Half Time

“Fred misses you.”

“I’m sure he does.”

“He does. He told me.  You should come into my bedroom and bend over my bed so Fred can tell you how much he misses you.”


“Come with me, plus it’s half-time….”

He took my hand to help me up off the couch, then turned down the TV while we walked by.  He led me into his bedroom where he moved his pillows to the edge of the bed and pushed me over them.

“Where are my nipple clamps…..” then I heard him shuffling through his toy bag.

“Please, Daddy – no nipple clamps.”

“Maybe they won’t be on your nipples….” then he chuckled as I squirmed.

I felt the leather paddle hit my ass in a rhythm meant to warm me up.  Over and over again, the sound of his paddle hitting my ass as the sounds of the football game were in the background.

When my ass was warm, he paused to run his hands over my ass – validating it was where he wanted it in terms of warmth.  Then I heard him go back to his bag to get something else.

The cane hitting my skin felt like it was actually cutting me.

“FUCK!!” was what escaped my lips.  But he caned me in a steady rhythm “I’m making you stripey”.  I had no doubt.

“I need my bigger canes…..stay there.”

I heard him go to his closet where I knew what he was getting.  The only other sound was cheering and announcements of the game and the sound of him shifting things around to get to the canes hanging in his closet.  Then I heard them hit the bed next to me.

Swish – swish

I heard him swinging the cane near me to fuck with my head.  Then he found my ass.  Hard – then a medium repeated strike – over and over and over again.  Then hard.


He only chuckled.  “Now I have you dancing….”

And he did.

I danced as he struck my ass.

He laughed.

I swore.

He hit me more.

And intermingling with our words, my moans and swearing, was the football game.

Our halftime that turned into the second half.

When we finally emerged from the room, the game was over.

My ass was read and stripey.

And my neck….oh fuck….my neck.  It was marked as well.

Our second half was more exciting.

At least the marks on my body tell a more exciting story.

What do you think?

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