He takes a fistful of my hair and gives me a shake. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes, daddy,” I whimper. “Please, please, just do it. I’ll die if you keep drawing it out.” I’m nearly crying the tension is so thick.
He gives my hair a vicious tug. “Are you telling me what to do?”
“No, daddy,” I sob.
“You better not be.”
He takes his time arranging me, so that the agony of waiting mounts and mounts. No one’s ever hit me before and I don’t know if it will be a glow of heat or a burn of pain.
When the firs
t strike comes, I’m not ready for it. It’s a white hot blaze of unbearable pain. I’m about to scream but the Black Fox pushes my face into the blankets and holds it there.
“What did I say?”
I cry silently, my shoulders shaking, not daring to make a move or a sound. My left ass cheek is throbbing.
I feel his arm lift, and then he straps me again, this time on the right side. I press my face harder and harder into the blankets, screaming noiselessly. The pain is unlike anything I’ve known before. The sting of the leather is sharp, and the welts burn and burn, and then burn afresh as he strikes me again.
I move past pain into an entirely other place. The Black Fox strips me bare and breaks me down. It feels good to finally be treated like I deserve to be.
Little liar Lo.
I deserve this. I deserve this.
The Black Fox finally stops. I know it’s truly over when he takes my ass in his hands and squeezes, admiring his work. “You needed that, didn’t you, Little Lo?”
I nod, shuddering with exhaustion. He strokes my body with long, slow caresses, telling me how good I am. That I took my punishment like a brave girl and he’s proud of me. I hear the pleasure in his voice. He flips me over. My face is wet with tears behind the blindfold.
“What do you say?”
I lick my lips. “Thank you, daddy.”
The Black Fox grasps both my ankles and pulls me down the bed toward him. He pulls me so I’m sitting up, my feet dangling off the edge of the bed. I feel the brush of his thighs against my own.
Something hot and blunt presses against my lips. I open my mouth and his cock pushes over my tongue. I suck him eagerly, imagining that it’s my pussy he’s pounding as he rhythmically moves his hips.
He fists his hand in my hair. “Are you daddy’s pretty little girl?”
I moan and nod, eager to do anything for him, hoping he’ll take pity on my neediness and fill me with his cock. I’m aching between my legs with the desire to be touched, to be fucked so hard that I’ll feel it for a week.
He pulls his cock from my lips, leaving me gasping. His fingers caress my face, feeling my tears, and then he pulls my legs apart to feel my sex. I’m so wet that my thighs are coated. “Little girls who cry with a wet pussy are perfect little girls. Will you always be so good for me, Lolita?”
He pumps his fingers in and out of me. “If you’ll always be my daddy.”
I wish I could see him, but he hasn’t removed the blindfold and my hands are still tight behind my back. I wriggle forward and rest my cheek against his muscular belly as he finger fucks me. As the sensations build, intensified by the heat and pain in my ass, I rub my cheek against him, like a cat. His other hand caresses my hair, telling me that I’m a good, sweet girl, that I’m going to get my reward.
I come in a great rush of pleasure, leaning into his fingers and body. The orgasm goes on and on, fueled by the heat already radiating through me. I take a gasping breath, and he flips me over onto my stomach. I feel the thick intrusion of his cock, sliding deep and true right to my core.
“Yes,” he hisses, drawing back and sheathing himself inside me again. “How perfect you feel after you’ve been punished.”