Page 6 of Sugar Daddies

He questions lightly, “Why don’t you like it?” My lips wobble in confusion.

I’m presented with a dilemma; I could say I enjoyed Mr. Stephan’s hand and get punished for letting another man touch me or I could lie and say I didn’t, but I would get spanked for not telling the truth.

I’m stuck either way.

“Only Daddy can touch me,” I stick to the rule that he set down earlier in our relationship.

He chuckles, dark and growly as my nipples tighten under my bra. I’m greedy for his love, so I wrap my arms around his neck to scoot closer to him. He indulges on my needy behavior with a kiss to my lips and an edging to my panties.

I close my legs as I hope he gets the message that this is not the time to touch my underwear. They’re too wet, and I won’t be able to explain it to him that it’s a normal body reaction when it comes in contact with something it likes.

My body likes being spanked, and Daddy knows that too well. He knows that I have to change my panties several times throughout the day when he’s in a particularly sadistic mood and teases me until I’m begging for his big cock to stretch my tiny pussy.

“Daddy, no…” I shake my head and push his advancing hand away from the side of my shorts.

His eyes darken at my resistance as he stares deep into my eyes, and I swallow with difficulty when he stops his fingers just at the frilly lace under my shorts.

He sneers with a mean smirk, “Are you hiding something from me?”

I can’t help but nod.

The white planes of his teeth stretch with a figment of my imagination shattering around the image of a gentle dominant. Daddy is a difficult man to read; he contradicts himself in many ways, and when I think he’s one thing, he goes in the opposite direction.

He slaps my butt, and I jump off his lap, the pain spans across the size of his hand as the aching shoots down to my toes. When I keep my gaze down on my socks, I steer clear of the clean glare of his shoes. It’s so clean that I can almost see my own reflection, and it’s not the best time to remind myself of how red my face is; I canfeelit.

“Pants off,” Daddy hisses, and I immediately find the waistband of my shorts.

It pools on my feet, and he makes me step out of it. The pair of cotton pink panties hug my hip as he clasps both hands around my thighs. From his seated position, I have no doubt he can see the wet patch and his smirk says it all.

He’s angry.

“Sit your ass on the desk,” Daddy commands, and my body does what it’s told.

I shiver at the cold mahogany desk pressing on my butt as the heel of my hand knocks against the keyboard. My knees press tight to stop him from looking at the humiliatingly dark spot, but he pries my legs open with easy strength.

“You fucking dirty, little girl,” he sneers as his nails dig into the tenderness of my thighs.

The shot of pain tips my hips up. I try to push my shirt down to cover it and hope that he wouldn’t be too mad about my body having a reaction to Mr. Stephan’s ministration.

“You like being touched by another man.” He pulls my panties to the side, and the cool air brushes against my sensitive folds.

They’re still red and swollen from yesterday’s brutal love-making, and the soreness heightens with the slick running from my tiny hole.

A calloused thumb roughly pushes down on my throbbing clit, and my elbows give up on supporting me. I start trembling as my back hits the keyboard. The little keys dig into my back, but the shirt has a bit of cushion, so it doesn’t hurt too badly.

“I-I don’t!” I squeal in discomfort. Daddy rubs faster with the intention of killing me slowly.

I’m sensitive to touch on a daily basis, but it’s even worse when Daddy has been using my tiny pussy for his cum to stay in. Sometimes, he’s nice and lets me off with a warning when I do something bad, but he doesn’t give second chances a lot.

It’s why everything below my waist is aching all the time.

Daddy is a big, mean man.

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he snaps and throws the chair back as he shoots up.

He glares down on me with a ferociousness of a beast, hungry and impatient as he takes his cock out. My mouth waters at the veiny girth and I want to feel the heaviness on my tongue as I suck on him, but he has something else in mind.

“You want me to punish you, don’t you,” it’s not a question in the tone he says it, and my heart leaps several beats.

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