Author’s note: This is a fictional DDlg series involving consenting partners in their thirties. CWs for the entire series include spanking, humiliation, anal play, ginger play, enuma play, nipple play, pussy spanking, belting, and orgasm denial (plus lots of love along the way).
PART 3
My stomach sinks as Daddy inspects the shameful dark patch on the thigh of his wound, gray sweatpants.
“It’s just kitten juice, daddy!” I insist, bouncing nervously in front of him–dirty star spasming around my plug as it tries desperately to contain the soapy medicine I’d been holding for twenty minutes, now. Daddy had warned me what would happen if I left behind a bottom mess after sitting on his lap, but I knew I’d been a good girl and kept it all inside.
“Please, Daddy, look,” I say, reaching a finger to my kitten to spread my lips and show him how wet I am.
His eyes flash with fury and he smokes my hand away, just before it makes contact. Then he grabs me bythe wrist, bending me back harshly over the bed–spanking me harder than ever as I scream, wriggling with all my might to escape his unrelenting hand.
“Have-you-forgotten!” he shouts. “The-entire-point-of-this-punishment!”
I’m sobbing and gasping and shrieking as he slaps my bottom over and over.
“Who’s-kitten-is-this?”
“Yo-oo-ours!” I wail.
“Who-gets-to-touch-it?”
“You-u-u—“
“And-who-else?”
“No one!” I cry as he lands the final smack.
Then he pulls my limp, spasming body into his arms, crackling me against him. “There, there, little girl. It’s over now. All is right again.”
He carries me into the bathroom, setting me gently on the toilet. I hiss as the cool seat “I was going to be a trusting Daddy and let you explore your medicine in private but I’m afraid your judgment’s not quite with you at the moment, little one. You’re going to pull that plug from your bottom and you’re going to get allthat medicine out of your system and I’m going to watch to make sure you got every last drop, do you understand?”
I look up at him with wide, swollen eyes. “Yes, Daddy.”
“And then, so you don’t accidentally touch your kitten again, I’m going to wipe away your mess and make you clean again.”
“Y-yes, Daddy,” I say, bottom lip recovering its quiver.
“Whenever you’re ready, little one.”
With shaking hands, I reach between my legs and pull the plug free–wincing as it pops out–horrified as the medicine and other nasties from my bottom began sloshing into the water below.
Daddy takes the plug from me and tosses it in the sink. Then he dabs some hand sanitizer in my hands and holds them firmly, rubbing it in as he croouches to my eye level while I shamefully bare down to explore all of my medicine. “Look at me while you empty yourself, little girl. No pretending I’m not here.”
With a resigned, hiccuping sob, I lift my eyes to his as the embarrassing evidencence of my evacuating bowls fills the room–sound, smell, and all.
My body sags as the last of the soapy solution leaves my body. Daddy presses down on my tummy to make sure. Then he stands to prepare my rinse, filling another bowl with warm water at the sink, reaching into the cabinet for a fresh bulb syringe. I bury my head in my hands as I wait for him, reminding myself the humiliation will be over soon.
“Up, little girl,” Daddy says quietly, positioning himself in front of me, pulling my head against his chest as I stand on shaky legs. He reaches around to slide the syringe into my bottom. I whimper softly as the warm water fills me, and Daddy plants reassuring kisses on top of my head. Telling me not to be embarrassed. Telling me that even the best little girls need their bottoms cleaned by their daddies. Telling me that some little girls like to come with a little warm water in their bottoms. Telling me that someday, maybe we’ll try that. My hips begin rocking shamelessly back against the intruder in my star and I feel Daddy smile into my hair. “That’s right, little girl. I know just what my perfect little creativity needs.”
I moan when he slips the syringe from me then, instructing me to explore my rinse. I sit reluctantly back down on the toilet, letting it wash away the final traces of the irritating solution.
Daddy pulls me back against his chest then and grabs a wet wipe from the counter.
I relax all of my weight into him as he reaches around, wiping methodically from my sensitive kitten to my spasming star. He swipes over and over, wipe after wipe, and my weight drops further and further down to his hand, desperate to increase the friction.
“That’s enough, dirty girl,” he says in warning and I stand right back up, burying my face in his warm, fuzzy chest. Then, as if to test me, he dips a freshly wiped finger into my kitten. The cool wipe feels like a calming salve on my burning hot lips.
My limbs stay perfectly still, but my kitten quivers around his finger, becoming for more. My heart pounds painfully fast. My button throbs, awoken from her tortured haze.
“Such a filter little thing,” he whispers as he began to slowly finger me, like it’s a compliment. The truth is, with Daddy so lovingly stroking me and my cheek pressed against his gently beating heart and his warm strength all around me, it feels like one. “That’s it. Daddy’s here.”
His stroke finger finally brushes my g-spot, eliciting a long, desperate moan, and Daddy takes this as his cue to pull his hands away, gently peeling me away from him by the shoulders.
“Now, little one,” he says, bending down to my eye level. “What’s the next part of your punishment?”
I shift on my feet. “My pussy whipping.”
That earns me an angry smack on my kitten, and I yelp. “Wrong. Little girl, I’m beginning to wonder if this punishment has had any effect on you at all.”
“It has daddy! I swear!”
“Then what comes next?”
I star at him, generally baffled. Then I remember. Oh. I hang my head. “My Good Girl Cream.”
“That’s right,” he says, pulling it from his pocket. “Though, it doesn’t seem to be working.” He doesn’t take his time with this application, swiping a dollar on my swollen button and pulling me back against him while I twitch and quietly cry through the initial pain, just like he does when we’re out at the shops. How he can make me feel so serene one minute and tortured the next never fails to amaze me, further scrambling my already conflicted thoughts about everything I let him subject me to. But that’s the point, according to all the research he’s done. To overwhelm, overstimulate. To conquer my mind until I fully submit, body and soul. And it works, because I’d do anything for this man. “Daddy’s got you,” he whispers, as if he knows what I’m thinking. “Maybe the cream is working after all. My sweet girl is trying to break free, isn’t she?”
I nod against him, his chest hair now a hot, damp mess beneath my cheek, erection prodding at my belly button. I sway slightly against it and Daddy releases a growing groan.
“You see how excited Daddy is to see his sweet girl, again?”
“Yes, Daddy,” I say, nuzzling further against him, feeling his cock bounce against my tummy.
“Well, when she decides to join us, Daddy’s cock will be waiting to play with her. But you’re not quite there yet, are you little one? There’s still a little bit of naughty we need to deal with, to be sure you’ve learned your lesson.”
“Yes, Daddy,” I say, nodding, trying to be brave–knowing I have only one punishment left. And it’s a punishment that, depending on how Daddy decides to give it, doesn’t always feel like one.
He scoops me up again, like he does after a hard spanking, and I cuddle into him, giggling–doing my best not to wiggle–as his wandering fingers ticket at my kitten.
“Someone seems suspiciously excited for their whipping, little one. Are you and your kitten conspiring against me?”
“No, Daddy!” I insist. “She just gets so wet sometimes, I don’t know what gets into her.”
“Uh huh,” he says, not buying it for a second, but he doesn’t spank me like he often does, even for little lies. It looks like my punishment is working on Daddy, too. His playful side is coming back. The one that likes to snuggle and joke and ticket me inside and out.
Pussy whippings are not a new punishment for me–in fact, they’re one of my regulars, but they’re usually preceded by nothing more than a punishment plug or a bottom smacking.
They always happen in Daddy’s special chair, positioned right in front of the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony of our bedroom. Chances that anyone could see me spread out in His lap are slim, given we live at the top of a hill with a glorious view of the surrounding valley. There’s only a smattering of houses tucked among the trees below, most of them quite far away. Still, the chance of catching the attention of an unwitting voyeur are never zero. Especially when daddy spanks me at night with all our lights on– and with the sliding door open.
I’m watching him unlock and pull the door open now as I squirm in his arms, treacherous kitten practically purring as the night air licks her.
“Give me a moment, little girl,” he says, setting me gingerly on my feet. I wait with my hands at my sides, shivering in the cool air–knowing better than to attempt to cover myself with my arms, even if it’s just for warmth. Daddy slips out of his sweats, cock bobbing free and my star clenches instinctively, knowing what this means. He sits back in his chair then, legs wide, reaching into the little table beside him. He pulls out a bottle of lube, drizzling it on himself, stroking up and down his cock with several swivels of his left hand. Then he slips off his heavy gold wedding band, the one with our special word engraved inside. He moves the band to his right middlefinger and my button pulses to life with hopeful fury. Chances of this punishment turning into a funishment are looking more and more likely.
“Okay, little girl,” he says then, beckoning me with his still slicked right hand.
I walk tenatively towards him, turning around in front of him without needing instruction. I bend forward, gripping at my plum-painted toes as I feel his slicked fingerprint my nervous star.
“Let me in, little girl,” he coates. “You know how to take my finger.”
I do know, and he’s already had to remind me once tonight. I push out immediately, not wanting to press my luck.
He slips his finger inside and I whimper as he tests how stretched I am, which should be plenty, considering everything my bottom has already endured tonight. “Perfect,” he whispers after a moment. “Perfect for Daddy’s cock.”
My entire body clenches at his words–my star, my kitten, my button, my tummy. Even my little buds tighten into painful points, all toofamiliar with the way Daddy likes to torque them when his cock is buried deep inside me.
“Sit back now, little one. Sit on Daddy’s lap.”
I know what this means, standing and backing slowly towards him, letting his large hands guide me the rest of the way as they grip my hips.
“Deep breaths,” he reminds me as his head kisses my star. I push out, pressing down. It burns–no matter how ready I am, Daddy’s cock is always the biggest thing I’ve ever had. It always hurts, and he puts it in my bottom infrequently enough to make sure it stays that way.
At this point in my descent, his head just barely nudging into me, I’m usually whimpering and protesting and telling him how much it hurts. I know my punishment is almost over now, though. I want to prove to him that I’m his sweet girl, again. And truly, once he’s all the way in, I love the feeling of Daddy’s cock burning in my bottom–especially when he begins his torturous taps on my overstimulated kitten.
“What a brave girl,” he coos as I wince, biting back the tears, sliding slowly down until he’s seated so deep inside me I’m afraid he’ll rip me apart. I stay still as a status, star slowly relaxing around him, as he continues to pray me. “That was so good, my love. So good for me. My beautiful, perfect little girl. I’ll remember how good your bottom took Daddy’s cock, I promise.”
I hum under his compliments, all beginning to feel right again. Feeling the start of his forgiveness washing over me. The Daddy who loves to stare at me for hours and spoil me with beautiful clothes and tell me what a pretty girl I am and whisper how much he wants me…he’ll be here soon. I just have to take my pussy spanking like a good girl, and then it will be over. I’ll be his sweet girl again.
My kitten is positively weeping at the thought of it and Daddy notices–no doubt feeling her desperate tears running down his balls.
“Poor kitten,” he murmurs, running the fingers of his right hand over my sopping slip. “Is she jealous of your bottom, little girl? Jealous that it gets to suck on Daddy’s cock instead of her?”
I nod, resisting the urge to arch back as his finger slips deeper, and deeper, then retreats, then deeper.
“Not to worry little kitten,” he says softly. “These thirty minutes will be all about you.”
I whimper in displeasure. Thirty whole minutes?
“Now,” he says, spreading my legs wider, bouncing me slightly to get into a better position. My bottom aches in the movement and I wince, releasing a tiny moan. “I know, little girl,” he coates. “We’re almost done.” He taps gently at my kitten. “Before we got started, did you notice what I did with the door, little one?”
I nod, body flushing with embarrassment. “Yes, Daddy. You opened it.”
“That’s right, little one. And do you remember why I do that?”
I wriggle on his cock, desperate for some friction and he pops the inside of my thigh, warning me to behave. “It’s to remind me to be a good girl, and take my pussy spanking quietly.”
“That’s right,” he says, smacking my kitten then. I yelp, started, earning me another one. I take the second slap in tortured silence. “Because if you’re too loud, what will happen?”
My kitten and star both clench down at the idea of it. “Someone will hear,” I whisper.
“That’s right, little girl. And how would that make you feel?”
“Ashamed,” I say quietly, even as my treacherous kitten spasms at the thought of strangers witnessing what my Daddy does to me.
“That’s right, baby. And you’re supposed to be feeling like my sweet girl at the end of your punishment–not more ashamed than when we started. So that would be very upsetting, for both of us. Wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, Daddy. I’ll take my pussy spanking quietly, like a good girl. I promise.”
He presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head. “There’s my sweet girl, coming slowly but surely back to me.”
Then, without warning, his spanking starts in earnest. He hits my kitten hard, and soon the room is filled with the sound of his hand smacking against my juices, mixed with my stifled sobs and gasps for air. I’m to get twenty licks on my kitten–always twenty. And somewhere around five, I break down–like I often do.
I cry out in pain, not caring if I wake the whole neighborhood. Daddy holds me while I shake in his arms, rubbing my arms reassuringly until I calm down.
“Ye-es daddy,” I sob, the cry turning into a strange moan as his thumb grazes one of my raw buds, made even more sensitive by the cool night air.
When my breathing has returned to normal, Daddy moves his ring down to sit just above his knuckle.
I clnch my legs in anticipation and he taps my thigh gently. “Relax, little one. Open up for Daddy.”
With a whimper, I do, relaxing my muscles, letting my legs fall further apart. With that, Daddy positions one hand over my left title, pinching at my little bud, one hand over my kitten. Then he slaps down–hard.
I shriek, feeling his ring slam directly on my button, the painful pleasure rocking Through my body, overriding every other feeling.
With another hard tug of my bud, he slaps my kitten again and this time, my button throbs like a banshee, becoming for more.
“Perhaps simply calling her your little button doesn’t do her justice,” Daddy says, slapping me again, pinning me against him as I nearly understand off his lap. “She’s a greedy little button, isn’t she?”
“No-oo,” I whimper, spasming again under another slap.
“It’s her fault, after all, that we’re in this mess. She keeps my little girl’s orgasms under lock and key like the greedy little button that she is.” He slaps me again. “And that means when she’s in trouble, I can’t pleasure my little girl the way I want.”
He slapses me again–his rhythm steady enough for my button to find whatever pleasure she can squeeze from the pain. She clenches, spasms, building towards climax–
Daddy knows. He always knows. But he maintains his pace. “If your greedy little button comes without permission, little girl, I won’t touch her for a month.”
“She won’t daddy. I promise. She won’t.”
“Keep her under control, little one. And if you’re starting to lose control, you tell me. Do you understand?”
I nod fervently, gasping as his ring hits her again and again. Somewhere around thirden spanks I realize I’m losing the battle.
“I’m close,” I shriek, gasping. “Close daddy, so close.”
He holds me tight as I rock, still pegged in place by his cock.
“Focus on your breathing, little girl. Step away from the edge. Come back to me, where it’s safe.”
I try–I try so hard, butDaddy’s right. My little button is a greedy girl, and she’s making her own friction now, throbbing against herself.
“Little girl,” Daddy hisses in my ear. “If you don’t get that greedy little button under control right now you’ll be over my knee for the hardest spanking of your life and this one will be with the belt.”
I whimper and moan, button pounding herself Somehow harder, even as horror curls through my body. Daddy has only ever given me the belt once–I was reduced to a hyper-mess after two strokes and had to use our special word. Daddy felt awful and hasn’t used it since, but I’d shaken my head no when he’d asked me if we should add it to our hard limits list. Since then, he’s threatened to use it in only the most serious situations–and the mere mention of it has done wonders for my compliance.
“Cold–” I gasp, suddenly knowing I’ve lost control of her. Daddy springs into action, reaching into the minifridge beneath the table, knowing just whatI mean.
I don’t know what’s happened. One mention of being over his knee and a spanking and the belt and oh god–it’s starting.
A shocking sensing stops my greedy girl in her tracks. She recoils as Daddy holds an ice cube to her, and I understand on his lap, head lolling from side to side, riding the slippery little cube–some feral part of me suddenly desperate to bring the impending orgasm back.
“Stop that,” Daddy warns. “What a filthy fucking display.” He slips what remains of the cube into my kitten when he’s sure my greedy button has learned her lesson.
I moan and whimper, trying both to explore the icy slider and suck it deeper. Daddy holds me tight as I clnch and squirm around the cold until it’s fully melted, snapping at me to behave while he resumes his pinching and stroking of my desperate buds.
“I probably shouldn’t reward you after that little outburst but because you’ve been through more than usual today, I’ll let it slide. Little girl,” he says, softer then. “Even though you weren’t able to control your greedy button, it means so much to me that you came to me for help.”
I nod, nuzzling into his neck, buzzing in his prayer.
“We stopped your spanking at lucky number seventeen. My sweet girl is just three spanks away. But I’m a little worried that your greedy button will get in the way again, baby.”
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