It started out simply enough. A few comments about how lucky I was to have such a hot girlfriend. That he couldn't believe how cute and sexy, and absolutely devoted to me she was. I agreed, nodding sagely that I felt really lucky, that she was the love of my life and I could barely remember how things had been before.
A couple of days later I was flicking through a couple of pics Little Red had sent. They were innocuous enough. Cute things, with those damn filters that put ears and whiskers on you when you take the photo. She loved them, and while I wasn't always sure, she did seem to hit the mark more often than not when it came to looking amazingly cute. Next thing I know Michael is stood at my shoulder looking at Red's pics with me.
"Damn", I wish my wife was half as willing to play like this. Don't remember the last time she sent me a pic, much less a playful one".
"Oh, I usually get at least half a dozen a day. She knows I like them, because I make sure to tell her I do. She loves to do things for me, just because I like them."
I'm continuing to scroll through the pictures, knowing that there are one or two slightly racier ones just a little further down. I pause briefly on one. It's a pic of Red wearing a sexy black dress, loads of cleavage on display, bright red lips pursed. Around her neck is the collar I made for her, locked in place with a little heart shaped padlock. She looks hot enough to melt an iceberg and she knows it.
"Hell's teeth", he exclaimed. "Never seen her looking like that. Where was this taken?"
"Couple of weeks ago. We went out for the night, dressed up, went to a club paraded her round on my arm looking like that. You could almost sense the men wanting her, but she was with me. Mine."
"How come we never go to places like that?", he asked almost accusingly.
"Not sure it your scene. The clientele were a bit. . . specialist", I evaded.
"Oh, come on, more special than some of our friends?"
"No, but different. . ."
I'd been scrolling a little further than I intended and the screen showed another picture of Red. This time she was dressed in a corset, stockings, and fuck me heels. Her breasts were overflowing from the top of the corset as she leaned forward laughing. I left it on screen for a second or too, just to make sure he'd got a quick look before killing my phone and getting up to go make a coffee. An idea was beginning to form in my head, but I was going to need Red's input to help make it happen. I didn't think that would be a problem however, as she is a saucy little minx who will do anything to please me, or herself for that matter.
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I got home that night and was met at the door by the little tornado that is my love. She threw herself into my arms and demanded to know why I was late home from work.
"Who have you been seeing?"
"Don't you love me anymore?"
"You've been away ages and ages and ages".
"What if I'd starved to death, or the man from number 23 had come over and raped me and left me for dead? Then you'd be sorry".
I looked at my watch and saw that it was only just after 6, my nominal time for getting home from work, but Red always did have a melodramatic side, especially when she was feeling little and in need of attention.
"I got here as quickly as I could. The traffic wasn't too bad, but there was a hold up at that junction near Morrisons. Now, let's see. . . One, you know I love you to distraction. You are the light of my life, my reason for being, the only girl I have eyes for. Two, I have not been seeing anyone, see answer one for the reason why. Three, I am not late. I am a wizard and neither early nor late, but I have arrived exactly when I meant to".
She snorted at the LotR reference.
"And four, if indeed Mr Pathanaikos from number 23 had come over here I would be way more worried for his health than yours. He is in his eighties and while I don't doubt my sexy little girl could get him all revved up and ready to go, I doubt his heart could take the strain that even an hour with you might place upon it."
I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.
"There, I think that covers just about everything, don't you?"
I looked at her expectantly. It was all a game we played. She the wronged little girl, me the gently chiding Daddy, keeping her in line.
"You forgot I was starving to death", she pouted accusingly. "Look, I'm positively wasting away here". She did a twirl on the spot causing the kimono wrap she was wearing to flare out revealing she was naked beneath it apart from some hold-ups and fluffy slippers. It was clearly going to be one of those nights.
"Exactly how long have you been home today Princess?", I asked. "Only you seem awfully. . . 'relaxed' for someone freshly in from work."
"I finished at four today. Been home since half past, and you've been gone forever and I'm starving". She wrapped herself around me head pressed into my chest. "What is there to eat Daddy. . .?"
It was an artful position. It made her look small and vulnerable, yet at the same time left her breasts pressing into my side, and her pussy grinding on my thigh. She knew there wasn't much I could do to resist her when she started down that route
"Well, that's a question with lots of different answers baby girl. But right now, I think the thing you clearly need most, is me. Perhaps we should take this up to the bedroom and we can discuss exactly what you are going to be eating. . ."
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Up in the bedroom I pushed the door closed, pressing her back against it. She let out a little gasp and I leaned in to kiss her. Her soft lips parted in welcome and there were soft little moans as my hand closed around her breast and I kissed her more deeply. I could feel the way she was responding to my touch. She was on fire tonight, desperate and needy.
On a hunch I slid my hand down her body, parting the kimono so that I could reach her pussy. I intended to slide a finger inside her, see if she was ready for a quickie, but I only had to cup her mound and I could feel she was dripping wet.
"Have you been a good girl today Princess?", I asked, breaking the kiss and looking down into her eyes. She looked away and bit her lip guiltily. Guilty, that was a laugh, she'd never regretted one kinky thing she'd done the entire time I'd known her.
"Princess? Daddy's waiting. Have you been a good girl. . . while I was out", I added at the last, trying to narrow down the sins she might choose to confess.
"Yesss. . ." her voice quavered, and she still refused to look at me.
"Princess, you know you have to tell Daddy the truth, don't you? Otherwise I'll get cross."
"Mmmmhmmmm. . .", she murmured, squirming under my gaze.
"So. . . is there anything you need to tell me? Any reason I might think you'd not been a good girl?"
"Oh Daddy! Yes. . . yes I did something, but it wasn't my fault, it was really your fault for being so late home. If you'd been home earlier, it would never have happened, so really it isn't my fault. . ."
"So there is something then? Out with it little one, or you'll be going to bed early with no dinner tonight".
"I. . . I had. . . well . . . you see. . . I was feeling so needy. . . and you weren't here. . . and I didn't know when you would be here. . . and if you'd even want to. . . so you see. . ."
"Out with it Princess", I snapped, a little more firmly. Her eyes widened as she looked up at me going momentarily softer, before being downcast once more.
"I had cummies before Daddy got home", she mumbled shamefacedly.
"You had cummies, here at home, without asking my permission first?"
"Yes Daddy, with my pink toy with all the ridges."
"And do you think that is appropriate behaviour for my little Princess?"
"No Daddy"
"If I hadn't asked, would you even have told me?", I asked, forcing as much outrage into my voice as I could in the face of her being so adorably shamefaced.
"Maybe. . .", she whispered, seeming to shrink even smaller.
"I think you'd have let me remain completely oblivious. Been proud of yourself even for managing to get one over on me, for being so clever as to fool me".
"No Daddy! It wasn't like that, really it wasn't. I'm sorry. I should have asked, I know I should, but I really wanted, no I really needed to", she blustered trying to find a way out of the situation that was unfolding.
"You're sorry? No I don't believe that for a minute. Well you're not sorry yet, we'll see how you feel in a few minutes."
I slid the step we kept by the bed to the middle of the foot of the bed. Red is small by anyone's standards, and we'd soon discovered the benefits of a step, just to raise her up a few inches.
"Come on, up on the step. Quickly now before I get any more cross with you. I think perhaps you need a quick lesson in who is the Daddy in the house, and who has to do as they're told".
I went to the drawer and took out some rope.
"Now, bend over the foot-rail of the bed, arms out to your sides."
The bed was a metal framed affair from Ikea, but has some unfortunate protuberances on the top of the rail, so a little while ago I'd taken the precaution of padding it with a section of pipe insulation. With Red on the step she was able to bend over the rail comfortably and stretch her arms out toward the bedposts on either side.
Carefully, but securely I tied each of her wrists to the bedposts, and then for good measure I bound her thighs to the vertical bars in in the frame.
"There we are Princess, all secured and ready for your punishment. What should it be tonight? Dishonesty usually warrants the cane does it not?".
"Noooooo. No Daddy, not the cane. I promise I'll be a good girl. I promise!", she started wriggling at that point, but those hours practicing the rope work had not been wasted, and no matter how she wriggled, she was held firmly in place.
"Not the cane? Are you sure Princess? It feels like it should be. . .", I had no intention of caning her tonight. I was right when I said the cane was for being dishonest with me. This was more of a game we were playing than an actual punishment. I was briefly disappointed that the custom flogger we'd ordered had not yet arrived, but then you can't rush quality workmanship.
"No Daddy, no cane, pleeeeeease. . .", she whined.
"Hmmm. . . very well", and I reached into the toybox and took out the paddle. It was broad and smooth, quite heavy and more 'thuddy' than 'stingy' as she would describe it.
I slid the cold paddle up her legs, sliding it under the kimono. She tried to pull away from it's touch, but obviously couldn't. As I slid up up over her cute round little ass, I flicked the material of the kimono up, so it fell around her back and shoulders, completely exposing her bare behind and stocking clad legs.
"So, how many times did you cum Princess? How many times did you break the rules?".
"Three", came back the mumbled reply.
"Three times? Three? Very well Princess, for each time, I think I will spank you six times with the paddle. How many times is that Princess?"
