Her Daddy and Her Master

by Katie Douglas

  For the rest of the hour, Laila tried to predict what Flin might plan to do to her. Thoughts about what might await them all in Pombos were put aside in favor of the more immediate events. It seemed like punishment was imminent. Maybe it would blast through some of the concrete boxing her in amongst the high walls of endless thoughts and fears. Maybe she would stop feeling so guilty. Maybe she would be able to sit down again when they reached Pombos.

  Eager not to make this worse, Laila went down to the cargo bay on time, where Flin stood waiting for her. He was dressed in black pants, a white shirt, a high-lapelled jacket with a long pair of tails, and a top hat, and in one hand he held some rope.

  Laila balked when she saw the rope and stopped dead on the steps. She gripped the handrail and wondered how far she would get if she tried to run away. His legs were so much longer than hers, she probably wouldn’t make it to the top of the stairs, she decided.

  “You’re keeping me waiting,” he remarked.

  Laila took a deep breath and closed her eyes, fully intending to walk toward him, but she just couldn’t. She turned and tried to flee, but her feet had only gone up two steps before she felt Flin’s hand on her shoulder.

  “Don’t make me force you,” he growled. “You really won’t like the consequences.”

  Aroused but still afraid, Laila reluctantly turned and descended the stairs.

  “Sorry,” she said, when she reached the floor of the cargo bay.

  “A naughty submissive only gets to speak when I ask her a direct question. And she addresses me as ‘Master,’ regardless of whether I’ve seen fit to accept her as my slave yet. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Master,” she replied.

  “Good. Take your clothes off, please.”

  Laila was wearing the purple top with the black starry leggings, today. Flin was standing three feet away, giving her nowhere to hide as she undressed. She self-consciously slipped the top over her head and, for lack of anywhere to put it, folded it up and placed it on the floor. She kicked her sparkly sneakers off and removed her socks, then slid her leggings down, folding them too, so she was standing, feeling exposed, in her bra and panties.

  “Take your underwear off too, please.”

  Laila hesitated for a second, then unhooked her bra, barely glancing at her small breasts before shimmying out of her knickers. She stood before him, naked, slightly embarrassed, and entirely uncertain about what he was going to do with her. Flin had never punished her before, and had only ever used pain in a sensual, erotic way, so Laila didn’t know what to expect, except that she was sure it would be harsher than any punishment from Basil. Would there even be snuggles afterwards?

  “Go to the staircase and stand in front of it,” Flin said. Laila turned and walked toward it, feeling Flin’s eyes on her naked bottom. She stopped before the first step, and waited for further instructions.

  “Bend over, hold onto the railings,” he ordered. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that he still held the rope. She hated the idea of being restrained.

  “Please don’t tie me up.”

  “What color are you feeling?” came the response.

  “Orange,” she said.

  “Then bend over, hold onto the railings,” he reiterated. With a sigh, Laila complied. As she felt him tie her hands to the handrails, she closed her eyes and tried to center herself. This was happening, she told herself, whether she wanted it to happen exactly like this or not. Laila tested whether she could pull free while he wasn’t looking, but even though the rope didn’t feel too tight, he had managed to hold her fast.

  A few seconds later, she heard a swooshing sound, then a stick was thrust in front of her.

  “Know what this is?” he asked.

  “No, Master.” She had a fairly good idea that it was going to be used on her bottom, but hoped he would prove her wrong and that it would turn out to be a special hi-tech chocolate summoning stick or something.

  “It’s a switch cut from a Telian Whip Tree. On my home planet, a Whip Tree is specially grown near all dwellings, and the sticks are cut from it for one reason; to chastise naughty bottoms.”

  There it was, Laila thought. She knew it had been something like that. The chances of it being a stick for summoning chocolate had been too remote.

  “Usually, the punishment duration is dictated by the longevity of the stick. When the stick breaks, that’s often the end of the punishment, but it is not unheard of for particularly unrepentant individuals to get up to seven sticks, although seven is the limit due to Telian laws regarding punishments,” Flin said. Laila looked at the stick with a growing sense of horror. “Out here, in space, of course, there’s no such laws. In your case, however, I won’t be breaking any sticks. After all, where would I get another one, this distance off-world? Count fifteen, please.”

  Laila was surprised by the rapid shift from the geography lesson to her chastisement, and the first stroke caught her unawares.

  “Yeeeoooooowwwww!” she shouted, as she strained against the ropes holding her in place. The stick sliced across her bottom and burned.

  “That’s not a number, Laila. Back to zero. Count fifteen, please.” Flin seemed totally insensitive to Laila’s pain as a second stroke scored agonizingly into her flesh.

  “Owwwwww! O-one!”

  He leaned in and pulled her hair as he said, “Don’t forget to address me as Master or I’ll add extras.” The following strike was just as bad, bringing tears to her eyes already.

  “Two… ooo… oooh, Ma… aa… aaster!”

  At the next stroke, she was astounded that her pussy twitched, despite the searing pain slicing across her bottom.

  “Threeee, owwwww, M-M-Master!” She tried to imagine something nice, to distract herself from the pain, but the only thing that came to mind right then was the feeling of standing too close to a bonfire.

  “Fooourrr… Maa… aaster!” She began crying, and as Flin continued to strike her unprotected bottom with the switch, her sobs turned to howls as the tears continued to fall.

  As they got into the higher numbers, Flin varied his speed, and Laila never knew when to expect the next one, with some happening in short succession and others being minutes apart. They reached fifteen, and Laila went limp in her bindings, still sobbing, hoping Flin would untie her now. Her pussy was soaked and she was barely able to believe that she craved his attentions, despite the pain of her punishment. She gasped as she felt something pressing at the entrance to her back passage.

  “What’s that, Master?”

  “Your butt plug. You’re very wet, my dear.” Flin continued working it into her. She hated the part where it went in. It was the hardest. Until it came back out again, anyway.

  “It feels bigger, Master.” She suspected this was a wider butt plug.

  “I know,” he said, frustrating her by neither confirming nor denying it. “You’re still being punished, so please remember to only speak when you’re spoken to.”

  “Sorry, Master.” It seemed like the only thing to say, but then she wondered if she should have said anything at all.

  As it kept getting even wider, Laila was sure it was a bigger one. It suddenly shot in as her ass closed around the base. When he let go, the plug felt heavier than usual.

  “Now let’s start again. Count fifteen.”

  “Oh, no, please, Flin, I’ve learned my lesson, I swear I won’t forget to use my butt plug again, or go anywhere on my own, I just—owwwww! One, Master!” She was eager not to have to start from the beginning again, and it seemed that Flin was in no mood to listen to negotiations. He brought the switch down again.

  “Yeeeeooowwww! Twooooo, Master!”

  “Next time you forget, I’ll find the largest butt plug on the ship and cement it to your chair so you have to sit on it,” Flin said. “I believe Basil has one that measures five inches across at its widest point. I’m sure he would be glad to help you work out the circumference.”

  “Please don’t! I’ll never do it
again, Master!” Laila was never sure if he or Basil were serious or not when they made these sorts of outlandish threats, but she didn’t want to find out, either.

  He waited over a minute before striking again. Laila screamed, and began to cry again, furious with her pussy for betraying her and encouraging him with all the wetness it was producing!

  “Threeeee, M-Master.”

  “You’re making a mess. It’s running down your leg,” Flin stated, then struck her once more.

  “Arrrrgh! I’m sorry, Master! Fourrrr!” She moved her hips from side to side to try and shake off the burning feeling.

  “Stop wiggling or I’ll have to tie your feet down, too.”

  “It hurts!” Laila retorted angrily.

  She was rewarded with another stroke of the Whip Tree stick.

  “Fii… hiii… hiive, Ma… ha… haster.” The tears were pouring down her face by now. She didn’t know if she could make it to fifteen.

  Flin waited again. And waited. Laila opened her mouth to speak, took a breath, then let it all back out in a scream as the stick bit into her bottom again.

  “Si-six. Please, Master, I can’t take any more!” she sobbed. It was burning in a spider’s web of lines across her bottom, and she didn’t know how she could get through this.

  “Yes, you can. I’ll decide when I’m finished with you.” Flin wasn’t taking any crap today, Laila thought, as her pussy continued to get wetter and dripped onto the floor.

  He delivered the next two in quick succession, and Laila felt them burn in the shape of an X on her sit spot as he added a third. The point where they all converged was feeling like it had just been bitten. She shrieked and flew upright, stamping her feet and pulling against the handrail where she was tied.

  “Let me go!” she bellowed through her tears. “You’ve made your point.”

  “I don’t think I have,” Flin said. “The point I’m making is that I’m in control here. I told you not to leave your room on your own, and you thought you knew better. I also gave you an instruction to follow on a daily basis. You’ve neglected it while you wallowed in self-pity, and you were downright rude to me earlier when I came to speak with you about it.”

  He brought the stick down again.

  “You can do nothing to stop this, Laila. You will accept my authority. Count.”

  “Ten! It’s ten, Master.” She went limp again, still sobbing, as he continued to punish her with the Whip Tree stick, and soon the only sounds were of her crying and her counting out the strokes. After the final stroke, Laila was still crying from the burning lava in her bottom when she felt something at the entrance to her vagina. She hoped Flin was about to take her, claim her as his again, but as it pushed at her opening, the object felt cold. It wasn’t Flin’s cock, she was certain of that. It slid inside her, then she felt it start to vibrate. The next thing she knew, the butt plug was vibrating too! Flin fastened it all in place with a strange belt-like device that stung when it was put between her cheeks.

  Flin untied her from the railings and walked her to a corner.

  “Hands behind your head, feet apart, stay there until I tell you to move,” he ordered, then walked away, leaving Laila in the corner. Her bottom cheeks were still smoldering like orange coals, and now there were conflicting sensations in her ass and pussy, wonderful feelings, coursing through her and raising her up from the exhausting switching. She hazarded a peek over her shoulder and saw Flin sitting on a box, apparently doing some woodcarving with a knife.

  “Face forward, Laila. And don’t come without permission.”

  Oh, no, Laila thought, this is part of the punishment, isn’t it? She had hoped it was over when she felt the vibrations down below, but now she realized it was just a different kind of retribution.

  As she hurtled closer to an imminent orgasm, she wondered whether she was allowed to ask to come. Flin had told her to only speak when she was spoken to, although she noticed he hadn’t told her off when she forgot. She got even closer, unable to contain herself as her pussy responded to the sensations from the vibrator. Laila longed for Flin to fill her with himself, as she remembered how, when they’d had sex, his huge curved cock had pressed against her from all directions.

  It was her ass that seemed to start everything off. She felt it tense, then wave after wave of acute ecstasy pulsed through her, and she gripped her hands tightly behind her head, her feet raised her onto her tippy toes, as she tried very hard to orgasm quietly. Maybe Flin wouldn’t hear her, so he wouldn’t punish her?

  “One,” he said from where he sat. Laila sighed. He knew she’d come, then, she thought. What did he mean by ‘one’ anyway? One orgasm? One more punishment? One minute left in the corner? As ever, when he was in dominant mode, he was totally unreadable.

  She thought she’d gotten used to the vibrations after the orgasm, but now she felt herself building up to another one, and she tried to expel the vibrator and the butt plug before she got into more trouble, but they were held in place. There was nothing she could do to stop them stimulating her pussy and ass.

  Several minutes later, the powerful sensations became too much, and Laila felt herself falling into another orgasm. This one was more intense than the last, and she couldn’t help but make a small sigh as her pussy and ass contracted around the butt plug and vibrator working inside her.

  “Two,” he said.

  Exhausted, she wondered whether his plan was to leave her here forever. The power cells in the toys had to run out eventually, she thought. How many orgasms would she be forced to have, standing in the corner with her hands laced behind her head, before then?

  The toys pushed her into a third, frenzied orgasm after which she leaned over, her hands rested just above her slightly bent knees, as she tried to stop herself falling over, then struggled back into position.

  “Three,” he said.

  Laila was sure he was counting orgasms now. After the third, he came over and unfastened the harness that had been holding the vibrator inside her. He switched both toys off and removed the vibrator, leaving the butt plug where it was, then he led her to a wooden cargo crate.

  “Bend over the box, with your hands outstretched, please.”

  She did as she was told, feeling slightly apprehensive. This didn’t seem like the sort of position he would want her in to have sex, but surely he wasn’t going to continue her punishment after how sore he’d already made her bottom?

  “You came without permission three times. You didn’t even ask. Wait here.” He returned with what looked like a long stick wrapped in some sort of white leather, with a flattish loop of leather at the end. Laila’s heart sank.

  “This is a unicorn riding crop. It’s slightly larger than the standard riding crop used on the planets where Homo sapiens introduced horses, because unicorns are the larger of the two animals. You’ll notice this crop is also more supple. All in all, it makes for a slightly different experience. Count out twenty, please.”

  Laila’s anticipation was palpable, and her pussy was already crying out for more spanking. What was wrong with it? What was wrong with her? How could she want this, when a moment ago she’d been begging him to stop?

  The first one was only a glancing blow, the area of impact was quite small, and Laila decided she could easily take this.

  “One, Master.”

  The second was harder, but still merely chafed against Laila’s already burning bottom.

  “Two, Master.”

  “Three, Master.”

  The third was starting to sting. Flin caught her with the fourth and she shook slightly.

  “Four, Master.”

  It burned, and Laila realized the real threat of this unicorn crop was the way it built up. The fifth swat came down seconds after the fourth, and Laila felt tears prickle her eyes. Her clit pulsed to life between her legs.

  “Five, Master.”

  The sixth made the feeling in her clit even more persistent, and by the seventh she was panting from the heat in her
bottom and the need for Flin to impale her on his cock.

  “Eight, Master.”

  She struggled to remain standing, and tears started to roll down her cheeks. At the same time, her nipples had never been so hard and her clit was still throbbing to its own tune. If Flin had noticed, it didn’t affect the way he hit her.

  “Twelve, Master.” The last four crops had been harder, and it felt like her entire labia were now buzzing as the pain in her ass made her sob. He picked up the pace.

  “Fourteen. Please, Flin, I need to come!” she cried.

  “Fourteen has you needing to come? Interesting. Keep counting, and address me correctly.” He kept going, seeming not to care about Laila’s predicament.

  “N-n-n-nineteen, Master,” she sobbed, some minutes later; the tears were a mixture of pain and frustration at needing to come so badly. The final swat was hard, and it took all of her resolve to stay put.

  “Tw-twenty, Ma… Master.” She tried to remember to keep breathing as she awaited whatever Flin wanted to do with her next.

  “Stay there.” A few seconds later she felt something soft trace its way up her back.

  “What’s that, Master?” She couldn’t resist asking, even though its soft feeling was conspiring with her burning bottom and making her need his cock even more.

  “It’s a unicorn hair flogger; I made it from hairs shed from the tails of unicorns. It’s the gentlest flogger of them all.”

  He trailed its soft, long tails up the length of her back, and the soft caress made Laila shudder with pleasure.

  Swat!

  The crop smacked her right cheek, making her gasp in surprise, then Flin went back to trailing the unicorn hair flogger over her, this time using it on the sensitive spanked skin of her bottom, soothing her. The sensation produced a feeling of warmth that traveled down to the soles of her feet.

  Swat!

  He swatted her with the crop again, making her yelp, then she wiggled her ass, trying to get some friction on her clit.

  Flin continued alternating caresses of the unicorn hair flogger with swats of the crop, until Laila was lost in a mist of pain and snuggle, all mixing together into one, as her orgasm teetered ever closer.