Content Warnings: degradation, bondage, gagging, spit, cum play, breeding kink, camera sex, marijuana smoking, Daddy kink, language like fucktoy, slut, whore, and good boy
This story contains Daddy/boy kink and a squirting strap-on. Don't like it? Don't read!
"You look handsome," you say, coming up behind me in the mirror as I adjust my bowtie. You're in a classic suit and tie for the opera tonight: black suit, white shirt, black tie, your nice cane. Your short hair is smoothed back and you're wearing a smirk, looking me up and down with a hunger that makes me ache.
"You clean up nice yourself, hottie," I reply. I reach to tug on your tie, pulling you into me. Your breath is warm on my face, and you smell like mint and aftershave. My eyes flutter closed and I lose myself in the heat and scent of you. You nudge your lips closer to mine and lift my chin, kissing me slowly, gently, in the way that makes me melt into you. When you feel my knees get weak, you hold onto me tight, kissing me harder. I whimper.
It spurns you on and suddenly my back is pressed against the wall, your knee shoved between my legs. You lean your cane in the corner and come back to me, pressing your hot mouth to mine. In a flash, you untie my bowtie and get to work on my shirt buttons, your mouth working down my jaw to my neck.
I start to protest, "But --" and you shush me, talking dirty in my ear as you work open my shirt.
"You look way too sexy, baby, for me to let you go unfucked right now. Daddy wants to fuck you, so Daddy's going to fuck you. Do you understand, baby?"
Heat flashes through my body and I surrender to the pleasure of it, of you. "Yes, Daddy..."
"Good boy," you growl. You've finished unbuttoning my shirt and you yank it open, dipping your head to reach my nipple and gently lick and suck. I gasp, winding my fingers through your short hair. Whimpers and groans escape my throat.
"You like that, baby?" you ask me, switching to my other nipple.
"Yeah," I moan, my voice shaking. "Please," I whimper.
"Please what, baby?" you ask in a sweetly condescending voice.
"Please --" I repeat, not knowing what I'm begging for.
You laugh meanly. "What? Speechless, huh? Don't know what to ask for?"
I whine.
"That's okay, baby. I can decide for you."
You wrap a hand around my throat, and reach down to rub my cunt through my suit pants.
"Oh God," I moan. "Oh God," I repeat, higher pitched. "Fuck, fuck."
"Such a cute little slut for it," you say with a grin. I moan. "Well?" you ask. "Do you agree? Are you a cute little slut?"
I blush red and stammer. "Y-yes, Daddy."
"Say it."
"...I'm a cute little slut."
"Yeah you are," you groan.
I'm disheveled, bowtie undone, my shirt shoved open and my chest out, my pants wrinkling from you rubbing my crotch. Your suit, meanwhile, is pressed and crisp. I think about this, and I reach for your jacket to try to tug it off. You grab my wrists to stop me, snarling, "What do you think you're doing?"
"I-- Sorry, Daddy."
"Now, if you can't keep your hands to yourself, am I gonna have to tie them up?"
Heat washes over me. You haven't let go of my wrists. My mouth is dry.
"Well?"
"Yeah, Daddy," I say slowly. "You should... I can't keep my hands to myself."
Your eyes flash with lust and you grin.
"Good boy."
You disappear to the closet to grab the sex toy bag and come back holding the leather cuffs, dangling them on your fingers.
"Kneel," you order. My eyes go wide and I obey, getting to the floor and holding my wrists out in front of me. "No," you say. "Behind you."
I put my hands behind my back and bow my head, waiting quietly as you cuff my wrists. I'm still in my full suit, now wrinkled, heart pounding out of my chest, throbbing between my legs.
"Up," you order, tugging on my cuffs. I stand and you shove me against the wall, growling in my ear. "You dirty little slut. You like this, don't you? You like me roughing you up and ruining your cute little suit, huh?"
I whimper.
"Say it," you order.
"Yes, Daddy, I like it," I whine.
"Good boy," you murmur in my ear, reaching into my shirt to twist and tug on my nipples. I squirm and whine at the pain and pleasure that shoots through me. Your other hand busies itself with unbuttoning my pants. I feel the throbbing between my legs growing, the excitement and anticipation building. I want your fingers in me now, but I know I have to be a good boy and wait.
When your hand reaches into my pants to rub me through my boxers, I curse and jerk my hips into your touch.
"What was that, boy?" you ask.
"I said 'fuck', Daddy," I answer. The silence that follows is loud. "B-but I meant to say," I add, "Thank you, Daddy."
"That's better, boy," you say, rubbing the wet spot on my boxers until I'm moaning.
"Thank you, Daddy, thank you, thank you," I whimper.
"Nice manners, boy. I'm impressed. Now be a good boy, and bend over for your spanking."
I swallow. You tug me by my wrist cuffs and shove me down onto the bed, tugging my pants down and my underwear too. I feel the cool air hit my wet cunt and I almost moan.
"What do you want, slut? Boy's choice of flogger, paddle, or hand."
"Paddle," I answer quickly. I like the thuddy hits.
"What, no 'please, Daddy'? I take back what I said about your manners."
"Sorry, Daddy. Please, Daddy, the paddle, please?"
"Better," you growl.
You grab the paddle and smack your hand with it, and I twitch a little at the sound. You laugh meanly. "Jumpy?"
I whine. You laugh and smack your hand again.
"Count them."
You smack my ass, hard. I gasp, and gather my voice. "One, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy."
"Good boy."
You hit my other cheek, harder. I groan. "Two, Daddy, thank you, Daddy."
By ten, I'm squirming and panting.
"Your ass is so fucking red already, boy. It's so sexy."
"Thank you, Daddy..." I moan as you grope and massage my sore, sensitive ass. I can feel how wet that spanking made me even without being touched.
"Let's find out how wet that made you, hmm?" you muse, like you're reading my mind. Your finger trails up my slit and I can't help the moan that slips from between my lips. "Oh you dirty little slut. You filthy whore. That's all it takes, huh? A little spanking and you're soaked?"
I whine, my face pressing into the bed, my arms straining against my bonds. "Yes, Daddy. That's all. I'm a filthy slut for it..."
You laugh. "Yeah you are."
"Please, Daddy, please finger me."
"Greedy little slut. You think you've earned being fucked already, boy? I don't think so. I think you deserve another five smacks for that."
A little thrill runs through me.
"Yes, Daddy..."
I count each strike, and they sting.
"Five, Daddy. Thank you, Daddy," I say when you finish.
"That's a good boy," you praise. "I want some pictures of this nice, red ass. How do you feel about that?"
I throb. I feel very, very hot and turned on about that.
"Yeah, Daddy. You can take pictures," I say, playing it cool.
You pull out your phone and I feel my cunt grow wetter with every click of the camera.
"I want pictures of this ruined suit, too, at the end of the night."
My breathing grows fast at the promises, both that you'll take more pictures and that you're going to ruin me in this suit.
"Yes, Daddy," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
You lean down and murmur in my ear, "I like how your voice gets all breathy and deep when you're turned on, boy." I guess I didn't keep my voice as steady as I thought.
The smell of your cologne and the hum of your voice in my ear make me shiver. My clit throbs.
"Well, are you?"
"Yes, Daddy," I moan.
"Good. You can wait."
I whine.
"Oh, cute whine, prettyboy..."
You leave me on the bed and I hear the rustling of the sex toy bag.
"I'd like to hear your whines with this gag in your mouth," you say, dangling a ring gag in front of my face. "Do you want that, baby?"
"Y-yes, Daddy..."
"You remember our hand signal, babe?"
"Yeah," I answer. Three flashes of my fingers.
"Good boy," you praise. "Sit up." I do, waiting quietly and opening my mouth as you put the ring gag on me, wrapping the leather straps around my head and tightening them.
"Comfortable?" you ask. I nod. "Good. Now you're gonna sit there and look pretty, and I'm gonna have a smoke." I want to whine; I was hoping for some stimulation or even more pain, anything but nothing.
You pull up a chair from the corner and pull a joint and a lighter from your suit jacket. Always prepared. You sit down and bring your ankle to rest on your other knee, relaxing, lighting up the joint and taking a long inhale.
"Oh, boytoy..." you start to say. You take another puff. "You look so filthy and pathetic right now." You laugh. "If only you could see yourself."
I feel spit begin to gather at my bottom lip, dribbling out onto my chin.
"Aww, prettyboy drooling for me... That's a good fucktoy. Drool all over that fancyboy suit for me, babe."
The drool begins to drip down my chin. I whine. My hands strain behind me against their cuffs.
"Ohh," you laugh. "Yeah, handsome. Whine like that for me." I do, so pitifully, and you laugh more.
You puff on the joint and exhale a big white cloud. I watch it form and dissipate. I breathe in through my nose, smelling the skunk and feeling more drool dribble down my chest and the front of my suit jacket.
"You know, prettyboy," you say, taking another inhale. "There's a lot I can do with you right now, tied up and gagged. I could strap a remote vibrator to your clit. I could paddle your thighs... your cunt. I could fuck you with my cock. I could put cute little clamps on your nipples..."
You trail off, lost in thought. I whine and squirm.
"That's right, prettyboy. I can do whatever I want with you. And you like that, don't you? You like being powerless, at my mercy. Hopeless fucking dyke."
More whines escape me. You're not wrong.
You're smoking the last of the joint now, and my drool has made a mess of my jacket and shirt.