Page 96 of Santa Daddies
I grinned and nodded. “I’d say I’d have to thank my little pig farmer for bringing that wrangler out. The question is, now that I’ve got you all hog-tied nice and prettily, what am I going to do next?”
Tied or not, the little minx managed to wiggle her ass and say, “I believe I’m not in a position to keep you from doing pretty much anything and everything you might like, Santa Daddy.”
“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner,” I teased, loving the giggle the quip evoked. But the added bonus of seeing another droplet of cream begin to make its journey along her blushing body, declared me a winner as well.
Chapter Five
Marcie
My Daddy’s remark about how I’d spent time considering all that might happen when he joined me had been spot on. However, being hog-tied on top of the bed hadn’t even been on my radar when I’d first entered the bedroom. I’d been about ready to find my Daddy Dom and tell him his clue had disappeared, but then I’d done a double take, looking again at the head of the bed.
“Why, Lord Pigsley, what do you have there?”
I didn’t need any pig Latin to give me an answer as I saw the slip of paper he was holding. Unfolding it, I’d discovered it wasn’t really just a slip, it was folded several times, and my anticipation grew with every fold I smoothed. After reading the poem, I smiled. I’d never known my Daddy had such a poet inside him, but I did know he had the power with a few simple words to guide not only my thoughts, but my body’s response to those thoughts.
And now, naked except for four ribbons holding my body as securely as his words held me entranced, I could do absolutely nothing but accept whatever sensations my Santa Daddydecided to let me experience. I could feel my pussy dripping and see the crown of his cock glistening. Whatever he chose to do better happen soon or else I feared I would self-combust.
He'd tied me in such a way that truly didn’t inhibit him or limit his choices in any way. Would he spank me for bringing thousands of piglets into his home? Would he simply push that lovely, hard rod of steel into me and fuck me until I was begging to come? Would he perhaps choose a totally different place to sink his cock deep? I couldn’t help the slight shudder at the memory of his finger circling my most private opening only a few minutes earlier. As I’d said, his skill with bondage assured he could do any of those he chose.
As he climbed back onto the bed, the mirror in front of me allowed me to see him kneeling behind me, I knew there was no use supposing or bracing myself. I didn’t need to be tied with pretty bows to gift him my total submission. He earned that every time we played, and he proved he was the Daddy Dom of my dreams. Still, I’d never expected he’d choose none of the above.
“This little piggie went to market,” he began, tugging on the big toes on both of my feet. “This little piggie stayed home.” My second toes were tugged and given a little shake even as I began to shake my head in disbelief. “These little piggies dined on dishes of delicious lasagna,” he improvised as his fingers continued to move and tug. “While these poor little piggies had naught but salad.” I was giggling by the time I felt him take hold of my little toes. “Tell me, little elf, what was it these two little piggies do?”
“They had cheesecake with chocolate bits, of course,” I said, not about to discuss cannibalistic porkers. I tensed, waiting for the inevitable shaking of my tiniest toes.
“Hmmm, correct, but how did they know which dessert was theirs?” he asked which totally stumped me.
“Umm, I-I don’t know.”
“Sure you do.”
I felt him release my baby toes and couldn’t fathom what came next. But he could have given me a hundred guesses, and I’d never have picked the right one.
“They licked their little piggie soles!”
I shrieked as his fingers attacked to tickle the soles of my feet. “Daddeeeee! No more! Stop! Ohhh, that tickles!”
“I did mention writhing and wiggling, did I not?” he asked, having to speak louder in order to be heard over what was definitely quite piggie-like squeals of laughter.
“Please!” I begged, remembering that pleading had also been promised in his poem. “Daddy! I’m going to wee!”
His laughter told me how seriously he took that declaration, but after a final bout of tickling that had me rocking side to side in useless attempts to avoid the torture, his lips replaced his fingertips and this time when I screamed, it was because his cock drove into me in one hard thrust.
“Yes!” I cried, my entire body tensing in a moment of pure intense ecstasy as it began to adjust to his invasion. “Oh, please, move, please,” I begged.
Move he did.
He withdrew and then began to pound into me hard and fast. He used my legs as anchors, easily pulling me back onto him each time he thrust forward. I could feel my fingers opening and closing, desperate for something to clutch and finding only air. I lifted my head and screamed to the ceiling, the sensation of being totally possessed, completely claimed and utterly unable to resist in any way driving my need higher and higher. I thought I couldn’t take another moment when one of his hands released my leg and dropped to stroke my clit. The spring that had been coiling tighter and tighter within my belly began to vibrate.
“Please, please, please, Daddy, I’m going to come!”
“Ask correctly, or there shall be no coming, well, not foryouat least,” he said, driving into me again.
“Please, please, pretty, pretty please,” I begged, my nipples so hard they ached with each brush against the quilt when his thrusts moved my body forward and then again when his grip on my leg pulled me back.
“Two strikes, only one more to go before I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”
Oh god, I was on the very cusp, the only chance I had of not coming without permission was if he’d release my clit, but when he took it between his thumb and finger, I knew there was no hope of that. “Oh, please, I can’t, I’m going to come!”
