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I jolted awake, disoriented, feeling hot all over. As I tried to regulate my breathing, I checked my phone.
10:23 A.M.
Oh, shoot — I’ve slept all morning!
I rolled over, not feeling rested at all. What the hell had I been dreaming about? No matter how hard I tried to dig, I couldn’t find the source of my heated breathlessness. Looking over, I saw that the space next to me on the bed was empty, cold. Bryan woke up every day at 8 o’clock sharp — he was likely already working, writing away in his office. He was nearing his deadline for his newest book release, so the odds of me getting any of his attention until this evening were slim.
Bryan wrote sweet, fluffy romances under a fancy pen name. It was incredibly ironic that he wrote such flowery fiction, having the affinity that he did for paddles, ropes and gags. Not that he wasn’t romantic, of course — our idea of romance just happened to be a little different from an average relationship. I’d always admired his writing skill. Even before I met him two years ago, I was an avid reader and fan of his.
Knowing his hardworking (and self-destructive) tendencies, I figured that he probably hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. I brushed my teeth, then shuffled downstairs, still in my silk nightie, to start a pot of coffee.
Once the coffee was brewing, I found his mug — a white ceramic one, on which I’d painted little gray flowers for him — and poured two teaspoons of sugar into it. He never took cream or milk. I took pride in always knowing what he wanted, and in giving it to him.
It would be nearing lunch soon, so I settled on heating a pastry for him rather than cooking an entire breakfast. While I waited on the toaster oven, I pondered my dream. I never woke up like that — breathless, heart racing… Had I had a nightmare?
The toaster oven dinged. I collected the hot mug and toasted croissant and whisked them to his office, just down the hall.
I paused in the open doorway, and knocked gently on the door with the mug.
“Good morning, Sir,” I murmured.
He looked up at me from his computer with those gorgeous gray eyes, and, just like most mornings, I fell in love all over again. The man I admired in so many ways was sitting in his big leather desk chair, the top three buttons casually undone on his pressed white shirt, the sleeves of which stretched over toned shoulders and biceps.
“Morning, baby. Get enough sleep?” He taunted gently.
My heart swelled at the word ‘baby’.
“Only eleven hours,” I giggled.
I placed his late breakfast on his desk in front of him as he swiveled his chair to face me, patting his thigh. I took the invitation, slipping my legs over his, seating myself on his lap.
He stroked his long fingers through my coppery-red waves, still tangled from bed. I took him in, the hard angles of his face, the little wrinkles next to his gray eyes, his ashy brown hair.
“Good girl,” he said, gesturing to the coffee. “I was starting to burn out already, and it’s not even eleven yet,” he shook his head. “I didn’t even think about coffee, I’ve got so much work to do.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” I said. “Are you finished with the first draft yet?”
“Almost,” he sighed. “I can’t decide where to end the damn thing. I’m thinking about ending it with a sex scene, but I don’t know how my readers would react to that.”
I clapped my hands over my ears. “Please don’t tell me how you’re going to end it, Sir,” I whined. “I want it to be a surprise when I read it.”
He shook his head and chuckled. It was such a deep, sexy sound. I squeezed my thighs together, and then it hit me.
Sex! That’s what my dream was about!
“You know you’ll be the first to read it, kitten,” he said.
Bryan kissed my forehead, one hand still softly in my hair, and the sex-dream memories started to flow freely. I feebly tried to push them away. How disrespectful of me to think about sexual things in front of him like this.
“I really need to get to work here. Go bake some cookies,” he ordered, smiling at me. “I’ll come for you if I need you again.”
“Yes, Sir,” I said.
I rose to my feet and started to leave. His voice sounded behind me as I crossed the doorway.
“And Elena?”
I turned.
“Chocolate chip ones.”
I smiled. “As always, Sir.”
The look in his eyes said what his mouth didn’t: good girl. Pride swelled in my chest, and I left.
***
The explicit dream played over and over in my head as I pushed each chocolate-chip cookie onto a cooling rack. My whole body felt uncomfortably warm, and the area in between my legs tingled. I felt a hollow, heavy pit of desire in my lower stomach, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.
I never thought of things like this, not when I wasn’t with him in the bedroom. Bryan had set strict rules with me that my body sexually belonged to him, and only him. I was not to touch myself without explicit permission to Ümraniye Grup Escort do so.
In two years of being with him, I’d never considered breaking the rules — I was not a brat. I didn’t get off on punishment, or on talking back to him. I loved following Bryan’s rules. I loved being his submissive. I loved hearing his praise, seeing how proud he was, of both me and my submission.
But he had work to do, and this dream-fantasy had me feeling incredibly desperate for release. I never misbehaved, and there’s no way that he’d even notice — I mean, he’d be in his office for at least another four or five hours. It’d take me fifteen minutes tops, I could be quick about it.
The last cookie hit the wire rack, and my mind was made up. For the first time in two years, I was going to roll the dice — I was going to consciously break my master’s rules for the first time. A rush of excitement flowed into my core as I quietly ascended the stairs, heading back to the bedroom. Did bratty subs always feel this adrenaline rush when they disobeyed their dominants like this?
I lay back on our bed, tucking myself under the covers, as if it would cover my actions if Bryan did walk in. For some reason, it gave me a sense of security.
I closed my eyes, shooing the worry out of my mind. He was hard at work, and when Bryan was working, he did not take frequent breaks.
I slid my silky pink panties down around my ankles, spreading my legs under the covers. I slipped two fingers between the lips of my sex, stroking myself slowly as I recalled the dream in as much detail as I could.
“Behave, princess,” Bryan demanded. “Sit still for me.”
I tried to stop squirming on my knees as he cuffed my wrists behind my back. Not squirming was a challenge, with the strong vibrator seated deep in my pussy. He gently pushed me forward, my cheek resting against the duvet, my ass in the air.
The memory of my position in the dream sent a hot rush of wetness to my pussy, and I circled my clit faster with my fingertips, letting a small whimper fall from my lips. The naughty feeling of masturbating without permission only drove my arousal higher.
A cold, slippery finger stroked down the center of my ass before pausing just over my pink hole, and I clenched up in apprehension. A firm smack landed on my ass — a reminder that my body belonged to him, and he could use it as he pleased. He slid his finger inside, pumping it in and out slowly. I moaned quietly, never having had my ass used in this way before.
The vibrations in my pussy drove me higher and higher, and I clenched pleasurably around both his finger and the toy.
He slipped another finger inside, a burning pleasure flowing through my body. Having my pussy and ass pleasured like this at the same time was almost too much… I was so close.
“You will ask permission to come, and you will address me as Daddy tonight, pet.”
The second I heard the title, I almost let go on accident. “Please, may I come, daddy? Please!”
I moaned loudly by accident as I remembered the way I begged in the dream, the way I called him ‘daddy’… it was so embarrassing, yet so exciting. The more humiliated I felt, the dirtier the dream made me feel, the closer I got to my orgasm.
Bryan had never played with my ass before, nor had I ever called him ‘daddy’ — quite the controversial word in the BDSM community, something we’d never discussed. A heated blush spread across my cheeks every time I thought the word. How embarrassing that I was fantasizing about this… I could never tell Bryan about this dream. Who knows what he would think?
I circled my clit frantically, arching my back as arousal flooded through my lower abdomen. A pathetic whimper escaped my lips as my wrist started to tire, making it impossible for me to circle my clit as quickly as I needed to.
The door creaked open, and all the blood drained from my face. A silent moment passed. I didn’t open my eyes. The embarrassment was just too much.
“Do you need some help with that?” Bryan asked, and I could hear the smirk dripping from his voice.
My eyes flew open. He’s not mad?!
He didn’t wait for an answer. He strolled to the bed, not taking any of his clothes off. He pulled something out of the drawer next to the bed, and sat on the bed next to me. Swiftly, he pulled the covers off of me, exposing my bare lower half.
I didn’t see what he had, but I felt it once the strong vibrations started buzzing against my clit.
All of the arousal and warmth that disappeared moments ago came rushing back to me as I realized that he was not upset with me. He pressed his lips to mine firmly, prying my lips open, controlling our kiss.
I writhed on the sheets, whimpering as he firmly pressed the vibrator into my soft flesh, driving me close to my orgasm almost instantly.
His gray eyes bore into mine, completely unreadable. His other hand skimmed over my waist, up to my breast, stroking Ümraniye Manken Escort my nipple, pulling another moan out of me.
The same flood of warmth hit me between my legs, my whole body tingling. Just as I could feel myself tipping over the edge, my breaths coming loud and quick…
He removed the vibrator.
A second after he removed the vibrator, the fingers at my nipple twisted. I squeaked in pain, searching his eyes for an explanation. He gripped my chin with one hand, hard.
“Elena. Are you going to pretend that you don’t know that touching yourself without permission is against the rules?” he demanded firmly, his eyes not leaving mine.
I shook my head frantically. “I know, I’m sorry, I just had a —”
“I didn’t ask for an explanation, Elena. Tell me what the rule is.” he said.
“I’m not allowed to touch myself without permission, Master,” I whispered, careful to use the proper title for the bedroom.
Fear and guilt swirled frantically in my head, but hot arousal continued to pull between my legs. I squirmed uncomfortably, biting my lower lip. He pressed the vibrator on my sensitive clit again, this time dipping two fingers into my soaked pussy at the same time. I let out a high-pitched moan at the full feeling.
The harsh vibrations continued deliciously as his fingers pumped in and out, hard, and I felt myself on the edge, just about to tip over, my vision about to go black with pleasure… And he stopped again, abruptly pulling the vibrator and his fingers away. I groaned, devastated, the sudden emptiness and lack of stimulation almost painful.
The uncomfortable feeling along with the shame of having disobeyed my master made me want to cry. I knew that Bryan didn’t like brats. He wanted an obedient submissive, and I’d always been that for him, until today. Anxiety gripped me, heavy in my chest, as I did my best to take my punishment like the good sub I knew he wanted me to be.
He only took it away for ten seconds, never taking his eyes from mine, and pressed the vibrator against me again. It took less than a minute for the vibrations to take me to the edge again, and although I should have known better, I was hoping that he was done, that he would let me finish. But of course, he didn’t. As soon as my breath quickened, as my pleasure started to peak, he removed the vibrations.
“How does this feel, baby? Tell me,” he growled, viciously swirling the vibrator against my clit.
The overstimulation and sexual frustration was starting to be too much. Tears sprang to my eyes. “Please, I’m sorry, Master,” I begged.
“I asked you a question. How does this feel?” he asked, his voice cold and level.
“It hurts,” I cried. “I’ll do anything, master, I swear, please let me make it up to you—, ”
“Why am I punishing you, Elena?”
“Because I touched myself without permission, and I shouldn’t have!” I moaned breathlessly, nearing the edge again.
“And will you do that again?” he asked, the empty feeling killing me as he pulled the vibrator away again.
“No, Master, never,” I whispered urgently, my eyes closed, trying not to scream when he pressed the toy against me, thrusting his fingers inside me, making a humiliating wet noise.
He continued to pump his fingers in me, and I found myself growing wetter and wetter as I was punished. The more I thought about how embarrassed I was about being caught, the more aroused I became. His strict, authoritative tone when he spoke to me, the way he demanded answers from me, just soaked me further. I found myself lost in thought, remembering the dream, and my pleasure began to build again. I clenched around his fingers, starting to moan, getting so close…
“Oh, please, daddy!” I cried.
As soon as the words left my mouth, as soon as Bryan took the stimulation away, I realized what I’d said. A hot flush crept over my cheeks. I wanted to crawl under the blankets and never come out. Despite my shame and embarrassment, the desperate need for release didn’t subside.
The toy did not return. I pressed my thighs together.
“Open your eyes, pet.”
I opened them, not wanting to upset him any further by disobeying him again.
“Repeat what you just said,” he ordered.
My heartbeat quickened, and I desperately did not want to say it again. But I did my fair share of rule-breaking today, and I was not enjoying where it got me, so I gave in.
“Oh, please, daddy,” I whispered, my tone nothing like the sexually-charged moan from before.
He stared at me, and if it was physically possible for a human to melt from embarrassment, I swear I would have. I couldn’t help but worry that my embarrassing mistake would make things weird between us.
“You will describe to me exactly what you were thinking about before I caught you. In detail,” he growled. “Do a good job, and I will let you orgasm. If you refuse, or if I think you’re lying, I will spank you and leave you unsatisfied.” Ümraniye Masöz Escort
The threat weighed heavy on me. Physically, I didn’t even know it was possible for a girl to want to come as badly as I did in this moment. I also didn’t enjoy being spanked, and this was plenty punishment for me — I had certainly learned my lesson already. I couldn’t read the emotions on his face, and the fear of him being genuinely upset with me was worse than not being allowed to finish.
Desperate to please him again, even in a small way, I relayed the details of my dream to him quickly, trying my best to get it over with.
“I was thinking about a dream I had last night, Master. I-I was handcuffed on the bed… and you were, um, fingering my ass…” I cringed as I said it, and he nodded, his eyes softening just the tiniest amount. That small change in his expression was enough to give me hope that I hadn’t truly fucked something up between us.
“And you made me beg to come… you told me to address you as ‘daddy’. I’m so embarrassed… I won’t touch myself without permission again. I’m sorry. I don’t ever want to displease you.” My voice became pleading.
Finally, the cold expression left his face, and he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to my lips.
“Such a good girl,” he whispered. “I’m very proud of you for explaining yourself and apologizing.”
He pressed the vibrator against me again, this time much more gentle. My body climbed slowly toward my orgasm this time, and he caressed my breast as he swirled the vibrator on my clit.
“Does calling me ‘daddy’ turn you on, kitten? You will tell me the truth.”
Waves of warmth, of pleasure, fell over my body, and a hot blush once again bloomed over my cheeks. “I-I mean, it’s…” I trailed off, knowing he wanted a straight answer, not a drawn-out explanation. “It does, Master.”
“You don’t need to be embarrassed. When I let you come, you will say ‘thank you, daddy’. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
He kissed my neck and collarbone tenderly, still caressing me and stimulating my clit. When I got close, I tensed, praying he wouldn’t be cruel enough to take my orgasm away this time.
He didn’t, and finally my climax took over me. I moaned and whimpered and writhed under his touch, unable to form a single coherent thought due to the strength of my orgasm. I rode it as long as I could, and my body felt as if it was unraveling completely in ecstasy.
My voice was barely more than a whisper when I followed my master’s order: “Thank you, daddy.”
“Good job, baby,” Bryan whispered. He was now on top of me, taking my face in one hand, his soft lips moving passionately on mine. My body was blissfully relaxed, and the words of praise induced a swell of happiness in my chest.
He unzipped his jeans, and he was inside me, moving slowly, breathing heavily. He stretched me in the most pleasurable way, filling me completely. I let out a breathy whisper of a moan, thinking about how much I loved him — and how happy I was that everything was okay between us. I am never breaking another rule again, I swore to myself.
I kissed his neck. The afternoon sunlight shone through the white curtains, highlighting the warm, toned skin of his strong forearms hovering over me. He rocked back and forth, gradually getting faster, and pleasure flooded from my lower stomach down through my toes.
“I love you, Master,” I breathed, followed by a sweet moan as one of his hands stroked my nipple. His lips were on mine again, his tongue gently slipping between my lips, speeding the pace of hips even more. I could hear his breath quickening. I reached between us, stroking his balls.
His tender whisper against my lips came at the same time as my second orgasm: “I love you too, Elena.”
He came moments later as I clenched around him, and my toes curled as I came down from my climax, the sweet pleasure dissipating into blissful relaxation throughout my body. He rolled us over, holding me sweetly from behind, and planted a sweet kiss on my cheek.
After a few minutes of laying together, he got up and left, ordering me to wait a moment. He returned moments later with a warm washcloth and some chocolate-chip cookies, which I’d long forgotten. He took his time wiping me with the damp cloth, stroking my thighs tenderly as he ensured I was clean.
“Alright, kitten,” he said after disposing of the cloth, settling onto the bed next to me with the cookies, pulling me snugly against his side. “Wanna watch a movie?”
I nodded, smiling up at him. His hair was all tousled, his shirt wrinkled from all the commotion. God, I love him so much.
He put Star Wars on, and selected a cookie, looking at me expectantly. “Open up,” he ordered.
I giggled and obeyed, opening my mouth. He popped half of the cookie into my mouth, eating the other half with one hand and ruffling my hair with the other.
“Sir, if you don’t mind me asking… how did you know to come in here? I thought you were going to be working most of the day,” I pouted.
Bryan laughed. “I heard you go up the stairs. You have no reason to be up here during the day, so I got curious and stood outside the door,” he chuckled. “I heard your little whimpers, and then it clicked.”
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