Daddie And The Boi Pt 05

'Excuse me sir, may I have permission to speak?'

Daddie peered over his newspaper menacingly, cocking one eyebrow then quickly furrowing it. I was washing up whilst he was catching up with what was going on in the world, the growl he elicited indicated that he was somewhat disappointed in my brave act of posing a question. At a snails pace he lowered the paper to the table and said

'What is it boi?'

The even tone of his voice and his piercing glare sent shivers all the way through me; feeling blood well under my face skin; I was embarrassed. Filling my lungs with cold air I was going to ask him my question, I'd been dreaming about this for many nights and thinking on it for even more days. Finally I'd plucked up the courage to ask my one time captor turned master and I could hear the buzz of a flatline fill my head as the anxiety invaded all the crevices of my skull. The question was personal and awkward, usually I would never imagine asking a partner what I was about to ask, however as far as Daddie was concerned breathing felt like I was taking too much. So what I was going to ask of him was big and I needed to summon all my big boy courage and just spit it out.

Seconds passed, dragging through time as I froze. Terrified of moving my lips to make my request. Resolute I shut my eyes tight forcing myself to manipulate my mouth to contrive a sentence. Regret and fear of the consequence already seeping out of my pores in a cold nervous sweat, before I even spoke...

'Daddie, please may I have a haircut?'

Nothing.

His weighty blinks carried such menace that I had to avert my stare, he raised his mug and took a sip before speaking to me again

'Boi come here and get on your knees.'

He clicked his fingers, readjusted his position on the chair and pointed to just in front of him. I obeyed. Somewhat affectionately he tousled my overgrown feminine locks after I got down. Suddenly he changed and pulled my hair out before him observing the length, texture etc. Sadistically yanking at the tendril he handled bringing my head closer to his lap. This quickly turned into him grasping at my head with a fistful of what grew from it - next thing I knew we were face to face, his looking down on mine. Spit and words came from him next:

'What makes you think you have the right to come to me with such requests? You are my slave, I own you and your pathetic body. How dare you approach me with such a presumptuous and impudent question boi?'

This wasn't rhetorical. Daddie expected an answer, yet all I wanted to do was cry. I had sullied his morning with my speech and now I was filled with pain emanating from each follicle that was tugged at which collided with a very poignant soul crippling regret. Everything ached, I shook with a quiet fear of what was to become of me. I'd been spanked before but never had I made him this angry, the energy in the room was like anything could happen at any time. Rage seemed to drown the man behind the newspaper minutes ago as he held my head for a little too long, holding me a little too tight. I had definitely forgotten the place my captor had ascribed me. Throwing me from his grasp, my head teetered on my shoulders. I was in shock. As soon as he let me go, my temples caved into my tear ducts and my forehead drooped in the direction of my deflated heart. I couldn't help but weep on my knees before him.

I wasn't expecting it but he stood up and walked over to the kitchen draw. Retrieving a knife he walked back over retaking his seat. Without words he grabbed my hair and began to saw it off with the kitchen knife, slitting my scalp in places, I could feel globules of blood forming from where he was removing my hair. He also pulled some of it out with his hands, quickly, clumps of hair smattered with blood formed around my crouching figure. Next thing I knew he took the knife and placed it under my chin, redirecting me to look him in his face. Now he smiled, as surely as I was bald he derived joy from making me bleed like that.

I never should have asked, to be fair. Now the only thing I could do was feel the sting.

Before I could cry anymore he had moved my wobbling jaw from before him where it expressed discontent onto his exposed cock. As I sucked it he rubbed salt into the wounds. Swallowing his jizz I never felt so pathetic in all my life.