As Flin continued, Laila knew she was far beyond crying now. She was nearly in that happy, still place she’d gone to the first time Flin had done an extended play session with her—subspace, he’d said it was called. That time, of course, had been intentionally sensual. She suspected that if she dropped into subspace this time, she’d be in even more trouble, but she didn’t know how to control it.
“Your bottom is a very ruby red color,” Flin commented. “It’s almost looking like it’s lit from within.”
Several more of the same hard swats landed on her poor bottom.
“That’s done it. Now it really does look as though it’s lit up. Keep your bottom up,” Flin said, and entered her again. This time, Laila didn’t even ask if she could come. The feeling of imminently needing to let go was becoming familiar. He fucked her with a few long strokes, then pushed in all the way while his hand touched her clit.
Laila made a strange, strangled noise.
“Are you ready to come?” Flin asked softly.
“Yes, Master,” Laila nodded.
“Too bad,” Flin said. He untied Laila and rearranged the pillows against the headboard.
“Go and sit with your back against the pillows,” Flin ordered. Once Laila had moved, her balance wobbly, he took each wrist and tied it to the headboard, then tied her feet so her legs were separated. Her pussy felt the cool air of the room.
Just out of reach of Laila, Flin sat on the bed facing her. She eyed his huge cock and wondered what he was going to do next. Was he going to make her suck it?
He surrounded his thick cock with one of his huge fists, and began pumping up and down. Laila watched, entranced, listening to the little noises he made as he got himself off. She was totally helpless to participate, and she couldn’t believe how much of a turn-on this was as she flexed against the bonds that held her. All she could do was watch as his body stiffened and he came with a shout, spraying his come all over her breasts. The hot liquid landed on her sensitive nipples, making her arch her hips as her pussy spasmed, trying desperately to get in on the action.
“Please, Master, I can’t take any more!” Laila begged, amazed at how sexy she found it to just watch him, unable to take part, as he gave himself pleasure and made himself come.
He tilted his head slightly.
“You can’t take any more? But I’m not doing anything to you, Laila,” he said, clearly amused.
“You’re being all sexy and I can’t move!” she cried. “Please!”
“Are you forgetting that this is a punishment?” Flin’s tone turned icy cold.
Laila’s face fell and she tried to push thoughts of orgasms out of her mind. “I’m sorry.” He nodded, and she knew he wasn’t really as detached as he seemed.
Flin brought himself to orgasm again quickly, covering her breasts in a fresh coating of hot liquid, making her moan once more. She wished he’d stop teasing her.
This was worse than the spanking, she decided, as she watched him bring himself to another orgasm, this time covering her stomach as the white fluid on her breasts migrated downwards, tickling her skin.
“You are officially a come-covered slut,” he pronounced, as he took a long look at her. Laila giggled.
“Time to clean you up again.” He wiped the liquid come from her body, then untied her and carried her to the bathroom. Being held against his warm body, with his masculine smell, only turned her on more.
Under the hot mist from the showerhead, Laila luxuriated in the sensation on her sensitized skin. She reached down to touch herself, thinking it wouldn’t matter if she just had a little orgasm around about now. Flin was quickly upon her, throwing the shower door open and grabbing both of her wrists, pinning them above her head against the cold metal of the shower wall with one of his huge hands. She could feel the strength of his hands as he increased the pressure on her wrists. He growled, a guttural dominant sound, and kissed Laila on the mouth, plundering her, taking what was his. She felt utterly under his power.
“You’re not allowed to come,” he stated. “If you try again, I’ll tie your wrists and wash you myself.” Before she could tell him how much she craved his touch, he added, “In cold water.”
Laila decided to behave. It was bad enough getting a punishment of this magnitude. Earning another punishment during the punishment seemed unthinkable. She moaned as he released her wrists. Paying particular attention to her breasts and stomach, which had been covered in a lot of Flin’s come, Laila washed herself with the bubbly soapy liquid, then thrust her chest out to let the water wash the soap away. It felt so good on her skin, especially her nipples, which hadn’t stopped being hard. The idea of losing all this, of losing him, through her reckless behavior, made her realize just how much she loved him.
Flin turned the water off and passed her a towel. Once Laila was dry, he bent her over the bathtub.
“There’s a couple of last things I want to do before your punishment will be over,” he said, and Laila heard the ominous click of a bottle opening, then a cold solid object pressed against her ass. It was enormous, and it just seemed to keep on going.
“That’s too big!” Laila cried, as it kept getting wider and deeper, opening her up.
“You can take it,” Flin said heartlessly.
“Please, Master! It won’t fit!” She felt like she was stretched and about to burst. The stimulation in her ass was adding to her arousal, making her struggle to stay still while Flin filled her ass.
“Push back on it,” Flin told her. Laila tried, and found it slightly relieved the solid feeling of Flin’s anal invasion. All of a sudden, the intolerable pressure eased off as the widest part passed her inner sphincter and left her filled, but not too stretched, as she closed around the stem of the huge butt plug. Her first thought was to expel it, but it wasn’t going anywhere. Before she knew what was happening, Flin had flipped her upright again and he led her back to his cabin, where he lay her on her front and clipped her wrists and ankles together with something made of cold metal.
“Don’t even think about making yourself come.” He closed the door, and Laila was left on his bed, helpless and bound, awaiting her master’s return. He might not have collared her yet, he might never do that; she knew she had given him plenty of reasons to find a better slave than she, but it didn’t matter. Her heart told her that she wanted to do whatever he wanted her to do.
She felt the sting in her bottom still buzzing on the surface as she wondered what else he was going to do. When he returned, sometime later, he unfastened her and attached the leash to the collar.
“Up you get. We are going down to the cargo bay.”
* * *
Flin sat on a small crate. Sitting down, he was the same height as Laila, who was standing. For some reason, that scared her more than if he’d been towering over her. He casually held out a large paddle, made of a heavy-looking dark wood.
“The thing with paddles, Laila, is that their effectiveness depends on the weight of the wood. A denser wood will hit much harder than a lighter wood, but it tires the wrist and has the potential to do more lasting damage. I’m going to use this paddle, made of Cerulean redwood. It’s a heavy, dense wood, especially compared to the wood of those pine trees that humans have filled every corner of the galaxy with. The nice thing about this redwood is that it isn’t so dense as to make it hard to lift or carry. So it hits hard, but I can keep going for a very, very long time.” He placed the paddle next to him on the crate and held out his hand. Laila let him guide her up and over his knee, then she let him move her around as her toes barely touched the floor and her fingertips had to stretch to help her balance. She was slightly apprehensive but resigned to her fate, now.
A hand landed on her bottom. She gasped in shock. He was still hitting hard… or was it the fact that she’d been spanked so much today? The second swat landed on her sit spot, making her cry out as the butt plug, now getting sore to wear, was affected by the movement in her bottom.
Flin must ha
ve covered every inch in swats with the palms of his huge hands, Laila thought, as she tried to wiggle the burn away. She didn’t like the way that her bottom was so pliable around the solid butt plug, so with every spank she was reminded just how big it was.
When he stopped, Laila was lulled into a sense of relief as her bottom radiated burn, until he said, “You’re going to take fifteen of the paddle, now, Laila.”
Chapter Sixteen
Fifteen swats; could her bottom handle that, she wondered? Laila didn’t think fifteen sounded like a lot. Maybe this would be easy. Then she remembered the strap.
The first thud of the paddle made her yelp in shock. It was so hard and unyielding, just like the butt plug in her ass. When the paddle landed on her sit spot, she felt sure she would have fallen forwards, had Flin not been holding her tightly with his other arm. The flat thudding of the paddle was worse than the unicorn crop, she decided, as she began to cry for what seemed like the millionth time today.
She wasn’t counting, and had no idea how many were left; she just accepted that she had done wrong, she was being punished, and that it would only be over when Flin decided it was over. It was incredibly freeing, but it still hurt so much!
The paddling was so painful, but Laila felt like it was cleaning her soul. She knew he could have left her for the quorak, but he didn’t. She also knew she needed this; his control, his consequences, and his high standards. And she knew (and here she cried harder) that she just trashed everything she had with him, by breaking the trust he placed in her. When it finally stopped—those fifteen strokes had gone on for what seemed like forever—she cried herself out over Flin’s knee, still held by his unyielding arm, until she was silent, and waiting for the next thing.
She felt a firm pressure pulling the butt plug away from her, easing it out of her ass, and she hated the stretching feeling as it widened again before it narrowed, and was finally all the way out. The void in her ass felt strange, now.
“Your punishment is over, and I forgive you for what you did. You took it well, and I want to make you come now, Laila,” Flin said, holding his hand out. Still sniffling, she took his hand, and he led the way to his cabin.
The room looked pristine again. Laila didn’t often see inside Flin’s cabin, but now she suspected Flin was a bit of a clean freak. It fitted with what she knew about his perfectionist tendencies.
“On the bed,” he said.
“How?” she asked, uncertain about which way to position herself.
Flin seemed to be thinking, then said, “On your back, legs apart, please.”
Laila complied, savoring the crisp, cool feel of the silver, satiny sheets. Her clit throbbed needfully. Flin touched it with a finger, and a spark of electricity shot through Laila. He circled it, making her roll her hips, then he stroked it, in slow upwards motions. The feeling was divine, and Laila moaned while Flin kept stroking her like that. After several strokes, he took his hand away, then spanked her pussy several times, firmly but not harshly. The little tingles felt so good, and Laila tried to remain perfectly still so she didn’t miss a single spank.
She felt like she’d been waiting for this her entire life, as she lay on her back and Flin entered her, gazing into her eyes with his beautiful pink ones, while his golden hair was falling on her neck and gently caressing it. One of his hands stroked her right breast, then her left one, making her nipples feel like a conduit to something deep inside her, at the same time that her pussy was stretched with his cock.
A residual tingle in her ass, a memory of where the butt plug had been, combined for a second with the feeling in her pussy and through her nipples, and Laila instinctively pulled her legs wider apart, thrusting her hips up toward him, as Flin filled her again and again.
When the feeling had built up to the strongest it had ever been, she looked at him, wondering whether he was really going to let her come this time.
“Please, Flin?”
“What do you want? Say it,” he prompted.
“Please, can I come?” Laila didn’t know if she could hold on for much longer, or whether it would just happen of its own accord.
“You’d better come on my cock, before I change my mind and decide to fuck you for my own pleasure again.” His words sent Laila spiraling over the edge, screaming, writhing, as he continued to fuck her. She felt like she was the plucked string of a musical instrument, buzzing with the sound as it reverberated throughout her body, reaching her hands, her feet, and the top of her head, the sound growing ever larger, until it died away, leaving the silence a little better for having experienced the sound of the string.
She came apart from him and fell back against the cool sheets, shaking; her nerves had been wrought too tight then released too loosely.
“I’m so sorry for what I did,” she said, meaning it from the bottom of her heart.
“I already told you; it’s all over now, and I forgive you.”
“You shouldn’t,” Laila said glumly. “What if that quorak had eaten you? I will never forgive myself.”
“Come here.” He squeezed her and stroked her hair, while Laila nestled into him. She felt so contented here, and safe from the outside world. For all that he acted like he was mean and strict, Flin could be almost as snuggly as Basil sometimes.
“Laila, I’ve told you what happened with my last relationship, and I did everything I could to keep you at arm’s length when we first met, but I can’t help myself, I’m drawn to you,” Flin said. “I want to make you my slave, but I will only do that if you want it too. I think you’ve got the right temperament to do the sorts of things I want to do with you.”
Laila’s heart soared, as she looked up at him and wondered whether he really meant it. She was still uncertain where, exactly, she stood with Flin. Was it because she didn’t stand anywhere? What did being his slave really mean? Would he keep her in a cage all the time, and crawling on her hands and knees for the opportunity to serve him?
“What would we… uh… do?” she asked, still uncertain about it. Sex with Flin was incredible, and Laila wanted to spend every waking moment around him, do anything he asked her to (and some things he never would, such as adore him in her dreams), but if she agreed to be his slave, what was she getting herself into?
“I would put a collar around your pretty neck and train you to do whatever I wanted you to,” Flin said. “As my slave, you would learn how to trust me more deeply than you can imagine. You would be expected to speak your mind when asked. During sex, you would be more concerned that you might orgasm before I permitted you to, instead of fearing that you might never come at all. Ultimately, you would learn how to obey, not just because I told you to do something and you wanted to show me your submission, but because ultimately, our interests would converge, until you would want exactly what I want. It’s a perfect state of intelligent symbiosis. How does that sound to you, Laila?” he asked, still stroking her hair.
“How do we get from where we are now to… uh… what you said?” Laila asked. She was pretty sure she knew what he meant, even if she didn’t understand the exact words he’d used.
“That’s where training comes in,” Flin said. “With your consent, I intend to spend considerable time and effort—and so will you—working on your training, until all those things become second nature.”
“What if I was just incapable of doing something?” Laila asked.
“Then I would accept that, and do something else,” Flin said. “I know you’re not incapable of being spanked or fucked. You wouldn’t have limits with me, as submissives and littles have limits, but I know how you feel about certain things, I know how you—or your body—would respond if I went past certain points. It seems reasonable that I would only do those things if I wanted you to react the way I know you would. For example, I know you start clawing at my face if I touch inside your belly button, so I would only touch inside your belly button if I wanted you to claw at my face. It’s unlikely that I’d ever want you to do that to me, isn�
��t it?”
“Makes sense. And what if I wanted to leave? I don’t want to be stuck on a spaceship and not be able to leave if you did something that went much too far.”
“If you wanted to leave, you could either ask for release from your collar or you could request to be sold. That might sound harsh, but for some people, the idea of being completely released, of no longer being a slave, would be worse than the idea of being sold to someone. If you grew to feel like that, I would ensure that you found a new home with someone appropriate. Remember, I don’t keep slaves who no longer wish to be kept. I think the more important thing for you to recognize right now is that all your reservations and hang-ups center around trust.” He paused, and Laila thought about this. She thought she trusted him, but this was the ultimate proof of trust, and she had doubts. What was she really afraid of, she asked herself. That was easy; she was afraid of giving him every effort she could muster, and of still not being good enough; or worse, giving him everything and then discovering he wasn’t worthy of it. Was that where her doubts came from? Then there was the other glaring problem with this proposed arrangement: Basil. Her heart wrenched when she thought about how bad things seemed to have gotten between her and Basil.
“I love the idea of letting you make decisions for me and letting you give me a sense of direction, and I know I hurt him pretty bad, but what if Basil still wants a relationship with me, too?” Laila asked.
Flin smiled. “Then that’s up to you and Basil. If you really want two men spanking you, that’s entirely your choice. I said on our first playdate that one of my hard limits is monogamy. I can’t say that, then expect you to be monogamous, can I?” Flin explained.
Laila nodded.
“I guess. I just thought if you were the master, you could do what you wanted with whoever you wanted, and I couldn’t. If I had any choice at all, it seems like it should be through you, not independently of you, if that makes sense.”
Her Daddy and Her Master Page 23