Peppers

Daddy got home late that night. Yes, we had made plans, and yes, I knew that my bottom would be the worse for wear by the end of the evening. What I wasn't prepared for was the fact that he'd had a very long and trying day, and would be full of aggression and tension that needed release. One look at his face when I opened the door was enough to make my breath catch in my throat.

"Pet, you've been very naughty today." I opened my mouth to protest that I hadn't done anything, but he pressed one finger gently against my lips, to remind me not to interrupt.

"I had so much work to do today, and all I could think of was you here waiting for me in this nice little schoolgirl outfit. I knew we wouldn't want to go out, so I brought home fried chicken, but was so distracted that I paid, and left without the food. When I realized what had happened, I went back, and asked them to add some jalapenos to my order. I need to show you what happens to bad girls who break Daddy's concentration."

I backed up a step almost involuntarily, shaking my head no. His only response was "come and take off my shoes for me, Pet."

The simple, familiar task relaxed me, as kneeling at his feet always does. He stroked my hair, and asked me if I knew what the peppers were for. Of course I did, as we'd discussed it before, but I had always thought it was just a scare tactic. "But Daddy, it will hurt so much!"

"Not as much as what will come after, Pet."

This calm prediction brought my head up sharply, and I met his gentle eyes. I saw there what I always see; the man who loves me like no other, and gives me more pleasure than I've ever dreamed of. He held out his hand, and patted his lap, and I bent over his knee without a second thought. He pulled my skirt up, chuckled low in his throat when he saw my lacey white panties, and stroked my bottom gently, preparing me for the first blow. When it finally came, I was more than ready, and arched my back, wanting more, needing release.

All too soon, after no more than a dozen hard slaps of his hand, he stopped, and I was dismayed, as my skin was just starting to warm. He pulled me up, and to my knees, and spoke the words I had been dreading. "Bring me a pepper."

Once again, our eyes locked, and I looked for any sign that he was teasing me. There was none. The next step was the hardest. I know I always have a choice. He would not want a mindless slave, and the final decision is always mine. Refusing him now, though, would guarantee an end to our game, and we would probably end up with a much more mundane evening. There would be no punishment, no recriminations, and plenty of cuddling. There would also be no adventure. I would lie content in his arms, but spend sleepless hours wondering what would have happened. He knew damned well that I would not refuse him, but going to get the pepper was perhaps the longest walk I've ever taken.

The jalapeno held gingerly in my hands, I padded slowly back to him, my legs shaking, but my socks making no noise on the thick carpet. My heart was beating wildly, and time seemed to stand still as I finally took that last step, and handed him the pepper. "Now go get me a drink, and a wet washcloth." Glad for a reprieve, I scampered back to the kitchen and poured two fingers of Scotch over ice, stopping in the bathroom for a wet washcloth. I asked no questions, wanting nothing more than to please him now.

I handed him his drink and the wet cloth, not sure what to expect now, but he didn't give me much time to wonder. "Over the footstool, Pet." I knelt, and he pushed me over the cushioned stool, spreading my legs, and pulling the lace panties halfway down my thighs. I began to whimper as he pressed the pepper against my rosebud briefly, but almost immediately, he moved it to my pussy, which was soaked already, just from the brief spanking he'd given me. It occurred to me that maybe he was just trying to collect natural lubricant to ease the pepper's passage into my anus, but he rubbed it all around my outer lips, and across my clitoris. With only a couple of seconds delay, my pussy began to burn and throb, and he moved the pepper back to my tight sphincter, and began to push.

I cannot even begin to describe how something could hurt so badly, and turn me on so much at the same time. I began to cry, and begged him to stop, but at the same time I was writhing on the stool, my ass twitching like a bitch in heat. "Oh Daddy, it burns!" He removed the pepper, grabbed the washcloth, and with a firm motion, wiped the juices from my clit all the way back to my asshole. Ice from his drink washed away the last of the burn from my labia, but before I could breathe a sigh of relief, he shoved an ice cube into my ass, taking me from a hot burn to a cold fire.

Ice water had barely begun to drip from me before I heard the sound of his belt being pulled from his pants. Only a sub knows how magical that sound is, and how the very jingle of a belt buckle can trigger a rush of heat between our legs. I had little time to process the sound, though, before the first slap of the belt came, quickly followed by another and another. He did not spare the areas he'd already made tender with his hand, but soon worked his way down my thighs, as well. The combination of my still throbbing pussy, the sharp stings from Daddy's belt, and my own writhing, trying to dodge the blows, made for a potent sexual cocktail, and I found myself cumming with no warning at all. I surrendered to the inevitable, lost in the spasms, even knowing that I'd pay later for not asking.

"Subspace" is a word I've heard often, and am still not sure how to define. I do know that the sequence of events shifts in my memory, and I lose track of time when we play. At some point, he picked me up off of the footstool, and held me in his arms. "Daddy, you lied to me" I complained.

"How so, Pet?"

"You said that what went after would hurt more than the pepper. It didn't! The pepper hurt so much!"

"We're not done yet, Pet. We still need to address the fact that you came without permission."

I stiffened, and inhaled sharply, but his arms tightened around me, and he reminded me that I'd gone to a lot of trouble to move his desk in front of the full length mirror, as he'd asked that morning. He allowed me a few more minutes of cuddling, then told me to hop up and go bend over the desk. I did as I was told much more quickly this time, thinking that nothing could be worse than the fiery bite of the pepper. As I lay there, though, a pillow under my belly, and my cheek pressed to the cool wood of the desk, I had an eagle's eye view of Daddy laying out his tools. A leather strap, an extra long wooden paint stick, the leather flogger, and worst of all, the cane. He knew what the anticipation always does to me, and took his time tying me to the table. First spreading my ankles as far as they would go, then fastening them tightly to the legs of the desk. My wrists were next, and by the time he was through, not only was I completely immobilized, but in very real danger of dripping on the floor. The final step was a handkerchief gag, because I am noisy under the best of circumstances, and we both knew that this was not such a time.

The flogger came first, and the sting was worse than I could ever remember it. I couldn't escape it, and couldn't even cry out, except for muffled sobs. It felt like a swarm of angry bees on my back and hips, but then he switched his stance, and began to bring it up between my legs. After the third direct hit to my wide open cunt, I was considering using my safe sign when a second orgasm hit my swollen throbbing clitoris out of nowhere. Daddy has the amazing ability to read my body like a book, and the next thing I remember was him pulling my head up gently, and showing me the cane. My fingers were still gripping the rope tightly, and I felt his hand on mine, unclenching my fist. He gently manipulated my fingers into a peace sign, silently reminding me of my safe signal.

Even had I been able to speak, I would have had no words to express my love for him then. As deeply into the moment as we both were, his first concern was for my safety, and he needed to reassure himself that I was okay. I met his eyes in the mirror, and nodded slightly to tell him that I was all right. "I want you to watch, Pet. You need to see it coming."

I've had it both ways, and I honestly believe it's worse to see the cane in the air, rushing at me. The first lash was white hot, and as always, the pain radiated out from the initial blow. He gave me time to register every nuance of the sensation before he stroked my ass with the cane, selecting the next spot. He watched me closely in the mirror as the cane fell again, harder than before. I bucked against the desk, straining in my bonds, but there was really nowhere to go, and it felt as if every nerve ending in my body had been fired by the cane.

I honestly love sucking Daddy's cock, but I was mostly relieved when he pulled the gag out and replaced it with his erection. I licked and sucked greedily, not just to please him, but also to keep the cane at bay. He pushed to the back of my throat again and again, counting slowly, letting me know how long before I could draw another breath. When he pulled away and picked up the paint stick, I cried "No, Daddy, please, no more?" His response was just to pull the handkerchief back into my mouth, and tell me that I wasn't done.

I honestly don't remember how many times he hit me, but I do know that by the time Daddy entered me, even he was surprised at how wet I was. He quickly decided that my wrists and ankles had suffered enough, though, and gently untied me, piling up pillows in the middle of the bed, and pushing me face first over them. The handkerchief came out of my mouth, much to my relief. He rummaged around in the toy drawer, pulled out a plug, and lubed it up thoroughly before sliding it firmly into my ass. Knees on either side of my thighs, he pushed my legs together, and entered me slowly, my hot flesh against his exciting to us both.

He fucked me as mercilessly as he'd caned me, enjoying the feel of the plug against his cock, separated only by a thin membrane. He pounded me harder and harder, but I felt no pain, only exhilaration. He owns me, and the pleasure I receive when he proves it never ceases to amaze me. I came once again, this time so hard I thought sure that the bed would shake. Finally when I thought my ragged nerve endings could take no more, he slammed violently into my pussy one last time, and the fit was so tight that I felt his spasms inside me. He made a move to get up, but I begged him to stay, and he lay full on top of me, his weight pinning my sore body to the bed.

I came down to earth slowly, sated and sleepy, held securely by the man who owns me, because I would have it no other way.