March 2016


“Daddy, I’m ho-” I grab her by the hair and drag her inside. Pulling her into the bedroom, I push her face down onto the bed. “Don’t move.” Im fucking horny and I need relief. Now. I undo her jeans and pull them down, then her panties. I pull off my belt and wrap it around her wrists, pinning them in place, then drag her legs over the edge of the bed like she’s a rag doll. Obediently, she stays there, bare assed, silent, ready to receive anything I desire to give.

I move in, feeling the softness of her thighs, touching the wetness of her cunt. It gives way to the warmth within, as nature intended. I move in and out, savoring the initial invasion, pushing deeper with each pass, until I’m balls deep. I lean forward, putting all my weight on her, grab her hair again, and growl to her: “Whose cunt are you?” “Yours, daddy.” she says. “I want to hear you say it.” “I’m your cunt, daddy!” she says. “Louder!” “I’M YOUR CUNT, DADDY!” she yells, as I pound her from behind. Her hair is balled in my fist, pulled so hard that her back arches as I ram her. She’s moaning hard now. “What daddy wants, daddy gets. Say it!” I demand. “What daddy wants, daddy gets!” she says. “What does daddy want right now?” I ask. “Daddy wants my cunt!” she says. I explode into her, ramming so violently that the room is shaking from the headboard knocking the wall. Gaaaaaah! I’m panting. She’s panting. “Don’t move.” I say.

I go fetch a few things, coming back to her lovely ass and cunt, dripping with my load. “Now I want you to suffer for me. What are you going to do?” “I’m going to suffer for you, daddy.” she says. “Present your ass.” She arches her back and sticks her ass out for me. I’ve already got the cane ready. Swish! That satisfying impact with her skin. There’s no sound quite like it. “Count them!” “One.” she says. Swish! “Two.” We go all the way to 15, because I love to hear her voice cracking from the strain. I rub that beautiful ass, ribbed with my welts. “What do you say when daddy uses you?” I ask. “Thank you, daddy.” she says. “Thank me for what?” “Thank you for using me, daddy.” she says.

I feel her cunt. Wet. Swollen. Good. I flip her over and lift her legs. She bites her lip as I invade a second time. “What does a cunt do?” I ask as I’m pumping. “Whatever she’s told.” she says. Good answer, but I’m looking for something specific. “A cunt accepts daddy no matter what. Say it.” “A cunt accepts daddy no matter what.” she breathes. “What are you?” I ask. “I’m your cunt, daddy!” she says. “And what do I do to my cunt?” “You fuck your cunt!” she says. “And what does my cunt do?” I ask. “I accept daddy no matter what!” I ram it deep, listening to her moans, watching her move, feeling her body, submissive to mine. “Daddy may I please cum?” she asks. “No you may not.” I say, and continue hammering her. “Daddy, please!” she says, arching her back and trying desperately to pull away. “You hold still! And no cumming!” I say, smacking her ass. Better yet… I swing her legs so that they’re both held up my one arm, then start smacking her tits. Her moans come out in ragged bands. “Daddy I can’t hold it I can’t…” “You’ll do as you’re told!” Her moans are high pitched and desperate now. “Daddiiiiiiieeeee!” I smack her on the ass. HARD. She’s choking back sobs now. “Daddyyyy-hiiii-hiiii.” she cries. “Cum now.” I say. She convulses. I loose my load.

I fall on top of her, exhausted. Her hair is stuck to her face. I brush it aside and kiss her deeply. “You’re mine,” I say, stroking her hair, “and that’s not going to change.” “I know, daddy.” she says with a smile.

She’s mine.

For far more reasons than regular people could understand.

Beauty must be constrained.


Always remember: This is where you belong.

The first choice is hers.


Nothing quite like a fire on a cold night to chase the chills away. It’s quite cozy in the living room, curled up with a good book. Plenty of logs on the fire, as can be attested to by the redness of Meatball’s skin. She’s sweating profusely, her skin glistening in the firelight. “How’re you doing, Meatball?” I ask. “Sir, may I please come out now?” She’s gotten a lot better at remaining respectful while being punished, at least after the initial cycle anyway. I get up and feel her skin. It’s pretty hot alright. I squeeze and fondle her tits absentmindedly as I consider the next stage.

It all started with her chores. She didn’t want to tend to the chickens tonight. “Your chores are your chores. You have to do them.” I’d said. “But it’s too cold out, daddy!” she whined. “Can’t I just do them tomorrow? Pleeeease?” She’s had a lifetime of learning how to get her way, and it’s a most difficult habit to break. After some failed attempts at reason, I figured now was as good a time as any to test out my dolly chair. It’s mostly what it sounds like, an old dolly with a chair portion welded out of steel piping. There’s no “seat” per se; rather the front legs go up as normal, then bend at a 90 degree angle and run straight to the back of the chair. Once the hasps are all closed, her legs are locked, open and accessible. Her arms run straight down the sides, locking into place, and of course there’s one for her neck as well.

She’d probably assumed I was just going to whip her when I locked her naked body into the chair. I can only imagine her surprise when I wheeled her outside, set her down, and closed the door as I went back inside. Actually, I think I have a pretty good idea considering all the vitriol she screamed into the snowy expanse outside. I gave her plenty of time to cool off before whipping her. It’s a funny thing, cold… You feel numb, and yet any pain is amplified significantly. By the end of it she had become VERY polite. “I’m sorry I disobeyed you, daddy. May I please go warm up?” I didn’t think the lesson had quite sunk in yet, but I saw no reason to refuse her request.

Which brings us to now. I tilt the chair and begin wheeling it for the door. “No, daddy, please!” she begs. “Did you just say no?” I ask. “I’m sorry!” she says quickly. “I’ve learned my lesson, honest!” “And what lesson is that?” I ask. “Chores come first.” she says. “And?” “And I do what daddy tells me to.” “And?” “And…” she thinks for a bit. “No whining?” “Right. Now I want you to write those three things out 100 times each.” “Yes, daddy.” she says. I free her from the chair. “Take a shower and then do your lines.” She trots off.

An hour later, she returns, standing demurely in the doorway. “Daddy?” “Yes, princess?” “I’ve finished my lines.” she says, holding up the sheets of paper. “Bring them to me.” I say. I read over the papers, and everything looks to be in order. “Go post these on the fridge, then come back here.” She does so. “What do you say after your punishment?” I ask. “Thank you for punishing me, daddy.” she says. “Show me how much you appreciate my discipline.” She kneels down in front of me. “May I take out daddy’s cock?” she asks. “Yes you may.” She does so, carefully, delicately. “May I suck daddy’s cock?” she asks. “Yes you may.” She takes me into her mouth, feeling with her tongue, letting it grow before kissing down the shaft, licking back up, taking it in again. She’s gotten good… Damn good! She’s in a rhythm now, her head bobbing in and out as she keeps her eyes focused on me. I can feel myself getting close. She can, too. “Where would daddy like his cum?” she asks. “In your mouth is fine.” I say. She returns to her task, taking me deeply, pushing closer… closer… closer…

“Unh!” I grunt, as I empty into her. She continues, swallowing as she goes, then begins carefully cleaning it off. “You’re such a good girl.” I say. “No.” she responds. “I’m disobedient. I make trouble.” “That’s what you need me for.” I say. “I’m your discipline. I set you on the right path. Now come up here. Let’s watch a movie.” She climbs up onto my lap. “Can we watch Labyrinth again?” she asks. “Of course, pumpkin!” She’s so precious.

Daddy knows best.


Ahh, I’m feeling nice and relaxed. It’s been a rough day, but now I’m lounging in my chair, watching my favorite show, sipping on a finger of Four Roses. Meatball and I always find a way to dissipate the stresses of the day; it’s one of the reasons we get on so well. I’m certainly glad we found each other. “Aren’t you glad we found each other, Meatball?” I ask. “Yef, haa.” she replies. You’ll have to excuse her; she’s holding my whip for me.

I look over to admire her delightful body. She’s attached to one of the vertical support pillars. Log houses are great that way: lots of opportunities for attachment points. A few swing hasps later and I have the perfect immobilization system: Two for the wrists, two for the ankles, and one for the neck. It allows her to stand almost naturally, with her feet against the base, and hands on each side of the pillar. She looks almost like a figurehead on the prow of a ship. She’s holding the whip in her mouth, which is why she’s having some trouble talking. A long trail of drool glistens on her skin as it makes its way to the floor.

You know what? This TV show’s getting a bit boring. I get up to inspect my property. She stares up at me with those beautiful eyes. Something about the obedient way she holds the whip in her mouth for me… I’m already hard. I take it from her mouth and wipe it on her skin to dry it off. She’s still got some remaining drool stringing off her chin, but that can’t be helped, and I don’t intend to do anything about it.

I stand right next to her, casually running my finger inside her cunt. “Who does this belong to?” I ask. “You, daddy.” she says. I can see in her eyes how deeply she knows this to be true. I stroke her hair lovingly. “And what can I do with it?” I ask, probing the wetness. “Anything you want to, daddy.” she says. “What I want to do is whip that cunt.” I say, still stroking her hair. “What will you do?” “I’ll suffer for you, daddy.” she says. “That’s my good girl.” I kiss her on the forehead and then step back to give myself some room.

I flick the whip gently, catching her cunt dead-on as she gasps. You don’t need much force for this sort of thing; she’s plenty sensitive down there. “What do you say, princess?” I ask. “Thank you for helping me suffer for you, sir.” she says. “I want you to fully understand what I do for you. I want you to thank me after each one.” “Yes, daddy.” I flick the whip again. She winces. “Thank you, daddy.” I flick it again. “Thank you, daddy.” Her eyes are so full of her beautiful suffering. Another flick. “Thank you, daddy.” She’s so precious.

I switch to a side-to-side motion, striping her thighs, moving upwards, drinking her suffering. If you asked me, I couldn’t explain why I enjoy it so much. All I can say is that it brings us closer together. A whipping is never so satisfying as when you do it to the one you love and cherish. There’s a red criss-cross pattern all up her thighs and chest, and now her tits are swinging in time with the whip. “Thank you, daddy.” she gasps, her head turning from side to side as she tries in vain to move. I walk up to her and feel my work. Her skin is ridged with welts. Her tits sport a stunning blush of red. I squeeze them, stopping to play with a nipple. I kiss her deeply, my finger in her cunt again. “Are you feeling my ownership?” I ask. “Yes, daddy.” she says. “How does it feel?” “It feels right, daddy.” I nod my approval, then put the whip back in her mouth so that she can hold it for me again.

Sitting back down, I take a sip of bourbon, and watch the rest of my program.


Steel helmet. Cruel

Fun With Sound

I’m no hoarder, but there are some things you just don’t throw out. Take, for example, the old metal cot that the previous owners left in the basement. If I weren’t so perv minded, I probably would have tossed it long ago. Today, I’m glad I didn’t.

I head down to the basement to check on Meatball. She cuts such a beautiful figure in contrast to the metal that binds her. I drink in the sight of her, spread and vulnerable, laying upon a criss-crossing net of interconnected metal springs. Blindfolded and gagged, she is perfectly still and silent, and for good reason! Allow me to demonstrate. My fingers hover over her helplessly exposed cunt. Flick! “Muh!” she yelps, then screams again as electrical current hits her nipples and cunt in response to the noise.

I run my fingers tenderly up her stomach, watching her body tense and quiver at my touch. I run them over her nipples, over the electrodes that clamp them, listening to her erratic breathing. With my tongue, I wet them both, giving them a little bite in the process. Her breath catches, but she remains silent. I go back down to her cunt, ready, wet. Just a light brush. Just a little tease. An involuntary moan quickly turns to a scream as she triggers another shock.

What she’s realized by now is that with the microphone embedded in the thin tube cut through her gag, even heavy breathing is enough to set it off. A one second pulse, followed by five seconds for her to quiet down before it resets again. I check the vaginal probe. It’s in securely, but I pull and push on it anyway in a slow, tender rhythm. Some more clit stimulation. “Ngaaa!” Guess she was breathing too hard. I fuck her some more with the probe, but she’s managed to keep quiet this time. Guess I need to step it up a notch.

I grab the cane and run the end up her stomach, bringing it to rest on her tits. Her body twists and moves but there’s no escaping this. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap… Swish! Bamboo impacts flesh with a satisfying noise. Her body shudders, but not a sound comes out. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap… Swish! Again, she maintains her composure. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap… I raise the cane, watching her body tense in anticipation, but I don’t swing. I bring it gently to rest against her tits again. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap… I raise it again, and hold. She tenses, then squirms. Swish! She yelps, then screams. I bend down and whisper in her ear “I love it when you suffer for me, princess.” I caress her tits, and kiss her gently on the forehead. Her breathing is slow and regular.

Now for the piece de resistance. I untie the probe in her cunt so I can use it better, fucking her gently as I apply a little vibration to her clit. Oh, she’s moving now! I continue, watching her hips start to gyrate. The vibration continues. She moves and squirms, but there is no escaping it. Her breathing picks up. “Naah!” Another shock for breathing too hard. I hear her moans of frustration as she fights to get her breathing under control before her five seconds are up. I don’t let up on the stimulation. In fact, I think I’ll intensify it. It doesn’t take long for her to suffer another shock. She’s going to have to cum soon, which is what I’m waiting for.

I start fucking her harder with the probe. Another shock. More whimpering. 3… 4… 5… Another shock. 1… 2… 3… 4… She gets it under control, but her entire body is writhing with desire and frustration and torment. I step it up. Another scream. She’s breathing heavily now, unable to control herself. Another shock. And then the magic happens. Her cunt clenches. Her breath stops. She’s cumming. Hard. I pull off her electrodes. More seconds pass. Her body is rigid. In draws her ragged breath, and out, in a long, shuddering moan.

“You suffered beautifully for me.” I say with pride, removing her gag. “Thank you, daddy.” she breathes. She’s such a good girl. I undo her bonds and take her in my arms. Exhausted, she leans into my chest as I carry her upstairs.

Because it turns me on.

Because it turns you on.

She’s my good girl.

I suffering, beauty.

Well kept.

I do love perving around the housewares department. Where else can you get a $10 silicone coated flexible smack stick? And just the right length, too!


Kitty cats need a scratching post.

Oh no, I hope Meatball is okay! How did it get stolen? At least she has a great master- your love and dedication to her safety and security as yours is amazing- because this collar is even more thoughtful and meaningful! I hope to find a gracious a dom as You, Sir. Best wishes for You and Meatball!

They broke into her car and stole a bunch of stuff, including the collar. I’ll be bringing her new one with me when I go down to visit again.

And the strap whip. I need to… uhh… test the workmanship. Yeah that’s it.

Jesus christ and you're a software guy, too. And do you actually live on a farm, did I get that right? Does it get any better? All the things I like in one blog. - M.

I don’t live on a farm yet. I’ll be buying in the summer when I have everything lined up.

Some asshole stole poor Meatball’s collar!

I can’t leave her without, so I made another one. This time I used jeweled rivets in her favorite color.

How to Make a Strap Whip

Today, I’m going to show you how to make a strap whip. It’s actually fairly simple to make for such an effective implement.



First, measure the width you’ll need for the leather. You want to make sure there’s a decent amount of overlap once you wrap it around the handle.


The bicycle pump had a sharp edge on it, so I just wrapped it with electrical tape.


Cut the leather strip. Just keep it rectangular for now. Square the end that will be part of the handle. The other end doesn’t matter yet.


Now place your handle where you want it to be and mark on the leather where the handle ends. You’ll be cutting from there.


Next, cut tapering lines towards the middle to make a long triangle starting from where you marked it for the handle. Notice that I don’t cut it to a point; I leave it at about ½ inch at the tapered end.


Now put a nice layer of glue on the handle part of the leather strip. Be sure to spread it evenly (I only took a photo before spreading it around).


Next, roll it around the handle and secure it. I just used zip ties for this.


Now mark down drill points along the seam overlap (where the leather overlaps after wrapping around the handle). I marked one per inch. Drill pilot holes for the screws.


Put in the screws, then remove the zip ties.


And done!


Table for Two

It’s nice to eat out once in awhile. Meatball looks stunning in her new dress. She’s feeling a little awkward with the toy I stuffed up her cunt, but I’m the only one who knows her well enough to notice.
It’s a great place! Good food, good service, live entertainment, and the steaks are second to none. “What do you think, Meatball?” I ask. “It’s wonderful, sir!” she says.
We look through the menu, but it’s rather obvious that the only thing to order on Friday is the steak special. The waiter comes. “Are you ready to order?” I motion for Meatball to start. “Oh. Umm, I’ll have the staaaahun!” “We’re both having the steak special.” I break in smoothly as she tries desperately to hide her rapidly coloring face. “Very good, sir, and to drink?” “The 08 Merlot” “Excellent choice”
after he leaves, I give the remote another buzz and watch her reaction with a smile.
“Daddy please… I can’t…” “You can, and you will. I expect you to be discreet.” “Yes sir.” she says.
I buzz her again and motion for her to lean close so we can kiss. She’s complaining, but this is heating her up.
The waiter arrives and places her plate down. Buzz! She jumps. “Are you OK, miss?” he asks. “Yes, I’m fine.” she says in a tiny voice.
We truck into our food. I buzz her a few more times over dinner, and after dinner wine. I wonder to myself which is worse: getting buzzed while the waiter’s at the table, or the anticipation as she watches my evil grin, only to have him leave without me buzzing her at all.
By the end of the meal, she’s quite out of sorts, and glad to be leaving. Just for good measure, I turn it up to full and leave it there. let’s see if she makes it to the car in one piece…

The only way to clean a dirty girl.


My eyes pop open. The room is dark; only the faintest shapes can be made out in the moonlight. I look at the clock. 3:18 AM. I’m horny as fuck. Beside me lies Meatball, the covers rising and falling softly with each breath. I reach through the covers until my hand is between her legs. She stirs, but can’t move very much, on account of her wrists and ankles being locked in place. My finger probes until it finds the dildo pole, and a little wetness where it enters her. I hear a plaintive moan. I continue, moving ever so slightly, feeling her body tense and relax against her bonds. I like the fact that with one finger I can make her entire body move and quiver. I listen to her breath catch each time I hit that spot, watching her lick her lips as she heats up.

I pull the covers back. God she’s so fucking beautiful, stretched out and helpless, ready for my pleasure. I’d blindfolded her before bed, and I think I’ll keep it that way. I go back to teasing her cunt. She’s my plaything, and she has so much to offer. Like her nipples. Taking one between thumb and forefinger, I begin rolling, pulling, squeezing. Her moaning is more plaintive, and her movements more pronounced, but there is no escape and she knows it. The dildo pole is anchored to the foot of the bed so as not to fall out during the night. I grab the shaft and pull upwards, watching her hips follow. Her ass is exposed underneath, and I take full advantage, feeling, squeezing, pushing into another hole. Her voice is music.

I let go of the pole and she falls back down as I fetch my cane. Lying beside her, I can tap it anywhere I want. Her thighs (SWISH!), her stomach (SWISH!), her tits (SWISH!), I can even reach her cunt with it. A little pain here, some more there… If she was sleepy before, I doubt she is now. I’m certainly not!

I disconnect the dildo pole from the bed so that I can have more fun with it. “Open!” I command. She accepts it without question, and I slide it down her throat. Silence. Her body convulses and she tries to move her head from side to side, but I’ve got a strong hold. She doesn’t breathe. Her whole body is writhing now, desperate for air but helpless to do anything. I pull back just a little bit. Air rushes in and out past the dildo as she sputters and coughs. I push it back in. More struggling. Her lips widen in an O, and her tongue pushes in vain against it. I pull back a bit. She’s breathing heavily now, trying not to choke on the spittle in her mouth. I take the pole with one hand right against her face to give decent leverage, then push it in, while invading her cunt with the other. A bit of rubbing on the clit, a bit of air… Her body goes rigid as she cums. I’ve taken the dildo out of her mouth, but it still takes awhile before she pulls in a long, ragged breath. I want her. Now. Freeing her legs, I lift them up and go straight in, pumping and violating and taking what’s mine. No gentleness; I aim to break her now. I slam in deep, pistoning in and out, hearing her moans grow louder, pushing myself closer, closer.


Fuck yeah.

I just sit there, still inside her, reveling in the quietude. I am master of my castle and everything in it. Satisfied, I lock her ankles back in place and reattach the dildo pole before going back to sleep.

I can't get enough of these short stories You write. They are so eloquently put and so adorable and at the same time such a turn-on. It's amazing and it shows that they're written from the heart.

Thanks so much! I write them for my little Meatball.

Hello, Sir, I have a question... It's clear to see that You greatly emphasise communication in a relationship and how a sub should always talk about their insecurities, fears, doubts, etc. Just about everything. I was wondering if it also goes vice versa. Should a Dom talk to their sub about everything, or should some things remain disclosed (and if so, could You possibly give some examples of such things so as to provide a better picture of it)? Thank You so so much for taking the time.

A dom/sub relationship is not an equal one. I decide what’s good for her, and what’s not. That’s why she comes to me in the first place. The more I know about her, the better I can decide, so it’s only natural that I’d want to know absolutely everything, no matter how deep or dark (in fact, especially the deep and dark). She won’t want to tell me right away, of course, because she’ll worry that it will affect my love for her. Those things take time, trust, and patience.

She, on the other hand, needs safety and security. I am her shield. I protect her from the harshness of the world. Simply passing every worrying thing straight down to her would be irresponsible. I will share my heart with her, but I will not load her down with the weight of the world.

As for examples, it’s hard to say. If I know it will worry her, I won’t say it, unless it’s important for her to know.

Her place will always be on her knees.

I own every part of you, and I do with them as I please.

Making use of the existing landscape.


Ugh what a pain in the ass. I’ve traced the crash down to a bad system call, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why the parameters are different from what I originally sent. This is going to be a bitch to fix. I lean back and rub my eyes.
“Daddy, I made sandwiches!” says Meatball happily. Perfect timing! I needed a short break from this.
“Bring them over here, princess” I say. She comes into the room walking daintily so as not to trip over her chains, then kneels beside the desk, holding up the tray. “You’re such a good girl!” I say, kissing her before taking a triangle of bready goodness. Roast trout from our little catch at the river yesterday. “Mmm this is good!” She smiles, and asks: “Can I have one too, daddy?” “Of course you can, honey.” She puts the tray down and grabs one to eat. We enjoy each others’ company, the warm breeze from outside, the birds chirping in the distance. I pull her close and she leans against my legs while I stroke her hair. “What are you working on, daddy?” she asks. “Oh, just a difficult problem at work.” I say with a sigh. “We should go do something else then!” she says. I smile. Of course she’d say that, the precious thing. “Work first, play second.” I say. She sticks her tongue out. I grab her chin. “What was that, princess?” “Nothing, daddy.” she says innocently. “I thought so.”

We finish our lunch, and I let her sit in my lap awhile. She’s my precious girl, and I love to hold her, but right now I have duties. “Alright, pumpkin, finish up your chores and let daddy do his work.” “I’m finished my chores, daddy.” she says. “All of them?” I ask. She nods. “Even the horse stalls?” More nodding. “So when I go out to check, it’ll be perfect? And the house will be perfectly clean? And I’ll be satisfied with everything you’ve done?” She nods again. Interesting. She knows not to try deceiving me, because the punishment would be most severe. I’ll leave it at that for now; I have a lot to get done yet. “Alright, clean up lunch and give me peace to finish this.” She picks up the tray and leaves.

I return to my impossible task. Something has to be overwriting the stack, but what? I start building a print trail, because this is one of those heisenbugs that disappear in the debugger. “Daddy?” “What is it, pumpkin? Daddy’s working.” “Can I sit with you?” She looks so cute, standing in the doorway. “OK, but don’t disturb me. I have a lot of work to do.” She comes in and sits at my feet. I stroke her hair as I think. “Daddy…” she says. “I said don’t disturb me.” “Daddy, I’m bored…” She yelps as I grab her by the hair and lift her to her feet. Sometimes I don’t mind a little brattiness, but work is work.

I drag her over to a section of exposed floorboards. I’ve installed eye bolts around the house in case I need to attach her, and now is indeed the time. I fish a padlock out of my pocket, link it between her collar and the eye bolt, and snap it shut. Her neck is now locked a few inches from the floor. Her slave cuffs were separated, but will be no longer. I lock them behind her back. “Daddy I’m sorry!” she pleads. “I don’t want to hear anything out of your mouth other than ‘Yes sir’. Do you understand?” “Yes, sir.” she says. I go back to the desk and try to collect my thoughts again.

I can hear her attempting to adjust her position from time to time, but I pay it no heed. My mind is focused on my work. Interesting… One function is not the same as I wrote. Maybe it’s being overlapped during linking? “Daddy, I…” she begins. “I told you to be quiet!” “But daddy!” “One more word out of you and I’ll lock you in the cellar.” I return to my work. Though she fidgets a bit, I hear no further complaining for the remainder of my work day. Two hours is a long time to be locked up like that, but I need to make a point.

“Do you understand why I punished you?” I ask. “Yes, daddy.” she says. “Tell me.” “I’m not supposed to disturb you when you’re at work.” she says. “Right.” I respond. “Are you ready for your spanking?” “Yes, daddy.” “Get your ass higher.” I pull off my belt. “Start counting.” I say. Smack! “One.” Smack! “Two.” Smack! “Three.” Smack! “Four.” Her ass is pretty red. Smack! “Five.” Smack! “Six.” Smack! “S-seven.” “Ass higher!” I say. Smack! “Eight.” Smack! “N-nine…” Smack! “Ten.”

“What do you say?” I ask. “Thank you, daddy.” She’s a good girl at the core. I unlock her and bring her over to the couch in the living room. She melts into my arms and I stroke her hair, kissing her forehead, her eyes, her nose, her mouth. I’m her guardian. I’m her discipline. I’m her security. She’s my precious girl.

She’s my princess.

She’s my whore.

A woman wants the freedom to be both.

A slave has the freedom to just do without question.

No such thing as too much enjoyment, right?

Subspace achieved.

You have no choice but to be my beautiful girl.

You and I have a few things to get straight.

The light touch can be the most effective.

If you love her, show it!

Calming her down.

Your blog is probably the most informative blog I've come across on here. I love it and have been lost in your writings for over an hour. My bed time is in exactly three minutes and I'm not going to make it since I have chores to finish. Sir is deployed but I'm supposed to send a picture in bed at the designated time. That's not going to happen and I can honestly say this punishment will be worth it. Thank you for sharing your wisdom and letting us into a bit of your world.

Uh oh, someone’s got a punishment coming!


There’s something magical about a hood. It does things to a girl. Closes her world in. Leaves her with no sight, and only the sound of her own breathing. Even if she can move around, she won’t. Leave her like this for awhile and she’ll be incredibly pliant. I imagine it becomes quite soothing in the amount of control and responsibility it strips away from her.

“Sit up!” I order. She carefully lifts herself up as best she can with her hands cuffed behind her. I kick at her legs until she opens them all the way. There’s something about Meatball that drives me wild. It’s not any one part of her (although they’re all delectable), but rather the whole package that somehow screams “torture me and fuck me!” And really, who am I to refuse such a tempting offer?

I crouch down to get a better look. Those tits are just asking for it. I indulge. She flinches as I grab one after the other, squeezing, pulling, slapping. They really do bounce quite nicely. She’s breathing harder now. There’s a tiny wet patch where her cunt touches the concrete. “How’s my little slut doing?” I say, rubbing lightly inside her. She squirms, but doesn’t dare close her legs. She’s my property, and does as she’s told like a good girl. A squeeze of her nipple teases the first little moan out of her. “Does it feel good when I do this?” I ask. “Yes sir.” comes her muffled voice. Blocking the air holes, I continue to stimulate her. She moves her head but there’s no escaping my torments. The air does not come, and her stimulation continues. She’s making more noise now, plaintive, aroused, resigned. I am in control, and she has no choice but to feel what I make her feel. “Please, daddy…” comes her labored voice. “Please what? More air?” I ask. “Yes, daddy, please.” I let go of her air holes and listen the air whistle in and out.

“Get your ass in the air.” She bends forward, resting on her head and lifts her ass. “The other way. Turn around.” I watch with satisfaction as she struggles to turn her ass towards me. “Properly!” I push down on her back with my boot, and she arches it until her ass is brazenly in the air. Good. I uncoil the whip.

A woman’s ass is just begging to be whipped. It defies all logic, but I’m not here to opine in the philosophical arts; I’m here to use my property. Crack! The whip snaps loudly, and she flinches from the sound. Now that she knows what’s coming, I begin swinging the tail from side to side. Closer… Closer… Another flinch as the tongue of leather touches her skin. Back, forth, making contact each time. I step up the intensity, watching the red stripes form on that wonderful ass. Stripe. Stripe. Stripe. She’s starting to make noise now as her skin becomes more sensitive. Stripe. Stripe. A beautiful criss-cross pattern. “Hands out of the way!” I snap. Her hands, which had been inching down, return to the middle of her back. Stripe. Stripe.

I stop to inspect my work. It’s very red now, with raised welts; very sensitive to the touch. I rub it with my hand, feeling the contours. “What do you say?” “Thank you, sir.” “Show me how much you appreciate it.” I pull her up to a sitting position and unzip her mouth. She greedily accepts my cock, trying valiantly to fit it down her throat. Not quite there, but she’s making real progress! I let her head bob for awhile, until I feel fully riled up. Grabbing her head between my hands, I start thrusting. She’s choking on the invader, and I’m about ready to exploooooo…
Fuck yeah. She cleans me up with her tongue, and I zip her mouth back up.

“Sit up!” I order. Her back is now razor straight. I take a few practice swings, and then go to work on her tits. They’re VERY sensitive, but she manages alright and maintains her composure for the most part. Little red streaks tattoo those beautiful mounds. She’ll be feeling this for days. I make her mouth useful again, watching with pride as she eagerly services me. This truly is an idyllic place; Quiet, peaceful, and no neighbors for miles. I zip up her mouth again. “Present your holes.” Obediently, she assumes the proper position. She’s dripping so much that I have no trouble getting in. In a slow and easy rhythm, flesh meets flesh. She matches my speed, pushing back as I push forward. Our tempo shifts, faster. I heard her labored breathing. Slow and easy. Deep. A long moan. Tempo up. I smack with my hand, listening to her beautiful, heated voice. Faster now. Smack! Smack! Faster. Louder noises from her hood. I’m holding onto her now, pulling her back as I thrust. Moaning from her hood. Grunting from my lungs. “Daddy, may I cum?” “Cum now!” I order. I’m about to explode here! “Mnnnaa!” I can hardly hear her over my primal yell.

We’re sitting on the floor, her hood resting against my shoulder. I open her mouth and kiss her deeply. “Was it good, princess?” I ask. “Yes, daddy!” she says. “Good. Let’s go upstairs.” She stands, and I loop my finger through the ring on top of her hood to lead her up the steps to the kitchen.