Thanks to all the wonderful comments from my readers! I am overwhelmed by the response to these stories, and incredibly grateful for your encouragement and support.
I try to respond to anyone who is kind enough to comment, but the volume of mail may result in me missing someone. Please know it is not intentional and I am enormously appreciative of your feedback.
As always, comments are welcome. I hope you will enjoy the next chapter in the journey of this Suburban Cumslut.
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"Hurt me Daddy. Hurt me while I cum."
Daddy chuckled deeply. "My pleasure slut. My pleasure."
I moaned and pumped my hips lewdly, to demonstrate to my Daddy how incredibly hot and needy I was. My cunt announced that need with a full lipped scarlet smile and my clit was swollen to an almost unbelievable size. The entire length of it was engorged, and the throbbing column of woman flesh almost felt like a small cock jutting forth from the top of my dripping slit.
I reached down to retract the tender pink hood until the mini head was clearly visible.
"Look Daddy, look at my baby cock. It's so hard! Don't you want to hurt it? Please Daddy, hurt my pretty little baby cock."
Daddy laughed and said, "I certainly do want to hurt that baby cock. I want to hurt it so very, very badly. But how? How to make my sweet little whore scream for Daddy?"
Daddy pretended to be deep in thought. I shivered at what might be going through his mind; so many wonderful ways to be hurt, so much delicious cruelty to inflict upon my vulnerable, pouting womanhood. My nipples tingled with an intensity that was almost electric as I considered the likelihood of them becoming targets as well. I arched my back to show that they were up for offer along with my cunt.
"Oh my, we can't forget those little morsels now can we? My slut needs her lovely tits hurt as well, doesn't she?"
"Oh yes please, Daddy." I panted. I pinched my nipples hard between thumb and forefinger and pulled them upward until they were grossly elongated and my heavy breasts stretched into a conical shape.
"Hmmmm, I think Daddy has just the thing for that slutty little cunt and those hungry little tits. Hold them just like that slut."
Daddy disappeared for a moment, leaving me to stew in my own juices, so to speak. I heard him rummaging around in the toy bin, searching for whatever implement had stuck his fancy. I hoped it was the riding crop. I loved the deep, stinging bite and the lovely, vivid stripes that it made upon my pale, tender skin. If wielded properly, it caused no permanent damage, but left a sweet soreness for a day or so that was a delicious reminder of Daddy's commitment to my training and discipline.
I loved having a sore pussy and tender aching nipples, but until today, I had never had the courage to ask for the punishment I craved. I had always had to wait until Daddy was compelled to mete it out. Then, I had feigned protest, too ashamed to admit that I had been waiting eagerly for my Daddy to hurt me.
"Oh Daddy, please hurry, I need it so bad." I felt very bold as I expressed my longing.
Daddy reappeared at the side of the bed, carrying a slim black riding crop, with a cock shaped handle. I moaned with excitement at the sight of it.
"Hold those tits up, slut. Do not drop them. Do you understand?"
"Yes Daddy." I tightened my grip on my nipples to insure my obedience.
"And spread those legs nice and wide. I want that cunt ready to accept some more abuse."
I complied, eagerly. The first blow struck the underside of my right breast and immediately following, one fell upon the left breast in the same place.
The blows were hard; much harder than those Daddy had given me previously. My back arched against the pain and the breath hissed from between my teeth. Almost before the searing heat could register, a blow was delivered to the top of each breast. I writhed and hissed some more, but I maintained my hold on my strained nipples.
Daddy took his time beating my tits thoroughly; top, bottom and sides. Sometimes, he landed several blows in the same place, teasing me with the delicious agony, then moving on. I tried not to cry out, but I couldn't keep the moans, which were a combination of pain and lust, from escaping my lips. Each shriek, each stifled oath, each sob elicited a grin of satisfaction from my Daddy.
Finally, he was finished. My tits were on fire and were a suitable shade of crimson to attest to the searing heat. There was a satisfying ache deep in the core of each quivering mound of tit meat that promised to be very much in evidence for several days. I was gratified to know that the effects of my beating would linger. But I knew there was more to come.
"Drop those tits slut. Let's see what we've accomplished."
I complied. Now my nipples were exposed and vulnerable. He eyed them with a salacious leer.
"Very nice, slut. I love to see a pair of well beaten tits. But those nipples...Mmmmm. I think they need a few good, hard strokes. Don't you?
"Yes, Daddy."
"How many, whore? How many strokes do you deserve?"
That was a loaded question. Did Daddy mean, how many did I deserve as a reward for being such a good Cumslut and such a filthy, dirty girl? Or how many did I deserve as punishment for being a worthless, shitlicking whore? I didn't know how to answer. Too few would make him angry, as would too many. And though my cunt was wet with longing, I didn't honestly know how many I could take.
"Whatever you decide is best for me Daddy."
"Playing it safe, slut? You disappoint me. Fifteen hard strokes on each nipple. Cup your tits from below. Lift them up...that's right...offer them to your Daddy. Mmmmm, yes, just like cherries on a sundae aren't they whore? They won't look cherries when I'm done with them. Noooooo, I think they will look like sweet succulent plums, all purple and swollen."
I shuddered with anticipation and did as he said, cupping each breast and lifting my eager nipples to him. I waited for the pain; excited, afraid, longing, dreading.
"Count." He said, and then the first blow struck the turgid bud.
Sweet Jesus it hurt.
I screamed, forgetting to count as the sensation ignited a licking flame of desire that raced down my spinal column, unfurled in my arched pelvis, and curled sinuously into my cunt where it was consumed, but not extinguished, by a fresh flood of my female juices. I felt the warm fluid burst from the slick pink surface of my most intimate flesh and collect in the basin of my open, glistening hole.
Reflexively, I dropped my breasts and covered my vulnerable nipples. It was only an instant before I realized I had made a grave mistake.
"How dare you cover yourself, slut!" roared Daddy.
He stood above me with a dark look on his face. He reached down and buried his hand in the thick hair at the nape of my neck. Daddy tightened his grip slowly, until the there was no slack in the abundant tresses and the delicate skin was pulled painfully taut. Then he pulled my face close to his own, forcing me to look deep into his eyes. I could smell the warm, masculine scent he gave off, and feel the heat from his body.
"You asked for this whore. Remember?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"You begged me, didn't you whore?"
"Yes, Daddy."
"What do you have to say for yourself, you ungrateful little cunt?"
Fearful the delicious pain would be withheld from my stiff and yearning nipples, I did the only thing I knew to do. I began to plead with him.
"Daddy...I'm sorry! I didn't mean to cover myself! It was just a reflex, I swear. I am grateful Daddy, really I am. Thank you for beating my tits so well! I love the way they hurt so deep inside. I'm a very lucky painslut. Please don't stop! Oh God Daddy, please beat my nipples too. I want them to hurt for days, just like my tits Daddy. Please!"
I was near tears, which surprised me, as did the sincerity of my pleas. How such a thing had become so important to me was baffling and disconcerting. But the pain...it was so seductive. I needed more.
"I believe you, slut. And I'm glad to hear you're remorseful. I'll finish what I started, but there will be consequences for your insolence."
I was weak with relief, but wary of what punishment might be imposed for my transgression, which I knew to be quite grievous indeed.
"Get back up on your knees whore."
Confused, I nearly blurted out "Why?"...but managed to hold my tongue. I scrambled back to my knees, anxious to avoid displeasing Daddy further.
Without comment or preamble, Daddy again shoved his cock into my asshole. I gasped as his hot flesh made contact with the reddened, stinging tissue and then cried aloud as he thrust through the swollen, abused ring. Was this to be my punishment? Though undeniably sore, I could certainly stand another assfucking. The agony would be fierce, but sweet.
Daddy quickly disabused me of that notion, however. When he had seated his cock fully and firmly into my ravished rectum, he paused a moment, and then began to piss. The stream was powerful and copious and I immediately began to experience a painful cramping. It was a far different experience from the gentle cleansing enemas I often gave myself.
And yet...I was excited and titillated. I was being used as a urinal, a receptacle for the liquid waste from another body. It was the pinnacle of degradation and I loved it. Once again it seemed as if my every thought was somehow silently communicated to my Daddy.
"I think you're enjoying this, slut. You like being filled to the brim with hot piss. You like being a toilet for Daddy don't you?"
"It hurts, Daddy. It's giving me such bad cramps!"
"But you like it because you're a filthy piss loving whore, aren't you?"
"Yes Daddy"
"And you don't care which end it goes in, do you? It's all the same to you, as long as you end up with a bellyful of piss, isn't that right whore?"