I’m laying in bed, plush blanket tucked securely under my legs and fingers deftly moving across the screen of my phone in a futile effort to distract myself with anything aside from the warmth emaciating from between my legs. You told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn’t to touch your cunt as if your words should have any impact on my actions, but the moment you give a command my body follows without question.
I’m cursing my inability to think as a competent adult when “Daddy” flashes across my notification bar. You instructed me to put hearts all around that title, regardless of the fact that most things you say to me describe anything but love.
“Where are you?”
I read the message twice to process. You know that I’m home, in bed, uncomfortably plugged as instructed. I call you, questioning your message and you respond with a thick annoyance in your voice.
“I should have known you were too stupid to follow instructions, cunt. You were supposed to be here twenty fucking minutes ago. Move it or there’s gonna be hell to pay.”
Before I can respond you’ve clicked off the line leaving me to scramble into some clothes and out of the door.
Driving to your apartment I take stock of myself to ensure I meet expectations before realizing how useless it is considering I’ve never once followed your directions properly. Walking in I’m greeted with a warm smile and soft embrace. You lead me to the couch and walk off to the kitchen prattling on about your day while I’m wringing my hands in my lap.
The anticipation of punishment allows me to follow your voice, but not the words as you make your way back to my side with a straight Jager in your hands that’s offered to mine. I take the glass and wait for permission to sip when you smile at me and coolly explain, “babygirl, I just want to give you a good night. You’ve been so good lately, and you’ve worked so very hard. The only rule tonight is for you to have fun and let me take care of you.” Your words rattle around my skull until a soft hand on my thigh assures me that this isn’t another trick, it’s you truly wanting me to be happy.
The night carries on. In between refilling my glass without so much as a word from me, I’m allowed to pick the silly videos we laugh at and prattle on about Disney plans and the new craft beer I’ve just bought that I can’t wait to share with you. My head is beginning to fog, and I’m giggling a little to much, so after another refill I push it back in your hand shaking my head.
My refusal is met with an insistent push back into my palm. “You? Wasting Jager? Nah, I don’t believe it. Just finish this one, baby girl.”
I absentmindedly sip while you play with my hair and trace the lines on my palms. After weeks of intense pain training and gas lighting, the lull of this evening has me feeling as if all the berating and tears were just part of a bad dream. I hadn’t noticed you get up, but I eventually notice the Jager bottle sitting on the end table behind your back. It’s one of the larger ones, and the liquid inside is so low that I begin to question just how much I drank. I brush the thought away and place the glass down to lay my head in your lap. Your fingertips are brushing the side of my face when I feel cold against my lips.
Before I can process what’s happening, I feel your fingertips close around my nose and the Jager spilling into my mouth. You tip the bottle further and further, all the while shushing me. When you release, I attempt to get up but world spins around me and I crumple to the floor.
“Oh, baby. I told you not to drink so much. You know how clumsy you are when you’ve had Jager. Let’s get you to bed.”
You lead me to the bathroom, with me not really award of what’s going on. You tell me to get undressed and leave me on my own shutting the door behind you. My movements are slow and disorganized as I try to disrobe for what I hazily assume is a shower. As I’m attempting to pull the shirt over my head, I hear you enter and sigh, exasperated with my intoxicated state. You harshly yank the top over my head and push me towards the shower. You turn on the tap and I’m instantly hit with frigid water.
"SD, why the fuck did you get in before the water warmed? Do I have to lead your every step like a fucking child?”
I’m shivering and confused when you being unbuttoning and pulling down your zipper. “Well I guess since you asked me so nicely, I’ll do it. I can’t believe you actually want it after telling me no so many times and I’m not really in the mood but you know I’ll always do anything to make you happy, babygirl.”
Before I can begin to understand what you mean, a warm stream of piss hits my hair before flowing down my face and across my chest. I try to stand up but slip and fall onto my back while you continue an uninterrupted stream along every surface of my body. I don’t even realize I’m crying until you look at my face, puzzled.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re going to cry and make me feel bad for something YOU asked for? You wanted me to warm you up, and I did. Goddamn it, SD. I can’t believe how ungrateful you are. Ugh, alright. Just shhhh okay? Come here. That’s it baby, it’s okay. Let’s just go lay down okay? I guess I’ll cum another night since you’re so upset. Wouldn’t want to ask you to do anything that might make you cry even more. It’s okay, baby.”
I can’t seem to piece any of what’s happening together, but the words about you not being satisfied ring in my ears. I drop to my knees clumsily and set about swallowing your cock down my throat. You’re moaning and lacing your fingers through my hair for more control while I work.
I feel you shoving me down a little harder with each thrust before you whisper “can I fuck you the way you want, baby?” I eagerly nod a yes, stupidly assuming you mean the way I like to be fucked after I’ve cried, which is slow and sweet. You’ve yanked me up by the hair and punched me in the eye before I can catch my breath. Flipping me over the edge of the full bath, you ram into my ass with no more than a quick spit as lube. We had discussed drowning before, but in a half hearted way with no decisions being made. You slam my head under and I fight as hard as I can until you yank me back up and explain,
“If you want to get hit, just bring your head up, baby. If not, just leave it under the water”
Right after the words fall from your lips I feel your knuckles connect with my ribs, searing pain across my chest. I submerge my head and feel your fingertips gently trace the curve of my hips as you pound into my ass. The process continues until you pull me out to cum down my throat.
"You’re too wet to sleep in the bed. Stay on the floor in here until morning baby. Sweet dreams!”
And with that the light is extinguished and the door shut behind you before I pass out shivering on the tile. In the morning I wake up to you gently brushing the hair from my face and rubbing my shoulder.
"Babygirl, what happened last night? I put you in bed with me but you must’ve decided to take a shower and fallen. Poor thing, you must’ve been freezing all night. And look at all these bruises! You must’ve fallen in here. Although some could be from you dancing around the living room and tripping over everything. I really need you to start listening when I ask you to stop drinking. It’s for your own good, you know. Now that you’re up, you should probably get moving.
My friends are coming over to drink tonight and I’ll need your help cleaning the mess you made last night.
And don’t worry, baby. I’ll make sure to take your drink before you do something stupid again tonight in front of my friends.”
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
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