Daddy’s Kitten

Daddy opens the door and leads me upstairs to his playroom. It’s my favorite room in the apartment and thinking of it has moisture pooling between my thighs. Daddy says I have been such a good girl lately and I was about to be rewarded; he wants to play. I love being his kitten and every time he said my name, Keatyn, we shared a secret smile.

The best part of my day is coming home to him and stripping to my knickers, his collar around my neck. The smell of leather teases me as we enter the room, reminding me why it is my favorite place; I could never tire of being in here. He pulls me close, raising my gaze to his, boring into my eyes and I know I would forever belong completely to him only.

He kisses me, causing a hitch in my breathing and making my knees weak. Everything fades to the background and there is just him; his touch, his feel, his smell, his taste. He breaks the kiss and forces me to my knees,
“It’s play time, kitten.”
He undoes his belt and I suck in air as I see his hard dick. I reach out and fill my mouth with it, taking in as much of him as I can, lips and tongue sucking, hands stroking his balls as I look up at him. On some days, he would let me touch him while I sucked his dick, other times I was nothing but an outlet for release for him. He could be playful with me or forceful, a hole for him to fuck. He loved to watch me plead with my eyes while he choked me with his dick and I gagged. I know my place and I love being daddy’s slut.

Tonight, however, he wants to play and my actions are to spur him on and get him even harder. His smell and taste make me even wetter as I bob up and down on his dick, slobbering over his hard length. He doesn’t move but wraps my hair in his hand, guiding my head and slowing me down, my cue to stop as he is harder. I taste his precum just before I get to my feet, drooling slightly, my lips glistening.

“Hands behind your back!”

He walks away and returns, behind me and I feel a scratching along my spine, exciting me. Daddy is very good with the rope. It snakes around my wrists and my torso, weaving through my legs and over my shoulders. He tightens the knots and stands back to admire his creation. I feel beautiful and proud, his work of art. I revel in the security of the rope and the freedom that lay in the bondage. It is something I could never explain to anyone, and the very words didn’t seem to make sense, but the feeling did.

He leads me to the incline bench.

“Face down.”

When it comes to instructions, Daddy is curt and to the point. We hold lengthy conversations but in the playroom, the roles are simple; He instructs, I obey.
He positions me such that my head is at the bottom of the incline and secures my feet to the floor; my ass is raised even higher with a bolster secured under her hips. I sighed deeply, knowing I would feel the sting of the strap, or belt, or flogger, or crop, whatever implement he decides to use.

“It’s the crop tonight. Fifteen, to add some heat to those cheeks. Count!”

“Yes, Sir.”

I feel him rub it against my hip. It was slim and long with a flat end, and I know its very intense strokes from experience, depending on the force it is delivered with. He walks up to my face,

“Give it a little kiss”

I gently kiss the soft leather. He walks to my ass, trailing the crop along my skin.

“Here we go.”

And with that, the first stroke!

No matter how many times we play, no matter how he warns me it is coming, the first stroke always takes my breath away. They continue and I count them all, gasping in between each contact. He pauses occasionally to feel the heat coming of my cheeks, the soothing gentleness of his palm a sharp contrast of the sting of the crop against my skin.. Then the strokes continue. Tears form in my eyes and I try to hold them back, moaning out, “Fifteen Sir, thank you Sir”, sobbing. I hear him exhale in satisfaction. He drops the crop and unstraps my legs. Helping me up, he puts me in the corner and stands behind me, one hand caressing my cheeks, teasing my nipples and slipping lower to feel my wetness while pulling me into him.

He kisses my neck, the pulsing at my throat and bit my earlobe lovingly, then whispered in my ear, “Yes, that is my good girl, yes, good kitten.”

The tears dry up but my pussy does not. I was wet when he had opened the door, I had become wetter as I slobbered on his dick, and I am positively dripping now. Still securely tied, Daddy leads me to the couch. He strips and I enjoy the moment, drinking him in.

He sits down and helps me straddle his lap. My balance is off while so securely tied. He positions my hips directly above his large, hard dick, and lowers me onto it. He loves the look on my face when he takes my pussy. It doesn’t happen very often. He likes my mouth and adores fucking my ass. Plus, him not fucking my pussy keeps me needy, always hungry for his dick. When he does fill me up, my head lulls, my eyes roll to the back of their sockets, and my body positively trembles.
How another human being can have control over my actions with a single movement never fails to blow my mind. Right now, all I can think of is the pleasure coursing through my veins.
Daddy begins to move his hips ever so slightly, and I match his rhythm with mine. His hands run up and down my back, caressing my skin, while he nips my breasts and tugs on my nipples with his teeth. The moans escaping my mouth were an aphrodisiac to him, spurring him on. He thrusts harder, but still in rhythm while we moved in our own passionate dance for what seemed like hours, content to enjoy each other’s bodies.
Daddy slows his movements and his caressing turns to untying the knots that bound me. He is so good with his hands that it isn’t necessary to see, he instinctively knows where to go and what to do to release me. He is gentle, though every time the rope rubs against my still hot bottom, I flinch a bit.

“Get up and over the arm of this couch.”

“Yes, Daddy,”

I peel myself off of him and position myself over the arm of the sofa, arms stretched out in front of me, legs spread, my ass on display. Daddy walks over and opening up a drawer, he pulls out a high powered vibrator.

Walking over to me, he plugs in the toy and turns it on, low. I heard it turn on, but it didn’t stop me from jumping when he places it on my sensitive clit.

“Stay still, kitten. Don’t even think about cumming without permission.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I moan.

He smacks my butt; there is no rhythm, no pattern, no set number. He watches my reaction. The pleasure of the vibe coupled with the sting of the strokes and I don’t know which way to feel or what sensations to focus on. He can see me struggle to stay still and he turns up the toy. I moan. I am close and I know I won’t last much longer.

“Please Daddy, please may I cum?”

“Not yet, kitten, hold on”

He turns it up. More strokes, the intensity increases.

“Please Daddy, please may I cum?”

“Not yet, kitten!.”

He turns it up again, higher than he has ever used on me before and continues to pepper my cheeks with strokes. I am squirming and needy and I see from his hard on that he is loving every moment.

My moans become whimpers when he removes the vibe and walks away. I am frantic but hold my position until told otherwise. He returns quickly and I feel him spread my cheeks and cool lube cover my rosebud. I almost cum right there, knowing what would follow. His fingers begin to penetrate and stretch me and it doesn’t take long for me to be ready for him.

The tip of his dick enters me and slides all the way in. I hear a moan escape his lips and I smile and bite my lip. He regains his composure quickly and begins to fuck me with complete abandon. I grab the cushion.

“Please Daddy.”

Harder and harder, he slams into me and I hear his unspoken response; I can’t come until he lets me. I am on the brink, not sure I can take his dick slamming into me one more time without my walls spasming and cumming. I can literally feel my pussy throbbing in time with my heart.

“Please, please Daddy, please may I cum, please?”


I am vaguely aware that his cum is shooting deep into my bowels. I lose all sense of time and space, only sensation. My burning ass, being stuffed full and feeling him deep inside me, the warmth, my skin feels electric.
The next thing I know, Daddy is picking me up off the floor and cradles me in his arms. He carries me down the stairs, all the way to our room. He lays me gently on the bed and cleans me up. He slides in behind me, pulls up the sheet around us, turns out the light, wraps his arms around me.

“You are my kitten. Goodnight, my love.”

“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered. “Thank you for playing with me tonight.”


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