Taking the Plunge Bk. 02 Pt. 08

Breathing, panting together, slowing slowing...he pulls away from me and I can't help it, instinctively gripping him closer tightly, arms and legs tighter around his back, can't let him go, don't leave me Daddy stay stay stay inside me, above me, with me with me with me...

My body streaked with red marks from his belt, my face streaked with mascara from my tears...I'm...oh no,it can't be...it is...

I'm in love...I'm in love...

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He pulled his dripping cock out of me.

Every inch and I'm holding, holding on to him, then alone. I felt a few seconds of cool night air on my open, pulsing hole as he slipped out of me. And he got up silently and went to the bedroom.

I heard the shower running.

A strange stillness seemed to enter the room as I gazed up and out of the floor-to-ceiling window next to me, laying there on the fur rug.

The night sky is so beautiful here.

My skin was alive, textural, alert; my senses a shimmering opaque blanket of light, my mind at once empty of all thought, and racing with submission and love, questioning what it all means.

What is life? What had Daddy had turned me into? Into myself?

And I never said my safe word. I went there with him.

I turned over slowly and crawled to the large sectional couch against the wall opposite the fireplace. I wasn't even going to try to stand up. I scooched myself onto the couch and fell into a fetal position on my side, staring back at the fireplace now, the pretty, dancing flames so dangerous and warm...

I was scared of a feeling - a real love entering me. A love for him and for my place in our relationship, as his owned masochistic slut. It was such a beautiful feeling, to be accepted for all my faults and perversions and needs, and to be able to give him just what he needs from me, what he wants and has been seeking, finding it in me.

The scrambled, knotted ropes of our separate sexual and emotional lives were becoming untied and ready to be bound together. It was frightening to be honest. I mean, I thought I was a straight guy with a part-time sissy kink a few months ago and now I'm...I'm eagerly taking Daddy's cum inside me, my body streaked with his belt marks, wearing denim high-heel ankle boots and a girls' jean jacket and nothing else except my cage and the most girly femme nipple and belly button piercings and dainty chains that I could find. Oh yea - the locked pink bondage collar that I gladly accepted.

But, I could see contentment with myself, with her, for once, somewhere out there - as I lay curled up on the couch with all my emotions gazing into the fire which was changing constantly, like I was now.

He came back from the bedroom with a small blue plastic container, picking up the serving plate of hard cheese and grapes that he was making when we began our devotion to each other.

He placed the plate of food on the other end of the couch and sat down between me and the plate, right next to me.

"Come, babygirl." He patted his lap, his hand tapping his luscious jeans. He smelled good.

I was moving by instinct now: Daddy says it, and I obey him.

Silently I stretched out my legs and put my face on his lap softly, nestled on his denim, turning my head to him, my nose right next to his belly...Daddy Daddy..

I brought my hands up to grip and squeeze his legs, holding on like a small child not wanting to lose her parent's hand at a busy train station.

"Have something to eat, angel; the grapes are very sweet."

I picked a grape off the plate and it's sweetness hit me like a million hot fudge sundaes all in one little sugar bomb. My body was craving this after what we had just done.

Then I inhaled sharply, my back tensing from Daddy's strong fingers, suddenly so cold on my belt marks, but he was delicate...and it feels so so good...

He had brought a container of healing lotion (CeraVe, great for this) and he was giving me the 'aftercare' that I had read about when exploring the BDSM lifestyle on line. I never really understood the concept until now, and how important and wonderful it is to give everything and be cared for because of it. Gratitude goes both ways, even though our passion lies down a strange road.

Daddy gently massaged the lotion into my back and thighs, being so delicate and soft on all the stinging pink streaks crisscrossing my ass, legs, and back by the dozen. We must have looked like a Helmut Newton photo there on the couch, in the light of the fireplace, me lying in his lap, still only in the custom denim heels and jacket, with my body coursed with signs of submission, and Daddy bare chested and calm, his strong controlling hand caring for me.

Minutes passed in silence as I felt his soothing touch all over.

"Turn over, princess," he said softly.

I turned and rested my head on his lap, gazing up at him.

Daddy.

In his arms now, he's so quiet and gentle with me. I guess I soothed the wild beast with my mouth and pussy. I smiled, thinking of it, giggling softly to myself.

I saw a little smile on Daddy when he noticed mine, knowing that his aftercare was working.

He started gently working the lotion into my chest, my stomach, my thighs, surprising me with how soft his touch was on my punished skin, just waxed and smooth and on sexual fire from Daddy's perfect use.

"You can talk freely, angel," he said.

But I had nothing to say, really.

It was all just said through sex, through my submission to him, through our planning for this weekend, for each other.

"Thank you, Daddy...for everything," I said quietly, trying not to burst out in tears of acceptance and love and sissy joy.

"Thank you, princess. You made me very happy today."

"You made me happy too, Daddy."

"Daddy?" I asked him, letting him know that I kinda had a big thing to say, and just had to say it.

"Yes, babygirl."

"I'm...I'm sorry I have so many...um like, so many problems."

He laughed softly and said, "I love your problems, princess. Someday you'll tell me all about 'em, won't you?"

"Yes, Daddy, I will."

I watched him silently attending to my body, the cool lotion and his fingers feeling heavenly on my skin, curing my pain, healing me.

Should I tell him what went through my mind, about...about love?...no, don't say anything else...don't mention anything like that, not yet...just...just accept...accept yourself and be free with him, I told myself. I don't have to say anything; we're saying it just being together now...

—to be continued