I've been bad, disobedient. Lock me away, deprive me of my freedoms; ones only you can give me. Force me to think about my behavior. How it affects everything. How it makes Daddy feel to punish me. Make him think he's not teaching me well; unfair of me to even put that thought in his mind.
He's so patient, willing, understanding, kind; he can also be unyielding, demanding and harsh but we know it's for my own good.
Sitting completely bare in my cage, alone, one dim light above. Just my collar for company, hands bound together to keep me from touching and distracting myself. Hours, it seems, alone with my guilt; penitent silence.
Then I hear his measured footsteps; keys on the table, turning on the light switch. He's making me wait, knowing I can hear him above. Then hearing the door at the top of the stairs open makes my heart race but I know better than to show it.
As his footsteps travel down the stairs, his smell permeates the room along with the aroma of fresh coffee.
All of it makes me ache.
He sits in his chair across from my prison. He turns on the soft light on the end table beside his chair, silently regarding me, drinking his coffee. How I would love to taste a drop from his lips.
He's very upset with me; this long period of silence tells me so. The cold glare I can feel cutting through my spine adds to my theory. He sits down the empty coffee cup, slowly stands, and comes towards me.
My face warms.
I keep my eyes down; I can see he stooped down. Feel his voice float on air as he lifts my chin through the thin bars, "What am I going to do with you?"
I say nothing. I have no permission to. He stares almost through me as he stands. I hear him sigh as he walks back towards the door towards a small set of hooks. One key jingles as he walks back toward me.
The sound of it sliding into the lock is freedom, "Look at me," my eyes meet his, "do
not
hurry out. You are to stay on your knees, crawl to me, and kneel before me. Nod if you understand."
I do so.
"Good girl," I fight back the smile.
I wait for the lock to be removed, the door opened. I can feel his eyes on me as he walks back to his chair. Slowly he sits, really like a king on his throne. Silently powerful.
He merely motions for me to come and my heart skips. As carefully and slowly as I can I make my way out of the cage and crawl across the floor. The carpet pulls against my bare skin. I don't cringe; no whining. I do it without any complaint all under his watchful gaze.
I stop before reaching his feet. I pull myself upright; on my knees, hands in my lap relaxed against my restraints, eyes and chin down. I don't know how angry he still is or what he'll do next. I feel him lean over me, running his fingers down my arms to my bindings, caressing them before coming back to my neck, my collar.
"You are so pretty. You should always know that. Which is why Daddy gave you this pretty collar," I don't move but I can feel the heat on my face. He lifts my chin, "It's very cute when you blush, lover. Very innocent," always makes me smile, "we know better though, don't we?"
I nod again. Innocent is a far cry from what I am.
"Not speaking without permission...very good girl. Showing Daddy how well you can follow orders."
I nod, wanting so badly to say how sorry I am.
"I'm sure you're had time to think about what you've done. And I'm just as sure you'd like to tell me so," my eyes light up and he laughs, "You think you deserve the right to speak? Not taking care of yourself is very serious baby girl. I can't have you not well. I need you to always be at full strength. I hope putting you in the cage helped you realize how bad you've been. I would have much preferred you out with me today instead of being alone. You know I hate that, especially when I have to eat."
My head drops and I sigh. I know he still isn't pleased with me. He does hate being alone.
"Not to mention that smart mouth of yours. I thought we'd moved past this, the insubordinate attitude, but clearly I was mistaken. Then lying to me about your sleep habits....you may speak now. I'm curious what you have to say for yourself."
I swallow hard, "I am really sorry Daddy. Sometimes I try and do too much and I can't help it. And I know that's no excuse for being bad."
"You're right. It's not."
"I just...I just want to do what I want to do."
He grabs hold of my neck and slips a finger between my neck and collar, "You understand what
this
means. You. Are. Mine. You don't get choices. Obviously, you use poor judgment and make bad decisions that embarrass the both of us. Petulant little girl."
He loosens the grip and pressure, "I'll try to be better, Daddy. Promise," I mean that.
He regards my sentence, running his fingers through my hair and sweeping it from my face, "I know you do baby. Honestly, I should smack that smart mouth of yours, but I wouldn't want to damage those delicious lips."
I breathe a small sigh of relief, "I believe I still owe you three demerits, Sir."
He smiles, "you do at that. Come and take your punishment like a good girl," he pats his laps and reclines; very magnanimous indeed.
Sliding my bound wrists forward, I pull myself toward him, crawling. He holds out a hand to help me over his knees. How I wish I was crawling into his lap and curling up against him; rest my head against his chest, listen to his heart pound, feel his warm breath against my skin but that's not on the agenda.
I slide my hands over his legs, pulling my body across slithering over his jeans. I lay completely still across his legs, waiting for no doubt a painful lesson. The anticipation is the worst; I'm on edge. His warm hands follow the curve of my spine, finger tips tracing down and around the curve of my ass. He told me it was shaped just like an ass should be; still makes me blush every time I think about it.
"Speak only to count. Do not squirm; hard to hit a moving target. If you cry out, I will use more than my hand. Nod if you understand."
I do as I'm told and nod. I close my eyes and try to control my breathing. I can feel his fingertips on my skin, even after they leave it. I tell myself not to flinch, it's only three you've had more and didn't cry. Seven was terrible, not that I didn't want to cry after four.
The first strike seems to take forever to fall. The crack from his hand against my tender flesh rings through the room. It's on fire, "One, sir." The second has more force. I can hear the air being cut through as he swings; sitting is going to be painful, "two, sir." The third is the most painful. It's like he holds nothing back. The strike makes my legs quiver, tears beg to fall, "three....sir."
Before I can even collapse, he pulls me into his lap and holds me tightly against him. My welted skin carefully perches on his legs; my head on his shoulder and he gives me a gentle kiss on my forehead, "Good girl."
I smile against the fabric. I long for these words. He strokes my hair and keeps me close, never speaking. We sit in silence so I can calm myself.
"Stop....you're okay. Just breathe baby girl; I have you," I didn't even know I was shaking until he spoke. It seems like we're frozen forever that way. I can feel the dampness on my thighs, even more so that they're pressed together. I pull myself closer to him. Maybe I should be terrified but I know he would never do anything to harm me. This was for my own good.
"I hate to punish you; you know that," his voice barely above a whisper, "however, it must be done. Simple things; that's all I'm asking for. I need you to try harder for Daddy."
I nod against him. I pull myself closer, wringing my hands in his shirt breathing in his scent.
"You can speak freely...are you all right baby, really?"
"I'm okay, just really stings. I've had worse."
He kisses my forehead, "I know. If it makes you feel any better, my hand hurts."
My head says serves you right. Instead I gently bring his palm to my lips and place small, soft kisses against his hot, reddened palm, "better Daddy?"
"Much, thank you," he pulls my face upright and presses his lips to mine. I can taste the coffee now; just a hint of desire laced over the flavor of it. I can feel that desire deep within me as the kiss progresses; the now growing pool of nectar between my thighs moistening my skin. His hardness pressing against my throbbing welts. That makes more of me warm and wanting his touch, everywhere.
I squirm against him, pulling at my restraints. I know better than to just act.
He takes his lips from mine and then uses them to trail down my neck. A small sigh escapes my lips; I feel a smile pull at his. His hands softly linger all over my skin, down my arms then along my thighs. I thought I would beg aloud for his touch as he teased my ache. I'm sure he can feel the heat from my center; no doubt I'm beginning to drip with anticipation and desire.
Slowly, moving his hands back up my torso, he latches onto each nipple and I gasp in pleasure. He's teasing me and enjoying making me suffer and moan. I shift more impatiently in his lap, maybe I can gain some contact.
"Can't sit still," he slides a hand down along the inside of my thighs. I open myself to his touch, readily. He never makes contact with my sex, but god I want him to, "even wet down to your thighs. You're soaked hmm," I nod in agreement, "be a good girl, ask Daddy for what you want. You know I'll give it to you."
I catch my breath, "please, touch me. All of me, Daddy....I ache for you to make me cum."
