chorus of misery, but you feel clean. The lash has washed away your sins. You have paid your penance, atoned and been redeemed by Daddy's strict hand. The pain drowned out the noise and confusion in your mind, the anxiety that torments you, leaving behind sweet silence, total peace. You are free.

****

Breeding

Neither of us realises how long it's been. It could be hours. The two of us drifting in and out of sleep. Arms and legs entwined, skin against skin, sweat mingling with sweat, my body warming yours.

Hands wander in a semi-conscious haze. Touching, fondling, groping. Thighs opening. Genitals stiffening and moistening. Fingers stroking and penetrating. Lips find lips.

I lay you on your stomach, passive and acquiescent, yielding instantly. You appear so vulnerable beneath me, such an innocent little thing. Who would ever guess the dramatic way you suck my dick and swallow my cum?

I'm astonished at how alluring you can be, without even trying. Effortlessly irresistible, your seductive power is overwhelming. Never before have I felt such a pull, such desire to have you in every way imaginable.

You whimper as I enter you. My entire length sinks in unimpeded, despite the tightness of your quim. My considerable girth stretches you. You accept it willingly and remain docile. Inside is snug and warm. The walls of your vagina grip and hug my shaft. It feels as though you are drawing me into you. Our hips rock and sway in unison.

I am reenergized by arousal and increase the speed and intensity of my thrusts. My hips slam against you as I work my prick ever deeper. Your moans, half of pleasure, half of distress, spur me on. I grab a fistful of hair as I pound you. Frantically driving Daddy's dick into your tight, young hole.

"I'm going to come inside you."

"Daddy?"

"I'm going to shoot my cum inside of you. I'm going to come in you and knock you up."

"No. No!"

"I'm going to make you pregnant, I'm going to put a baby in your womb."

"But...but, I'm too young to be a mummy, Daddy!"

It's too late. Choices are no longer yours to make. Daddy has decided and what Daddy says goes. Your body isn't yours to control anymore.

"You're Daddy's little breeding slut."

My final fervent thrusts hit your cervix. High pitched cries of ecstasy and lust pass your lips. Primal growls and grunts in low gravelly tones emanate from within me. Semen erupts from my manhood, gushing into you. Daddy's hot, thick, white spunk fills his little girl's unwilling cunt.

Feeling the force and warmth of my load inside of you, you come too. The exquisite release of orgasm. Your pussy clenches, milking the last of my cum from me and into you. We are spent.

****

He holds you. Fingers interlaced. You hold your belly. Both of you wondering, "did we?"

He looks at you and kisses your cheek. At this moment, you may well be prettier and more radiant than he has ever seen you. More gorgeous than he even thought possible. He feels a catch in his throat. Frustration at his shocking inability to express what he's feeling.

Tonight has been a torrent of emotions, conflicting and harmonious, for both of you. Anticipation and relief, adulation and fear, fury and redemption, aggression, regret, forgiveness. It's not over yet. Daddy still has one last thing in store for his little one.

****

Reward

Your stomach does a backflip, the blindfold makes you nervous. The last time Daddy put it on you, he left you tied up in the dark for hours, then beat your bum raw with his belt. You don't know how you'd be able to cope with another spanking after receiving the cane already today, but don't object.

Naked, blind and totally helpless, you sit perched on the edge of the bed. Silently and patiently waiting. You've reached that perfect point of submission, completely given yourself to your Daddy. Physically, psychologically, intellectually, spiritually. You know you will take anything he has to give you, any punishment he sees fit. You have no choice, no thoughts, no opinions. Daddy is in charge and Daddy knows best. Your only role now is to feel and to obey.

He's rummaging around, as if trying to find something. Perhaps it's those evil nipple clamps? No, they are in the toy box and he's not looking in there. Maybe something worse? The not knowing is almost too much to take, far worse than the pain of your well chastened derrière. You do not move, do not utter the slightest sound, not a peep of complaint.

At long last the searching stops and Daddy comes to a rest in front of you. He kneels down, takes your left foot in his hand and rests it on his knee. This isn't what you were expecting at all.

"You pleased me tonight, Angel," you can hear the smile in his voice. "You had a moment of naughtiness and made me very cross, but you took your punishment well. I'm proud of you and want to give you a present. I bought it some time ago, but I've been waiting for the perfect opportunity to give it to you. It's something very special, you must wear it always."

There is a slight tickle of something cold on your instep. Daddy's fingers fasten it in place. It's jewellery. Daddy has given you an anklet, a symbol of his ownership of you. You officially belong to him now, totally and utterly. You always knew you did, you felt it and were sure he felt it too. Now you have proof, a real, physical, tangible object to display that fact to the world. Even when he is away, you will always have this reminder that you are his property.

You can't suppress it for a second more. Your upper lip goes all aquiver and the tears begin again. Daddy knows these are tears of joy. He pulls the cover from your eyes and dabs them dry.

Looking down, you see the shiny, white gold chain around your tarsus. There's a tastefully small tag hanging from one of the links, engraved with a single word...

"Daddy's"