His fingers are like vices. No nipple clamps can compete. And he rarely starts off gentle – he goes in right away and squeeze them hard to solicit the reaction he likes – my cry of surprise, my whimpering in pain.
I can hear his smirk without even looking when he asks, “What’s wrong, baby? Does that hurt?”
What I don’t say is “it hurts like a mother fucker, Daddy.”
I can’t say it.
I’m trying to handle the pain – ride the waves until it crashes onto that beach of pleasure that I like. I try to relax into it – let it carry me there, but it’s hard – fighting that urge to resist it all. I try to breath through it – moan through it – scream into the pillow as he squeezes and pulls and twists.
And without even looking or touching, I know he is smiling – I know his cock is hard – I know he loves it.
Then he will let go of them suddenly. The blood rushing into my nipples brings on a whole new sensation – a whole new pain. But I breath and try to recover from the endorphin rush that gives me – as I process the cane on my ass – or his hand – or his paddle.
When I feel his hand slide down my body towards my nipples again, I twist and I press flat – trying to do what I can to stop his fingers from latching on again. But it doesn’t matter, he finds his target none the less.
I cry out “No” but only hear back in a voice that tells me to take him seriously, “You don’t get to say ‘no’ – you know that.”
I try to cover my breasts – hide my nipples from his fingers. But he simply directs his attention elsewhere. Take that whippy cane in hand, and bringing down on my ass over and over and over again until it feels like it is cutting into my skin. He commands me to “Be a good girl” as his blows land on my ass in that same fucking spot, over and over again.
Until I realize, the only way to make it stop is to put my arms down – and give myself over to Daddy. To let him take my nipples between his fingers and abuse them as he sees fit. Submission is my only option. To be good and let him have his way.
So I give it to him. Willingly. Knowing that while it hurts – it will get better – knowing he will make that wave of pain take me to that place of pleasure. Knowing that he will take care of his girl – if only I let him.
So I let him by giving myself to him to abuse. To use.
And while it may sound like I hate it, my pussy drips for him. He know how to work my body to give me what I need.
I just have to let him.