My hands grip the chair, the leather warm under my fingers. I shift my knees on the cushion but keep my legs apart. It's been a while since I came home, stripped my clothes, and assumed the position for daddy. Five minutes? Twenty? Time stops working when you're waiting for someone to come home and fuck you like their property.
I picture the view he'll see when he walks in: my back arched, ass round and firm, pink pussy and asshole exposed, head lowered with a black leather collar around my neck, toned body taut from maintaining this wanton pose. It gives me motivation to be better; hold it stronger; lift my ass a little more; be perfect for daddy.
---
Doing things perfectly for daddy, or trying to, is a common thread in my life. That's because daddy is also my boss. I know; it's fucked up. He holds true power over me and one could say he's exploiting it, but I want to be exploited. The taboo makes it hotter and more real. I want a real man to make me feel submissive, and he's the only one who's ever succeeded.
He founded and runs the company where I work. People say I'm a rising star in this industry. I'm known for being relentless, tough, and authentic...maybe a little cold. I have the potential to be a real player, to do big things, and my mentor is one of the best in the world. We worked together for a year before the tension broke the surface. And once it broke free, it spiraled deep into both of us.
Because it was so wrong, we tried to resist the sex at first. He'd make me go to business meetings stuffed with a butt plug. He took me on a work trip and fucked another girl in his hotel room, and then he invited me upstairs afterwards, spanked me with a shoehorn and fingered me over the couch, and made me cum on the bed they used while leaving him a voicemail detailing what I was doing. After a work event at a bar, I met him in a hotel room down the street in a schoolgirl uniform and stripped for him. He tied me to the shower rod in the office locker room, spanked my ass with a belt, and fingered me over the sink. He snuck me into an abandoned building, punished my ass until it was bruised, and teased my pussy entrance with his cock.
We kept pushing and escalating things and finally succumbed to sex. I thought maybe it would assuage my need, to actually experience it, but it made things so much worse. We would have marathon sessions where daddy made me cum 20 times, beyond my body thinking it was capable. We'd go out to fancy 10-course meals and he'd tease me for hours before taking me upstairs to a room and fucking all my holes until I couldn't move. We'd share Tumblr posts that turned us on and grew to understand that our kinks were far more overlapping than we'd realized. I wrote a contract assigning ownership of my body and mind to him, signed in blood. He keeps it in a safe in his office.
Daddy planned scenes that touched the core of my desires, and I strived to please him and hear a "good girl" from him both in the office and in his bed. We carried this on for over a year until I moved in with him. He built a room in the house just for daddy to play with his little girl. At the center of the room was the spanking chair. To the average eye it looked like a well-crafted leather chair, but we knew what it was for.
We have a routine. Every night after work, I am to drop my clothes, put my body on display for daddy, and wait for him to come home. We talk about my day, including the infractions I've committed, and he punishes me for them. Sometimes he uses the custom leather paddle I bought him with the word "daddy" engraved in it. Sometimes he uses a riding crop. Mostly he uses his big, strong hands. I like them best. When my ass is red and burning from his spanking and my pussy dripping for his cock, daddy pulls a coin out of his pocket and flips it. Heads means he fucked my pussy; tails means he fucks my ass. I have to have both my holes ready for daddy to use any time and anywhere. I don't have a say in what he does with me.
---
I've had a long day at work and a tough workout, but I know that daddy demands perfection. I arch my back a little further. There's a soft click down the hall and I know he's here. The drop of his keys, the sound of his shoes down the hall...I feel my heart racing. The steps move closer. His hand brushes my ass. I shudder and moan softly.
"We need to discuss your infractions," I hear him say.
"Yes, daddy."
"Do you know what you did?" He asks.
I do. "I couldn't control myself today and I came without asking daddy's permission," I breathe.
"That's right, babydoll," he says. He runs a thick finger across my slit. "You have a greedy little cunt and no self control."
We both know that the second half of that statement isn't true. I'm always in control in my day-to-day existence, disciplined, executing on what I need to. Maybe that's why giving it all up to daddy is so appealing. But he's right that I'm too driven by lust.
"I'm sorry, daddy. I'm such a slut for you. You turn me on and I can't help myself."
"Yes, baby. Tell daddy why you were so turned on today." His hand travels to my ass cheek. I wince in anticipation of what's coming.
"Because daddy made me give him my panties in his office and wear a plug in my ass to all the meetings we had together today. And then played with me in the truck."
The truck is daddy's big, black pickup. I used to think that men who drove excessively large cars were compensating for something. That's not true for daddy. The extra space is useful when he has me meet him during the day to suck his cock or bend over his lap for a spanking or inspection. He parks it on the roof of the parking garage at our office and texts me "Truck. 15 minutes" and I'm suddenly being his whore in broad daylight.
"What did daddy do to you in the truck?" He asks.
"You made me pull down my pants, crawl over your lap, and take your fingers in my pussy, daddy." It had been maddening, getting finger-fucked but not allowed to cum, feeling daddy's cock hard against my stomach, and sent back to the office wet and glistening with sweat. I tried to get back to work but cracked and made myself cum in the bathroom within a few minutes. I told daddy. He was not pleased.
"If you're going to be daddy's good little cumslut, you need to learn that daddy controls your orgasms. If I want to play with you and leave you unsatisfied, you don't get to fix it. You cum for daddy and only daddy. Your pussy is mine. Do you understand, baby?"
"Yes, daddy." I wriggle my ass in the air, only conscious of doing it after it happens. Readying myself for the pain.
"I'm going to hit you 40 times for this. Hard. And every time I do, I want you to say 'I only cum for daddy.'"
"Yes, daddy."
He pulls me over the arm of the chair and spreads my legs wider. Splayed open, heart pounding, I wait. I'm regretting disobeying daddy.
I hear the crack on my flesh just before I feel it, burning and radiating outwards on ass. "I only cum for daddy," I choke out.