Author's notes:
This story contains harsh spanking, cismale/transfem sex, and discussions of sex work. All characters are adults and are entirely fictional.
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Stepping through the bathroom door I could see her kneeling naked on the floor in front of the camera. Her stringy, shoulder length blonde hair is a sweaty mess. Her pale skin shines with sweat from exertion. Her big dark eyes blink up at me, mascara running down her small face. Her bright red lipstick is smeared, highlighting her softly angled chin. Her black leather choker frames her face. She holds her shrinking cock in her hand, a guilty pool of thin, watery semen spilled out on the floor in front of her.
"Kitten!" I roar in anger. "I told you not to play in my bathroom! Look at this mess!"
"Oh Daddy!" She squeaks. "I'm sorry Daddy, please!" I yank her up by her arm. "No Daddy please! Do I hafta get a spanking? I'll be good! I'll clean it up and suck your dick! Please Daddy!"
"Oh you'll clean it up." I growl. "You'll clean it up *after* your spanking. You'll take my cock after your spanking too!" I set one foot up on the edge of the tub and hoist her tall slim frame over my raised knee. Her feet pedal desperately in the air as I bring my hand down sharply across her flat ass, painting her pale white cheeks a bright pink.
"Oh Daddy no, pleeeease!" She squeals as smack after smack rains down on her poor defenseless little tush. She's a sight already: her long skinny legs freewheeling in the air, her limp cock swinging wildly, her toes spreading and curling from the pain, her blonde hair flying in her face. Her hands grasp at my leg, the edge of the tub; anything to pull herself free, but my arm is like steel around her waist, pinning her down to my knee.
With her asscheeks turned rosy red I release her from my grip, setting her back on the floor. Her feet dance a desperate jig against the hard tile floor, her hands squeezing obscenely at her poor beaten butt.
"Fetch your hairbrush." I order sternly.
"Noooo!" She shrieks, her eyes open wide with fright. "Please no Daddy, please! I'll be good!"
I respond to her shameless dancing and begging with only an icy glare.
"Please Daddy..." she whimpers, seeing my stern resolve.
"Oooooh..." she cries softly, but turns and walks slowly to the cabinet, retrieving her large wooden hairbrush. I take a seat on the edge of the tub. Sullenly she walks back to me, her eyes downcast, her soft, pink soles pattering gingerly across on the cold tile. She whimpers as she presents the awful implement to me submissively on open palms.
"Thank you, Kitten." I speak softly to her, before pulling her across my lap. Deftly I pin her swinging cock between the thighs of my slacks as I maneuver her into position. The hard wooden hairbrush hits her right cheek suddenly with an ear-splitting *splat!* Then *splat* on the left. The shock of the brush steals her breath, she doesn't even start to scream until the third stroke. But scream she does, and kick, and beg, and plead, and sob, but the hairbrush cracks mercilessly against the barely-sloped butt, turning rosy pink to angry crimson.
I set the hairbrush down on the small of her back, kneading her cheeks with my hand, squeezing her stiffening cock with my thighs, listening to her cries become sobs, and her sobs become sniffles.
"You can take the rest splayed out for me, little Kitten."
She gasps at my cruel decree. "Oh Daddy please." She cries again, but she knows her begging is fruitless.
I release her cock from it's prison between my thighs and sit her up. She turns to face away from me and spreads her legs wide. She wiggles and slides her feet back on the hard porcelain floor tiles until her long legs straddle my lap. She hinges at her waist, bending to drop her torso down between my legs, obscenely displaying her most intimate spots to me in vivid detail. Her angry red cheeks, giving way to the creamy white crack, spreading to display her winking puckered hole nestled between. Her scrote shrivels as she trembles before me, drawing her balls up tight in anticipation of the first punishing smack of the brush in this horrible new position. I can see her erection slowly growing, revealing her true excitement as she displays herself to me shamelessly.
I spread my stance and planted my feet, to prevent her from stepping forward. "Grab my ankles." I order with a growl. "If you let go early early you'll get the rest of the strokes on your tits."
"Oooh..." She whimpers at my words, knowing it will be her likely fate, but she valiantly grabs onto my ankles, exposing herself completely to me for punishment.
She gasps as I flip the hairbrush over to the bristle side and drag it across her beaten cheeks. She squeaks with indignation as I pull the harsh bristles down through her crack, across her sensitive rosebud, and down her hanging ballsack. I torment her like this for a few minutes, scrubbing pink lines onto her soft pale skin as she whimpers and gasps. Finally I end her suspense and begin her torment, bringing the paddle down on the taught skin of her cheeks.
"Aaayeeeeeh!" She screams at the first stroke. I feel her short fingers grasping harder at my ankles. I know now that I will break her, the rest is just a game. I vary my torment now. Instead of the fast, hard spanking she got over my lap I slowly stroke her bottom with the cruel oak brush, timing my strokes, calculating their location to truly punish her. As I begin to go low and target the subtle crease where cheek meets thigh I feel her fingers tighten their desperate grip on my ankles. I know I have her now. I steadily increase the speed and power, targeting one thigh and the other, back and forth, until finally after a particularly fearsome double whack, she breaks. She jumps up howling, dancing around the small bathroom, pawing at her upper thighs trying to rub the pain away.
"You came out of position before your spanking was finished, Kitten."
"Oh please, please, please, not my nipples Daddy." She plead as she danced. "Please not on my nipples!"
"Bring my bag." I commanded.
Sobbing, she composed herself and handed me a small black bag from the shelf. I unzipped it to withdraw a pair of handcuffs. "Noooooooo!" She screams. "Please don't cuff me and swat my nips Daddeeeeee! Pleeeeease!" She pressed her hands defensively over her flat chest and pink breastbuds. Her feet began to dance the little jig of pain on the floor again, causing her stiffening cock to bob obscenely.
"Kneel." My command was simple, despite her ostentatious display.
She knelt sobbing before me, knowing that her punishment could only be made worse by her delays. She offered her slim wrists to me, setting them in my lap, looking up pleadingly into my eyes. I silently clicked the cuffs onto her, pulling her up by the short chain now between her wrists. I stood, turning her to face away from me strategically. I held her close to my body, pulling her arms above her head by the cuffs. She was tall, but I was taller. I stretched her body to full extension. Her toes pushed up to relieve the stress I was putting on her arms. She danced and wiggled and humped against me, but to no avail.
"Ten with the handle on each nip, then I'll fuck you."
She gasped. "No Daddy, please not so many!"
"Trying for twenty, Kitten?" I growled into her ear.
She clamped her mouth shut obediently and squeezed her big eyes closed. Spinning the hairbrush in my hand I held the bristle-end and rubbed the handle across her tender buds. Her breasts were barely slopes, but her peach-colored little nipples stood proud, revealing her body's excitement at the prospect of more punishment. I stroked and rubbed her nips with the brush handle, tilting and teasing them, making them fully pop up for their smacks. Looking down her flat chest and tummy I could see her rigid nipples framing her stiff cock as it stuck out, bobbing awkwardly in front of her.
She sucked her breath as I laid the first smack onto her swollen, peachy tips. I worked her nipples over in sets of five; enough strokes to give her a burning fire, but not enough to fully immolate her slim body. She gasped and squealed, tears pouring down her cheeks, her feet pounding a fiery dance of pain into the floor. Finally she had suffered the ten strokes twice. I released her chain and she collapsed into me, gripping my dress shirt for support. She sobbed profusely as I held her.
I reached into the bag and withdrew her nipple clamps. Her jaw dropped as she locked eyes on them. "Ooooooh Daddy, do I hafta be clamped?"
"Yes, Kitten." I slipped my arm around her, just under her armpits, holding her firmly. She quaked with terror, never once looking away from the evil clamp in my fingers. I could feel her tense as I gave it a few test snaps. I dragged it along her rigid tips for what must have felt like an eternity to her before finally clamping the jagged little jaw on her right.
"Ha--ah--ahhh-hah-ahh--dahdeeee..." She was too stiff to dance, her toes curled against the tile as her body tensed, pushing all her focus into one tiny painful nip.
Reaching down I lifted the second clamp from where it hung off the short connecting chain. Her eyes bugged as she remembered she had a second clamp to go. She was unable to even beg, just gasping little "ahs" as I drug it across her left nip, teasing it mercilessly before locking down the wicked little jaws.
