Blindfolded

Lying there bound and blindfolded on the bed, I suddenly realize how wrong I was when I thought it would be no big deal. It's such a low level of pain, the way my shoulders hurt, but lying there without any other sensations, it seems almost intolerable. Time goes veryyyyy slowly. 

Initially there's not much to focus on besides what angle makes my shoulders ache less and just how damn right daddy was about the AC making me cold. Being so cold makes me keep thinking about the night I was stranded in the boat in the middle of the bay with my sister, how cold we were that night and how I gave her all the towels to use as blankets since she's my little sister, how guilty I felt for not keeping her safer when she was with me. I think being so cold makes time go even slower. I discover that as long as I keep thinking to myself, "you are not cold" I feel a little warmer. Then I can hear daddy on the phone from the other room, and it's like being given something you didn't even know you wanted. I stop mentally squirming and just listen to his voice. While I can hear daddy time resumes its normal pace and I stop shivering, although I think the goosebumps stay. Eventually I hear daddy approach and my adrenaline spikes, although he only stops in for a quick slap of my ass and an extremely hard twist of my nipple that catches me totally off guard. It's so sudden that it really fucking hurts, but as soon as he's gone I miss him and his touch, want him to come back and hurt me more. After what was surely another eternity he does.

Being blindfolded is a rush, not knowing how or where I'll be touched next. Unlike with the other guy, the blindfold lends daddy no anonymity. I don't need to see him to feel this is definitely daddy, my body knows him too well, I guess it makes sense that is should since he owns it. Strangely though I find the reverse is true this time, I feel less awareness of self today, with my eyes covered, just some nameless little whore. I have a fleeting image of having a bag stuck over my head one day, tied up, suspended, just a thing for daddy to use. 

Today, I'm tied up on my hands and knees, with my face pressed into the mattress and my ass in the air, legs spread. It's hard position to maintain since I actually have to put effort into not moving away from the blows of the cane, especially since it leaves my pussy wide open and vulnerable. The instinct to protect my pussy from harm is strong; I want it in good working order, so I can be fucked as much as possible. He teases me, running the cane, or is it the crop? maybe both, along my pussy. It feels really good, too, but I can't relax into it because I know the pain is coming. I try to hold still for it, so it doesn't seem like I don't want it—I fail miserably of course. I always get angry at myself in this position, wanting to take more. I can really tell the difference in the way I react to the Zapper—the other night, tied immobile on the chair, I wasn't even afraid of it, it barely registered as a slight discomfort, it seems to me like I didn't even flinch at it. Now, like this, I scream and twist away from it. I know daddy holds back when he thinks I can't handle more, it's a good thing, it makes me feel safe with him. But I want to handle more, always, like a little kid, moremoremore. I want it for me, selfishly, I like it, it makes me feel alive, stronger, weaker, softer, everything. I want it for daddy to, I want him to be able to release those holds, really let himself go. Plus, I like the pain, the way the cane bites into my ass, the surprisingly pleasant sting when daddy bites my shoulder which is slightly burnt. He trails the cane along my back and for the first time I feel it across my shoulders, my upper back. I remember thinking how naive I am, of course canes don't have to stay contained to just asses—I'm delighted in daddy's explorations, his cleverness. 

Eventually, still blindfolded, daddy releases my feet and flips me over. Being face up and stil unable to see is a new awareness of the loss of sight. Now the crop is applied to my thighs, now daddy's cock is being shoved into my mouth, now my nipples are being tortured. Blindfolded, time really seems to have no meaning, all that passes are sensations. I grow aware of wanting to be fucked, of wanting daddy's cock inside me. Finally, it happens, the blindfold taken off. After the pain, it feels like a reward, like I've momentarily earned the privilege of being fucked by daddy. I like feeling that way, just a dirty little whore that daddy plays with, worthless except for when I'm being used. This time when his hand goes around my throat, I'm sure I don't want him to stop, but by the time I'm on the edge of passing out survival instinct has taken over and I tap out. Through it all I'm aware of just how good it feels to be fucked, like my pussy is in its own universe oblivious to what else is happening. And when I'm allowed to cum daddy says to look at him, and i feel complete again, remade, united. Later, when I'm on the edge again, he'll tell me not to cum yet. Maybe it's the after effect of being blindfolded, or simply from being stuck there so close to the edge, not wanting to disobey and cum when he says I can't, but I have never been so aware of the sensation of daddy's cock inside me. It seems like I can feel the tiniest of movements, nuances of pleasure from the different strokes, the interaction of his head, or his shaft on different parts of my pussy, it's so-fucking-incredible, dizzying, definitely the sweetest torture daddy's devised to date.

Republished with permission from Daddy's Little Whore. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.