11-30-2022
I lay back in his arms, my head cradled in the cream of his left shoulder, right where he positioned me. His face looms over me, inches from mine. I turn to stone, paralyzed by his dark gaze, and I do not question him. He wraps his strong arm around me, cupping my cheek in his hand and rubbing my soft jawline and bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. Soft words drip from his lips and into my ears, as he tells me that he is going to make me his girl. It is all that I want.
I feel the cool smoothness upon my right breast before I see it- the wooden spoon in his right hand. He is running the flat back of the marled spoon across the pale tender skin of my breast, watching it, as I watch him.
There is a shift in his face as he lightly taps the spoon on my delicate skin. One tap. Two taps. Then 3 taps together, quicker and controlled. My ear pressed to his ribs, I hear a low growl of approval roll through his body at the third tap.
I close my eyes and trust him, to only feel the smooth back of the spoon soothe again. His grip on my shoulder tightens, and there is a snap of pain as the spoon smokes on my already bruised breast. A sharp intake of breath, and I open my eyes.
If there is anything else in the room, I don’t see it right now. His face is all that I can see. He is the cloudy sun, peeking through to show its radiance amidst the storm that is brewing in his eyes. My Dark Daddy, full of desire and focus. On me.
The bruise on my breast immediately blossoms into a scarlet crescent. He stars into my eyes as he brings the spoon down, harder and harder, with increasing swiftness. Each blow surpasses the next. I don’t dare break our eye contact, or I know it will enrage him, and quicken my beating. I want it to last as long as possible.
I can see the approval in his eyes as he brings the spoon down upon me. His approval strengths with each blow. The singing pain is exactly what I need and what I deserve as his bratty little slut.
The pain doubles, triples, as I watch his eyes grow stormy. It is nearly unbearable, as he rains down blows on my breast. I can see him dropping his reserve, as he takes out his pain, frustrations, and fears upon my breast, not holding anything back any longer. It is the hardest that he has struck me, and now nothing less will ever do.
My legs wrong against the bedsheets as I struggle with the pain. His body is straining with the effort he is exerting to give me all that he is. His hand tightens around my jaw as his other hand reaches its final severe blows.
I cry out in pain at that last blow, and the tears start flowing. Dark Daddy has beating me to my breaking point. I am nothing now. All that was now gone, and is laying in my bruised breast.
He drops the spoon and uses that hand to soothe the tenderness away. He reaches down and kisses the mark that he has left, lingering with his soft lips on my hot skin. My head is still cradle against his side, still only able to look up at him. I watch his face as he inspects his work, turning my breast side to side to see the fruits of his glorious labor. I wince with every touch, silently slipping tears down my cheeks.
He soothes the crescent shaped cruele with one hand, and then his gaze turns to my wedding face. His face softens as he uses his other hand to wipe away my tears, one by one. His eyes dance around my tears-streaked face, taking it all in. I can see my face reflected back to me in his intense honey eyes, and my bottom lip is quivering.
“Shh,” he whispers. “You’re ok, my sweet good girl.”
I melt at his touch, and I soar at his words. He brushes the hair from my face, and pulls me in to his chest, so I can rest against him, my tears mixing with his chest hair. I am his babygirl. I was meant to be his babygirl.
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