Page 3 of Teach Me Daddy

“Nothing about me is little,” I say to myself, thinking he won’t hear me. But I’m quickly corrected.

“Don’t even think of saying something demeaning about yourself. No one gets to talk negatively about you, little one. Least of all, you.”

His words are clipped and I immediately clam up, wanting to be good for him but not sure why. And I like the nickname he’s given me. It makes me feel special, even though there’s thepossibility that he uses it with everyone. But somehow, I doubt it, if the heated look in his eyes is any indication.

Master Blake closes in, bringing his hand to my shoulder before skimming it down my spine. His palm is firm and warm, and I can’t resist arching into his touch. Then he chuckles softly, telling me that he likes the way that my body responds to him.

“I’m going to start now, nice and slow. Remember your safe word. What is it?”

My voice has taken on a sultry tone that I barely recognize. “Bananas.”

“Very good, little one.” I almost purr at his praise. “I’ll start light, but it will get more intense as I move over the different areas of your body. At any time, if you want or need me to stop, just say your safe word.”

“Will it hurt?” I’m more curious than I am afraid.

He leans forward and whispers in my ear, sending electricity through my body. “Do you want it to hurt?”

I briefly consider the option, then think better of it. “Maybe next time.”

“You’ll learn to crave it, but that’ll come later.” He kisses the side of my neck, pressing his bare chest against me, and I quiver. “Let’s begin.”

Taking a step back, Master Blake pauses a moment before dragging the soft strips of leather over my exposed skin. It feels cool against my heated flesh, leaving a wake of lust as my nipples harden to stiff peaks and wetness pools at the apex of my thighs. Then he delivers the first strike, which lands across my shoulder blades, and I tense with surprise. But I quickly relax as I try to sort through the multitude of sensations I’m experiencing. As soon as the tension leaves my body, I receive another blow. But each one is soft and thuddy, not sharp and biting like I expected. I enjoy it and immediately want more.

He targets different zones, moving along my back, the fleshy globes of my ass—where the impact is stronger—and over the backs of my thighs. Changing up his technique, he alternates strikes with brief reprieves where he skims the flogger across the surface of my skin. My body floods with pleasure and tingles all over as I fight the urge to squirm, needing more of what he’s giving me. I see now why he uses the cross to restrain his models because I feel like a live wire thrumming with sexual energy.

I force myself to stay still, aside from jutting my ass out a little, showing him where I want more attention. He notices my nonverbal cue and focuses his strikes exactly where I want him to, making my pussy drip with arousal. Just as my skin starts to feel numb, he puts more force into the blows, and I’m surprised to find that I actually like the sting of the leather.

Instead of tensing up, my body relaxes more and more with each lash delivered. Endorphins surge through me while his rhythmic pattern of strikes turns my muscles to jelly. I moan into the tension-filled air, my spine arching, my head falling back, and my eyes closing. I have no doubt that my skin is hot and red, and I wish that I could see it, see the proof of how he’s pleasing me.

But there’s something exciting about knowing thathecan see it, and I sense that he’s enjoying himself, even though he hasn’t said a word. I’ve watched him so many times on the stage that it feels as if I know his moods just based on the speed and force of his strikes. The way his breath hitches. His subtle groans barely audible.

I lose track of time as he flogs me, my mind buzzing with pleasure and pain. What I don’t expect is how this experience melts away all my stress and anxiety. All the expectations that I live with every day. The drama of my father’s political career and the pressure of starting my final year of college. It’s all gone forthese brief moments, and I realize that I feel safe here, nurtured and attuned to this man.

When the lashes become more forceful, I can’t hold back my cries of pain, but pleasure chases it, making me quiver as an orgasm begins to stir in my core. I can hear him grunting with each blow now, which he’s never done on the stage. Never with anyone else. And it gives me a sense of power and control I didn’t think I could have, being submissive. Submitting to Master Blake.

Then, he delivers a final blow and tosses the flogger aside. I glance at him over my shoulder as he closes the distance between us, his chest heaving and his eyes burning with lust. His hands land on my hips, and he presses a hot kiss between my shoulder blades.

My skin is sensitive, and I shiver at the contact as he continues kissing down my back and over my ass, everywhere that his flogger touched. It’s caring, as if he wants to kiss away any pain; yet it’s sensual and fervent, as if he’s fulfilling his own need instead of mine. It only adds to my desire, though, making me desperate for him to fill me with his cock. The sensations are overwhelming and I begin to pant, wanting to move and touch him too, while knowing I should stay exactly where he placed me.

Then, suddenly, he spins me around and lifts my curvaceous body with ease, tossing me onto the bed as if I weigh nothing. The burgundy satin sheets are cool and soothing against my heated skin, though I barely have time to notice as Master Blake lowers himself onto the bed on top of me. My legs spread wide with invitation, and the bulge in his pants presses against my weeping core. I gasp, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, massaging it along mine as I follow his lead.

My hands slide up his arms, tracing the muscles that I’ve stared at so many times over the last several weeks. His hips roll, and the friction against my clit sends pleasure shooting through me until it reaches the tips of my toes. Then, he breaks the kiss, but his mouth doesn’t leave my body, and I can barely breathe as he lavishes attention to my heavy breasts, sucking and licking over every inch. He moves from one to the other, and the wet pulse between my legs intensifies, igniting an ache deep inside me.

“You want more, little one?” His warm breath blows over my wet nipple.

I writhe beneath him, overcome with the need to feel him. “Oh God,” I cry out. “Fuck me, Master Blake. Please, fuck me.”

He growls against my skin before I hear a tearing sound. He’s torn my panties right off, and his hand dives between my legs. He instantly finds my clit, and my hips jerk at the contact.

“So responsive for me, aren’t you?” he whispers, his gaze flashing up to meet mine. “Such a good little girl.”

Something about the way that he says that makes me frantic, longing to feel his body joined with mine. He must feel it too, because he lifts off me and strips naked, then rolls on a condom that he pulls out of his pocket.

His dick is impressive, just as I knew it would be. Long and thick and veiny. Everything inside me clenches with need at the sight, and I’m thankful that he doesn’t keep me waiting.

Returning to the bed, Master Blake lifts one of my legs onto his shoulder and lines himself up with my entrance. His gaze never leaves mine when he sinks deep inside me, burying himself all the way to the hilt in one swift movement. I cry out in ecstasy as my pussy stretches around him, welcoming the intrusion.

“So fucking tight,” he grits out through his clenched teeth. “I could get addicted to this pussy and never want to give it up.”

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