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Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 01

By: bill33



It's finally autumnal. It's the angle of the light. There's been a chill - that's not new; but it's the light this afternoon that's made the difference.

I came home early by two days. I called you two nights ago and you answered the phone warmly and sleepily and you sounded so happy to hear that I'd changed my flight and you said, "I'm so glad - I'll be waiting, Daddy." And now - I'll be waiting, Daddy - echoing in my head - now as I walk up the street the way I know you'll be coming home from class - I'll be waiting, Daddy - it's like slow fire in my veins against the cool air. 

I missed you more than is reasonable for a gentleman to miss a young girl. Especially 'cause we'd only met a few months ago. You'd answered the ad I'd put on the board in the student center last spring - "room for rent, kitchen privileges, three blocks from campus." I had thought it would be good to have someone else around this big old house. Someone to keep an eye on things when I was gone. Someone who'd collect the mail.

I'd thought to hear someone's voice down the upstairs hall would do me good - in the apartment in the old servant's wing now vacant these last ten years. Someone young. Someone who wouldn't mind my nocturnal fits of writing at my piano or bumping around the kitchen downstairs in the wee hours.

You were the first to answer the ad and I liked you right away. Earnest, well spoken, quietly charming. You were at the end of your freshman year and staying on for the summer with a waitressing job down the hill. Could you move in right away? I said yes. 

Now I see you in the distance and you see me. We walk faster and then slow. You stand inches from me - beaming. "I've been waiting for you, Daddy." You take my hand. We walk home together. It will be a very warm night.

--------------------

I can feel you trembling. Your hands are against the big tall old Victorian mirror in the front hall and my left hand is on the small of your back holding you gently in place - just off balance so you can't easily move. You took off your backpack when we stepped inside. I caught you off guard just right and pushed you softly but inexorably forward to where you are now suddenly but pleasantly at my whim.

You can see my face in the mirror over your shoulder. You can see the kindness in my eyes at the same time my expression lets you know that you will comply. You feel yourself give in. You know you will always give in.

My left hand works its way under your sweater - under your camisole until it's on your soft flesh and now my right hand works its way up the inside of your left thigh and under your pleated skirt until it finds your soft, warm mound. No panties. "Good girl," I tell you.

Your cunnie lips are hot and full and, as I part them with my fingers, very wet. "Very good girl," I tell you.

You moan softly as I begin to stroke your silky clitoris.

I push against your back just a littler harder and you lean further forward until the cool glass is against your right cheek. You are looking at me over your shoulder as you begin to rise in excitement. Your wetness is dripping down my fingers.

"My - you are an enthusiastic little thing aren't you, dear?"

"Yes, yes."

"Yes what, darling?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good Girl. You know that tonight is very special, don't you sweetie?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Mmmm hmmm. What will happen tonight, my beautiful little girl?"

"I will give myself to you, Sir."

"Yes you will. I will be your first."

"It will make me so happy, Sir. I will belong to you even more."

"Yes you will. Good girl -"

I know just how to make you come and I make you come now - you are squealing and writhing, pushing your hips back to increase your pleasure on my fingers. Your breath has made a fog on the mirror and I'm telling you, "You are so beautiful, darling. Come for me, baby. Come for me. You are my good girl. My beautiful girl," until your shuddering abates and I slowly release my pressure on your back. 

You catch your breath for a moment then you twist away playfully, giggling and grabbing my hand. You pull me into the house - into the big old formal living room with its high ceilings and dark casements. The soft late afternoon light filters through the drapes and cascades across the rugs. The clock sits unwound on the tall mantle - stopped so it doesn't act as a competing metronome when I'm working.

You stand before me fussing with your scarf and I think to myself that you are like a bay warmblood filly - a vision of loveliness. And you catch me watching you (this way I often do) and you smile and step to me and kiss my mouth - tenderly pushing my lips open with your insistent tongue while you unbutton my cardigan and loosen my tie. 

A languorous kiss. Then your smile again.

"Shall we have a fire?" I ask.

"Yes, please - and a tonic and lime for you and a glass of wine for me, OK?"

"And then some supper, I think. And you can tell me about your classes and all the important news at the big, big school," I tease you.

"Stop patronizing me," you laugh.

"Interesting choice of words, darling."

"It was deliberate - Sir."

I smile. Yes - a warmblood. With spirit and intelligence. It's nice to have someone to talk back at me.

"And you can tell me of your travels and play me your latest song, Daddy," as you saunter back toward the pantry for our drinks. I'll busy myself with the fire while I ponder the entomology of "patron," but for now, I watch your hips sway as you disappear through the double-hinged door.

I think of Higgins: "I've grown accustomed to her face." Damn indeed. I sure hope you don't run off in a year or so - chasing some lucky young man. I lean against the piano. I'm frozen. And the words play:

"I was serenely independent and content until we met... "Surely I could always be that way again- "And yet..."

You're back with our drinks and I'm standing there in the growing shadows. You catch my expression. "Don't leave," I say.

You hand me my tonic and lime - "Yes, Daddy. Never."

Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 02



Chapter 02

First Kiss

You're no gutter-snipe flower girl in need of allocution lessons and our first kiss wasn't my idea - far from it.

You had moved in to your room in what had been the servant's wing just three weeks when, late one night, I heard your crying. It was softly echoing down the back spiral stairs that lead to the big old kitchen on the first floor. I was making tea. Your muffled sobs were unmistakable.

I fought with myself - she's in need of help and sympathy - I should just let it go - it's not my business - etcetera, etcetera - but I couldn't help myself. I poured you a cup of tea and stole silently up the narrow stairs and down the little hallway to just outside your door.

Yup - you were crying and it tore at my foolish heart. I stood there hesitating then rapped on your door. The sound inside abruptly stopped - then some sniffs. I knocked again. Your feet shuffled on the floor inside. You opened the door a few inches. 

Soft brown eyes. Tear-streaked soft dark skin. Hair pulled back and disheveled. Night gown. Faint light from a candle inside and pale blue from a sultry moon in your unseen open window behind you.

You are five-foot two - six inches shorter than my own sixty-eight. Our eyes met. It wasn't the first time I'd felt an electricity pass between us. Once before in passing on the stairs on the day you carried your belongings in from your car, then again when you handed me the mail a week later - but that night - I actually saw you shiver. I knew you felt it too - the electricity. You said, "Oh - dids I dishturb you?"

Your speech was slightly slurred. I caught the faint perfume of gin on your breath.

"No, no. No disturbance at all. But I couldn't help but hear you - and be concerned. I brought you tea."

Your lovely eyes filled with tears again and the tears ran down your cheeks. You opened the door all the way and turned back into your room - a little unsurely - a little wobbly. You were tipsy and sad. You sat down on the little love-seat by the fireplace, buried your face in your hands, and began to weep as if the stars would fall.

I stood in the door for a moment or two unsure of what to do but then I crossed the room, placed the tea on the little table by the hearth and sat down next to you at a safe distance and put a hand on your shoulder.

"There, there. What's wrong? Tell me all about it." I figured that ninety percent of what was wrong was your state of inebriation but I also knew that some talk would make it better. I took out my handkerchief and handed it to you. "I'm a good listener. Listening's part of my stock in trade."

You lifted your head and chuckled through your tears, taking the handkerchief. "I shhould hope sso. You'd ssing ssour halllf the time if you ccouldn't heeer."

Your slur was spelling the words wrong but - good - a chuckle - half the battle won, or so I thought; but no - the tears again.

"Now, now. Tell me what's made you so sad tonight. What's made you so sad?"

With my hand on your shoulder I felt your shiver - and I felt a current run up my left arm. I pulled my hand away. You stopped crying.

You looked me steady in the eyes. You wiped your cheeks with your hands. You slurred, "Djaddy, I've ffallen in lufve."

I chalked the "daddy" up to drunkenness, but I confess, I was flattered - having no daughter of my own. "Oh, I see," I said warmly. "And so is your love unrequited?"

"I tthinnk it musht be. There's no chhansce for it."

"You know - there's almost always a chance for love even though it may not work out in the long run. But what boy would be silly enough not to love you in return?"

I was thinking I'd better get you to sleep it off. Things would look better in the daylight.

"I wwent out affter wwork. I tthought I ccould dishtracct myself. Wwith my friensh from shkul. But I drank ttoooo mush."

"Yes." I chuckled. "Yes, I think you must have. Why don't you go to sleep? We can talk later in the morning."

Your eyes teared up a little. "Promish?"

"Promish" I smiled. You smiled faintly.

But then it happened. You leaned in and kissed my mouth.

In retrospect, I could have avoided the kiss. I could have parried. At the time it seemed like it would be insensitive to hold you away; impolite, somehow. But your kiss wasn't a polite one.

It was tender and lingering. I could taste the gin strong on your breath, but on your young lips it was like an exotic night flower. The shock made me respond in like kind. I wasn't thinking. Your tongue firmly slipped against my teeth. Your hand slid around my back. You were kissing me like a woman not like a girl. It was a kiss full of desire and I was sucker-punched.

You wriggled closer to me and I could feel the warm pressure of your unrestrained breasts through my shirt against my chest but you ended the kiss and your head slumped to my shoulder. Your breath went suddenly deep. Your body leaned against me completely. You were sound asleep.

I sat with you like that for a long moment -- or two -- or fifty -- contemplating what had just happened. There was no hope of getting you to bed. I made you as comfortable as possible on the love-seat - a pillow, a light throw. I blew out the candle on the mantle. I took the still-warm teacup from the table.

It was when I turned to close the door, looking at your sleeping form still clutching my handkerchief in the moonlight, I felt the wave of a song begin and I quickly went downstairs to capture it - to play it out and write it down before it could escape me - to try to get the words just right.

That was our first kiss. I thought I'd deal with it later in the day if you even remembered it. And if you didn't - well - it sure had been a sweet thing. Song-worthy. 



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 03



Tea and Forbidden Fruit

It was hot summer that day after the night you kissed me the first time and fell asleep in my arms. I didn't hear a peep from upstairs at all. I wasn't really worried - I knew you needed to sleep it off and to think about whatever your unrequited love problem must be.

I had work to do. Several long business phone calls and reviewing some recordings for friends took up the afternoon. After some supper, I settled down at my piano to work a bit more on the tune from last night. Of course I lost track of time. I always do. So before I knew it was dark outside.

I made myself some tea in my favorite tea pot - the one that had been a gift from a friend in China and returned to the piano just to play. Three or four songs later, I heard a quiet suppressed sneeze from the top of the big staircase that wound from the front of the house around and up - its balustrades overlooking the big old living room.

I stopped playing - "Hello!" I said. No response. "I know you're up there."

You crept slowly into view on the stairs, looking down at me tentatively. "Come down - come down," I said.

You slowly and sheepishly came down and over toward the piano. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. I just wanted to listen - I love to hear you play."

I smiled. I was, of course, flattered. "You're welcome to listen any time - besides - it's nice to have an audience - it'll make me try harder. I'm flattered you like it at all - it's kind of old-fashioned, I guess."

"Oh, no - it's beautiful. They're wonderful songs. I - I - I could listen all day and night."

I was very flattered. "Would you like some tea?"

"Oh - I should go back upstairs. I'm taking your time."

"No - no - don't be silly. Get yourself a cup - one of these from that cabinet there."

You hesitated, but turned and walked to the big old built-in cabinet by the door to the butler's pantry. I watched you walk. You were wearing a light summer dress - really just a shift made out of thin flowered cotton with short sleeves and low neckline. The skirt came to just above your knees. It was cut with just the right flair so that as you walked it flowed slightly around your legs.

It was beautiful on you. As you approached the cabinet, the light of the kitchen hall showed through the dress so I could see the clear silhouette of your legs and waist through the fabric. The natural sway of your hips was riveting.

I couldn't help myself. I knew you were much, much younger than I. I smiled at my reaction. I thought to myself that you'd make some fellow very happy someday - and probably soon - you were so pretty and ripe for the picking. I shook my head and chuckled quietly at my own thoughts, looking down at my hands, splaying my fingers over the keys, ivory and ebony -- like in that silly song. I was lost in thought for a minute.

"I love your hands," I looked up. I hadn't heard you come back. You had said it with a breathless quality to your voice. It made you sound awe-struck. You were standing a few feet away holding the teacup in the dim light of the portrait lights around the walls of the room. The chandelier lights were turned down so low they were barely a twinkle.

I could see the shape of your breasts through the print of your shift. Your nipples were unmistakably erect.

You were holding the tea cup in both hands as if you were afraid it would break just by touching it. It was one of the cups that matched mine.

I said, "Like this, dear," and reached slowly for your hands, drawing you closer - closer. 

Your hands were warm as I softly arranged your right hand so your thumb held the egg-shell thin celadon porcelain at the rim and your fingers held the edge of the base. "This way you won't get burned when I pour."

I cradled your right hand in my left as I lifted the tea pot and poured the green tea into your cup. I could feel you trembling.

We stood there with my hand touching yours for an obviously long moment. I looked up at your face. You were frozen - looking at your hand in mine.

"I should sit," You said. 

"Oh - yes - right here." I pointed to the chair by the right end of the piano keys. "Sit here."

You carefully sat. I noticed you had a ribbon in your black hair. You look a sip of your tea and looked up at me. Our eyes truly met. You were so beautiful - the vision of a young woman in love and I thought whoever you have fallen for is a very lucky boy.

We began to talk. The weather. School. One cup of tea led to another. I made you laugh - I can't remember how - except that when I heard it I thought that any man worth his salt would devote his life to making you happy just so he could hear that laugh, see that smile, watch those eyes lighting up - just for him.

We must have talked for a couple hours. I made us sandwiches. You made us bowls of ice cream. We repaired back to the living room and sat back in our places. "Please play for me," you said.

Every songwriter loves to play -- and I was playing for a dream-audience -- a very pretty girl at that. It was after midnight. I pushed the piano chair back a bit and picked up my guitar. I began to play you the lullabies I'd written years ago for a girl I knew when I was your age. Never recorded - seldom performed - and only for close friends and family in private moments.

But these songs were written by a much younger man - just a boy, really, for exactly this purpose - to gently woo a young lady - a girl... and sing her to sleep. You leaned back in your chair, you closed your eyes. You rested with a faint smile on your lips. 

I played my favorite private songs for you. The ones reserved just for myself or a friend or two and after a couple hours, I was sure you were asleep. I had been singing you song after song because I didn't want the moment to end. I wanted to watch you sleeping.

I stopped and sat silent for five minutes or so - just watching you smile in your sleep - your cares evaporated - for now anyway. But then you said softly, without opening your eyes or moving at all, "Thank you," and then, in a whisper so faint it was like moonlight itself, "I'm in love with you, you know. It's hopeless."

Your smile quivered and a tear ran out of your closed left eye. I impulsively reached over and touched you tenderly where the tear was slowly tracing down your cheek. You whispered, "What can I do?"

You opened your eyes and slowly stood up, turning to go. Facing away from me you said, softly, "Please tell me to stay. Please don't let me go upstairs alone again. Please let me stay."

I was stunned, but I felt a strong wave of compassion and caring and something else I wasn't quite sure of - and I was struggling with this and for words - and you began to take a step away and I said. "Stay." I said it quietly and softly but firmly. I hadn't meant to say it that way - I just did. So it had come out like a gentle command.

Without turning, you said, "Thank you."

Than you turned and moved with an amazing grace - like a slow dance step - over to me, and sat in my lap. You leaned down and kissed me. Tenderly - then urgently, your tongue slipping into my mouth. 

And I kissed you back.

In this moment I had stopped caring that you were just a girl. I had forgotten it entirely. I was full of you and the perfume of your mouth. So I kissed you back for real.

I felt you tremble. I knew with a certainty that you had never been kissed like this before. I took your breath away. I slipped my hands on either side of your waist and held you while I kissed you deeply - the kind of kiss lovers give when they're about to fuck each other's brains out. I knew you needed a kiss like that. Your trembling became shaking.

The kiss ended - you gasped, "My God! My God!" and then in as sultry a voice as your girlish neck could utter you said, "My love is not unrequited - just a forbidden fruit." And you smiled at me with deep mischief and said, "Have an apple, Daddy." And then you kissed me again. And again.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 04



The Physics of Attraction

You took my hand and led me to the marble stairs. You were calm and firm but I could feel you trembling. We climbed slowly side by side. I wasn't thinking clearly. We had kissed long and deep. I could feel you wanted more. I knew you needed more. But I was much older and you -- little more than a girl.

You quietly walked me down the long hall toward my bedroom at the very end -- the door next to the large mirror that reflected us walking together. You watched our reflection -- you a small slender girl holding my hand; you, in your thin shift, me in my khaki trousers and band-collared shirt.

You turned and opened my bedroom door. You led me across the room directly across to my bed -- sure of yourself -- sure of the layout of the room. Standing beside my bed, you lit the candle on the night table and turned away and slowly lifted your shift over your head and off and tossed it to the chair. You were naked.

Your long curly hair was tied back and so it fell down your spine. Your beautiful dark skin looked like mountain forest shadows -- warm and kind. The grace of your neck, the curve of your arm, your waist, your hips; all this was like God intended woman to be. You took my breath away -- a thing that hadn't happened for many, many years -- and I was slain.

You had tossed the dress without looking and yet it landed right across the chair's arm. Still facing away, you spoke shyly, "When you're gone I sleep in your bed. That way I can be in your scent - I can pretend you love me. I'm sorry. I know it was wrong." You slowly turned back toward me.

Your nakedness and honest beauty and unselfconscious vulnerability made me cherish you and want to protect you. You were looking down at your hands folded in front of you.

"When you're gone, I lay in your bed and pretend I am yours. I -- I -- touch myself -- you know -- there -- and I pretend it's you making love to me." You lifted your face and looked into my eyes. I could tell you trusted me implicitly and I silently swore I'd never betray that trust.

Your face, so soft and young, so beautiful, so all full of the beginnings of things; your face struck me then as the kind of face men run to their death or to their ruin to defend.

You whispered, "But tonight I don't want to pretend anymore."

The windows were open - the night air was humid. The crickets and locusts were singing outside.

Yes, you took my breath away. The perfect shape of your breasts, your erect nipples, the recess of your navel, the curves of your defined abdominal muscles -- your waist. Your hips were round, but not large. Your legs were muscular but smooth. You pulled the ribbon from your hair. Your curls fell all around your shoulders and breasts and down your back. 

You reached up and unbuttoned my shirt. You slid your hands across my chest looking at the contrast between your hand and my pale, hairless flesh. 

You began to whisper as if it was a deep confession - "I've wanted this ever since I first met you and now I have it. I think about you all the time. I think about you making love to me. I can barely concentrate at work. I pretend you are taking me hard and rough then tender and strong. At night, I play with myself and think of you. I get so excited. And sometimes, sometimes -- I'm so bad -- I fantasize that you are spanking me and tying me up and all kinds of very naughty things. I pretend you are my daddy and I'm your little girl..."

"Darling, you have a schoolgirl crush. I'm way too old for you. You need a nice young man to make a life with. You'll meet one at school. Give yourself time. It's useless to pretend that I don't want you - I'll make no secret of that. You are beautiful and smart and full of life and youth. But I am older and slower and..."

You kissed my mouth to shut me up.

"I want you to make love to me tonight. I want you for real -- even if it's just this once. Then at least I will have had my dream come true -- for one moment. For now, that will be enough."

You slowly unhitched my belt and unbuttoned my trousers. You slid my shirt off. You slid my pants and underwear off and helped me step out. I could tell you were no expert at all, but you were doing a fine job of improvising.

Then you pulled back the sheets and sat on the edge of my bed. You pulled me to you. My cock hardened and you squirmed against me, your legs parted. You lay your head on my shoulder and stroked my belly, then began very gently stroking my cock.

Protesting was foolish, we were naked together, you were stroking my cock. I was trying to think clearly and failing utterly.

You said, "You know so much. You've seen so much. I want you to teach me about everything. I want you to teach me about love. I want you to take me to the limits of pleasure."

You took my hand and guided it between your slightly parted legs. "Teach me how, Daddy, please." You kissed me again, deeply.

Your pussy lips were soft and full and you shivered as I touched them. I wanted you so badly -- I slipped my finger between your lips and very gently began to play with your clitoris. Your breathing quickened -- "Oh, Oh -- Oh -- so this is what it's like."

I slid my finger just inside your cunnie and stroked, then returned to your clitoris. You were close to coming. Then you cried out, "Oh Daddy! Oh -- Oh! Oh my God!" And you came, shuddering.

"You are so beautiful, darling -- so beautiful." I pushed you to another orgasm. You cried out again.

You slid back off my bed and stood before me.

You kissed my face, my neck, my chest. You kissed me slower and lower. You kissed the head of my hard cock. You began to explore it slowly. Kissing it, nibbling, and, opening your mouth wide, you took it into your mouth. You felt its shape and heat. You could taste it and it excited you so much you were wriggling seductively.

You broke it off and came back to kiss my mouth again, "Was I doing it right?"

"Yes, Sweetie. It was wonderful."

"Daddy, I want you to come in my mouth." You kissed me and said "I want you to -- teach me -- but -- I want you to control me like in my fantasies." 

There was something about this that I found especially erotic. I have always tended to be the somewhat dominant partner in love-making but this was different -- you seemed to be excited by the idea of me actually dominating you. I found it exciting too. I remembered how you had responded when we were downstairs and I told you to stay.

Standing naked together, I pulled you to me and kissed you. I held you close and spoke to you softly as I slid my finger between you pussy lips. "Very well, darling. Shall I tell you how it will be?"

"Yes, Daddy. Yes -- that's what I want."

You were breathing hard -- I was going to keep you just on the edge. I began to stroke you very slowly you were squirming slightly.

"Very well, darling. Here's how it will be. You will call me sir, is that what you want?"

"Yes sir."

"Good girl. You will do just as I say and you will like it." Your pussy suddenly got wetter. "Oh -- you do like the idea don't you, my naughty little girl?"

"Yes, sir, very much. I will do anything you tell me to do. I will like it very much."

"Very well -- so you will need to learn to take my cock all the way in your mouth and down your throat. You will swallow my come. Kneel down now."

You knelt down in front of me. You began to take my cock in your mouth. I put my hands on your head and began working my cock in and out. I was gentle but firm. I worked my cock deeper and deeper.

My cock felt huge to you and my hands were controlling your head so that you were being gently forced to take me. You slid your small hands up the backs of my legs.

"That's it, baby girl -- take it deep. You're going to take it all the way in now. Relax your throat, sweetie. Take me in."

I pushed firmly -- I felt you relax. I was all the way in -- the head of my cock in your throat. I could feel you slightly gagging, but you were working to control it. It was a delicious moment.

"Good girl," I began to take short slow strokes so the head of my cock was thrusting deep into your throat. You were gagging a little and I confess that it aroused me all the more. "Good girl."

You were doing your best not to gag. My cock felt large and hot and you loved it. As I started to stroke harder, my hands on your head controlling the pace, you worked me with you tongue and your lips -- sucking me hard.

It felt good to you to be controlled. It felt naughty and slutty to be enjoying it so much. You could feel my excitement building and my cock had suddenly swollen even bigger.

"I'm going to come," you heard me say, "And you will swallow it all."

My thrusts were hard and deep. Your mouth and throat were being fucked. It felt so good to be giving me pleasure. You were so turned on you could almost come just at the thought.

Then I thrust deep and held me cock deep in your throat. "Swallow now, baby!" My cock was pumping hot liquid right into your throat. You swallowed as I pumped once, twice, three, four, five times. I was groaning -- saying, "Yes -- oh yes."

My grip loosened and you instinctively sucked and stroked me. You swallowed every last drop. You liked its taste. You liked how it made me feel -- how I shuddered as I came. How I shivered as you continued to suck me.

"Did I do it right, Daddy?" you asked.

"Yes, darling, it was wonderful."

You stood up and took my hand. You lead me to the bed and lay down with me. With me lying on my back, you began to suck me again. You loved the feeling on making me get rock hard all over again. This time you took my cock down your throat on your own volition.

You could feel me stroking your hair as you sucked me. "Good girl. Good girl."

It took time, but you were tenacious. I came again. You swallowed every drop. We fell asleep briefly with your head on my abdomen and my fingers in your hair. As you drifted off to sleep, you were thinking how you loved my salty taste and that you would get me again in the morning. 

Then you said sleepily, "Daddy?"

"Yes, my little love."

"I lied -- one night isn't going to be enough. I want you -- forever -- forever and ever."

"We can talk tomorrow."

You slid up and looked me in the eyes with such grave earnestness that it made me smile. "No, Daddy. I will talk and you will listen to me now. I will never give you up. I won't give you up to anything or anyone and not even to time itself. I will have you forever."

I was smiling. You shook me. "I'm not funny. I will make you love me." You pounded my chest with your fist. You were near tears.

"No -- no, darling -- you're not funny at all. Also, no one can make anyone love them. But you misunderstand. Darling, you don't have to try. You don't have to do anything but breathe. This crusty old heart has melted. It may be that you are in love for the first time, but tonight I have fallen in love for the last time. What to do about it? I don't know."

"Daddy, what does one do about a fact? What does one do about gravity?"

I gathered you to my body; my little physics student. I held you strong until you slept.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 05



True Beginning

But now, it's the autumn. I'm back home from my trip. I met you on the street on your way home from class. I played with you against the hall mirror. We had supper together and talked and laughed and kissed over desert. 

You are on top of me. I am on my back. There's a fire in the bedroom fireplace. We are in my bed - the old high curtained four-poster.

You are panting. You are lovely. My finger is gently stroking your clitoris as you straddle me.

The flame's glow reveals your dark ravishing beauty swaying slightly above me. Droplets of sweat sparkle on your skin. We've been playing together for a couple hours.

Your slick pussy is slowly devouring my hard cock, the head of which is an inch or so inside you - stretching you open as you push down. 

You instinctively opened your mouth as you began to take me in - feeling the stretch and the heat - feeling the head of my cock slip inside you. So big. 

You are warm and glowy from having come so much already. You are hot and ready and incendiary from my tongue having made you cry out time and time again. I sucked your clitoris mercilessly. You screamed in pleasure. I bit your clitoris. You screamed louder as you came. And now you are gasping, "Oh God, Daddy, Oh God."

The moment has arrived. You will give me your cherry. You will take my throbbing priapus deep into your hot body.

My finger knows its business. It urges you more strongly. You have been instructed to wait until you are ready to come. You will thrust downward as you orgasm. You are almost there. But you have to ask permission to come.

You are shaking. I know you're almost there.

"Now, Daddy. Now, Daddy."

"No, Darling - not yet. You may not come yet."

"Oh God. Oh God." You are almost shrieking. "Please, please, Daddy, please. - - Please."

"Not yet." I take a commanding tone. "You will wait until I say you can come. You must wait. You are mine and you will wait." You don't really know it, but I am training you. We talked about it. It's what you want. It will take time, but I will train you and you will be glad to be trained. 

"Yes. Yes. Oh God." Now you ¬are shrieking. "Please, please - - Please."

"Good girl. Now. Now, little girl. Come now. Push down hard. And come for me."

And I feel you shaking as you push down hard and your flesh yields and you scream again in pleasure and a little pain. You squirm and writhe on my cock as I continue to push your clitoris quick to another orgasm. You scream once more and arch your back. 

You are incredibly tight around my cock. I let you drift down to me slowly - slowly lying down against my chest panting, panting and purring like a kitten, "Oh, Daddy - Oh my wonderful Daddy. I am completely yours now. I am yours. My Daddy. My love." 

You are feeling the new sensation of being filled - of being stretched. You feel your legs spread wide open. You feel your breasts pressed hard against me under your own weight. You feel your pussy lips open wide around the base of my rock hard cock.

My cock feels large. It's deep inside you. You are slowly squirming on it. You are tender. I am pulsing inside you. You are very wet. And I'm not done with you. But I will be patient.

I roll you over without breaking our union. Now I'm on top. It's time to take you - but gently now - so gently I begin to fuck you.

"Oh - Oh my!" It's your first time. You feel my cock slowly sliding in and out. Long, slow strokes. It's so new.

The slight ache is blended with this new pleasure - and the pleasure and instinct takes over. You begin to match my movements. You begin to pant again. "Oh - oh my! Oh, Daddy!"

Soon I am riding you. You hold me like a tight velvet glove. And you are almost there. Almost there.

I take your hands in mine, pressing them down hard into the bed with my weight, our fingers entwined. You can feel my heat and my thrusts driving you onward. You can feel my desire. I'm holding you tight. I'm holding you open - your hands on either side of your head. It feels so good to be held so tightly. It feels so good to be wanted so badly. You feel my weight pressing you into the thick sheets. Your heart is near exploding. You are in love - hopelessly now - and you know it.

I am the man to whom you've given your virginity. I'm the man who holds your heart in his hands and you know my hands will never hurt you. You are vulnerable but safe and at the same time you know that you possess me too. You know I need you now. It's too late for both of us - we are in love. 

Another thing dawns on you - a flicker of certainty - even now as you're submersed in the moment of mutual conquest - you are my submissive. You are my submissive. It's so sweet to be mine. You know you will always submit to me. You feel it is in your very nature. 

All of this combines into a feeling of delicious wantonness. You surrender to my complete possession of you. You surrender to the dawn of womanhood. You surrender to my hard, hot, naked cock. You surrender to the deep, indelible love that has now taken your heart by storm. And I feel your surrender. 

You are mine. I know it. I know I will always remember this moment. It is the beginning.

I gasp - "I'm going to come in you, my darling little girl - I'm going to come."

You shudder. "Oh - - Oh! I'm coming! Daddy, I'm coming again."

I feel your pussy fluttering around my cock. I feel the thrill run up my legs, through my arms - and the delightful squeeze. I look down at your face - I command - "Look at me. Look right in my eyes."

You obey. You look deep into me. You begin to come. I look deep into you. I begin to pump my seed into your sweet, sweet, sweaty body. I shout. "My Darling! My Baby girl." You scream to meet my voice. "Daddy! Daddy!" Eyes locked.

We float together there for an eternity. You feel my cock pumping. You feel the new hot liquid inside you. You feel me collapse on top of you. Your flesh is still on fire. Your soul is embracing mine. You wrap your arms around me. You wrap your legs around me.

"Mine!" you purr again "All mine. My Daddy. My Daddy. I love you. My very own."

We begin to laugh. Out of sheer delight. We laugh - still joined - and as we quiet down; as we begin to kiss again, as you begin to fuck me again, I think briefly how I will save the blood-stained sheets - I will save them for always.

Then I'm swimming in your passion again. You want more. You'll fuck me 'till dawn and back.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 06



That Naughty Thing

You are watching me sleep. It's a dim, rainy Thursday autumn morning. You don't have class today.

You are different this day. Oh - you're the same person you were yesterday. You're the same girl that arrived at the door of this big old house last spring. But you're different and you're contemplating it now, this Thursday morning after you took me so completely last night - all night.

Today you're no longer a virgin. Today you belong to somebody more deeply that you ever imagined possible. You belong to the man sleeping in bed with you now and his seed swims within you - you know it - you ache with it - you can smell it - you are sore from your taking it and very, very content.

You think about how there will be many moments like this one - and you smile. You reach up carefully and brush a lock of blond hair off my face. You marvel at the paleness of my skin. You are struck at the contrast between your summer colored small hand and my brow. Who would ever have guessed you'd find yourself here, now, like this. You smile again.

You inhale deeply and slowly. The air is ripe with our love-making. You can smell a hint of the wood embers still snapping and hissing in the grate. A crow is chatting it up with his pals outside the west window and over the hill. You hear my quiet, even breathing. You feel the warmth of the layers - the sheets and blankets and the feather comforter. You feel the caress of my breath on the hand you're still holding by my face.

You slowly and carefully inch toward me sliding your arm over my torso and pressing against me under the covers. You think I'm asleep -- you whisper "What's to become of me, Daddy? What will I be when I grow up?"

I wrap my arms around your and hold you close. I kiss your mouth very gently.

"You will be strong and beautiful. You will be anything you want to be because you will work hard for it. You will meet life straight on with your head high and proud. You will be wise." 

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, darling."

"I'm going to make us breakfast after I shower. Sleep for a while more, Daddy. Then, after another nap, I want that naughty thing we talked about."

"Yes, Darling. It will be my pleasure."

---------------

"Oh -- oh -- my God -- Oh, Daddy" You are trembling. My hand is on your back. I'm pressing you down.

"Oh -- Oh yesss" You are bent over a large bolster so your bottom is high in the air -- your legs are spread wide.

"Oh -- Oh Daddy -- Oh I love you, Daddy." My hand is between your legs from behind, my finger is stroking your clitoris.

"I love you too, my little girl. So much." I tell you. You can hear the warmth in my voice. You can tell I love you. You can feel it.

My finger strokes you expertly -- keeping you just on the edge... almost there... almost there.

"Daddy -- I'm ready now."

"Are you sure, darling?"

"Yes, Daddy. I'm sure."

I take my hand away. You know what's coming, but it surprises you anyway when it comes. Whack! Hard on your bottom -- the paddle just as expertly wielded as my teasing your clitoris.

"Aaaah!" You say loudly. "God, Daddy -- yesss."

Whack!

"Ahhhhhh!" Louder now. A glowing heat is beginning in your bottom and legs.

Whack!

"Ohhh -- Oh God!" And the heat is spreading to your pussy -- it's beginning to throb.

Whack!

"Ohhhhh -- Ohhhh -- Oh yesss!" You are ready now -- I know it -- it's time to push you over the edge.

Whack!

"Ohhh --"

Whack!

"Ohhhh!"

Whack! Whack!

"Ohhhhhh! Pleeeasse!"

Whack! Whack!

"Ohhhhh -- Myyyy -- Goddd!" You are beginning to scream.

Whack! Whack! Whack!

"Daddy! I'mmm comminngg!" You are shrieking. And gasping.

Whack! Whack! You are writhing and screaming and coming harder than you've ever come. With every paddle, your pussy thrills with a wild fire and it's making you explode -- you are coming so hard.

Whack! Whack! But I'm not done with you. You're almost there...

Whack! Whack!

Then you let go --out of control -- over the edge. Screaming, crying, coming so very hard.

That's where I want you. And it's where you want to be.

I reach back down between your legs and stroke you. You are on fire. You are soaking wet. You scream and come again.

"Daddy!"

I bring my cock to the opening of your cunnie. I thrust into you easily. I will fuck you now -- my beautiful little submissive.

You squirm and scream as I fuck you. Delicious.

"Oh God, Daddy -- I love you." You scream loudly.

"I love you too, little girl." I pump my seed into your willing body. "You are mine, baby girl."

"Yes, Daddy. For always and always."



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 07



We Dance

You are warm and sleepy and content. You are lying on your side facing me, your nose tucked under my jaw in my big old canopy bed in my big old bedroom in this big old Victorian house on the hill. You can feel my rib cage slowly expanding and contracting against you – I'm dozing. You smile and nuzzle my neck. I stir and kiss your forehead. The feather comforter and blankets weigh perfectly – the linen sheets embrace your naked legs.

You can smell our commingled sweat and the ripe fragrance of our love-making. You can still taste the flavor of my mouth and your own juices from my lips – and of my cock – musky, salty, clean. My white cotton shirt is unbuttoned but still over my shoulders. Your adorable white cotton dress is disheveled and pulled up around your waist. My arm is draped over your waist and, our fingers are still woven together, your arm is bent behind you. Your pussy is wet and leaking the result of the three times I pumped my seed into your recently opened cunnie. Your inner legs are sticky. It's marvelous.

You can feel the red velvet ribbons around your wrists. They are tying us together – your left wrist and my right – your right wrist and my left. You nuzzle me again smile and whisper "I love you." I squeeze your left hand gently. "I love you too, darling."

It was a cool November day and you couldn't help but be excited on your way home from physics class this late afternoon. In your Icelandic sweater and blue jeans and with your laptop and books in your backpack, you hurried across from the campus and up the hill where my house stands. You shuffled through the leaves and laughed at the squirrels gathering chestnuts. You skipped through the gate and around to the back door where you let yourself in. You ran up the back stairs to your room in what was once the servants' quarters.

Friday night. We had a date planned although you didn't know the particulars. You did know that we had agreed on special clothes for both of us and yours were laid out on your bed: white lace panties and a white lace bra – a beautiful simple white dress that had buttons from the waist-band to the neck. You stripped off your school-clothes, showered, and put on your panties and bra. Then you sat at your dressing table in front of the mirror taking your time – the slightest bit of makeup – subtle lipstick. You wanted to look natural tonight.

You brushed out your dark, curly long hair. You coaxed it into ringlets at your ears. You smiled at yourself in the mirror. A ravishing young beauty smiled back at you. Her dark skin and soft chocolate brown eyes twinkled. The white filigree of her bra lay in alluring contrast against her skin. Her nipples were erect.

You opened your mouth – the beauty opened her mouth – and you wondered at the transformation from girl to young woman. You thought maybe it was just your state of mind – but maybe, too, it was a new skin you occupied – no longer a virgin – having given your girlhood to me – having taken my cock into your pussy for the first time seven nights ago.

You slipped the dress over your head and fastened the buttons almost all the way, but left your neck exposed. You ran out your door barefoot, around the corner into the main house, down the long hall with its dozen heavy doors and stopped before the large mirror at the end.

You saw yourself again full length and framed by the hallway behind you with its fifteen foot ceiling; doors eight feel high, huge gold framed portraits on its walls. You mused about who those people could be – my relatives, perhaps, from long ago.

In the dimming early evening light you saw your lovely white dress extending just below your knees. You saw yourself differently now. You saw yourself as beautiful. You felt strangely at home in this big house on the hill. You had a strange thought – that you wanted a portrait of you to be hung in the hall or maybe in my bedroom or maybe over the mantle in the great living room so your image could keep me company when you're in class and look down over my shoulder when I work at my piano.

Then it occurred to you that perhaps a girl would be looking at your portrait a hundred years from now. You smiled. Yes – it would be so.

You turned and slowly opened the door to my bedroom. It was candle-lit. A fire was burning on the grate. I was standing in front of my mirror tying my bow-tie. I turned and smiled and held out my arms. You smiled and laughed and took two running steps toward me. But stopping, you turned around slowly to show me your dress then came to my arms.

I gathered your small body to me and took your breath away with my kiss. I wanted you weak in the knees. You wobbled a bit. I knew I'd had the desired effect.

I grabbed your hand and led you out of my room just around the corner, through a door that opened from the paneling – down narrow stairs like a secret passage – and out into the hallway downstairs. Then we passed through another tall, heavy door. Here was a large room also candle-lit with the fireplace burning, but on the three outside walls all around, except for where the fireplace stood in the center, were huge windows above French doors. And the room was empty except for a few high-backed easy chairs and a piano that seemed small in the context of the room's unusual scale.

You looked about as we crossed to the small table next to the fireplace. The room was at least sixty feet long and forty feet wide. The ceilings were twenty feet high with two immense chandeliers, and, as you turned back to look where we'd walked in, you could see that the interior wall had floor to ceiling mirrors all along it – with a dance bar. Near the mirrored wall was one wooden straight-backed chair.

You were marveling at the sight – and at our reflection – and you watched me picking up a long band of red velvet ribbon from where it was draped over the chair. You watched my reflection as I came behind you and, lifting your right arm, I slowly and ritualistically, wrapped your wrist with the ribbon and tied a knot such that your wrist was not restricted, but inexorably bound.

You began to tremble.

Mesmerized by the sight in the mirror, you continued to hold your right arm out, the long ribbon dangling from you wrist, like blood pouring out. You shuddered, what a thought. But you watched as I gathered another ribbon and lifted your left arm to give it the same treatment. Then, with your arms outstretched, I stood behind you and put my hands around your small waist.

You gazed at my pale skin, my hazel eyes, my fingers holding your waist firmly. And I bent over and kissed your right shoulder, my blonde hair falling by your ear.

I could feel you trembling. I purred, "I love you, my beauty. My beautiful little girl."

You turned and threw your arms around my shoulders – standing on tip-toes while your tongue slipped into my mouth. I returned your long kiss – minutes long, tender, deep – then probing, becoming urgent – I could feel your excitement rising.

We broke the kiss – you stood before me. "You are always beautiful, little girl, but tonight you are radiant."

"I'm in love, Daddy"

"A lucky man."

You smile. "A very lucky girl."

"Tonight, darling, I thought we'd dance a bit." I said and crossed to the table, opening the box sitting there and lifting an old vinyl record from its sleeve. 

"But I don't know how to dance – I mean – not old-fashioned ways – just the kind we dance at school."

I smile. I think I must seam ancient to you sometimes. I put the needle on the record. A Strauss waltz started. "That's OK – it's easy and fun and I'm going to teach you – but with a twist." I smiled at you wickedly.

You giggled. "Bad, bad Daddy."

"Yes, and no, darling. Hopeless romantic 'Daddy,' I think."

Facing you, I lifted your right arm and slowly tied the red ribbon around my left wrist. Then I tied your left wrist to my right – having to drag your hands with me to accomplish the deed. I smiled. "Tethered, my dear – now – like this."

I placed my hand on your waist – your hand came with me. I held your other hand out and slowly I began to move you. You caught right on. And soon we were waltzing and spinning through the room. Song after song, then the other side of the record too. Then another record. We had to cooperate to change the record and the effort made us laugh and you carried on. Making me hit myself in the face and causing me to drop the record (which I explained were delicate – not like CDs). You dragged me all over the room. You made me laugh from the bottom of my soul – laughter like I hadn't made for years – not since – not since...

"Daddy, what's wrong?"

I had stopped. I was lost in the memory. You lifted your hand to my cheek. "Daddy, where did you go?"

I looked into your bright, dark eyes pulling me back from the precipice. "Nowhere, darling, nowhere at all. Just the old ghosts of long ago."

"Daddy, you always seem so sad. Even when you smile. It's like you're far away much of the time." You were stroking my cheek (which meant that my own hand came along). "Someday you'll tell me about the ghosts. I think it'll take the power away from them. But not tonight. Tonight is for laughter and love, Daddy." And you made me smack my own face with my hand again. And you laughed so hard you could barely stand. And I laughed along again, temporarily freed of care.

Twisting you around so your arms crossed in front of you and your back was against me, I slowly walked you over to the wooden chair. We stood before the mirror, in front of the chair and I began to slowly pull the skirt of your dress up. More and more of your legs were slowly exposed. Slender, strong – and you lace panties came into view. You watched intently. I could feel you tremble.

"Look how beautiful you are, darling." I hooked my fingers into your panties' waistband and began to draw them down your legs, making you crouch as they came off you feet one by one.

I sat on the chair slowly pulling you onto my lap facing the mirror. I lifted your skirt again and gently but firmly pushed your legs open.

You could see the lips of your pussy slightly parted. You could see a bit of glistening moisture between them. "Now, darling, hold your hand out of the way so you can watch. I want you to see how beautiful you are."

"I never looked, Daddy. It's – it's exciting."

"Spread wider, darling – open wide."

You spread your legs wide. Your reflection looked wanton. My right middle finger was stroking your clitoris. My left hand was spreading open you lips. Your breath was coming harder and harder. You leaned back against me and squirmed and I bent my head down and nibbled on your neck. My teeth seemed sharp and I bit you. You squealed and came, watching your pussy flood – but I kept on stroking you – teasing you – lifting you to another – and another.

You shamelessly moved against my hands. You used your own fingers to heighten your pleasure. It was so novel to watch. It was so naughty. And you could see me bent over your neck, biting you, sucking your flesh – biting hard as you came each time.

You finally came down to earth.

I stood you up. I turned you around again, facing me.

"I love you Daddy – so much. Please, take me to bed now."

We walked still facing each other through the door, still tethered at our wrists. We made our way, giggling, back through the passage and up the narrow stairs – back into my bedchamber. A small meal was ready – cheeses and tea – bread and a bloody-rare roast of meat. Venison, I told you when you asked.

We sat before the fire. We fed each other. We laughed and you told me about your day at school. We kissed often, and I pushed half-chewed meat from my lips into your mouth – "My little bird," I said.

"Oh, Daddy – you're so romantic," swallowing my feedings – over and over. You began to breathe heavily.

"My darling will need her strength." My hand fell to between your legs. I found your clitoris. You came hard and fast. "Another bite, darling." Eating the meat I'd chewed for you was exciting you beyond reason. You swallowed. I made you come again. 

You kissed me deep and long and stood up and reached down to unbuckle my belt. I stood and my trousers fell to the floor. You undid my tie. You unbuttoned my shirt. Then your buttons. We took off you bra by actually undoing the straps. Then – something you hadn't foreseen – "Daddy – I have to pee."

"I'll have to come along, little girl."

"Wicked Daddy!" You laughed and we awkwardly made our way to the bathroom. Using the same trick, we turned so, this time, you were behind me... and you took great amusement holding my cock and aiming my stream into the toilet. Then we untwisted ourselves and you sat down – me facing you and, blushing so your skin turned a redder shade of light chocolate, you peed, staring into my eyes the whole time. 

When you finished, you kept looking into my eyes. I held you there – just like that as minutes passed and you finally slowly leaned to me and kissed me so tenderly I thought my heart would explode.

We reached for the paper. You wiped. I stroked you again until you came, you, gently biting my lip and trembling.

We didn't speak – we went to bed still tied together. You eagerly spread your legs and took me in. I bit your neck again and you screamed as you came as if a freight train had thundered through you small body. I filled you with my come over and over – three times – and we fell asleep just that way. With your nose tucked under my jaw, your dress all pulled up around your waist, my shirt undone.

Now, you nuzzle me again.

I stir.

I feel you tremble and you begin to weep.

"What's the matter, darling."

"Daddy – don't ever leave me."

"No – no"

"Every day I will sit in the chair by your piano while you work. I'll do my homework while you write."

"Yes, darling."

"I want you to get a portrait made of me. I want it to hang in the hall with the rest – or over the mantle in the great room."

"Of course, darling."

"I want babies – six or so."

I hesitated - "Grad school first."

"Whatever. I will knit. They will play at your feet."

I paused - "Yes, dear"

"Don't you 'yes dear' me. I will have these things." You sob suddenly - violently. "They are my dreams, Daddy. This is my place now – here in your life."

"Yes, my little girl." Now I understand... you are claiming me in an instinctual way. You want to manifest your feelings – it is the natural uprising of your love. I take a deep breath and hold you tenderly. I stroke your curly hair. 

You are calmer now. "And I and the children will defy your mean old ghosts. And you will never leave. And you will never be lonely any more."

I am aware that leaving you is inevitable. I'm thirty three years older than you. Even assuming that you stick around longer than a year or two, even assuming that you stay until I am in my dotage, then I will necessarily leave you – you will watch my final bow. The curtains will close. The house will clear.

But your tender youth has touched me deeply. I remember that kind of optimism. I remember living under the assumption that every day was new – that all things are possible. The memory is like a little candle being lit again in my heart. 

"I will have these things, Daddy."

"Yes, darling, yes. If you wish it."

It was my turn to cry – silently



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 08



The Chair

When you came home from physics class today, you were already excited. You can't help yourself on Friday afternoons - you know that you'll play with me all weekend and you know that his weekend is another step in your training. 

You came in the back door and up the stairs to your room. You put away your books. You took off your clothes and put on the white bustier we bought together for these special days. Even as you changed your clothes you were getting wet. You slipped on the white silk stockings and garter belt. You made yourself up. You put on your kimono and headed downstairs, around the corner by the back kitchen door.

You unlocked the heavy door to the basement and went down into the cool dimness of the stone walled rooms under the house. We are beginning to prepare a couple of those rooms together. We are making those rooms especially for you - to excite you and thrill you. Rooms where you will receive the particular pleasure you want so badly. The pleasure of being my submissive.

You walked to the deep recesses of the basement - around the big old furnace to another heavy wooden door which you unlocked. You closed the door behind you as you stepped inside.

Now you are standing in one of the special rooms - two walls are stone - the ones that are the outer foundation of the house. In one of the stone walls there is a window that opens into a brick well. The window is high on the wall. The top of the well has a steel grate. The other two walls are brick. There is a large mirror against the wall. And another on wheels.

There is an old chaise lounge facing into the room a few feet from one of the brick walls. There is a thick, soft rug on the floor in front of it. There is a wooden chair in sitting in a shallow, wide steel pan on the cement floor in front of the rug and facing the chaise. And beside the chair is an old floor lamp.

You have not seen the chair before but you have been instructed about it.

You hang your kimono on the peg by the door. You make yourself comfortable on the chaise and soon, I am at the door with two bottles of champagne and a glass, and a tall glass of water.

I sit next to you. You move to hug me but my look stops you. I smile and open one of the champagne bottles and pour you a full glass. "Have some champagne, darling, tell me what you think of this brand." 

You sip. "Oh, it's delicious." 

"Good."

The next time you put the glass to your lips, I reach over and gently push the base of the glass upward so the wine runs into your mouth quickly and you have to gulp it down. You giggle.

You can tell I'm glad to see you. I'm smiling at you.

"You'll have another glass, sweetie." As I pour you another - and again I tip it up so you have to gulp it down you are beginning to giggle more. We are laughing together and holding hands. We talk about your day. When you lean in to kiss me I smile and put my finger to your lips. "Not yet, my love. Later, I promise." 

I pour you another glass and you gulp it down. And then another. Good.

"Now this glass of water, dear." It's a big glass. More than sixteen ounces.

"Good girl. Now - you will try the chair. You will like it."

You giggle. You are curious and eager. You cross the floor to the chair. Its seat is steel and shaped oddly with ridges and slots in peculiar places. Toward the back of the seat, there is an opening in it about six inches in diameter. The surface of much of the seat is shiny, but right down the middle, from the front to the back, it looks slightly frosted.

You sit down slowly and carefully. As instructed, you sit so the balls of your feet are on the outside of the front legs of the chair. The legs of the chair sit inside the shallow pan on the floor. It feels cold against your feet.

I am watching you and smiling.

The only place you can sit without discomfort is with your tail pushed against the very back of the seat because there is a ridge at the front edge of the seat that hurts the underside of your legs unless you spread them to avoid it. Spreading your legs, you are forced to lean slightly forward. I can see you think this is interesting.

The seat has dimples that rise up exactly where your weight is sitting - under your buttocks on either side. These dimples make your bottom mildly uncomfortable and you shift to try to find a comfortable spot. You can feel that the opening is right under your back-side.

But you are very aware of the high ridge that goes from the front edge of the seat extending backward to that opening - a ridge that is tapered just right and pushing between your pussy lips. It is alarmingly high. You can tell that if you were to lean even a little further forward, it would completely part your lips.

I am watching you discover your predicament.

I say "Good Girl." You beam at me, mischievously.

You notice that I'm holding three lengths of soft, red fabric in my hand. I cross to you and, taking time to caress each leg, I pull each foot back and tie each ankle to the back leg of the chair.

This shifts your weight forward and that ridge is now pressing hard between your lips. You become aware that the surface of the chair, where it seemed to be frosted, is very slightly rough. 

You are alarmed, but you smile, albeit uncertainly, and I say, "Good Girl."

I pull your arms behind you gently. My gentleness is reassuring but I wrap the fabric tight so that your elbows are pulled together and your arms are bound down to your wrists. Your wrists together, I tie them to the base of the back of the seat. This thrusts your chest out and, because of the bustier, it lifts your breasts very high. 

Again, you are surprised, but I stroke your cheek to calm you. 

"You are beautiful, darling. Want to see?" I ask, but you know the question is rhetorical. You are trying to get comfortable as I wheel the mirror over in front of you - between you and the chaise. Now you can see yourself.

You are a very erotic sight. Sitting in the chair with your legs spread open, leaning slightly forward with your arms tied back and your breasts thrust out and up. Your lips are bright red. You are ravishing. The mirror is two-way and so you can see the ghost of the chaise behind it, but the light from the window favors your side. 

I step in back of the mirror and pour another glass of the champagne - the last of the bottle. I bring it to you and hold it to your lips. I feed you the champagne. I stroke your cheek and say, "Good Girl. You are my darling. I will take very good care of you always."

"Yes, Daddy." and you smile at me. 

I take one of the candles from the shelf. light it, and put it on the floor beside you.

I kiss your forehead.

I turn and leave. The door closes behind me. It surprises you again.

You are alone in the room. 

The only sound in the room is the ticking of the clock. But you can't see its face. 

Minutes go by. Five. Ten. Fifteen.

At first, the chair is not so uncomfortable at all, but your bindings have placed you off balance forward and it requires some effort to sit. If you lean forward, the ridge pushes hard between your lips - in fact, it pushes hard on your clitoris. But as the steel warms and you relax, that ridge is becoming your friend. As you get used to your weight bearing down on the ridge, it has parted you pussy lips wide and it is pressing firmly on your clitoris.

The inner lips are parted too. You are very, very wet.

The seat is hard and the dimples under your buttocks cause increased pressure there just at those sensitive points under each side of you - so you begin adjust yourself to a position of least discomfort by shifting your weight from side to side. But as you do this, the ridge, having worked its way deep between your pussy lips, opening them entirely, is rubbing naughtily across your swelling clitoris.

The champagne is working its magic. You blood is beginning to ignite. You look at yourself in the mirror and you look so sexy.

The clock is ticking, the light in the window is fading. Has it been a half hour?

You are feeling deliciously tipsy. Your butt is uncomfortable, but your rocking has excited you and you are enjoying the ridge rubbing back and forth on your clitoris. The surface of the seat just there along the ridge is the slightest bit rough. You were aware of it from the first. But now it's beginning to feel like a kitten's tongue rubbing you very slightly. 

You're squirming harder to increase your pleasure but you are getting tired and you are leaning slightly more forward which increases the pressure more and it's just a little much - but it increases you excitement. 

Yet - there's another problem now - you are growing aware that you'll need to pee soon. It's not a big problem - yet - and you are enjoying the ridge very much. You are watching yourself. Your wetness has made your entire underside moist.

You want to to orgasm - it's just not quite right yet - there's either too much pressure or not quite the right kind of rub. And you definitely have to pee.

You are breathing heavily. You are squirming and trying to come. Is it an hour now?

The minutes grow longer as you rock on the chair. Your pussy lips are wide open. The ridge is stimulating you maddeningly and the roughness is making you a little sore.

You have to pee desperately.

You are whimpering and moaning. 

I am at the door.

I come into the room.

You are squirming voluptuously. 

"Daddy, I have to pee."

I am wearing my bathrobe.

I smile and say, "Yes, dear, I'm sure you do. My darling, you are lovely."

"Yes, Daddy but... but."

You are looking up at me imploringly. I am standing right in front of you gently stroking you face and hair.

No matter how you move, you are uncomfortable - the only relief is to squirm and that stimulates you. You can't seem to come and you are very close to wetting yourself.

"You're my very good girl, darling. My good little submissive," I say. I say it over and over as you squirm and I stroke your hair gently. My voice is soothing and encouraging, but you have become desperate. You are moaning and squealing. You are so close to coming, but you can't seem to come. Your butt is sore and now feels bruised from the dimples. Your flesh inside your pussy lips and at the opening of your cunny and you clitoris feels raw. Every squirm hurts, but you can't help yourself - you must move. 

You are desperate to pee.

In a desperate bid for relief, you lean forward slightly more, you finally catch the ridge perfectly on your clitoris. You are riding it now and you are going to come.

Then you come. You come hard and involuntarily. And as you come, you can't hold your pee any longer. You scream with pleasure and frustration - you are peeing hard as you come. And as you pee and you feel the hot liquid running between your legs back to the opening in the seat. You hear it dripping into the pan under the chair, running through the hole in the seat.

You involuntarily bear down to release your bladder completely. I am still stroking your head and saying, "That's a good girl. That's my good little girl. Let it all go, darling. That's my beautiful submissive."

You look up at me smiling kindly at you. You feel reassured and warm. You are still wriggling on the chair.

Now you understand the chair's devious purpose. You thrill as you realize that you were made to submit. You were made to orgasm and pee in front of me. You have been made a submissive, but on a new level - it was voluntary - it was what you wanted - and yet not voluntary because you truly gave up control.

You are sore but extremely excited.

You look up at me - into my eyes. It feels so good to be my submissive.

"Come again, Darling," I say. And you squirm and squeal and scream as you come - very sore - the pee still wet beneath you - still dripping into the pan.

"Oh my God, Daddy. I love you so much." You are squirming and rocking.

"I love you too, my darling little girl. Come for me again."

You squeal with pleasure. You are so sore. But now you're not thinking of stopping.

"Daddy - I have to pee again."

"That's OK, sweetie."

"Oh - Oh - Oh, Daddy!"

You release. You squeal again as it burns your chafed tender flesh. You hear the liquid dripping into the pan. It feels so wicked. I reach down as slip my hands inside the top of your bustier and lift your breasts out. I play with and pinch your nipples hard.

Then, as I stoke your face gently again and call you my good little girl, you only want to come over again for me. And you do.

Over and over.

I smile. I am very pleased.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 09



Drinking Me In

You are sitting on my lap. I am feeding you. We bathed together and I combed out your hair. You put on one of your new nightgowns and a robe. We are in my bedroom. There's a fire in the fireplace. 

You have had some more champagne and an asprin to take the edge off the inevitable consequence of your adventure of the chair. We are talking and laughing together. My arm is around your waist holding you tenderly.

You open your mouth as I feed you another slice of the pear I've cut into pieces for you. I take a slice of dry-cured ham into my mouth and chew for a few seconds. You lean down and kiss me and I slip the ham into your mouth. You take it eagerly – again, like a baby bird - it is so romantic. There is no mistaking how I love you.

You can feel my hard cock under you. It seems as if you've been in a constant state of arousal for hours.

You try to account for the time. You came home from school around four. We spent an hour or so talking and flirting and you drinking champagne before you became acquainted with the chair.

You remember the sunlight fading from the cellar window. You remember sitting and rocking for what seemed like forever with increasing intensity. The fresh memory causes a flood of wetness from your pussy.

At the end, I stood stroking your hair while you came over and over - but it's a bit of a blur. It was maddening. You had to really work to come - and you were so aroused, you were desperate for orgasm. You remember peeing and how strange it was to lose control of that fundamental function. You remember the sound of your pee dripping into the pan and my gentle voice telling you what a good girl you are.

It occurs to you that I had planned it all this way. You realize again, that I was very much in control at these times and that you were becoming more and more deeply my submissive. It occurs to you that this is partly what I have meant by "training."

Even that word - training - is potent with my domination and your submission. You realize that I am training you - just as you said you wanted. But the reality is different than your idea of it - it is much more - well - real.

You remember that at one time as you peed, I had called you my pet.  

"You are my darling pet," I had said. And "My beautiful filly." Odddly - or not so oddly at all - the thought makes you feel cherished now. 

You slide your hands under my robe and begin to kiss me deeply. You buttocks feel bruised from the chair and in your excitement, you squirm slightly on my lap. But I can tell you are being careful - you are very sore. 

You end the kiss and I stroke you face gently - I say, "Good girl. I love you so much, sweetie."

"I love you too, Daddy."

Our bath had been long and luxurious. Deep kisses. Perfumed water. Candlelight. You had lain in my arms - back against my chest. I had washed you slowly. I knew it was important to show you how much I cared about you so you would know you were always safe. I wanted you to be rewarded for your submission. 

I had used a washcloth to gently wash your neck, breasts, and back. I had gently washed your legs and I had very slowly and very gently washed your pussy lips. I gently pushed the fabric of the cloth between your lips and you spread your legs wide to avoid the pressure.

The cloth felt rough against your inflamed pussy lips and clitoris but it was a thrill. I played with your nipples and kissed your mouth. I made you come while you kissed me -your shuddering splashing the water. 

After our bath, I had toweled you off lovingly.

Now it's after two in the morning. I feed you another slice of pear.

You rise slightly and open my robe exposing my erect cock. You gather up your robe and nightgown and straddle me. You take my cock in your hand and hold it up as you lower yourself to it. You are very wet.

You part your lips with the head of my cock and as it brings you pleasure, it also hurts sharply. You gasp but I place my hands on your waist to hold you tightly and pull you down.

The head of my cock slips into your very tight passage and as it does, you wince and squeal involuntarily. I pull you down until my shaft is completely buried in you. You gave your virginity to me only six weeks ago and the sensation still seems new despite our nightly (and daily) romps. You are spitted and very near coming already. It is thrilling.

You begin to rock on my lap. You are getting accustomed to the pain and it is blending with the pleasure to create a new, hot excitement. The pain and my cock are compelling you toward orgasm in a way that feels new and very, very naughty.

Your orgasm sweeps through you all of a sudden and like a freight-train. You scream loudly. 

I hold you firmly and call out, "Oh, my darling!"

You feel my cock pumping inside you - so deep. You can feel the tip of my cock sitting right at your quivering cervix. You can feel the warm flood all the way inside you and come again immediately, your abdominal muscles convulsing, your cunny squeezing, your cervix twitching as if it's drinking up my seed.

As you wrap your arms around my neck and bend down to kiss me again, you can still feel it twitching against the still-hard head of my cock.

"Daddy - I love you, Daddy. I feel like I'm drinking you in, Daddy."

"Yes, my little love - that's just what your womb is doing, dear."

"Oh, my Daddy. I will always be your - your pet." You are trying it on - pet. Yes - it feels good. It feels right. "I belong to you."

"Yes - yes - yes you do."



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 10



Glasses

You are studying for your physics exam. Your papers are spread out on the breakfast table in the kitchen.

I helped you with your math homework as soon as you got home. I made you a snack. You kissed me and we talked about your day -- and mine -- and we kissed some more, but then I insisted you get to work and when you complained, I told you "There will be time for love later, darling. I don't want to be your distraction. You should study now, don't you think, Konekochan?"

You smile -- Konekochan -- it's my new pet name for you. "Yes, Daddy."

I sat down next to you and took your hand in mine. "Darling, you are strong and beautiful and I only ever want you grow into being more that way. In our love-play, you are my submissive and that's wonderful. When you need it or want it, that can always be your refuge. But I never want you to feel separated from life and I never want you to hide from the things you need to do to be more and more yourself. I feel it's important that you work hard in school so you can be more independent and more free. My arms will always be here to hold you. I want you to come to them freely."

You were silent for a long moment, taking it in. "Thank you, Daddy." You smiled and touched my cheek. "I have never felt so loved. Sometimes I don't quite know what to do -- I mean -- because you are older, there are ways that you are like -- well -- like a father or uncle to me -- and I like that. You have a different view of life and it's so amazing to be around you. I learn so much just by being near you. 

"So sometimes when you tell me what I should do, I react like I'm obeying my elder and also like I'm obeying you -- the part of you that is my dominant. It's actually very sweet and makes me feel warm inside. I like obeying you. And I love calling you 'Daddy.' But I always obey voluntarily. I know that sounds funny -- but I mean it. I know I'm free. I know you'd never want me to feel -- well -- confined.

"But it's also important to me to feel that I belong to you even in daily life. When I'm in class, when I'm getting lunch with my friends, wherever I am -- I'm very aware that I belong to you. And I really, really like it. I really, really need it, Daddy. I gives me -- like an anchor or something -- like context... yes context is a good word for it. Being yours gives my life the context that I need.

"I like it when you tell me what I should do -- like to do my homework or something. I like being your little girl. And I really, really like being your pet. It makes me feel safe and happy."

"But Darling," I said, "What will happen when you outgrow liking to be my little girl."

"Then, Daddy, I will like being your young lady. But you will always be my Daddy." And you tickled my abdomen with both your hands and you laughed mellifluously.

The kitchen echoed with it. I knew the halls and stairs all the way to the highest cupola were smiling. The house had found new life ever since you stepped through it's door. The building was full of you and because of you it would be empty if you ever left.

So you turned back to your studies, your lap-top whirring and your books opened.

Now my Handbook of Chemistry and Physics is piled high with other reference books from my library on the table. You are squinting at the papers. You rub your eyes. "I'm tired, Daddy. I should stop for now. I'll study more tomorrow after breakfast. I don't have class until Early American History in the afternoon." You hold your head and frown as if it hurts.

"What's the matter, baby girl? Headache?"

"Yes, Daddy, more and more -- when I study too long."

I come over and look you in the eyes. "Sweetie -- is it your eyes? Maybe you need glasses."

"But this is a headache, not an eye-ache." Your tone is a little angry. A little defensive, maybe?

"Why the mood? I just asked if you had trouble seeing."

"I can see just fine and I don't need glasses."

You have been too vehement. I'm dumbfounded. I think to myself how I had forgotten about girls' moods. But then I say "You need glasses, don't you? Tell the truth." I smile.

You look cross. "So what? What if I get a little out of focus when I'm reading?"

My tone is calm. "Is it just when you're reading?"

"Well -- mostly. So what?"

"The strain of trying to focus your eyes may be what's giving you the headaches, sweetie, that's all. If you need glasses, it's no big deal. What's the matter?"

You are scowling. "I -- I used to wear glasses."

"You used to?"

"Yes I used to, then I stopped."

"And why did you stop?"

"I can see fine without them."

"But you get headaches when you read. So -- let me get this straight. You actually have glasses, don't you?"

"Maybe -- not anymore. They were just reading glasses anyway. They were stupid looking."

"Oh -- OK. The truth will out. So you don't wear your glasses because you think they make you look foolish?"

After a long silence -- "Yes, Daddy." You sound defeated.

"Come with me, little girl."

You take my outstretched hand. We climb the stairs from the back kitchen hall to your room in the servants' wing. I am leading you. You are trailing behind. I smile -- it's as if you are being a petulant child. I open the door to your room.

"Show me." I gesture to your room and you step inside. As I stand by the door, you produce a pair of glasses from the little writing desk drawer. They are typical reading glasses -- plastic frames -- magnifying lenses. I hold them up to my eyes -- about 1.5x. 

"Try them on for me, little girl."

You slide them onto your face. They look fine, but not wonderful. Your face is so beautiful that it certainly doesn't really matter. "Darling, they're just fine. Why don't you wear them?"

"I hate them. Boys don't like girls with glasses."

I smile. "Oh -- I understand now."

"Put them away. Come with me." I take your hand. I lead you through the main house; down the front stairs, around the corner, through the double doors into the library. Turning on the light switch, I lead you across the large room with its high, double-storied bookshelves, the ladder to climb to the highest ones, the glass cases with old things, the suit of Japanese armor, the Japanese swords -- it's like a museum -- to a desk by the tall window -- the window with the arched stained-glass panes at the top. "Now, darling --"

I slide open the pencil drawer and I take out a beautiful leather glasses case. I hand it to you. You look at me, then at the case. You open it.

Inside is a delicate pair of wire rim glasses. "Oh -- Oh, my, Daddy. Are they silver?"

"Yes, darling, and they're glass, not plastic. Try them on."

You pick them up. "The little nose pieces -- what are they?"

"Ivory, I believe -- back from before it was banned."

You try them on. It's a little tricky because the frames are kind-of flexible. You turn to me. I'm caught off guard. There is something about their old-fashioned shape that is stunningly beautiful on your face. Your youth and their age are a perfect match.

"Go look at yourself in the mirror upstairs, darling. Tell me if you like them. I'll turn out the lights down here and be up in a moment."

You turn slowly and walk across the room holding their case. You cross the great room to the marble stairs. You climb them and at the top, at the beginning of the long hall, you look at the portraits through the old glasses now perched on your nose. One after another comes into focus as you walk along to my room and near the end is a portrait of a lady. She's sitting by a window holding a book in her lap and on the book is a pair of silver glasses with ivory nose pieces.

As you study the painting more closely, you realize that she's sitting by the window in the library. Yes -- and your memory of the bookshelves you just saw match in the painting. She is small, blond, and dressed in clothes that look like they're from an old movie. She looks about twenty. She's beautiful.

Her hair is tied into a bun and a couple long strands fall carelessly across her shoulders. She's smiling in a way that reminds you of my smile. Her eyes are mischievous. You look at her hands. They remind you of my hands. And you focus on the glasses. They are the same as the pair that are on your face now -- you are sure of it.

You are stunned.

You turn and walk to the huge old mirror at the end of the hall by my bedroom door. You look at yourself.

You are wearing a simple blue dress and a light cardigan sweater. Your face is perfectly complimented by the glasses. You look elegant. You smile.

You walk back to the portrait of the lady. You touch her hand.

You skip to my room. You put the glasses back in their case and place them on the night table. You strip and snuggle down into the covers.

You feel suddenly hot. You spread your legs wide -- so naughty -- and slip your fingers between your pussy lips. You stroke yourself to a quick orgasm, shuddering and whimpering quietly. You squeeze your legs shut, savoring the excitement and release.

When I join you moments later, I can smell your heat. I prop pillows up against the bedstead and sit. You straddle me and take me into your sweet body, taking my cock into your heat -- kissing tenderly, you began to fuck me.

I hold you by the waist. I slow your movements.

"Darling, take it very slow. Barely move. Relax, sweetie."

"Yes, sir."

And so we prolong our union. So sweet. So deep. I hold you close while you very slowly fuck me. The minutes slip by. 

I have quieted my mind. I am pulling you into inner silence. You feel as if you are falling into me.

We are in an inner timeless place, but in the outer world it has been a long time. Half an hour. Forty five minutes. An hour of deep, blissful connection.

I can feel your wetness dripping down my balls. You kiss me again -- a long, gentle, lingering kiss.

Fifteen minutes more. You are working it so slow and strong. You are breathing hard even though you're moving so slightly.

"Oh, Daddy! Oh, my God, Daddy!"

"That's it, sweetie. Nice and easy."

You begin to move a little more.

"That's my good girl. No more than that."

"But Daddy -- I -- I need to come."

"Yes, darling. You will come. But no more movement than that."

"I'm -- Oh -- I'm coming." You begin to shake,

"That's my baby -- nice and easy."

Your cunnie is spasming, gripping my cock. You squeal softly. I hold your waist firmly. "Don't stop, baby girl, but don't speed up -- just nice and easy now."

"Oh -- Ooooh -- Oooooooh, Daddy."

"That's my baby." My voice was warm and gentle. You are moving slowly, but even more voluptuously. Your cunnie is still fluttering. 

It is impossible for you describe to yourself. You are so quiet inside that you feel transparent. You are keenly aware of your body and are experiencing our joining in a very intense way and yet it is as if you are watching it from a very deep place inside yourself. You are hot and aroused beyond words -- in fact, you are riding wave after wave of orgasm and yet you feel quiet and sure inside.

"Daddy, I'm coming and coming. Ooooooh. Oooooooh."

"That's my little love."

"Just -- coming -- and -- coming. Oh -- My God, Daddy."

"That's it, baby. Come for Daddy. Nice and long and easy."

Another wave is taking you. You are shaking again. You moan beautifully.

"Oooooooooooooooh. Ooooooooooooh." Moaning softly with each breath. 

"Oooooooooooooooh. Oooooooooh. Daddyyyyyyyyyyyyy."

"That's my baby. Nice and easy."

Your pussy gushes. It spasms hard. You are gripping me marvelously. Perfect. Hot, slick. Wet.

"I'mmmmm Commmiiiing Soooo deeeeep."

"Yes, baby. Come for me now, sweetie."

Earth and time and space seem to cave in under you. You open your mouth to yell, but no sound -- you arch your back and grind your pussy down, grinding your clitty hard against my pubic bone. You shake while I hold your waist strongly. You suddenly break into a sweat. And you find your voice. Soft and low at first. Then rising -- rising to a melodious howl. I have never heard anything quite like it except for midnight wolves in Canada where we summered when I was a boy.

It is beautiful beyond words. And you howl again louder -- shaking as you come. You are strong. You are free.

You you keep moving and settle down against my body -- you know just what to do -- you have learned the thing that I can't resist. You nibble my neck now and say softly but firmly, "Come for me, Daddy. Take me. Make me your own. Come for me. Come for me, Daddy. Come on -- make me your very own little girl. Come for me. Come for me, Daddy."

I feel you tighten your pussy. You kiss me. You look into my eyes, smile, and whisper my name and all of a sudden, my cock is on fire within you. A hot rush runs up my legs -- up my spine. My balls catch fire. And my cock pumps -- slow, indescribably hard, regular pumping.

And, feeling my seed spilling into you, you arch back, you howl again -- but softly this time -- a sweeter cry -- a call of victory.

You bend back toward me and kiss my mouth so softly, so very tenderly, working your tongue against my teeth, wrestling gently with my tongue. You croon. "I had no idea. I had no idea what it could be like."

I was still catching my breath.

"I thought I knew what orgasm was, Daddy, since I was much younger and I began to explore myself. I liked doing it so much that I thought there must be something wrong with me. I thought I was an expert at coming until -- until you. But I had no idea. I had no idea it could be this way.

"And you took me so deep into -- into -- so deep into myself and into you. It was like I was flying above the snow -- it was like I was staring at the winter moon. And you were all inside me. Daddy, when you came in me it was like I was touching your soul. Thank you, Daddy -- so very much."

"I think that was the loveliest sound I've ever heard. Your sweet voice. It made me come so hard. My darling little girl."

You lean against me, pressing me into the pillows. You wrap your arms around me, pushing them around under my back. My cock is still inside you, still slightly hard, hot. We drift together.

I whisper, "I am so lucky. You are the embodiment of young womanhood. I can feel your spirit. I think I shall have to call you Okamichan. It means 'Little wolf.' "

You giggle and snuggle, "Daddy, I love the glasses."

"Then they're yours, darling."

"To keep?"

"Yes. To keep." I chuckle.

"I love them."

"I'm glad. They're pretty old-fashioned, but I thought they might work -- they're about the same magnification as yours. If you need a different prescription, we can get new lenses made for you."

"I'm sure they're perfect, Daddy."

"Daddy -- are they the same glasses as are in the portrait in the hall?"

"Yes, dear."

"Who is that?"

"My grandmother."

"That's your grandmother?"

"Yes, sweetie."

"They were her glasses?"

"Yes, when she was about your age."

"Now they're mine."

"Yes."

"To keep."

"Yes. To keep." You snuggle against me. I stroke your long very curly hair.

"I will cherish them. When I wear them in school they will always remind me that I belong to you. It's perfect. It's just what I needed." 

You will move your books from the kitchen table to the desk in the library by the window. From now on, when you're not reading in your chair by my piano, you will study at my grandmother's desk.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 11



Adventure

You were beginning to press your lips against the hot, smooth tip of a very hard cock. You opened slightly to touch it with your tongue. It felt silky as you wetted it. You could taste the drop of pre-come that was waiting there for your kiss. It was delicious and arousing.

You hands were wrapped around its shaft. You could feel it pulsing. You squeezed it. You slid the bulb of its tip into your mouth. You sucked, your mouth opened wide and your lips beginning to work it.

You felt your pussy -- very wet and you squirmed. You felt hands in your hair. You felt them grip you and begin to move you down the hard prick.

The cock was large, long, and thick. It was pushing down your throat. Deep and delicious. Moving slowly. Using you. Throbbing, pulsing.

You felt hands grab your waist roughly. You felt another hard, large cock pressing into your pussy. It was shocking; a cock fucking your mouth and another fucking your cunt. It was shocking but you were so aroused you knew you would come fast and hard.

You were being used and you were loving it. All they wanted was to fuck you. All you wanted was to feel them take you. Hard, steaming, sex -- pounding you. Two large cocks pushing you, pushing you.

It was dark. You couldn't see. But you could hear them breathing hard. Two boys -- and you wanted them to come. You wanted to swallow mouthfuls of sperm. You wanted to feel hot come in your tight, hungry snatch.

You felt them begin to explode in you. You couldn't help it, you started to orgasm -- such a bad, bad girl. You shuddered and opened you eyes as you came. I was sleeping next to your dreaming body and I asked softly, "You OK, baby girl?"

"Oh, Daddy -- I just had the naughtiest dream."

I smiled, sleepily, "And what was that?"

"I was -- I was being fucked in my mouth and my pussy at the same time." You giggle. "Two boys. I think I came in my dream."

"That certainly was a naughty dream," I said.

"Daddy, you told me you got that invitation to go to that erotic club in the city."

"Yes, sweetie. Have you thought it over?"

"Yes, Sir. I am curious about it. Are you sure it would be OK with you if I wanted to go?"

"I think so, sweetie."

"Then let's have an adventure, Daddy."

You climbed on top of me, moving around until your cunnie lips were over my face. I ate you 'till you screamed while you sucked me -- my cock pumping into your throat.

Now you have on your party dress -- the little black one -- with your ruby cashmere shawl. You're wearing your pretty patent leather flats and have your red sequin clutch. You have the string of pearls I bought you. Your hair is tied back with a red bow -- your lipstick is deep red. You are not wearing panties. 

Our car has taken us to the city. We are holding hands in the back seat and watching the buildings go by. You like our trips together. You put your head on my shoulder. The fabric of my jacket feels soft and smooth against your cheek. You smile and squeeze my hand. You lean up to kiss me. "Happy, little girl?"

"Yes, Daddy." And you cuddle against me.

You feel small next to me -- not that I'm a tall man -- but you like feeling the difference -- you like it that I'm bigger than you. You like being my little girl. It makes you feel safe.

The car slows and moves to the curb outside a non-descript city building and the driver gets out and opens our door for us. I get out and offer my hand to you. You get out of the car -- it feels so grown up. You smile to yourself -- at the thought of being like a little girl feeling grown up.

The night air is chilly. It's autumn's last days.

Now I lead you to a plain door in the building. I open it for us and we step inside -- you first. We are in a small anteroom with an interior door on the wall opposite and a couple love seats by the walls on either side. I knock on the interior door.

After what seems to be a long wait, the door is answered by a beautiful woman in a tight red dress and very high heels. She is tall and slender and welcomes us in. We are expected.

We walk around a wall and into a large sitting room with couches and chairs and tables. The room is appointed in Victorian style. It looks a little like an old-fashioned hotel lobby. A small quintet is playing music in the corner. There are men and women sitting about quietly talking and laughing -- drinking and eating snacks.

You notice that some of the women are wearing bustiers and stockings -- some are in bras and panties with kimonos and open robes.

We sit on a couch together and a waitress comes by and takes our orders. You order a glass of Pinot Noir for you and mineral water for me. The waitress is wearing a very skimpy outfit. As she turns to go, you can see her naked hips up under her skirt. Her shoes are very high heels but she maneuvers expertly.

The room is lit entirely by candles -- it looks like hundreds -- in the sconces, it the chandeliers, and on shelves all around the room. The ceiling is high -- about twenty feet. The walls are covered with murals.

When you look at the murals closely, you realize that they're paintings of people in various erotic poses and activities. There are pictures of women exposing their pussies and playing with themselves and each other. There are pictures of men stroking themselves and each other. In a few paintings, there are men and women tied up and spanking each other and wearing strange leather outfits with zippers and straps. In one big painting, there's a woman being held by two others while she's being fucked by a large dog.

You look at me. I've been taking it all in too.

As you look further around the room you notice that some of the real women's breasts are exposed. One has pierced nipples. One is wearing clamps. One lady sitting nearby has her legs spread slightly exposing her pussy. She's wearing a beautiful cream-colored sequin dress. She catches you looking at her pussy. Your eyes meet and she smiles at you. Her hair is auburn, her skin is olive. She looks like she's in her mid thirties.

She lifts her skirt slightly more giving you a better view. Her clitoris is pierced. You smile back at her. It feels a little strange to be looking at another woman's pussy in public and have her obviously enjoying it. You feel your own pussy getting slightly wet and, without thinking, you squirm slightly. Your eyes meet again. She smiles at you more openly and winks. You grin a little nervously. You realize she has seen you squirm and senses your mild excitement.

You can see our waitress serving someone else and bending over, exposing her back-side to you. You can see her pussy lips. 

Some of the men and women in the room are kissing. Some of the women are kissing each other. Some of the men are kissing.

"Interesting place, eh sweetie?"

"Daddy, it really is wicked being in a place like this."

I chuckle. "It sure is -- still -- I thought you might get a kick out of something so naughty."

"Some of the women are -- well -- exposed."

"Yes, I know. Do you like it, sweetie?"

"Well -- it is kind of exciting."

Our drinks arrive. I smile at you and say, "For now, just for fun, tell me about your day."

There is something indescribably erotic about sitting with me and talking about little things in this place where people are indulging in slightly exposing themselves. Things around the room keep catching your eye as we talk. 

You seem to be the youngest girl in the room. There's a man sitting a little ways off and a much younger man is slowly sliding his hand over his cock through his pants. But even that younger man looks older than you. There are two ladies kissing and one of them is touching the other's breast.

The lady in the sequin dress rises and, weaving past the other chairs and little tables with people laughing and talking and flirting, comes over to us. "Who is this lovely creature," she asks as she sits next to you. "I'm Olivia, dear," and she offers you her hand.

"I'm pleased to meet you," you answer.

"I hope you are enjoying yourself. Have you ever been somewhere like this before?"

"No -- no I haven't."

"Shall I show you around a bit?"

You glance back at me. Olivia laughs, "Oh he can come along too. Drink that last bit of your wine, dear, come with me." Still holding your hand, she leads us down the hall. On either side there are doors leading to candle-lit rooms where people are kissing and fondling each other. You are walking between Olivia and I, holding our hands.

Olivia is walking you slowly. She wants you to see. You see a young man stroking another man's cock. There is a woman playing with herself as she watches them. There is a man eating a woman's pussy while other men and women watch and they are stroking themselves. In another room, a naked lady is being spanked while others watch. You can see the men's hands stroking their cocks.

Olivia pauses in front of a room where three men's cocks are being sucked by two ladies and by one man. Other people are lounging around the room kissing and drinking and playing with themselves. The room, like the others, is lit by what seems like a hundred candles. "Let's go in, dear," Olivia says. Your eyes are wide. She smiles at you. "Come on, sweetie, I'm sure you'll like it." 

We step into the room and walk over to a free couch. The three of us sit. On the couch just opposite us, a man is sucking another man's cock. Both their shirts are unbuttoned and their pants are open. You are watching as the mouth of the one man slides over the other man's hard member. His cock is large and glistening in the candle-light. You can see the expression of pleasure on the one man's face. He is slowly grinding his hips back and forth.

The waitress comes by and Olivia orders, "Do you like martinis, dear?" 

You nod. "And mineral water for my Daddy"

You never refer to me as "Daddy" in public, but I'm pleased -- I squeeze your hand and smile -- it's OK to call me that here. You smile back at me. You feel flushed. You are excited by the environment.

Olivia says to the waitress -- "Make the martinis doubles, OK? Our little girl will need a little reinforcement this evening." You see the waitress smile wickedly and you shiver. You are nervous and excited. Being in the room is like being a character inside a pornographic movie. There are mirrors on the walls and paintings of people fucking.

Olivia and I are holding your hands. As you look around the room, you can see all kinds of people engaged in different sex acts. And of all the people, you seem to be the youngest except for one -- a girl all the way across the room who is slowly stroking the cock of older man sitting next to her. She is kissing the man's neck as he watches the action in the room.

The waitress comes back with our drinks -- and Olivia hands you your large martini glass. She picks up the toothpick skewering your olive and feeds the fruit to you. You look into her grey eyes as you nibble on the olive she's holding and, without thinking, you then take a gulp of your martini.

It's delicious and it hits your blood right away. Olivia leans near your ear, "Wouldn't you like to be a little more comfortable, dear?" You watch her hand adjusting the skirt of your dress higher. She gently encourages your legs to part. It feels very naughty. You know you are exposing your pussy.

you glance at me and I smile. "It's OK, darling. What ever feels OK for you. I want you to enjoy yourself."

You smile, "I -- I kind of like this, Daddy. It feels so -- naughty."

Olivia smiles, "That's good, sweetie -- it's OK -- if there's something you're uncomfortable with, all you have to do is say so. Auntie Olivia will take good care of you -- I promise."

She rises and pulls a chair over so she's opposite you, but very close and at a slight angle so she's also facing me. She smiles and you both take sips of your martinis. She leans forward. Locking eyes with you, she lifts your dress even higher. "You are so lovely, dear. I can't help myself. I want to see your beautiful little pussy. And I think it's exciting you to know that other people can see it. You like that don't you, sweetie."

You nod slowly. You shift your pelvis slightly in response to your slowly rising excitement.

You notice that the men on the opposite couch have stopped and are looking between your legs.

Olivia smiles at you. "I can see you like this, sweetie. Have you ever done anything so naughty? Oh, maybe you've done naughty things with your 'Daddy' but not like this, I'll bet. You look like this is your first time."

You nod slowly. Olivia turns to the men on the couch. "Isn't she beautiful? Look at her sweet pussy lips." You see the men watching your pussy. You feel your pulse quicken and your pussy moisten. "Look at her getting wet." 

She leans back and raises one of her legs so her foot is on the edge of the couch next to you. You are watching her intently as she slides her dress up and parts her legs. "Now, now, little girl -- open your legs more and show your Autie you beautiful little box."

You slowly open your legs more. You can see Olivia's pussy lips parted and glistening. "You see, you've made me quite wet as well, my dear." 

You feel your own pussy dampen more again. You look at Olivia's face -- she is holding her martini glass looking between your legs with an expression of shameless desire. She takes another sip of her martini and so do you. She looks you in the eyes and smiles.

You see her hand stroking up the inside of her leg and across her pussy lips. She is clean shaven. Her lips are full and open. Her inner lips protrude beyond them in a slightly obscene way. They are very full and fleshy. Her erect clitoris is sticking out a full inch and a half beyond the sheath. It looks almost like a small finger. There is a gold ring piercing her clitoris sheath.

Her fingers begin gently touching her lips. You glance up at her. She smiles at you. "You like your Auntie's pussy, don't you, dear." You nod. Your eyes are wide, your pupils are dilated. You are breathing a little fast. You are excited and captivated.

You both sip your martinis again. You want to behave grown up like Olivia. "Spread your legs open more, dear. Show your auntie your naughty little pussy. That's right, now lift your dress up all the way."

You take your hand from mine and slowly lift up your dress. Now your abdomen is completely exposed -- your little bit of hair, your smooth young dark skin -- and you spread your legs open as you lean back. You are now enjoying exciting Olivia and you can see the men looking at you intently. A couple other people come by and stand watching you. One of those men opens his trousers and takes out his erect cock.

You see Olivia's finger dip between her pussy lips and glide over her large clitoris, wetting it more. You feel your pussy gush and you know she can see it.

Something catches your eye beyond Olivia. The two men on the couch opposite are stroking themselves. Their hands are slowly sliding along their shafts. You are excited by them and, without thinking, you slip your finger along you clitoris. You begin to stroke yourself too.

You look at Olivia's fingers playing with herself. She sips her martini -- the last drop -- you sip yours -- the last drop. The waitress is there and takes your glasses. "We'll want another round." Olivia says as she strokes herself.

You look up at me. "Enjoy yourself, darling."

"Thank you, Daddy -- what a naughty adventure -- it's so -- so bad."

I smile and lean down to kiss you. You kiss me deeply. You are stroking yourself very gently.

"That's right, dear, take your time. Show your auntie you pretty little cunny. Auntie's going to come for you. Would you like watch your Auntie come?"

You nod slowly. Olivia smiles. You see her shudder and her pussy get suddenly even wetter. "You are so beautiful, dear. Spread you pussy lips for Auntie."

You spread your lips. "Now play for auntie. Show me how you do it, dear." 

You spread your legs wider. The men on the couch are stoking faster. There is a couple standing behind the couch. The woman has her hands on the back of the couch and is bent over slightly and the man is standing behind her. He is moving like he's fucking her while they watch you. She is groaning slightly.

One of the men opposite gets down in front of the other and takes his partner's cock in his mouth. You can see him sucking. Your fingers quicken.

Olivia says gently, "She's going to come soon. That's right, dear. Show us how you come." Her fingers move fast and hard across her clitoris.

You look at the couple fucking, the man being sucked, and at Olivia -- they're all watching you intently and it fires your blood. You begin to squirm and play hard. You see the man arch his back and begin to pump his come into the other man's mouth. You see the couple fucking hard. You see Olivia with a completely lust-filled expression.

"Come on, baby, come for auntie. I'll come for you too. Come on, baby."

You squeal and begin to come very, very hard. You are watching Olivia's fingers thrusting deep into her cunny. She shudders and groans. "Oh, that's wonderful, dear. Come on, keep coming for me."

"Oh, Daddy! Oh -- I'm coming so hard! It's so naughty."

"That's right, sweetie. Enjoy yourself. Come for me. Come for your daddy and Olivia."

You don't want to stop. You feel horny and wanton and you want to come again. The men have switched. Now the other man is being sucked. You see that another man has taken the place of the first one fucking the lady behind the couch. Olivia is stroking herself and thrusting her fingers into her cunny.

You see the young girl from across the room has come over. She smiles at you and watches you playing. She sits down next to you. She gently touches your leg.

"Is this OK?" she asks.

You nod, "Oh -- yes." And you squeal and come again. She smiles at you and gently strokes the inside of your leg encouraging you to spread even wider. 

You spread wide open. Your pussy lips are completely parted. Your fingers are busy. The young girl watches you playing as she strokes your leg. You come again, squealing and squirming deliciously. You look at Olivia as she comes again. You look at the young girl gently touching you -- sliding her hand up your leg almost to your pussy. You are going to come again.

The young girl touches your fingers as they play. She says, "Would you like me to play with you? Would you like me to make you come?"

You look up at me. I ask, "Would you like that, sweetie?"

"Yes, Daddy. I feel so naughty. I think I'd really, really like that." You look at the young girl and nod, yes.

She says, "OK, I'll make you come -- then you make me come, OK? But I want to do it a different way."

Olivia lifts her leg so the girl can come by and kneel on the floor in front of you. Then Olivia puts her foot back. She's still playing with herself.

The waitress comes back with your drinks. Olivia tells the waitress, "We'll want another here for our new little friend. Make it a triple."

You and Olivia take your drinks in one hand. Olivia's other hand is stroking her clitoris while she watches you. You hold your drink in your right hand while your left hand is gently touching your pussy lips. Your legs are spread wide and the young girl is kneeling between them on the carpet before you.

She gently pushes your hand away from your pussy. "Let me do that," she says. So you reach for my hand and I hold your hand tight and re-assuringly. Olivia sips her martini. She smiles and says, "You're in for a treat, dear, take it from your Auntie. Have another sip of your drink and relax."

You sip your martini. 

The young girl gently places her hands on the inside of your legs and presses them further open. She leans in slowly. You watch as she places a tender kiss on your pussy lips. So gentle -- so tender. Like a butterfly's wings. She gently slides her tongue between your pussy lips. Your pussy gushes.




Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 11



You hand your martini to me. You begin to lose yourself in the experience.

Olivia says, "It's another first, isn't it, dear. It's the first time you've been eaten by a woman. It's wonderful, isn't it?"

You nod. You are breathing quicker. Your new little friend knows her work. She's teasing you and urging you -- making you rise and fall, lifting you then letting you rest, like a roller-coaster. She's taking her time with you. You are gently rocking. You put your fingers in her hair. She reaches up and takes one of your hands in hers.

You are quite tipsy and very consumed by the experience. You glance at Olivia, smiling at you and bringing herself off while she watches. The man across from you has been teasing his partner the whole time, sucking him and stroking him. The woman leaning on the back of the couch is still being fucked -- but by yet another man. She's very excited.

Olivia says to the girl eagerly eating your cunny, "She's ready now. Make her come for us."

The girl begins to quicken her pace. She's sucking your clitoris hard and she slides a finger into your pussy. She is curling her finger back and pressing forward -- back and forth inside you -- pressing hard. 

"Oh -- Oh -- Oh, my God -- Daddy! She's going to make me come," you say loudly. "Oh! -- so -- so hard!"

The man being sucked groans and begins to pump his spunk into the other man's mouth.

Olivia croons, "Oh -- it's so nice -- so nice."

Then you come so hard and fast that you scream loudly over and over. The lady leaning on the couch screams and comes. Olivia thrusts her fingers into her cunny and comes hard and long. And you too -- coming so long -- coming so hard. "Oh my God! Oh, Daddy! Oh my God!." Your fingers are gripping the girl's hair and you're squirming against her mouth.

The girl eases up and lets you come down to earth. She lifts her head and grins at you mischievously. You take her face in your hands and pull her gently up. You kiss her mouth, her tongue sliding between your teeth and sucking your breath away. You can taste your pussy juice thick on her lips.

"That was wonderful," she says. She's lying on top of you. "But now it's my turn." You grin at each other. She takes your hand and slides it down between your bodies. She lifts her dress and slides your hand between her legs. "Just touch me like you would want to be touched." You begin to explore her pussy lips, sliding your finger between and finding her clitoris. It's fleshy and large. She says, "Oh -- that's it."

You can feel that she's very wet. You realize she's very excited from having eaten you.

Her face is very close to yours. You look her in the eyes. You suddenly know what to do. You whisper to her, "I'm going to make you never want to let me go."

"Promises, promises." She says.

You take her large clit between your thumb and fingers and grip it just right. You squeeze.

"Oh!" She gasps. "OH! Oh, yesssss, baby! Oh, yesssss!"

You roll her clitoris hard between your fingers -- hard and rough. She begins to gasp loudly. "OH! Oh, you little bitch! Oh, my darling little bitch! OH!"

You squeeze hard. She screams. "Oh! I never -- not like this -- I never felt this -- this way -- Oh!"

Her eyes are wide. She is on the verge of coming so hard. Her mouth is open. She has an expression of surprise and delight. You roll her clitoris and squeeze as hard as you can all of a sudden.

She screams loudly -- shrieking -- and wetting your hand with her copious spend. But you don't stop. You squeeze again. She shrieks. She's shaking -- shaking on top of you. "Oh my God! Oh yesssss. My darling little bitch. My darling bitch."

But you don't let up. You say to her softly, "You've been a naughty girl haven't you?"

"Oh! Oh yessss. Oh yessss. Such a bad girl."

You are speaking softly so only she can hear you as you roll her clitoris harder again. "You like to play with girls, don't you?"

"Oh! Yessssss. Yessssss. I confesssss. I do!

You kiss her open mouth, nibbling on her her lips as you squeeze again. She's shaking hard.

"You like me a lot, don't you, baby?"

"Oh -- yessss."

"Say it, baby"

"I like you very, very a lot."

You squeeze hard again, roll her clit, and squeeze as hard as you can.

She shrieks with pain and pleasure. She spends on your fingers again. She screams and shakes as you make her come.

She whispers to you, panting, "You darling -- you darling -- you little bitch. You're right -- damn! I don't want to let you go."

You say to her softly, "I belong to my Daddy. I love him. I'll ask my daddy -- maybe you can come visit us sometime."

She says, "Yes, I want to eat you again -- when we can be alone."

You tell her. "I want you to eat me again too -- but only if it's OK with my Daddy."

She whispers her number and purrs "Text me. Please."

You are stroking her clitoris gently. "You know I will."

You hear Olivia coming again. "You little darlings are so lovely! Oh -- oh my dears! Oh my God!"

She whispers to you, "I'm Charlene, but people call me Charlie." She lifts herself off you slowly and kneels back on the rug in front of you. You sit up and arrange your dress lower, but keeping it just high enough for Olivia to see your glistening lips.

Charlie holds your hand. The waitress comes by and hands the two of you're your martinis. You clink your glasses together. You take a sip of yours. She gulps a big mouthful from her very full glass.

She turns to you and grins, "Would you please hold this for me a minute or two?"

You take her glass, smiling at your new, naughty friend. She kneels between Olivia's legs. She turns to you and grins wickedly, "I do love eating pussy."

You catch a kind of defiance in her expression.

She goes down on Olivia fast and hard and Olivia screams, "Oh my GOD! Do me! Do me!" You see Charlie slide her fingers into Olivia's snatch. You see Charlie's arm muscles flex as she stroke's Olivia's pussy inside.

Holding the two martini glasses, you take another sip, smile at me and mouth, "I love you, Daddy."

I take Charlie's glass from you so I can hold your hand. Olivia screams again. 



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 12



Sleeping Beauty

You still have on your party dress -- the little black one -- with your ruby cashmere shawl. You're still wearing your pretty patent leather flats and have your red sequin clutch. You have the string of pearls I bought you. Your hair is tied back with a red bow -- your lipstick is deep red. You are not wearing panties. 

And now you are leaning over the stone balcony railing outside our hotel room on the 17th floor overlooking Central Park. I am standing behind you. Your legs are spread. Your clitoris is throbbing in a new and delicious way because of the clamp I've fitted to it as you spread your legs like the good little submissive you are.

We arrived from the club. We checked in and hurried to our room. You were so tipsy and aroused that you nearly knocked me down to fuck me in the elevator. I took you outside on the balcony and bent you over the stone rail. I took the clamp out of my jacket pocket and unceremoniously -- almost rudely -- slipped it onto your already swollen clitoris -- and tightened it as you moaned and involuntarily gushed on my fingers.

Your inebriation has helped me out here -- you were unaware of exactly what I was doing until you felt the clamp -- a brand new sensation.

The lights of the city below are magical. It's chilly on the 17th floor. I'm playing with your pussy lips. I'm tightening the clamp again. You moan louder.

"Oh, bad, bad Daddy. That's so nasty."

"Do you like it, baby girl?"

"Oh yesssss -- Oh, Daddy -- yesssss."

Your clitoris is squeezed up and out by the clamp and I'm stroking it very gently. You are whimpering and squirming in your arousal and your aching need.

"You are lovely, darling." I say.

I take the small bottle of lube from my pocket. I put an ample amount on my fingers. I lift your skirt and slide my wetted, slippery digits between your pretty ass cheeks. You are surprised,

With my left hand, I reach down to your cunnie lips and play with them gently while I begin to tease your ass-hole with my wet, slippery right hand.

You are breathing hard and irregularly. This is also new.

"Oh -- Oh -- Oh, Daddy! What are you doing? Oh -- that's so nice -- but -- I don't know..."

"It's OK, darling. Daddy's going to make you feel very good tonight. You've been such a naughty little girl, haven't you? Opening your legs for all those people to see -- coming for them -- playing with Charlene. Now it's time for you to give yourself to Daddy."

I slip my finger easily into your ass and begin to work it. And I reach to squeeze your extended clitoris with my other hand -- squeezing hard.

You squeal as you squirm, "Ooooooh -- Ooooooh. That's so naughty, Daddy."

I reach under you and tighten the clamp another little bit -- but every little bit feels extreme. You moan and whimper. 

I'm working your ass with my finger. You are breathing heavily. I slip a second finger into your ass, stretching you and working you open. You've never experienced this or anything like it. You shudder.

"That's my baby girl," I say as I pick up the pace. You pussy is actually dripping onto the stone of the balcony. You groan deep in your throat as you shudder again. "You like it, don't you, baby."

"Oh God -- Oh yes, Daddy. I was a naughty girl tonight, wasn't I?"

"Yes, baby, very naughty."

"What are you going to do to me, Daddy?"

I slide a third finger into you. You groan again. I squeeze your clitoris again.

"A little tighter, baby girl." As I tighten the clamp. The throb has become a delicious pain and you squirm and squeal and my fingers in your ass are driving you mad -- they've become incredibly arousing. You become aware that you are being driven toward orgasm by the throb in your clitoris and my fingers in your ass. The stroking of your sensitive ass hole is going to make you come -- but in such a naughty way... 

I slide my fingers out. You feel frustrated. You hear me unbutton my trousers.

"Daddy?"

You hear my putting lube on my cock.

"Daddy?"

You feel the head of my cock slide between your ass cheeks and come to rest at your stretched ass-hole.

"Daddy?"

"Now, baby girl -- relax for me -- relax." You feel the head of my very hard cock push firmly -- it's stretching you open. You struggle to relax. I ease up.

"Daddy?"

"You were a naughty girl, baby."

"Yes Daddy"

I push again. It is extreme -- but you are so aroused.

"Yes, Daddy. Yes."

I push again. You groan as your flesh yields and allows the head of my cock inside. And I push. It is stretching you way open. The sensation is very extreme.

"Oh -- oh, my God."

"That's it, baby. Take me in."

You whimper and squirm. The sensation is very extreme and arousing.

You are shaking. You are giving in. At last, you completey relax -- you submit. "Oh, Daddy -- I love you sooo much. I only want to make you happy"

My cock now slides all the way into your ass. It's amazing. The pain in your throbbing clitoris and the extreme stretch and friction in your ass hole -- I begin to work my cock slowly in and out. Pushing you -- pushing you. 

You are groaning and squirming back on my cock. Then, as if a dam bursts, you cry out, "Fuck me hard now, Daddy -- make me your little slut."

"Say it again, darling."

"Make me your little slut, Daddy. Fuck me really hard. I need it -- please, Daddy."

And so I oblige. I begin fucking you hard, my hands holding your waist. You are moaning and I know you are close. One last push -- harder and faster.

You scream. You are over the top. You are beyond words. You are groaning as you take my cock deep in your ass. You are writhing and riding me, driven by the pleasure and pain. You are driven higher and higher and you are losing yourself completely. It is divine and so very nasty.

You feel yourself collapse into a state of wanton surrender. You are consumed by the sensation. You are building to a moment -- to something -- to something like in a dream...

"I'm almost there, baby," you hear me say in the distance. "Get ready, little girl."

My cock swells. 

You are about to explode and then...

You feel my cock begin to pump and it sends you over the edge -- but this is an orgasm like no other you've ever had in your sweet short life. You open your mouth to scream, but no sound comes out. You begin to shake and nearly convulse. The pleasure is so extreme that you are seeing stars. You come so long -- so hard. You seem suspended in time.

My cock is done pumping but I'm still fucking your ass.

"Darling -- oh, my little baby."

You find your voice and scream as you come again -- and again.

"Daddy! Daddy! Oh, Daddy!"

I thrust my cock deep into you and hold it there, clutching you by your waist -- hard -- and I push extra hard into you suddenly. "You're mine."

"Yes, sir."

"You belong to me."

Yes, sir -- I am your submissive -- your pet."

"You've been a very good girl."

"I'm glad, Daddy. I only want to make you happy."

"Good girl."

"I think I almost fainted."

"Yes, baby"

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Darling"

"Daddy --"

"Yes, baby."

"Would you please tighten the clamp a little more and fuck me again."

"Of course, my little love."

And so I do. You scream as I tighten the clamp. And I fuck you hard. You come -- and this time you do faint away -- shuddering and screaming my name then falling silent, your arms and legs drooping.

I withdraw from your limp body. I carry you to the bed. I spread your legs wide and carefully remove the clamp. I think to myself that I'll fuck your sore pussy before breakfast.

You are breathing deep and steady.

I undress you and curl up next to you. You are whimpering in your sleep.

I whisper to your ear. "I love you, baby girl."

You stir and wrap your legs around me -- my cock stiffens again. I slide into your cunnie easily. "Fuck me, Daddy."

I thrust. You begin to ride me. God -- you are so sweet. So tight.

I feel you go limp, but it's too late -- I don't care -- I continue to fuck your lovely sleeping body 'till I pump my seed deep into you. 

"My little girl -- what a great pleasure you've just given me."

I fall asleep still on top of you... my lovely little pet.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 13



Phone

You are sitting cross-legged on my bedroom rug – the one by the fireplace. There is a fire. You are in your nighty. You are getting drunk on a bottle of Irish whisky.

It's cold outside – late November – and I flew to LA for a meeting. It's the first time I've been gone since we became lovers – since I took your cherry. You miss me so badly that you ache.

"I'll be gone for three days. I'll be back the day before Thanksgiving." I'd said. "We'll cook dinner together and have a feast. Sound good?"

"Yes, Daddy. But I'll miss you – can't you take me with you?"

I had paused and looked thoughtful. "What about your classes?"

"Oh – you're right – I only have one, but I have to be there – Tuesday."

"We'll plan for you to come with me soon – when you can afford to be away."

You had smiled, "Yes, Daddy."

But now, you're drinking whisky – you don't know it – but it's 15-year Jameson, very expensive – all you know is that it's delicious and it came from my cabinet and so, even though you've never seen me drink alcohol, it feels like it's part of me. It's warming your throat. The fragrance fills your head with each sip. You are getting very horny.

You found a collection of sex toys where you knew they were – in my dresser. You got out the nipple clamps, a large vibrating dildo, and the clitoris clamp you recently became acquainted with. They are next to you on the rug. You've never tried the nipple clamps or the dildo, but hey – a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do – or so you think to yourself – and you giggle.

You've been texting your friends. You are listening to recordings of me on your iPod.

The whisky had made you naughty and flirty. You are texting a girl-friend at school in the dorms a few blocks away.

"im horny" she texts.

You: "OMG me 2"

Her: "show me ur pussy"

You: "LOLs u 1st"

Her: "OK" and a picture comes through. It's of her pussy lips. You can see they're wet. "Now U"

You spread your legs and take a phone picture of your pussy.

Her: "OMG ur so sxy. Call me"

You turn off the iPod. You dial. "Where's your mystery boyfriend?" she asks.

"Away tonight."

"Lucky for me. Who is this boy?"

"I told you - no one special." You lie.

"So you like that place you live? You see much of your landlord? I've heard rumors - he used to be somebody or something, you know."

"Yeah – I guess – he's pretty great."

"So you see him?"

"Yeah, sometimes – well – a lot, really."

"Really? Cool."

"Yeah I sit and listen to him play. I had no idea about it when I moved in. But then I heard him playing at night and I began poking around. I mean – I found this hallway with pictures of him with famous people and then he's got these awards in there. It's kind of amazing, but he doesn't talk about it much. He's really nice but kind of – well – sad – kind of dark."

"Ooooh – you've got a lot to say about him."

"Yeah, I guess I do. Like I said – he's really nice."

"Is he there?"

"No – he's gone. Business in LA. Something about a soundtrack deal."

"Soundtrack?"

"Yeah. You know – movie music. I miss him so much."

Your friend is silent – "Wait – you miss him?"

"Oh – – yeah – I guess I do..."

"Wait a minute – Oh – My – God – your landlord... he's your mystery boyfriend. Oooooh - you're doing your landlord. You're so bad." She giggles.

"I didn't say that."

"You don't have to – Your mystery boyfriend's that – that – old guy. Didn't he used to make CDs or something?"

"He calls them records and he's not old; just older."

"Yeah, right. Whatever. Oh – My – God – so – like what's it like doing an older man?

"Oh, stop it."

"No really," she says. You can hear her voice take on a slightly sexy tone.

You say – "You're playing with yourself."

She giggles, "Absolutely – I'm so horny. So tell me about it – really – what's it like with an older man?"

"Well – I don't have a basis for comparison, really – see – he's my first."

"Really? You gave your cherry to him?"

"Yes. It was wonderful – soooo romantic. He's so good to me."

"Did he nail you?"

"No – I pounced. He wouldn't have done it. I pushed him. He was so gentlemanly. He was so tender. I had fallen for him – hopelessly. I didn't know how to get him – in fact I didn't think it would happen. But I – well – I confessed what I wanted and..."

"Ooooh – you're so bad! So do you care for him or you just doing him?"

"I love him. Very much. You can't tell anyone."

"Oh – My – God – you're secretly in love with an old-guy. Does he love you?"

"Yes – yes. He's so sweet. He's – well – amazing, really."

"Oh God – so like – do you sleep together?"

"Yes – every night now."

"Do you fuck every night?"

"Yes – or – something. But he's really good to me – he helps me with all kinds of things. He takes me places. He makes me do my homework." You giggle.

"Makes you?"

"Yes. I like doing what he says. It's sweet."

"What else does he make you do?" She giggles.

"All kinds of stuff. You wouldn't believe it."

"Try me. So he makes you suck him?"

"Well – it's not like he makes me do that – I mean – I really like it. I do it to him – and I like him to be – strong with me – I like him to push me a bit. So it kind of is like he makes me do it – I guess. But I can make him come really hard too."

"What else?" Her voice has become more sultry. You know she's playing with herself now.

"Oh – I see – you want me to get you off, don't you?"

"Maybe."

"Well, I can tell you stuff you wouldn't believe."

"Oh yeah?"

"So – like this – there are these things called nipple clamps – they were in his dresser drawer – I've got some here. I'm going to put them on 'cause I want to get off really hard – wait – I'm taking off my nighty."

"OK. Me too."

"So I'm putting the nipple clamps on. Here – first the left side"

"Oh – My – God... how – how slutty."

"It's extreme. It feels really good."

"Take a picture – show me."

You send her a picture of your bare breasts with the nipple clamps on.

"Oh, my – they look so – so sexy." Her voice is soft and warm. "Do they feel good?"

"Oh yessss – they make me wet."

"So what else?"

"Well – you won't believe it, but I have a clamp that goes on my – you know – my clitty."

"No way."

"Yes – I'm going to put it on now – – there – just like that. Ooooooh – it feels so nasty."

"You bitch. Show me."

So you spread you legs and take a picture of you pussy with the clamp on your clitoris making it stand out all swollen.

"Oh my – You're going to make me come just looking."

"Don't come yet."

She's breathing hard. "Ok – ok – not yet – I'll wait."

You continue. You're enjoying making her excited. You're bragging a little bit. "So I'm drinking this really amazing whiskey from Ireland. It was in his liquor cabinet which is, like, so full you can't believe it – but he doesn't drink – but he lets me have whatever I want – but not like that's important – it's just really cool, you know?" You take a big sip. You feel it hit your blood. "The clamp is making me soooo wet and horny."

Your little friend is breathing a harder, "So – like – what's he like – I mean – what's he do – you know – when you're like doing it."

"He's really tender sometimes, but then he can also be forceful in just the right way."

"Oh – my. What does he do?" 

"Wait – I'm going to use this dildo and fuck myself until I come. Wait for me."

"You have a dildo? Oh – oh God." You are completely enjoying shocking her.

You turn on the vibrator and slide the dildo into your wet pussy. Despite your bravade, you've never done this before and the vibrations take you by surprise. They are tickling you and teasing you. You moan and begin to stroke it in and out. It feels very good – and very naughty.

"Show me – take a picture."

So you take a little movie of the dildo gliding in and out and you send it to your friend.

"Oh my god – it's so sexy. I'm going to come."

"Don't come yet. I want to come with you."

"Then hurry. Hurry. OK - so what makes him come? Can you make him come?"

"I make him come – but he's not quick, if that's what you mean."

"Ooooooh – baby – how do you make him come?"

"We make love. We take our time. And he makes me come over and over."

"You bitch – more than once?"

"Yeah – all night – and then, when I really want to make him come, I say naughty things to him while he fucks me."

"Oh God – like what?"

"I call him Daddy. I tell him I'm his little girl and I want him to come in my pussy."

You stroke yourself fast with the dildo. Your little friend is panting on the phone. You say, "Come now. Come now." You hear her squeal as she comes. And that triggers you. You yell loud. You forget yourself. You cry out "Daddy! Daddy!" You come hard.

You both catch your breath. Your friend says, "That was great – so sexy."

"I'm not done – I want more."

"More? You're going to do it again?"

"Of course – you do it too."

"I never did it twice."

"I know what you mean – I didn't know I could do it over and over until he made me do it. So come on – come for me again."

You fuck yourself harder and your little friend begins to breathe hard again. Soon she squeals even louder and longer than before and that makes you come again. Hard and long. "Daddy! Take me, Daddy!"

She says "Wow! That one was even stronger. That was great!"

"Yes, yes. That was good." You slide the dildo out. You loosen the clamps and take them off. You lie down on your back on the rug.

"So you call him 'Daddy?' That's so bad."

"Yeah, but it's so sexy, you know?"

"I never thought about it – but I guess so – with an older guy like that. It would be."

You say, "He's so sophisticated. It challenges me. I like it. And he does me so well and so much."

"You're so bad."

"No – I'm in love."

"Well that orgasm was great. You gotta show me your toys, I want to try."

"OK – but go to sleep now – I gotta go."

"OK – look – thank you – that was great. Let's – let's do it again, OK?"

"Of course, silly."

You hang up with you friend. But then you mischievously take the dildo and slide it back into your pussy. You work it slowly. It's delicious. You tease yourself, you ride it, you get right to the edge and pull back. Again and again.

Your cell phone rings. It's me. You answer and hear my soft voice, "Hello, sweetie. I miss you."

"Oh, Daddy – I miss you sooo much. I'm being naughty, Daddy. With the dildo from your dresser drawer."

"You bad little girl." I chuckle. "I made a special recording for you, sweetie. I left a CD on your bed. Why don't you run and give it a listen. Call me when it's done."

"Oh, Daddy – I love you."

I laugh, "Go."

"OK - bye."

You put on your nighty, grab your phone and the crystal glass and the whiskey and you run down the long chilly hallway, through the door into the servants' wing, and to your room.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 14



My Voice

You light the candle. You fill your glass and take a hot mouthful. You put the Whiskey bottle on the little night table. You pick up the portable CD player I left for you as a gift. It has a bow on it. You put on the headphones. You press PLAY.

My voice begins speaking so softly and so seductively:

Now, little girl – are you warmed up?

I hope so.

I want you to take off your clothes, dear, and settle yourself onto your bed.

Imagine I'm sitting on the chair. I'm wearing my heavy, forest green terrycloth bathrobe – the one with my initials embroidered over my left breast. I'm here to play with you.

I love playing with you, darling. I love the way you smile and the way you sigh. I love the way you move as you get excited, shifting your weight – you don't know you're doing it – but I can tell. I can tell.

Sometimes when we're at table and you are shifting in your seat that way – you are thinking about getting me later – you are thinking about taking me to your bed. Sometimes as we're finishing our desert, sipping our coffee – sometimes you are already undressing me. You are thinking about fucking me, aren't you, baby?

I love the way you look. I love the way you laugh. I love the way you hold me close when we get home. I love feeling you tremble. I love you.

For now, I want you to begin to play with me by touching your upper lip with your finger – right there in its center and I want you to stroke it very, very gently – to the corner of your pretty mouth. Yes – like that. Then stroke your lip again to the other corner.

Feels good, doesn't it – like when I brush my mouth against your lips.

You're such a good girl. Now stroke your lip for me again. So softly, so gently. It's OK if you touch your bottom lip too. That's it. I'm watching you, sweetie. Stroke your lips again – and part them slightly for me. I want you to think of my kiss. Touching you gently just like that. So tender.

The night is young. We've got all night to make love. You are my darling girl. You will come for me in just a little bit. You will spread your legs so I can watch you – in a little bit. 

With your other hand, I want you to touch your breast. Again, sweetie, gently – gently for now – while you stroke your lips with your fingers – my kiss – and my hand now playing with your nipple.

I want you open your mouth just enough to slide you finger in over you bottom lip and gently touch your tongue. I want you stroke your tongue to get your finger tip wet, then carry this wetness out to your bottom lip so now, as you stoke your lip, it's moist. 

Reach just inside again to stroke your tongue. Get your finger tip wetter, dear, and stroke your lips – get them wet – take the wetness from your tongue to your lips and back again. Think of my kiss. Think of my tongue, gently exploring your lips. Gently exploring your mouth.

Are your nipples getting hard, sweetie? Play with them gently. Squeeze your nipples – first one, then the other. That's right.

Dip two fingers into your mouth to get them very wet and take that wetness now to your nipple. Play with it a little bit and cup your breast in your hand. Squeeze gently and slide your hand over the curve of your breast. 

You are beautiful, darling. I love these shapes – the curve of your breast – the curve of your neck – the curve of your hip – the curve of your leg where it meets the curve of your sweet cunnie lips. Your sweet, wet cunnie. Wet and warm and beautiful.

Dip the two fingers back into your mouth again. Get them very wet and take that wetness now to your other nipple. Play with that nipple and cup your breast in your hand. Squeeze it gently and slide your hand over the curve of that breast too. Yes – and slide your hand over your belly – another lovely shape.

I adore these shapes and the way they reflect the soft light of your room. The shadows and highlights reveal these contours made of your flesh and defined by your soft skin. I adore sliding my hands over these shapes. I want to possess them – just for these moments we are together. I want to own their femininity.

Now – lift your hand back to your mouth – back to stroke your lips again. Back to dip your fingers into your mouth, wetting your lips, stroking your tongue. My kiss. And while you touch your lips, touch your breasts with your other hand. Touch your breasts and slide your hand over your belly – and low – below your navel. My caress.

Reach more deeply into your mouth, darling. Turn your hand over so your palm is up and you can reach your finger to touch to roof of your mouth. It's ticklish. Stroke it with you fingertip. Stroke behind your front teeth. So sensitive. 

Play with your nipples just the way you like it, sweetie. Stroke, pinch, tease. That's right. And now, sweetie – now be a dear and spread your legs so I can see your pussy.

Slide both hands along the insides of your legs. Slide your hands – gently – up over your pussy lips, up over your belly and back down. I want you to gently part your pussy lips – I want you to give me a little peek – let me glimpse your cunnie – pink, sweet.

I'm untying my robe. I'm opening it slightly. You can see the pale skin of my chest – hairless – and, as I open the robe more, you can see the red-blonde hair – there – above my groin, still in shadow. But you know what's there, beginning to swell, beginning to stiffen – getting ready for your touch. You know my cock is there. You know my balls are there below it. You know what they taste like. You know how they feel.

Dip your finger tip between your pussy lips, darling. Tease yourself. Stroke you clitoris gently now. Make yourself very wet.

With your other hand, reach back to your mouth. Slide two fingers inside and suck them. Caress your fingers with your tongue while you tease your clitty. My darling. My sweetheart.

You are so inviting sucking your fingers like that. You are so sexy. I can't wait to feel your lips caress my cock. I can't wait to feel you suck me.

Stroke your fingers out of your mouth and back in – feeling your tongue, feeling your lips. Wet, warm. You taste so delicious – your kisses are like pink mimosa flowers on an early summer night. Perfumed and heady.

The fragrance of your pussy is starting to caress my face while you play with your clitoris. Slide you finger down and dip it into you cunnie now, my pet. Spread you legs a little wider, baby – I want to watch you.

I want you to squirm seductively for me. That's it. Show me how you'll make love to me. I love that look in your eyes. I love the expression on your face. You are excited and ready for me.

My cock has grown hard now. You can see it standing where I'm stroking it slowly with my fingers – very gently – barely touching. It will feel large in your mouth when you take it in. It will taste the slightest bit musky – and clean – and the taste of pre-come – salty – the thought of these things now – makes your pussy wetter.

My cock will slide into your mouth while you suck it. It is hot in your mouth when you take it in. You will make it harder and wet. You will make me want you even more.

You are so beautiful. Your legs are spread open. I can see your pussy. It will be so sweet to slide my hard cock into your slick, velvet grip. Squirm for me, darling. Like a slow, seductive dance. Show me how you'll move under my weight as you fuck me. Show me how you will please me. Stroke your clitty. Show me.

I want you so badly. You are so pretty and so inviting. I want to taste you. I want to kiss you – there – where your leg joins you pussy lip – right there. A tender kiss. A tender nibble while I stroke the inside of your legs.

I will push your legs wide open – with my strong hands – wide open while I kiss your pussy – and nuzzle my mouth between the lips – there – where your fingers are playing – there – wet, warm, sweet. Soon I will have you. But you will come for me first.

My cock is hard and I'm stroking it while you watch me. It's long and thick. You can see the veins swollen, pumping the blood that has made it stand so ready to take you. My hand is slowly moving along it. It will stretch you wonderfully as it pierces your willing body. 

I need some wetness so I can stroke my cock harder. Perhaps your saliva, darling so I can stroke it hard.

Play with your clitty, darling. I want you to come for me while you watch me stroke myself. Squirm and play with your clitty. I know you know just what to do to make yourself come. Come on, baby. Rise up – quickly now. Urgent now.

Think about how I suck your clitoris. Gentle at first then harder. Think of how good I make you feel. Think of how you squeal for me when I bite you.

I'm stroking myself harder, but I'm going to wait for you. Think of my cock – my hard cock – I'm stroking it – getting it ready for you. Do you want it now, darling? Are you ready for me?

Are you ready to feel my weight press you down into your bed? My cock just at your pussy lips, sliding along them as I begin to push – working them open, looking for the opening – now finding it – pushing in – just the tip – then out again – flirting with you.

I kiss your mouth. I thrust. I slip into you easily. I stretch you open. Time to fuck you, my love. Spread wide.

Play hard now, darling. Think of me fucking you so deep and so hard. I'm holding you strong and sure. You are mine, little girl. My cock thrusts tell you so. They make it so. Come on, baby, squirm under my weight. Give it to me.

Look at me stroking my cock, sitting on the chair. Spread your legs wide open. Show me how you do it. Show me how you make yourself come.

Come for me, baby. Think of my fucking you now. Watch me stroking my cock. Wet, glistening.

I'm going to come soon. You will watch the cream leap from my cock's tip. You know what it smells like. You know how it tastes. You know how to swallow it as it pumps deep in your throat. You want to feel its heat inside your pussy. My come deep inside you.

My come lives in you afterward – it lives for days. You carry my life inside you after we've fucked. So make me come. Come on, baby – come for me. 

Come for me. Come now. I'm almost there. Come on, baby. Come now.

Now. Come now. No – really – come now, little girl. For real – come now. Give it to me for real – right now.

Say it while you come. Say it – I love you, Daddy. For real, sweetie – say it... I love you Daddy.

Now.

Now.

Good girl.

Say it again. Say it – I love you, Daddy. For real, sweetie – say it... I love you Daddy.

Come now.

Now.

Now.

Squeeze hard. Enjoy it, baby. Come hard for me. That's it. That's it.

Now.

Now.

Watch now – watch the come shoot from my cock. I call your name. I love you, baby. I'm stroking hard – squeezing – milking every drop. It's flowing – hot and slippery. I'm still stroking and squeezing it now. Pumping it. Pumping it.

My darling baby girl. 

You give me such pleasure listening to your voice. Listening to your words urging me on. Now it's been my turn – it's been my turn to urge you – to make you come for me.

My sweet little girl.

My darling baby.

My own little girl.

My pet.

You have come hard and long. You pick up the phone and dial. I answer.

"Daddy, that was so wonderful. What a nice thing to do for me."

You hear me breathing hard. You know just what to do.

"Oh – oh my wonderful bad, bad Daddy. Come for me, Daddy. You're right here with me. Fuck your little girl. Come in my pussy, Daddy. Come in my soft, warm pussy. It's yours. All yours, baby. Fuck me, Daddy."

You hear me groan quietly – you know I'm going to come. "Daddy, I want to come with you. Come now."

I whisper, "Yes, darling." You hear me groan. "I'm coming."

"Good Daddy. Fuck your little girl." And you come too. Hard. You scream, "Daddy! Daddy! I love you, Daddy!"



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 15



Midnight Ride

You are in the special basement room. The house is quiet. It's later the same night I am away. You are wearing your heavy silk kimono and you are still horny and dying to play long and hard.

You were missing me so badly that you couldn't sleep despite the whiskey and the phone sex with your little girl-friend and then with me. The last thing I had said before our good-nights as we reluctantly hung up the phone was "Darling, if you can't sleep and you're too curious to wait, you may go down to your play-room. There's a new toy there for my beautiful little girl."

I knew you'd be too curious to wait. You knew I knew -- and you had lain in my bed tossing and turning until you couldn't stand it anymore. You had gotten up, pulled your new heavy silk kimono around your shivering frame, grabbed the bottle of whiskey and the crystal glass from the bed table and stolen silently down the back stairs as if you were committing a naughty sin. You hurried through the dark basement rooms to the door that led into that room -- the one I called your play room. The large heavy door creaked slightly as it opened.

The smell of old incense blew into your face as the door cracked open, and you pushed it slowly inward. The air was very warm -- in contrast to the rest of the basement. The faintest bit of moonlight was filtering in the two windows high up on the exterior walls. You closed the door behind you.

You could feel the moistness between your legs and you knew it was because of the associations you were forming with this room. Your heart was beating a little fast. You knew that your body was reacting in part according to how I was training you to react.

You knew that this training was establishing these associations. It was being done to you slowly, patiently, carefully, undeniably. You knew that I had triggered these events by mentioning a new toy. You knew I had compelled you to discover the toy and so you would feel how you were submitting to me -- even in my absence -- submitting to my will. 

The knowledge made you feel dizzy and excited and your pussy gushed. You knew that even that was a symptom of your submission. In this moment you felt my embrace.

Now you reach for the candle where you know it will be, there on the shelf by the door with the little match box. You strike the match, light the candle, and the large room comes into view.

There is the chaise lounge behind the huge one-way mirror on its wheeled frame.

There is something new behind the mirror -- a very fancy tripod with a professional video camera -- and you see it's red light starting to blink. A motion sensor has started the camera. You can see its cord running across the floor and up the far wall. You know you will be recorded. You find the prospect exciting.

There, now to the side, is your play-chair with its steel seat and pan underneath, the very sight of which thrills you. 

There, before the mirror on a bed of thick sheepskins, is an object under a crimson satin cloth with a wide wine red bow. It is about three feet long and maybe a foot and a half high -- like a longish low box under the cloth. And all around the sheepskins are candles of all shapes and sizes, waiting to be lit.

You take the lit candle from the shelf. You cross the room and stand above the object. On top of the object is a small gold box with a note. Setting the bottle and glass carefully on the sheepskins, you turn your attention to lighting the candles -- all of them -- you know that's what I intended you to do.

You come back and kneel on the sheepskins beside the object. You pour a glass of whiskey to drink while you read the note -- my personal stationary -- a linen envelope sealed with burgundy wax.

You smile at the sheer romance of it. You know that I knew you would like it. You know that this is why I did it. You feel loved and cherished. You sip the whiskey. My whiskey. You remember that you are being watched. You open the envelope.

"My Darling. I love you so dearly and I'm sorry I can't be there with you tonight. I know you will not be able to resist coming down here to play,, my curious, naughty little kitten -- Konekochan. I got you these things to explore while I'm away. Please enjoy yourself, my love. You'll be in my arms again soon. Love, Daddy"

Your heart flutters and you caress the page with your fingetips.

The little gold box contains golden nipple clamps -- but these have little teeth and are spring loaded -- not terribly strong springs, but firm. And the clamps have weights on short chains that will dangle down when they're on. There is a gold locket on a gold chain. The locket has little pin-holes all over it. It feels heavy.

You immediately put on the locket, then, shedding the robe from your shoulders, first for the left then for the right, you open each clamp and put them on your nipples. They are strong and they pinch. They bite you with their little teeth -- almost but not quite breaking the tender flesh. They are wonderful, nasty little things and the slight pain is perfect. 

The locket rests over your heart; smooth, warm, heavy.

Another sip of whiskey. Your pussy is getting very warm.

You slowly lift the satin cloth with its bow off the object.

It is a half-cylinder lying on its side so that it arches away from the floor -- kind of like a saddle -- and in the middle of the top is a separate surface with two phallus-like appendages -- a larger one in front, a smaller one in back -- sticking up. In front of these cocks is a ridged lump. There is a long cord with a small control box at the end with a couple dials and switches. 

The object looks like a strange machine. You flick the switch. The machine hums to life, the cocks tilting and screwing in a circular motion and the surface vibrating wickedly.

You can see its purpose. You are to sit on the machine. You are to slide the front phallus into your cunnie and the rear one -- "OH! Oh my!" you speak to the room. You know you are to take that one into your asshole. 

You experiment with the controls. You turn down the controls so the cocks are barely rotating and their circles are very small and the vibrations are completely off. You pour more whiskey to fill the little glass. You take a gulp and, as it hits your head, you giggle and reach for the small bottle of lube right there next to the naughty machine. Right there where you know I left it for you.

You glance at your reflection in the mirror. There you are. The beautiful girl kneeling beside the naughty machine. You can't see the camera, but you can see its red light blink through the one-way. You watch yourself as you lubricate the machine's cocks. You watch yourself as you, holding your whiskey glass, your robe off your shoulders and hanging in the bend of your arms, step over and lower yourself onto the machine. You aim the forward cock between your pussy lips and you squirm slightly as you begin to work it in. But suddenly, there's the other cock at your asshole and you begin to flirt with it.

You are excited by it. You are remembering when I took your asshole last week. You are remembering to relax as you squirm on it. You feel it stretching you as it slips in.

It is delicious. Down, slowly down onto the cocks, sliding them in as you involuntarily open your mouth feeling your ass so wickedly violated. You squeal as you lower yourself all the way.

You are sitting on the machine with your legs spread wide. Your knees are off the ground so your full weight has come to bear on the cocks and on the little ridged lump in front -- your pussy lips are spread open and the ridges are right against you clitoris. Your ass is stretched open and it makes you feel completely slutty. You are panting.

You sip your whiskey. You shudder with pleasure. You remember the controls.

Holding the controls in your left hand, your glass in your right, you turn on the machine. You feel the slight movement in your cunnie and ass. You gasp. You turn on the vibrator. You gasp louder. You begin to squirm slightly and rhythmically... beginning to warm to the machine's cycles.

You look up.

There you are -- a wanton beauty reflected in the mirror. You are holding your glass. You are holding the controls. Your hair cascades over your shoulders and down your back. Your breasts are naked and the clamps are pulled down by the weights. As you sway to the machine's urging the weights are swaying too, pulling marvelously on your nipples. Their swaying is remarkably erotic to watch. The camera is watching you.

All the time you feel the relentless stretch in your ass. You feel the larger cock filling your pussy. You feel the vibrations massaging your clitty.

You sip your whiskey and just as you swallow, you are suddenly wracked by an orgasm that takes you by storm. You manage to hold onto the glass, the amber liquid sloshing onto your fingers, but you left hand slips on the controls, pushing them up.

The machine truly whirrs to life. You are shocked by the cocks now truly screwing you -- massaging your cunt and asshole evilly, stretching the membranes between them in an irresistible way just as you are recovering from your orgasm. The vibrations are shaking your pelvis. You groan. 

You look at yourself in the mirror. Your mouth is open. You moan louder. Your body is swaying as you ride the machine. The weights on the nipple clamps are swinging as you ride pulling your breasts into a whorishly erotic swaying -- back and forth -- side to side. And the locket -- the locket has begun to leak a fragrant oil which had been congealed inside but is now being melted by your body heat and is slowly oozing from its pinhole pores.

The oil has a musky perfume -- intoxicating you further -- and it is trickling down your belly, down your lower abdomen -- over the edge of your groin -- down between your pussy lips, over your clitoris. It is hot. It is like fire. It feels amazingly good. 

You raise your glass and drain it down just as your next orgasm strikes. And you arch back and scream.

You drop the glass -- good thing for the thick, soft sheepskins. You drop the controls and as they bounce, they ratchet up to a new, higher level.

You squeal. The machine is now pushing you to that place -- that wonderful moment of total surrender. You shed the robe off your arms. With every swing, the nipple clamps are biting you exquisitely. You look in the mirror and you see droplets of red -- your blood -- where they are biting you deeper and deeper now that you are riding so hard. The camera is recording your every move.

The sight pushes you over the edge. You scream over and over. The heating, fragrant oil running down from the locket to your cunny, the sight of your nipples bitten so hard they're now dripping blood, the insistent dildos screwing your cunt and asshole, the ridges rubbing you clitoris mercilessly -- all these things drive you over the edge and you wail -- 

"Daddy! Oh, God, Daddy! I love you! I belong to you, Daddy." And you come so hard you see stars. You search for the controls down below you. There they are. But too late -- you scream again...

"Daddy! Daddy! Oh thank you, Daddy! I'm yours, my Daddy."

Stars again.

You lean dangerously forward and grab the controls. You turn them off. You sit, impaled on the machine's cocks and look up at your reflection. The magical oil trickling down, arousing you again, the little droplets of blood dripping from your nipples -- hot, searing.

You reach down for the bottle and the glass. You pour. Then you turn the machine back on low.

You look into the camera. "God, you know me well, Daddy." 

It's time for a nice, long, ride.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 16



Daddy's Home

As I stepped inside, you came around the corner from the living room to greet me. I had just set down my guitar case. You threw your arms around my neck, jumped up and wrapped your legs around my waist – coat and all. You buried your nose in my neck and breathed deep. You sighed, "Daddy."

I held you there – we kissed – so deep and long. Your face was wet with your tears as you slowly let your bare feet come back to the floor. You were beaming as you unbuttoned my coat, helped me off with my scarf. You got up on your tip–toes to kiss me again as you giggled and prattled about this and that – your day – school – and you untied my tie, loosened my collar. I felt good to be home.

You immediately took my hand and lead me upstairs. You opened the door to my bedroom and lifted off your dress. You stood naked before me as you kissed me. You had made a fire in the fireplace. You had placed your glass of Pino Noir on the bed table, waiting for you.

I marveled at your beauty. Your hair was tied up so I could see your neck and shoulders – graceful, alluring. Your breasts, full and shapely, but not large – perfect to my eye. Your erect nipples bore the marks of your new nasty little toys – the sharp little nipple–clamps I had given you.

I played with your nipples gently as we kissed again. "Did you like your new clamps, little girl?"

"Yes, sir, I did. Very much."

"Did they make my Konekochan come hard?"

"Yes, sir, very, very hard. They made me bleed a little, sir."

"Yes, darling. Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes – it seems strange, but I – I liked it. It made me feel very submissive, Daddy."

"Good girl."

I pinched them gently and you took in your breath sharply.

"Sore, baby?"

"Yes – but it's just right."

"Good. I'm glad."

I slid my hand down your belly. So smooth and muscular. So perfect. I lifted you onto the bed, kissing you all the time.

And so you sat on its edge as I pushed your legs apart and began to play with your pussy lips.

You said, "I think I'm kind of bruised a bit, Sir. I rode my new toy for a very long time."

"I see, dear. And did you like it?"

"Oh, Daddy, yes. I loved it. It was very extreme. I had gotten a little drunk, otherwise I don't know if I could have taken the dildo in my – you know – my ass." 

I played with your clitoris – so silky, wet, warm, swollen. You began to breathe harder and faster. I dipped my finger into your cunnie, pressuring the top of the opening just like you like it. Then back to your clitoris again, lifting you toward blissful release.

"Oh – – – Oh – – Oh, Daddy. Please, may I come?" I knew I had you on the edge.

"No, Darling, not yet. Wait like a good girl."

You whimpered and purred. You squealed and danced lightly on my fingers. "Daddy – please."

"No, no. Not now, my little love." And I stopped stroking you. You were shivering. You were so close that if you had squeezed your legs together and squirmed a bit, you would have come.

I held you firmly by the waist as I kissed you. You continued to breathe hard and fast. You wanted to come so badly. But you slowly came back to earth – horny and frustrated and ready to explode. You sat on the edge of the bed with your legs spread wantonly. You pussy lips were wet and shiny.

"Good girl."

"Daddy, this isn't fair. I've waited so patiently for you to come home."

"Yes, sweetie."

"Daddy, I want you to make me come – all night. I want to fuck you, Daddy." You had taken on an adorable little pleading tone. Like a little girl trying to wrap her daddy around her finger. I smiled.

"Yes, Darling. And you will. All night, I promise."

I handed you your glass of wine and you sipped, watching me as I slowly took my clothes off. I could feel your excitement rise. "But for now, you must wait, darling."

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl"

I took my time. I filled your empty glass. I stood naked by the bed, my cock, rock hard. I reached between your legs again and began to play very, very gently – teasing, barely touching. You were holding your full glass and, soon, breathing hard again.

"Don't come, darling – wait."

You began to whimper quietly. I knew it was difficult for you to hold back.

I stopped. It was time.

Now I say – "Get onto the bed, darling. Kneel in the middle facing the foot – careful not to spill – that's a good girl."

I climb into bed behind you, sitting against the headboard with pillows propping me up comfortably. I have a perfect view of you kneeling, back facing me. You are slender but shapely and incredibly beautiful. Your skin is dark and luxurious. Your hair, tied up in its pony-tail, is long and wavy. You are sipping your wine.

"You are beautiful, darling."

You begin to sway your hips seductively, doing a subtle dance on your knees before me.

"Do you want your little girl, Daddy?"

"Oh yes, I do, darling."

"Do you like what you see?"

"You know I do, my love."

"I belong to you, Daddy."

I smile. "Yes, you do."

You are getting good at this. You know what buttons to push. I like that. You drain your glass of wine.

"May I have another glass, Daddy?"

"Yes, my dear."

You hold your glass to the side, I reach the bottle on the table and pour. I pick up the TV remote.

We rarely watch TV in bed. Once in a while, we've watched an old movie huddled with our arms around each other. It's a projection system. The large screen slowly lowers from the high ceiling, unrolling. Soft music. 

You are continuing to sway on your knees before me, but now in rhythm to the music. You are subtly dancing for me. It is wonderfully seductive and I know you are excited by it too; excited knowing I'm watching you.

The projector comes to life. The image is of you as you began to ride your new toy in the basement two nights ago – at the point you had gotten the hang of it. You are riding it slowly. You are stretching and arching you back. You are squirming as the dildos screw your pussy and ass. Your breasts are swaying, tugged by the weighted pendulums hanging from your erect and deeply bitten nipples. The locket is clearly leaking its magic oil down your belly. Your voice is clearly recorded, moaning, whimpering, calling my name in the throes of your ecstasy.

The sight makes you shiver.

"You bad Daddy."

"You knew I was recording your little naughty foray, didn't you, darling?"

"Yes, yes – but I had no idea how – how – slutty I am." You giggle.

"Darling, I want you to move backward on the bed – come over me so you can sit on my lap."

Still kneeling, mesmerized by the image of yourself on the screen, holding your glass, you crawl backward 'till my legs are between yours. You kneel there, still dancing in front of me.

You feel me slide my fingers, wet with lube, between your hips. You feel me getting your ass wet and slippery. And then, holding your waist, I gently pull you back and down – and with a little adjustment – I position my hard cock right at the opening of your sweet, tight, little ass-hole. 

"Take me in, little girl. Now you may fuck your daddy."

"Oh – oh, my God, Daddy."

You are in a delightful predicament. The wine has warmed you. The video with its presentation of your own voice – your sighs and cries – your orgasms over and over – the memory of the machine's relentless fucking is incredibly erotic. It has made you even more wet and eager. Now you have to balance your glass. You have to let your weight down slowly. You have to relax you ass. I am holding you by the waist, pulling ever so slightly. The moment is delicious for me and you are lost in it now. 

My cock is much bigger than the dildo you rode two nights ago. It's stretching you wickedly, but it feels so naughty and sexy. It is a hot, hard kiss against your ass–hole's tight opening and you are so excited from my teasing you before. You are beginning to shake. I know you are going to come now. I take the glass from you – I want you to be able to really let go.

And just as the head of my cock slips suddenly past your tight sphincter, you do let go – wildly – screaming as you finally come – forgetting to ask permission. Enveloped in your orgasm, you loose control and sit all the way down, taking my cock deep into your ass. You scream again – the orgasm is long and hard and all consuming.

"You are my delicious little submissive and I love you so much."

"Ooooooh – – Ooooh – Daddy," and you scream my name as you come again hard. "God, I love you, Daddy."

Now, impaled on my cock, your hands on the bed, you begin to grind your ass against my cock, fucking me.

"Daddy – I never knew I could come from my ass being fucked. But it's so, so naughty – and so, so very good."

You pick up the pace. I can see you're watching the video.

"My God, Daddy, I'm such a slut in the video." You are breathing hard as you fuck me.

"You are my beautiful girl, darling. Open up and come for me again. Work me, sweetie – take your pleasure from my cock."

And you do. You are fucking me hard now. You are riding me expertly with the motion you learned from riding the new toy in your playroom downstairs. You are completely lost in the moment, but you are also remembering the screwing you got – it's impossible to forget because you are bruised and sore and the slight pain is enriching the pleasure of the experience. 

It is wonderful to watch you, your abdomen flexing, your back arching, your hips sliding back and forth against my lap, my cock deep in your blood-hot ass. You are sweating and it is beginning to drip down your back. So hot – so hot.

My cock has stretched you and that stretch is tugging on your sore pussy lips as you slide – as you work to receive your reward. Your clitoris is so swollen and excruciatingly sensitive from my teasing you and from your orgasm that the motion of fucking me, my cock tugging on your flesh, is making you ache. You want to come so badly. It is a delicious hard, deep, sexy, slow fuck.

From my position, propped up on pillows behind you, I reach around you and begin to stroke the insides of your thighs – gently at first – then stronger, digging my fingers into the soft, sensitive flesh. It urges you on. 

Your ride goes on for twenty minutes or so. Every stroke is so sweet and naughty all at the same time... my hands – sometimes on your waist, pulling and pushing you gently as you rock back and forth – then sometimes between your legs, gripping you, controlling you.

I reach further down and gently stroke your pussy lips. They are dripping wet. You are moaning. I spread them with my fingers, but I don't touch your clitoris.

I tell you, "I want you to work for release. I want it to come from my cock in your ass, not your clitty. It will be on my terms. You will submit to me yet again."

"Yeeessss. Oh – oooh yesssss."

Each time you submit, you are becoming more acclimated to it – to being mine. And you know it. You can feel it.

"That's my baby girl. That's my little baby. Submit to me now. Give yourself to me."

"Yeesss, Daddy. Oooooh, oh, yessss."

"Give yourself to me completely now, my little love."

Your heart is filled with emotion. You are more and more aware of my hands, my cock, my guiding you, pushing you. My subtle movements are going to make you come. And now I firmly grip your bruised pussy lips and I stretch them wide open. As you rock and fuck, you are tugging against this grip. It hurts perfectly, blending with your lust.

And indescribably, in that moment especially, you know to the depth of your being – you can feel that I love you.

Your eyes tear up. You suddenly sob, "I love you, Daddy. I love you soooo much." You are panting and crying and sqealing with pleasure all at the same time.

"I love you too, my darling. Now, be a good little submissive and do as I say."

"Yes, Sir." In your building urgent excitement, your rhythm picks up slightly.

"Soon you will come for me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir,"

"Good girl. When you do, you will call my name."

"Oh, yes, Sir. I love you so much." You are breathless now – almost there.

"You will come very soon."

"Yes, Sir. Very, very soon."

"I love you, little girl."

"Oh, Daddy, I love you soooo muuuch. Pleeease, pleeeeease. I have to come nooooow."

"Good girl. Come now." Your doppelganger – the girl in the video having reached another peak – and you scream loudly together. You spasm, you almost lose control of yourself, shaking hard, screaming. Screaming my name. It's a long orgasm and I grasp your waist now firmly and urge you to continue riding me.

My cock is being wonderfully fucked. I am now rapidly climbing – "I'm going to come in you, my little plaything."

"Yes, Daddy, come in your little bitch. Give it to your little girl. Give it to me, Daddy. Make me your pet."

I groan. I come hard, pushing deep into you, holding you close. You are tight and hot inside. You squirm to increase my pleasure as I pump my sperm into your sweet, tight ass.

"My darling baby! My little girl." In the video, you are still riding the machine, sweating, screaming again.

Here, in my bed, you milk my cock with your body. You grind down. You purposely tighten your muscles to grip me hard and tight.

"Oh, oh – – oh – – Daddy – – my Daddy – – oh." 

You ease down bending forward, away from me, your head near my ankles, you breasts against my legs, your buttocks facing me. I can see my cock still stretching your ass. It is a raw pornographic view. You are panting still.

You reach for the remote and turn down the volume, still panting to catch your breath. My still-hard cock is impaling you. It is wonderful to feel me inside. You wipe your tears away.

You squeeze your ass around my cock as you lift yourself off. You squeal as it slips out.

You turn and crawl slowly over me to kiss me long and deep – over and over. 

Then, with our noses almost touching, you look deep into my eyes for a minute – or a year.

You whisper, "I love you."

"I love you too, little girl."

"I know you do, Daddy. I can tell."

You kiss me again. "Daddy – that was wonderful. Please, let's do it again soon."

I put my arms around your shoulders. "As often as you like."

"And I really like the way you play with me so hard. It makes it so intense."

"I'm glad, darling. I want you to feel good. I love you."

You sigh. You smile. You tear up and cry gently. "It's so wonderful, Daddy. I'm so glad you're home."

I kiss you tenderly again and again – you are on your hands and knees facing me. "You are a very good little submissive, my love."

"I want to be everything you want, Daddy."

"I only want you to be exactly who and what you are. You are all I want, my little girl."

I dry your tears and you smile, "Let's wash up a bit, Daddy. I'll make you supper now. Then you can fuck your little girl's pussy all night long."

I smile.

"Good girl."

You giggle. "Bad Daddy."



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 17



Afternoon Tea

At Thanksgiving, we had feasted – by ourselves. Next day there were turkey sandwiches and watching stupid TV in bed, there was bathing together. You began reading Anna Karenina stretched out on your belly in bed – your silver glasses perched on your nose, your head toward the bed's foot, your kimono draped over your lovely shoulders and back and your legs bent up at the knees. I played my guitar and scribbled lyrics on the three yellow legal pads I always keep handy for the purpose. We had napped. We had kissed, stroking each others arms, backs. You turned back to your reading.

You still had a few classes left and then exams and then winter break. 

"Sweetie, are you staying here for Christmas or will you be going away?"

You looked up from your book, "I'll be staying here, Daddy. This is my home now."

I had smiled. "Of course. I'm glad, Darling. – Sweetie –"

"Yes, Sir."

"I'd like you to move from your little room in the servant's wing to the room next to mine here – the one that connects through that door. Would you like that?"

You looked up from your book. You paused. "Ok, Daddy. Yes. Can I see the room next door here?"

"Of course, sweetie."

We got up and went to the tall door and opened it. You stepped through into a lovely, airy room. As light and feminine as my room is dark and masculine. The fireplace was smaller and made of light green marble with a stuffed chair and footstool before it. There were huge bay windows with a window seat all around. Two high backed chairs flanked a small table. There was a big canopy bed with fine linens and blankets and afghans and big comfy pillows. There was an old-fashioned vanity with an etched mirror and lace skirt, a tall wardrobe and two chests of drawers, and an old trunk at the foot of the bed. You ran to the bathroom door – your own claw-foot bathtub.

All the colors were light. The room was fresh. I was a girl's dream come true.

"Daddy, it's lovely."

You ran to the window and knelt on the window seat looking out. It had begun to snow. The first snow of the year. You could see across the valley to the campus on the opposite hill. You could see it in the yard and bushes below. Snow.

You turned back to me. I was smiling at you. "Daddy, whose room was this?"

You saw the shock on my face. How foolish of me. Of course you would want to know. It was an innocent, natural question. I had been so wrapped up in us that I hadn't thought that far. Without thinking, I lifted my had to my brow. I must have looked pained.

You leapt up and came to me. "Daddy, never mind. Never mind."

I took your hand in mine. "No – it's OK, baby. I – I just forgot about it – I mean I've been so wrapped up in you and me..."

"OK, Daddy. It's OK. You don't have to tell me." You gently touched my face.

I smiled. You had taken away my pain. I could at least tell you a bit of the story – the rest could wait. "It was my grandmother's mother's and then, later on, it was my grandmother's. My grandmother was quite a character. You already have her glasses, why not stay in her room?"

You slowly and gently wrapped your arms around me. "Sure, Daddy, sure. I'd love to. It's right next to yours – which is really more like ours kind-of." You snuggled your face against my neck.

I stroked your curls. I held you close.

"Daddy, I know there were other women who lived here too. I can feel them in this room. They were good. They'll keep me company. Let's make tea and have it together here in my room."

I was relieved – you had let me off the hook. I knew you were being kind to me. "Thank you, little girl. That would be wonderful."

You took my hand and lead me to the kitchen. You made us tea and a plate of scones. We carried them upstairs and sat in your window. We watched the snow falling harder over the hill. Everything was being turned white. The world was soft and beautiful.

The tea was hot. We were silent together. It was a perfect moment. You began to feel as if you were living it in slow motion, in high relief. You felt full and still.

You marveled at how easy it was to be silent together – no need to speak – no awkwardness – no need to fill the gap with chatter. We finished our tea. You put down your cup and smiled and took my hand.

You lead me to your new bed. You took off your kimono. You undressed me. You pulled me into bed and under the covers. These were all perfect moments slowly unfolding just as they should be.

Now we are in your new bed. The linen sheets are smooth. Inexplicably, you feel as if you belong right here in this bed. It is familiar. It belongs to you and you belong to it. Even its smell – mild lavender – reminds you of something – a something that seems just out of reach.

You feel your body move languidly against me with a sense of watching it both from slight separation and yet immediacy. With your hand behind my head, you pull me to your kiss. Very, very gently; you nibble my lips. You tenderly press you tongue between them and begin to explore my mouth.

Your body shivers. You feel my cock growing hard. Now it's rock hard.

You curl you fingers and gently scratch my chest, coming back to gently play with my nipples while you bite my neck.

My hand slides across your breast, beginning to play with you. Your nipple is hard and as I roll it between my fingers, as I stroke it, and then cup your breast, squeezing gently, you sigh.

I kiss you assertively. I take your tongue into my mouth and suck it as we kiss deeply.

You are playing with my hair. Soft, fine, blonde hair woven through your fingers. You gaze into my hazel eyes as you kiss me. You are stroking the roof of my mouth with the tip of your tongue just behind my front teeth. I taste like me. It's become so familiar so quickly. And the sound of my breath through my nose as we kiss – and its feel against your cheek – you feel like these things, these subtleties belong to you. That sound I make – the little hum that means I'm enjoying your love-making – it belongs to you too.

I am playing with your breasts while you play with mine. I'm stroking your nipples and you are stroking mine too.

Now you break our kiss and kiss and nibble your way down to my breast. You take my nipple into your mouth and bite and suck. My small nipple is sensitive. I slowly inhale. You know I'm enjoying your touch.

My fingers are woven in your curls, but gently; just gently holding you while you suck me. And you return to kiss my mouth, biting and sucking my neck on your way back up.

Then it's my turn, cupping your breast, lifting it to my mouth, taking your nipple between my teeth, now beginning to suck you. I press your nipple against the back of my front teeth with my tongue and squeeze. It brings a rush of arousal and you shift against me. You slide your hand down and stroke the back of my neck and my shoulders.

I shift to your other breast. My touch is warm and gentle, but now I bite you. It is sharp. It's just what you wanted. You feel your cunnie, which has been getting wetter and wetter, suddenly gush. You take in your breath. I squeeze you breast harder with my hand. I return to kissing your mouth. 

The sense that the moments are perfect – this is pervading everything – our kisses, our touches, the tastes, smell, sounds. And the emotion burning in your chest, warming you, driving you now – this young, blossoming rose – this love is also perfect. You know it. You know it so deeply and so surely and sweetly – you feel it was meant to be – all of it – perfectly.

You nuzzle my neck as you slide your hand down to touch my hard cock. You feel my breath warm against your face. I kiss your forehead as you gently stroke my erection, barely touching it, teasing me. The skin is soft and smooth. The ridge at the edge of its head is well defined. You know this well. You lick your lips unconsciously, remembering its familiarity – that sweet ridge as it slides past your lips.

You gently wrap your fingers around my cock. It's warm as you squeeze it. You feel me squirm slightly. It feels good to know you are pleasing me. It adds to your excitement and you stroke me gently again, your finger tips barely touching, stroking along its length.

I cup your breast again and we kiss. Now our mouths press together hard. It's wonderful. I gently pinch your nipples again. You are wet and ready and you feel my hand slowly sliding down your belly, down over your abdomen, down over your trimmed hair, down over the tip of your pussy.

The slowness of my reach is luxurious. I slide my hand back to your breast, caress your nipple again and repeat the slow reach down, down to your pussy and this time, I gently stroke the lips with my finger tips.

You squeeze my cock again while I play with you. Our kiss is deep and intense. Our play is imbued with that sense of perfection. On a level, it still seems like everything is in slow motion – it's got that intensity about it – that sense of purpose.

And now you pull me on top of you, spreading your legs and curling your back just right – bringing your cunnie to the tip of my cock. Our mouths are still joined. You squirm to work the tip of my cock between your pussy lips. Time slows. It stands still for an instant – for a perfect instant.

Your arms are around my back. Your legs are spread wide. You feel my weight on you. You taste my kiss, breath the perfume of my male scent. You pussy is wet, slick, and you want me and I want you... you love me and I love you. You hear in your mind – like a faint whisper – "Be good to my beloved." You wonder. It was like a thought, but it felt as if it came from somewhere else. "Take him for me." The soft voice again. A woman's voice.

A perfect instant and then, a perfect thrust. I push into you full and hard. Your body yields and our heat comingles – the heat of my engorged member, the heat of your wet tunnel, and the heat of our passion. Three thrusts – fast, hard, deep – then slowly, slowly four more.

It is exquisite. I'm holding you hard, kissing you hard, thrusting hard. It feels so good. My weight pushing you into the bed while I fuck you – while I fuck you hard. Three fast, four slow – over and over.

You are squirming. It feels wonderful. Three fast, four slow.

The wetness is dripping from your cunny down toward your ass hole. Three fast, four slow.

You are breathing hard. You are rising. You are digging your fingers into the flesh of my back. You are kissing me and moaning. Three fast, four slow.

I slide my hand between us, down to stroke your clitty while I fuck you. You shiver and scratch me. Three fast, four slow.

I stroke you faster, harder while my cock is sliding in and out of your sweet pussy. Three fast, four slow.

I feel bigger. We break our kiss at last. You are moaning, riding me. Three fast, four slow.

You bury your face in my neck. You bite. My finger is playing with you fast and hard. You are ready. Three fast, four slow.

The inner whisper again, "Now, little one, for me. For me, dear little sister."

You spread so wide. As wide as you can to take me as deeply as possible while... Three fast, four slow.

...while you suck in your breath and feel the beginning of your spasms... Three fast, four slow.

... the spasms of your cunnie – of your hot, now urgent, now insistant cunt... Three fast, four slow.

...filled with me while my fingers drive you with perfection like a perfect flower opening, like Egyptian madder color - the ancient pigment of your love... Three fast, four slow.

...now exploding... exploding perfectly... you gasp.... filling you from your spine's tail to your crown... perfect orgasm... Three fast, four slow.

Then fast and hard and deep while you groan and I gasp. You feel it – you feel it – feel it through the waves of blissful release, the intimate connection, the first pump. And then the hot liquid inside you. It is my seed and you are aware of its life. You've been aware of this before – although less viscerally. But now, this snowy afternoon, in this perfect string of perfect moments – you are acutely aware of its life as I pump again and you come so deep and pump yet again, over and over.

You are holding me so tight. You wrap your legs around me to keep me right there. You feel your cervix pulsing right by the tip of my cock pressed hard against it.

Our mouths re-join. Hard, then tender. The soft nibbles again.

And in time, lots of quiet time, you look me in the eyes and speak at last - softly, but with a new sureness.

"I am your little girl, Daddy. I belong to you and you to me. Other women have lived here over many years, but now I live here. And this is my bed, Daddy. We will be together in it.

"Daddy, my darling, I'm not the woman who slept here and loved you before – the woman you didn't tell me about but I know is still here."

I open my mouth to speak. You put your hand over it.

You smile. "No, Daddy – it's OK – maybe you don't understand – I know you don't want me to replace her or to be her. I'm not her, of course... and yet... what I'm trying to say is that she and I are together now. I know it. She is so beautiful, Daddy. I can feel her all around and through me.

"Daddy, you have given me so much – maybe this is a thing I can do for you... maybe this is part of why I've come here – so I can take care of you for her – and for me – I know it sounds strange, but we love you so much. We will take good care of you."

You close your eyes. You hold me close. You feel me convulse with the sob I repress so expertly.

The snow is falling hard over the town. The buildings of the university, the cathedrals, the theater across the little valley – the other stately old homes on this hill – stand like chilled shadows in its soft hiss. The wind whistles and rattles the tall, wide windows. But it's warm here in your bed. We drift together. Peace and slumber take us gently. 

And just before you drift away, the inner whisper again, "Thank you." It is as if someone has caressed your heart with a warm light as it beats beneath your young breast.

I am asleep. You smile. You are so happy, you are glowing. You whisper aloud, but barely audibly, "I love you, too, big sister."



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 18



Just for You

My Dear Little Girl,

I want to write you a letter, dear. Wouldn't you like that?

I want to write you soft, private words just for you. Words like tender kisses on your eyes as you read them. Words that will caress you and make you long to tell me everything.

Are you done with your homework? Come, darling, make yourself comfortable again tonight. I'm working late in my studio but I'll be up to see you later on. Curl up in my bed for now. Slide your clothes off.

Be a good little bad girl and touch your breasts for me. Tease your nipples. Make them hard. In a little while you will come for me and when you do, you will call my name. But we have time. There's no hurry. Play with your sweet breasts, dear. Keep them warm until I can be there to touch you myself.

Think about my kisses. Think about the flavor of my breath. I'll be there soon to kiss you, but in the mean time; are you getting wet, my love? Slip your hand between your legs. Spread them open for me — those lovely strong legs that hold me so tight when I'm inside you. Spread them for me and slip your finger between you pussy lips. Stroke your clitoris gently. I'll be there soon, my love. I'll be there soon.

Gently caress your pussy lips. Very soft and tender. Like when I kiss you there as we begin. Like I kiss your sweet cunnie lips before I take you. So gentle. So warm. My breath on the inside of your legs as I spread you open.

Your fragrance is intoxicating me as you become excited. Your skin is so smooth. I love to run my hands up over your belly as I press more firmly — as I nuzzle you — spreading your pussy lips open with my lips so I can begin to suck your clitoris.

Your clitoris is becoming swollen as I encourage it with my mouth. I'm running my hands up the insides of your legs. I'm gripping your firmly at that muscle right there — right there on either side of your pussy lips. I'm gripping you firmly so you feel my strength.

The strength in my hands from the years of playing piano — the articulation of my fingers from years of caressing the strings. Let me bring that strength now to bear right here, holding you open so you can feel it — my strength — so it can thrill you as I hold you tight, as I suck you gently, as I caress your clitoris with my teeth.

Perhaps I'll bite you now. Gently for now. A nice little bite just hard enough. And then more tender sucking, holding your legs open right at their base, now also spreading your pussy lips open with my fingers.

I'm opening you like a flower. Petal by petal by petal. Layer of excitement by layer. Lifting you. My thumbs are pressing into the backs of your legs right at their base. I am thrilling you. And I take my left hand now — up to my mouth to get my fingers full of my saliva.

They need to be wet and slippery, my little love so I can transfer that wetness down below you sweet cunnie. Down across you tight ass hole. I'll get you slippery and wet while I softly work your clitoris with my tongue.

And now, my love, I will start to flirt with your ass hole. Teasing you. You are so excited my my sucking you. You are breathing hard and deep. Now let me slip inside. Relax just enough.

My finger slips into your ass and I begin to slowly work you. Stretching you and slipping in and out. I withdraw my finger so you can feel it slip back in. Over and over, my dear, while we take our time. There's no hurry.

Think of these things while you play with yourself. Think of my finger sliding into you. And now, my dear, think of how it feels when I work another finger into your tight ass hole. So sweet. So naughty.

I'll suck you harder now. I'm going to make you come. I'll stroke you a little harder. It won't take much more, you are so close.

Think of my bite. Think of my grip. Think of my fingers sliding in your ass hole. Now, my dear little girl, come for me. Come on, my little flower, I've opened you now. Come on, my darling, come for me for real.

There, in your room, homework all done, say my name as you come. You will write me a letter. You will tell me all about it. You will come for me now. My little love. Come for me, darling. Come.

You are so beautiful. You are so strong. You are my little muse, my inspiration. Please sing your heart to me, for tonight you are mine again — you are mine again as always. I will play your skin like fire. I will write your name in the sky. My little girl. My own little love.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 19



Shopping Trip

It was night. You were sitting in the library at your desk. You were staring at your laptop. You Tube.

It was your page. You had posted childhood pictures last year. It seemed so far away.

There was a picture of you sitting on the front steps of a neat, brick suburban house. An adorable little eight year old you in a powder blue sweater, jeans, matching blue sneaks grinning shyly at the camera – mountains in the distance. There was the picture of you – eleven – summertime – standing with your bicycle by a water fountain in the park - a statue of Bhudda behind you. And there was the picture of you at fourteen opening presents on Christmas morning in that little house in California.

Mildenhall, Yokata, Wuerzburg, Vacaville - you sure moved around. But that was life. It was exciting. It was fun. It was lonely.

You were the quiet one, the student, the good girl. You read, wrote poetry, painted watercolors, day dreamed.

But nowhere in your daydreams had been an old Victorian house with an older man who would love you. You couldn't have imagined how he would fulfill the yearnings that had become more and more urgent for you as your young years passed. As you had grown, your need for stability and love also grew and these needs bled into your desires and fantasies. Your quiet, intelligent exterior belied the wild thing that lived inside your skin with her steamy desires and volcanic passion.

You knew I had recognized this wildness immediately and had admired it. I had seen your intelligence and respected it. I had seen your vulnerable heart and fallen for it.

You knew I would never have crossed the boundary between us – our age difference – without your insistence. But you had wanted the boundary crossed. You had wanted it smashed.

Now, thinking back, you could see how I was vulnerable too. I had been lost for a long time – since years ago when you, in your world, were a very little girl living half way across the globe. You tried to imagine what it could have been - what was it that had blown my life apart.

Loss. You knew about loss. And grief. But what a loss it must have been. 

You imagined that tacking that little note on the bulletin board in the student center had been a huge step outward for me. You shook your head slowly. What bizarre chance.

You thought about how the fates contrive to fulfill purposes that are invisible to us. You thought about how sometimes we find our own purpose in the morass of randomness and that's the other edge of the same sword. You had found a place here. And soon it would be Christmas.

You glanced back at your pictures. Christmas. You glanced at the anniversary clock on the mantle. Quarter 'till eleven.

You heard a soft rap on the door and saw it swing open. I smiled at you and said, "Ready?"

It struck you how I always knock first – and always the same little pattern – da daaa daaaa / da da da da. An old habit. A show of respect. You smiled back and got up from your desk, leaving the laptop open. Walking to me, you wrapped your arms around me snuggling your nose in my neck as was your habit. Habits – patterns – years in the making. "Yes. I'm ready."

We were going Christmas shopping on a Thursday night at eleven. Crazy.

You bundled up. Your thick wool sweater over your thick cotton blouse over your silk camisole. You pulled on your boots and tucked your jeans into their tops. Stocking-hat, scarf, mittens. And me in my double-breasted long coat, with my wine red scarf, leather fur-lined gloves and Astrakhan hat.

You took my hand. I opened the door. We stepped into the frigid air.

The wind was high and it was blowing the snow. We clamored down the stairs to the car – our driver was holding the door for you. You stopped to kiss me before you slid across the seat, me following. 

The car made its way through the winter town, over the bridge across the river. We rode on the highway for a little bit. We pulled into the mall. Empty parking lots.

But the car pulled up to the main Macy's entrance and our driver opened the car door for us. There was a fellow inside the store's glass door who unlocked the door... the store manager. "Nice to have you back, sir. Holiday shopping are we?"

He and I shook hands. "Yes, thank you. And it was so kind of you to open for us."

As we walked through the second doors and into the store. There were a few store personnel standing to greet us. He continued, "Our pleasure. You'll find everything available to you and the young miss." Turning to you he said, "I have arranged for Lynn, here, to escort you. She can take you anywhere you need to go."

Lynn shook your hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you too," you said.

Lynn was tall and slender - about five-nine - in her late twenties. She was dressed in a conservative black skirt with a suit jacket - very attractive.

The manager excused himself and one of the staff took our coats and sweaters. "Have fun, darling," I said, "How about we meet in housewares in two hours?"

Lynn said, "Better make it three," and then turned to you and said, "Men."

The two of you beamed at each other and you both laughed. She took your hand and lead you off into the store. "This is really weird," you said, "I've never had a store to myself."

"A mall."

"What?

"A mall, miss. You have a mall to yourself."

"The whole mall?"

"Yes. I can take you anywhere you want to go."

You gasped – "I don't have my wallet. I didn't think of it."

"You don't need a wallet."

"What?"

"You can have whatever you want."

You stopped in your tracks. "I can get anything?"

"Anything at all."

You stood silently. The air system came on; a deep rumble. You could hear a vacuum cleaner running across the expanse of the large store floor.

"Anything."

"At all." Lynn said, and grinned at you.

"What shall I get?" You spoke quietly. "I'll get him a sweater. And a tie. But – he can have anything."

"Yes," Lynn said, "But anything you choose for him will be unique in that you will have selected it for him – it will be from you."

"I don't know his size or anything." You were distressed.

"I know his sizes, miss."

You were stunned. "You know his sizes."

"It's my job to know." She took your hand. "A sweater and tie to start, then."

"To start," you repeated. "Yes – let's look at sweaters and ties – to start." You smiled broadly.

And so you and Lynn went to the men's department and made your way through mountains of sweaters, choosing out the ones you thought would look best and suit my nature. And ties. You chose one you liked. Each time you made a choice, Lynn would make sure it was the right size and set it aside. After a few minutes another store employee collected them and took them to the counter.

But then Lynn suggested you go to one of the other men's stores in the mall... one she said she knew I liked and so you started off into the mall.

Completely empty. The fountains were running. The lights on the Christmas trees were twinkling. The canned holiday music was playing, but you and Lynn were the only people save a guard who tipped his hat as you went by.

The mall had those glass elevators in the main atrium and you boarded one to ride to the second floor. When the door closed, Lynn turned to you and quietly asked, "What is he like? I mean – you live with him – what is he like?"

You looked up at her. You shivered. "He's – he's very good to me – I've only know him for six months or so – he's – he's –"

"A bit of a mystery."

"Yes." You looked down at the floor of the elevator. You almost whispered. "I'm so in love with him." You looked back up at her face.

She slowly reached to your face and gently fussed with your hair. "Maybe you could get him another kind of present... you know, we could go to Victoria's Secret." She grinned.

You grinned back. "Brilliant."

"But first the sweater."

"First the sweater – yes." You both laughed.

Just as you were about to go into the men's store, a fellow rushed up with a measuring tape and took some of your measurements. You were very amused. "Thanks, Danny," Lynn said as he rushed back off. "Looks like you're in for some new clothes, too. When you have an afternoon free, why don't you come by and I'll have your measurements properly taken. That way, next year we won't need to do it again."

"Next year," You said. "Yes – next year."

You chose another sweater – but there was a wonderful blazer – houndstooth windowpane – you knew I'd love it.

"Yes, yes," Lynn agreed. "I'll have it sent to his tailor. Better give me you wireless number so we can have it delivered to you without him seeing it. Will you wrap these yourself or would you like us to do it."

"Oh – let me do it."

"Of course."

"Let's go to Victoria's Secret now." You giggled.

"OK, let's."

You took Lynn's hand. You rode the elevator up another flight. You went into the store. Lynn looked at your skin and your hair, fussing with it again. "How about you come in on Christmas eve day and we'll do something special with your hair?" She took one of your hands and lifted it in hers and looked at it. "You should have a manicure and pedicure. You could make a special Christmas gift of yourself, dear."

"I don't know anything about those things."

"I'll call you next week. I'll show you the ropes." You both giggled again and she fussed with your hair a little more. "You are very pretty. You look like a C-cup."

"Yes."

Lynn expertly chose a variety of bras and panties and bustiers and garter belts and stockings while you watched. And some lace gloves.

She got a chair and set it down in front of a three-way mirror. "Here – let's try these on." Her movements slowed as she began to unbutton your blouse. Slowly – unbuttoning the white cotton – and then unbuttoning your jeans – opening your blouse – helping you slide your jeans down your legs.

There was something about her touch. It was gentle and expert and you felt pampered. You stepped out of your jeans. She slid the blouse off your arms. The room was warm. You were comfortable. Lynn, even more slowly, lifted the pale green camisole over your head and off your arms. Her hand brushed over your breasts. You nipples were hard.

"We should try these on, don't you think?" She asked as she held up a beautiful red silk bra. You nodded. She stood in front of you – very close – as she reached around you to undo your bra. You both knew she didn't have to do it this way. You both knew you weren't complaining. You sensed her breathing was a little quickened.

She stepped back and gazed at you. She was drinking in the sight of your naked breasts. "You are lovely, my dear." She said. "And – perhaps for the full effect –"

Lynn knelt in front of you and slowly began to slip your panties down – down – and off your feet. You were naked. Impulsively, you wove your fingers into Lynn's hair. She slid her hand up the inside of your leg, your thigh. You slowly leaned down to her and gently kissed her mouth as her fingers brushed against your pussy lips.

You thought, "What am I doing. This is crazy. But it feels so nice – and I like it – and Lynn obviously likes it."

She smiled at you and stood back up. "OK – now –," she gently began to dress you – the red silk lace bra – her touches were like caresses – you knew they were deliberate. "When I was a little girl, I loved to play dress-up and I loved to dress my dolls too. Did you?"

"I didn't have many dolls. I liked sports stuff."

"A tom-boy?"

You giggled "Sort-of, I guess."

She knelt again, holding the matching lace panties for you to slip you feet into – first one side then the other – then sliding them up your legs. As she lifted them up your legs, she was caressing you, and this time she blatantly caressed your pussy lips.

"You don't mind, do you?"

Your pussy was moist. You leaned down to her and kissed her lips gently. "I don't mind."

Her finger dipped between you pussy lips and touched your clitoris. You took in your breath and shuddered in pleasure, kissing her again as she gently stroked you once, twice.

"You want to be my pretty dolly and play dress-up?" she purred.

"I'd love to, Lynn."

She slowly withdrew her fingers and stood up turning you to face the mirror. She stood behind you. "See how beautiful you are."

You smiled. She was right – you were lovely. The red lace she'd chosen was the perfect red for your skin – a rich, dark tomato with some dark green – like a heritage Cherokee Purple – but a bright enough red to show off against your dark skin. She fussed with your hair – pulling it back just right. It showed off the lines of your jaw and your cheeks seemed more defined. Your face seemed more sculpted than you remembered. You were becoming a beautiful young lady.

Your panties had a tell-tale wet spot and it made you look sexy and exciting. Lynn pinned your hair up. She said, "Come on," and took you by the hand back out into the mall. It was chilly and your nipples hardened again.

Down the escalator and around the corner into a jewelry store. Two attendants were there – a man and a woman. They were acting completely unsurprised and kept their eyes at a business-like level, but you knew they couldn't help but see your nipples and that naughty wet spot.

They both fussed over you. Lynn chose a simple ruby necklace with matching pendant ear rings. Silver, not gold. And she chose a silver chain, a necklace of lapis spheres, and a hand made silver bracelet. You wandered over to look at rings.

"We'd better save something for him to get you, dear," Lynn said as she fitted the ruby ear rings in your ears and the necklace around your neck.

"What does all this cost?" you blurted.

"Not near enough yet," She grinned, you giggled, then you both laughed. She squeezed your hand.

"Are you working on commission, Lynn?" you teased her.

She chuckled. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes. Actually, I do."

Then Lynn seemed like all business of a sudden. She smiled, but you could sense the cool business-woman-heart. "Really, There's no commission. It's a flat fee. I am to see that you get whatever you want... but I can get a bonus in addition." She grinned mischievously.

"Oh, really – and for what?" You giggled.

I get a bonus if I spend at least a certain amount on you. She leaned in and whispered a number in your ear. Her breath was warm and seductive. The number was high. You couldn't imagine how you'd spend that much in a month of Sundays let alone on one night.

She turned to the two attendants. "Please box those," she said, pointing to the jewelry on the counter. She picked up the silver bracelet. "We'll take these with us for now."

She took you by the hand again, back up the escalator, back to Victoria's Secret. You stood in front of the mirror again. The ruby jewelry was perfect.

Lynn undressed you again. Again the caressing touches.

You stood naked in front of the mirror. Lynn was behind you again. Your waist, the curves of your hips, the way Lynn had fixed your hair, the jewelry – "My pretty Dolly," Lynn whispered in your ear and she nibbled you. She reached around to your front and gently stroked and pinched your nipples. "Have you ever considered a piercing?"

"No – I hadn't – one of my girlfriends has a nipple pierced and I've seen..." you hesitated, but then you continued because you felt so naughty all at once "I saw a pieced clitoris once."

Lynn slid her hands over your belly and down over your mons pubis, bending over your neck and nibbling on you. She dipped her fingers between your pussy lips again and stroked you. "Naughty Dolly," she said.

In the mirror, you saw the lady from the Jewelry store behind both of you – watching. Lynn said to the lady... "Do you think my lovely little Dolly is grown up enough to get her clitty pierced yet, Donna?"

"Not yet," Donna, the jewelry-store lady replied. "But maybe her left nipple. But she can't have it done by Christmas."

"Yes," Lynn said, "But after Christmas. By Valentine's Day."

"Yes – by Valentine's"

Donna was watching Lynn stroking your clitoris. You were wrapped up in your sexual excitement. Lynn was playing with you expertly... exciting you and keeping you that way.

"Help me try some other clothes on my dolly, Donna." And so the two women went to work, dressing you up in one outfit after another – the white bustier and lace panties with silk stockings and the elbow-length lace fingerless gloves.

"Why no fingers?" you asked.

Lynn chuckled warmly and Donna answered. "If there was lace on your fingers, dear, it might be rough against a man's – skin – don't you think?"

You all laughed. It was genuinely fun to be so fussed over and these ladies were treating you like a younger sister. It was really nice.

And so, after they'd selected the white and the red, they took you, in a black outfit, back into the mall. "Time for shoes, Dolly." And you all laughed again.

All this time, both women had been caressing you and teasing you. Donna had joined in stroking your clitoris, while Lynn kissed your neck. Lynn had briefly sucked your nipples as they fitted on the black bustier. And they had left off your panties as they led you to the shoe store.

You were painfully excited and in the shoe store, there was a male attendant who let you in and although he too maintained a professional aloof, you saw him swallow hard.

The ladies sat you down in one of the chairs. "Better measure her, Richie, the ladies giggled." The man, Richie, sat down on the stool in front of you and reached for your right foot. As you lifted your leg and set your foot on the stool, you knew you were slightly exposing your pussy. You saw his eyes flit up to glance at your cunnie lips.

Lynn came around in back of him. "Take your time, Richie. Isn't she lovely?"

"Yes, she's very lovely." Richie said.

You could see a distinct bulge in his pants.

Donna came over with several shoes – all very high heels. "Richie, be a dear and get these in our dolly's size."

"Actually," you said, "I prefer flats."

Lynn said, "Richie – those lovely sequined slippers."

Richie stood up with a little noticeable effort, and Lynn slipped her arms around him from behind. "Why, Richie, you really do think our dolly's a lovely little thing," she said as she wickedly ran her hands over his bulge. It had the effect of showing you how large his cock must be.

"You see, miss, what endears him to us?" Donna asked as she sat next to you.

"I certainly do," you said breathily.

Donna ran her hand up the inside of your leg, pulling you slightly open. She dipped her finger between you pussy lips as Richie watched and Lynn stroke his bulge. "Off you go, Richie." And she patted his behind as he hurried off to the stock room.

Soon he was back with three shoe boxes. He sat down on the stool and put the boxes on the floor. He opened the top box and took out red sequined flats. He offered one to your right foot and you raised it to slip the shoe on, but Richie was distracted by the view. And it didn't help that, as you slipped your foot into the shoe, Donna gently pushed your legs a little further apart.

Now Lynn is kneeling beside Richie. She's nibbling on his ear while she caresses his cock through his trousers.

"Come on, Richie," she says as she draws his zipper down, "Show us what you're made of."

He doesn't protest as she opens his trousers and slides his boxers down to his knees. She adjusts him on the stool so you have a perfect view of his engorged cock and his large balls.

He is very large indeed, and Lynn begins to stroke him gently – expertly – like she does everything – expertly – and Donna dips her fingers between you cunnie lips and begins to work you.

It is wonderfully erotic being exposed to this young stranger. And he is so excited by you and by the novelty of his predicament. Lynn is stroking him. Pre-come is glistening at the tip of his shaft. He's young and eager. You can tell it won't be long.




Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 19



And you – Donna is stroking you perfectly. Your chest is heaving as you gasp for breath. The slight push-up of the bra is making your breasts heave seductively with every breath. You are squirming against Donna's fingers. You, too are getting ready to come.

"You want our little dolly, don't you, Richie?" Lynn asks, but the answer is obvious.

Richie nods.

Lynn softly croons, "But you can't have her, baby." She is barely stroking him. He is breathing very heavily. "She belongs to someone else. But you want her, don't you, Richie?"

He nods again. "Come on, baby, show the little dolly how much you want her."

You are on the edge. You moan.

"Come on, Richie," Lynn is purring. "You want her so badly, but you can't have her - not tonight. Come on, baby."

And Richie can't wait any longer. Lynn is barely touching him. He is frustrated beyond reason and Donna - she has ceased moving at all. Your pussy is wet and spread open. Your clitoris is swollen.

Richie grabs his own cock and pumps it. Once, twice - half a dozen strokes and, as Lynn reaches between his legs and takes his balls in her hands, he begins to come.

You can't stand it either and quickly slide your fingers into you cunt. Stroking, squirming, squealing while you come hard and Richie's cock erupts, pumping his spunk into the air as Lynn suddenly squeezes his balls hard.

He cries out in pleasure and surprise. It is the hardest he has ever come and his hand, suddenly slick with his emission, squeezes and pumps while he groans.

Lynn licks her lips. She goes down on him quickly, sucking all the come from his cock. He arches back as you watch her begin to suck him aggressively. You see her slide her finger, slippery with his come, into his ass. You watched her work it. Richie began to squirm and ride her finger. It doesn't take long before he comes hard in Lynn's mouth.

You make note of this trick for your own purposes, but for now, your own fingers are busy. You can't help yourself. And this time, Donna is working your cunnie too. She had pushed your legs wide open. She reaches into you and strokes your G-spot perfectly. You cry out as Richie comes. You are being so naughty – but it feels so good. Donna squeezes your clitoris. You squeal and come again.

Lynn is swallowing Richie's hot come. Richie is spasming in his ecstasy. You squeeze your legs closed on Donna's fingers. It feels so good.

Lynn lifts her head and wipes her mouth. Donna giggles as she helps you re-arrange yourself. She helps you stand – a little wobbly. It has been so very naughty to be exposed in a public place, but it's been such a thrill.

Richie is pulling up his trousers. Lynn throws your shoes in their box. You girls rush out the door.

Back to Victoria's secret. The girls undress you, then Donna re-dresses you in your street clothes. Lynn is wrapping your new shoe box in brown paper.

"Now, dear, call me a week – there's more to do. And I think we should take you shopping for some toys."

"Toys?"

"Yes, sweetie, a girl should have her own collection of little mischief-makers."

"Oh – Toys," you giggle. "I'll call."

"Good. And I'll have this stuff sent to the house. Except for this – take your shoes with you."

The three of you hurry back to meet me. The night is old. We ride home together holding hands. You are shivering from your exciting adventure. Will you tell me about it? Maybe. Maybe it's more fun to have a little secret or two. Like that new trick you saw Lynn use on Ritchie. Won't it be fun to surprise me with that sometime.

Later on, you are sitting on your bed – you open your shoe box. Lynn has put a note inside with her phone number:

"Ruby slippers for my beautiful friend –

"Tap the heels and say the magic words –

"There's no place like home –

"There's no place like home."

It's five in the morning. You whisper, "There's no place like home." You come into my room, under the covers, "Daddy, fuck me."

I readily oblige. We take a nice long time. You are hungry this morning and very glad to be home.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 20



That Very Naughty Thing

The large bolster is on my bed again. You put it there. It's about 18 inches in diameter. It's covered in deep red velvet. You are naked, on your knees. I am watching you from slightly behind.

You are ravishingly beautiful. Dark skinned, slender, softly and subtly voluptuous. You look at me back over your left shoulder. Your face is lovely. You are smiling. You are trembling in anticipation. You are taking your time. You deeply enjoy this ritual. It is your invention -- your ritual -- and you only perform it with me -- it is for you and your "Daddy" alone. Daddy -- your pet name for me.

You turn your face away. You can feel me watching you -- adoring you -- drinking in the vision of your seductive curves. Your perfect buttocks. You know I want to take you. You know I will take you. Your pussy moistens with the thought.

You slowly and gracefully drape yourself over the velvet. Your butt is high and accessible. I can see your cunnie lips between your legs. You know I am watching. You spread your legs slowly giving me a delicious view of your lips, now slightly parted, and you clitoris swelling, wet, protruding, waiting for my caress.

You squirm slowly in your growing excitement. You turn your head to the side again and I move so you can watch me undress. I loosen my tie. I untie the knot slowly and drape the patterned silk over the bedside high--backed chair. I unbutton my collar and then the six buttons of my linen shirt. I unfasten my belt and slide it through the finders. I unbutton the fine wool trousers and slide them down my legs -- off my already bare feet.

You can see my erect cock in my briefs and, as I slide the waistband down, you see it spring free and stand out. It is the only one you've ever had stretching you pussy open -- filling your mouth and throat, thrusting into your ass.

I leave my shirt on as I walk to the hearth. The fire is crackling. The room is dark except for the candles on the mantle and tables and the flickering of the fire. You smile and turn your head down. You want to wait for it. You want to bask in the luxury of anticipation; slow, steady -- growing in your excitement.

You feel the bed shift as I climb on beside you. You feel my hand gently, lovingly, stroking your back and hips. I am touching the backs of your legs. You squirm -- you can't help it -- you have become urgently excited. But you relax into it. You savor it. You know what's coming. You want it so badly.

As I touch your pussy lips, you moan softly.

"You are my beautiful little girl and I love you so much."

"I love you too, Sir. With all my heart. I want to be your very special little girl tonight."

"Yes, my sweet thing. You are my very own."

"I want to be your plaything. I want you to play with me very hard. Please, Sir -- pretty please."

"Yes, my darling. I promise. I will make you glad to be mine. I will make you submit."

And it catches you with no warning. Whack!

Very hard. That paddle you love. You scream in surprise and in the wonderful sting -- hot, wicked.

"Thank you, Daddy."

But tonight I'm going to truly take charge of this thing you love -- this naughty invention of yours. Tonight I will take you over the edge completely.

Whack!

"Oh! Oh!"

Whack, Whack, Whack!

You squeal and squirm. It feels so good. But Then I strike you very hard.

Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack!

"Oh, oh, my! Daddy!"

Very, very hard. Whack, Whack, Whack, Whack!

You are dazed and slightly disoriented. It is just what you've wanted, but 'till now, I've been reluctant to push you this hard. But tonight -- tonight I've decided to push your limits just as you've been begging me to do.

The paddling and this stunned state is translating into intense sexual pleasure -- you are rising -- it is beginning to get you off.

I roughly spread your legs further open. You feel me wrapping strips of cloth around your ankles. I am tying your legs wide open. As I tie your arms above your head, your heart is beating fast. You are so thrilled you feel slightly dizzy.

You feel my hands caressing your soft flesh. Your buttocks are on fire. I dip my fingers between your sopping pussy lips. I pinch your clitoris. You nearly come, but I know you well -- I'm not going to give you release yet.

I pause, I let you catch your breath.

Whack!

Your legs are spread so wide that the paddle nearly touches you pussy lips. The danger is fantastically exciting.

Whack, Whack, Whack!

You pussy is beginning to throb with every heartbeat. You are nearly there.

Whack, Whack!

You yell. "Oh my God! Oh, Daddy/"

But now, I strike you even harder.

Whack!

You cry out my name.

Whack!

You scream my name.

Whack!

You are ready to come.

Whack!

"Oh Goddddd!"

I'm timing the single stroke so is not enough to allow you to orgasm.

Whack!

"Oh Goddddd, Daddy!"

Whack!

"Oh Goddddd, Daddy, Pleease!"

Whack!

"Daddy, Pleease! Please, Daddy. Make me come/"

Whack!

"Daddy, Pleease!, Please!"

Whack, -- -- -- Whack!

"Yesssss. Yesssssss."

Whack, -- -- -- Whack!

And you begin to come -- you begin a long, beautiful, ecstatic wail -- viscerally orgasmic.

Whack, -- -- -- Whack!

And you scream -- you shriek -- you are straining against the bonds, writhing in your pleasure. You are coming so hard there are no words... there is only pleasure... there is only your submission and your love.

Whack, -- -- -- Whack, -- -- -- Whack, -- -- -- Whack!!

And with the last stroke, you are suddenly still -- you are in a dream. It is serenely blissful. You are throbbing, but it is absolutely divine -- truly heavenly.

You feel me behind you -- gentle now, but firm. You feel my hard, hot cock enter your slick pussy. You are completely relaxed. You are completely conscious, but it is as if you have no will to move -- you are completely at my whim -- like a lovely rag doll.

And I fuck you slowly and strongly. And you respond, your body finding its own rhythm. You are rising again, but from deep inside. You are going to come, but stronger and deeper and longer than ever.

You hover on the brink.

And it crashes in -- wave after wave in the rising tide of passion, lust, and, again, all--consuming love. You scream again. You call my name over and over. You burst into tears. You weep -- and you feel my hot seed pump into you -- a willing vessel. I push hard.

You hear me shouting your name and it snaps you back from your minutes of reverie -- or was it a hour -- you say my name softly.

"Oh, Daddy -- Oh I love you. My Daddy. My lovely Daddy. Thank you. Thank you."

I collapse down against you. Our sweat mixes. You squirm against me, my cock still deep in your pussy.

I lie against you for a long time. You are bent over the bolster and I am bent over you. Your legs are held open by the cords. Your arms are stretched over your head. My cock is still throbbing, but slowly becoming soft.

"I love, you soooooo much, Daddy."

Your voice gently wakes me from my rest.

"I love you sooooo much."

I rise, I untie you, I lift you off the bolster. I lie down, pulling you against me. You tuck your nose into my neck -- just there -- like you always do. You are throbbing.

"Thank you, Daddy. Thank you."

"I love you, little girl."

"My Daddy. I love you sooo much." 



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 21



Gentle Night

You looked around the door into the dark room. It was at the end of the hallway – the hallway lit only by the lights over the framed photos and plaques all along its walls. At its end, to one side, there was the thick door into the little room – like an air lock – then the other thick door you were peering around – peering into the darkness.

A single point of light glowed thirty feet across its expanse and as you eyes became accustomed to the dark you could see it was on a mantle before a mirror. You could see me silhouetted by its glow, sitting at what looked like a table about halfway into the room.

"Come on in, sweetie."

"Daddy, why are you sitting here in the dark?"

"I'm thinking and listening, little girl, listening and thinking."

You slowly walked behind my chair. There were three at the table in a row – big office-kind of chairs on wheels – leather – black – or dark blue perhaps – you couldn't tell in the candle light. You pulled the chair on my far side – my left side – around and slowly, carefully sat down. Your bottom was still tender from the night before last.

It wasn't a table we were sitting at. It was a slightly tilted surface with levers and dials in many rows. You had seen things like this in videos on MTV. "Oh," you said quietly, "So this is your studio."

"Yes, sweetie. My studio." My voice was soft – and sad.

You stared at my face in the dim light. I had my eyes closed. You were looking at me in profile.

After a long, long moment you whispered, "Daddy."

I slowly turned my face to you and opened my eyes. I said, "I don't know where to begin." It was just a quiet, simple statement.

You reached for my hand and held it. You stood and carefully arranged yourself in my lap, across my legs. You kissed my mouth tenderly.

"You'll figure it out, Daddy." You pushed the hair back from my face. "Your hair's getting long."

"I know. I should have it cut."

"I'll cut it for you, if you like. But I kinda like it long. Let it grow a little more, OK? Let me see what it looks like."

I smiled. You kissed me again. "What are you listening to?"

"The music in my head. I'm trying to decide how to start recording. I'm listening to the songs the way they'll sound when they're all done."

"In your head."

"Yes."

"You can hear the recording in your head."

"Yes. The arrangement. The music. But I'm stuck."

"You're stuck?"

"Yes. I just can't seem to hear the beginning."

"So you don't know how to begin."

"Yes."

You smiled. You kissed me again and wriggled in my lap. "Why don't you begin in the middle? Maybe while you're recording the middle, it will inform you about the beginning. Maybe the act of recording will change the way you hear it. Some variation on the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle applied to composition," you giggled. "What a ridiculous thought."

I smiled at you. "You're probably right, though. It's a good idea."

"Come to bed, Daddy, tomorrow you can show me this gadget here." You patted the arm-rest front edge of the mixing console. You turned and looked at it. You could see four flat screen monitors built above it. You could see objects in the room beyond it. A piano? A harp? You looked around the room. You could see the faint glint of equipment in racks all around.

You stood up, pulling my hand.

You were in your soft little nighty. The sight of you, in the dim light was alluring. As you pulled me toward the door, I slipped my arm around your waist.

We moved to the door but something caught your eye. It was a display case hanging on the wall. Three flutes inside the glass.

"Oh, Daddy! My God! Silver, gold, and..."

"Platinum, darling."

"May I play them tomorrow?

"You play? I had no idea."

"I used to," you seemed far away. "I used to." You put your arms around my neck and I lifted you. You snuggled into my neck. I carried you upstairs.

I laid you in bed, taking my place beside you. "Daddy?"

"Yes, my love."

"I was naughty when you took me shopping last week."

"Yes, you were, darling."

"How did you know?"

"By your scent when we went to bed. I knew you had been very excited and beyond just arousal. I knew you had been playing."

"You knew, yet you said nothing."

"Yes, my dear. I knew you would talk to me if you needed to."

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I didn't do anything really bad."

"I know, darling. I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me and us."

"No, not at all, but I was curious and it was exciting."

"Yes. Sometimes it's fun to explore new things. And it can be easy to get caught up in the moment and do things you wouldn't otherwise do."

You are lying quietly in my arms. You say, thoughtfully, "Sometimes it's exciting to think about doing things you'd never really do."

"Of course it is. Is it exciting to think about your adventure, sweetie? Do you like thinking about it?"

Now you are kissing my mouth softly. I reach under your nighty. I find your folds with my fingers. They are wet and I slip my fingers between them, stroking your clitoris the way I know you like it. "I think you do like thinking about it." I chuckle. 

"Yes. I confess I do. It's naughty. It makes me excited to remember it."

"Well, sweetie, there's been no harm done, right?"

You climb on top of me. My cock is hard and ready. You begin flirting with it, rubbing your wet pussy against its tip. "I was naughty, Daddy."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

You are breathing harder. You push against my cock and it slides into you easily.

"I was trying on sexy clothes and I – I let Lynn touch me."

"Did you like it?"

"Yes, Daddy. I did. I confess I did like it." You are fucking me beautifully now. "– and I watched a young man stroke himself and come."

You are fucking me harder. I know you are on the edge. These thoughts have excited you a great deal. You have been quick.

"I'm your little girl, right, Daddy?"

You are eager. You kiss me hard. Your tongue enters my mouth deeply. "I love you so much, Daddy" you whisper. "I'm your little girl, right?"

That pet name, "Daddy," – it does its magic. It spurs me on.

"Yes, Konikochan, you are my wonderful little girl."

"I'll always be your little girl, right, Daddy?"

"Always, Kiki."

You begin to shudder. I know this is the moment. It's time to remind you.

"You belong to me, little girl. Say it."

"I belong to yooouuuuu," and you come hard, your cunnie spasming around my cock. "Oh – oh Daddddyyy." You squeal as your next wave – stronger than before – washes through you. "I belong to only yoooouuuuu."

I roll over on top of you. You are rocking beneath me. I take your fingers in mine and press your hands into the firm mattress on either side of your head. You are looking into my eyes.

"Take me hard, Daddy. I need it hard tonight."

So I thrust hard and deep and quicken my pace. You squeal and spread wider. I'm holding your hands. You can feel my strength.

Our eyes are locked. "Come, Daddy." You kiss me softy. "Come in your little girl. I need you, Daddy. I need you tonight."

I feel you tighten your muscles. You squeeze me wonderfully. "Come, Daddy. Please."

I can't resist you. I know it's been brief. But I want to come.

"Please, Daddy. Now."

I feel the beautiful rush – the heat in my balls and abdomen –the shiver in my spine. I begin to pump. I groan and cry, "My baby girl."

You feel my hot liquid flood your pussy. "My lovely Daddy. Come. Come in me, Daddy."

I come long and warmly and easily. It is a beautiful moment. So sweet.

You sigh deeply. My cock is still throbbing inside you. I wonder if you were worried about my reaction to your foray at the mall. I know you would never do anything to compromise our connection, there is a boundary you won't cross. But I also know that you are young – so young – and full of mischief and you will experiment from time to time. You will make mistakes.

"I love you, little girl."

"I love you too. So very much." You are breathing deeply – you sob. "I'm sorry."

"Hush, my love. There's no need."

"But I am. I belong to you now."

"Yes, you do."

"Then if I am to have an adventure it should be with you, Daddy."

Good. You got it.

"We could have an agreement like that," I suggest.

"Yes. Yes. Let's do. I agree."

"I agree too."

"OK."

I am resting in your arms. Your legs are around me. You hold me tightly. You are stroking my hair.

"Thank you, Daddy. That's what I needed tonight. It's exactly what I needed." Then you blurt, "Don't leave me ever."

"Never."

"Not if I get sick."

"Of course not. Never."

"Not if I'm weak."

"Never.

"Not if I break."

"Break, dear little thing? You wont break."

"What if I can't move?"

"You still won't break."

"I won't break."

"Right. And I won't leave."

"You won't leave."

"Never."

"Never – ever."

"Never – ever, baby girl."

You are stroking my hair. I feel you drifting to sleep.

I gently lift myself off your sweet, small body. I lie next to you. I gather you close. I kiss your forehead. You are asleep in less than a minute.

What a relief. I thought you might have been much naughtier. I'm not worried so much about girls – boys – now, that would threaten me badly. I sigh. But perhaps that danger has been averted for now. Yeah – you playing with a girlfriend once in a while – I can handle that.

I smile in the dark. I whisper, "I'm in love with a college girl. Holy crap." I remember being nineteen – thirty three years ago. I shake my head in the gentle night. "Enough of this malarkey."

The wind rattles the windows. It is snowing again. I resign myself to my customary sleeplessness. I listen to the music in my head. I can almost hear the beginning. There are still hours before dawn. It's just a matter of time.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 22



Doughnut Shop

You stood in the snow looking up.

We had been on our way out the door when I'd gotten a call. I was buttoning my coat and asked you to answer it for me. You picked up the old black handset of the telephone in the front hall; the one sitting on the wood box with the instrument's bells and the thick cord. You marveled at its weight.

"He's right here," you had said to the inquiring voice. After exchanging greetings, I had held my hand over the mouthpiece - "Give me ten minutes, OK. darling?" You kissed my cheek and ran out the door and, turning left at the bottom of the porch stairs, trudged around the house into new territory.

It was a beautiful day -- the day after the snow. You turned to watch the troop of schoolboys shoveling the far drive that came from the street through its own gate and back to the carriage house. But here, the main driveway remained pristine. It came in the opened iron front gate and formed a circle running past the porch then back out. At the side of the loop where you were heading was an iron gate. Now you wondered about it. You made your way up the five steps, pushed it open. You had never been around this side of the house.

As you came around the corner, you were standing on what must be a wide terrace, now deep in snow, with a brick wall to your right separating it from the bushes and trees that bordered it on that side. Pushing your feet through the fifteen inches of powder and down the center of the long terrace, you looked back at the house on your left. You realized you were looking at the huge room we had danced in. "So all those French doors open onto this terrace," you said to yourself.

A cardinal was perched on one of the trellises against the building. Its brilliant red feathers were like fire against the stone. It cocked its head, watching you as you imagined the balls and parties that must have taken place here. "Oh my," you said aloud -- your breath coming out like billows of smoke in the crisp air. You trudged over to the center door and pressed your nose to the glass. Yes - there was the piano, the chairs, the mirrored wall just as we'd left them weeks ago.

You smiled. You trudged on around the house. This room, the Terrace Room had the huge French doors on three of its sides and it connected to the main house only on one wall -- the mirrored one. Looking up, you could see that its flat roof twenty five feet above, had a rail around the edge. You thought, "My goodness, a balcony that big?," and you wondered how you'd get to it from inside the house.

You hadn't realized how big the house is. You had seen it only from the street and from the far driveway and back entrance that you used to go into the servant's wing. You had always been so busy coming and going that you'd never explored it.

Looking up, you now saw that the house stood three stories high, not even counting the dormered windows in the roof above that. The bottom floor was very tall. You had only ever been in the bottom two floors. And you were realizing that your basement 'play room' must be here under this back corner of the Terrace Room. Yes -- here were the grated tops of the window wells that let the light down into that secret place.

You shivered at the memory and your pussy moistened. The very thought of your special room was exciting. As you rounded the corner, you thought about how it made you feel warm to be reminded of your slow, subtle training. You thought about how your response was so strong. You thought about how it's the way you want it to be. Exciting. Gently, lovingly dominated. You wondered what the next step would be. You very nearly turned back to wait for me in the front hall so you could take me back upstairs or, better yet, ask me to take you to your playroom.

But there, around the corner was an open space with a large marble fountain. Its raised marble bowl, fully five feet in diameter, stood as tall above ground as you. Its base stood as deep below in the fountain's empty, wide pool. And there was a statue of an angel standing at its far edge. Beyond her and the ancient trees, was the very tall stone wall that kept the street world out of this sanctuary.

You recognized these from your view out the library windows where you study these days. You wondered how you'd never thought to come outside before.

On around the house, you came to a serpentine brick fence undulating through the trees across the yard from the back wall to house. Here was another wrought iron gate. You forced the gate open against the weight of the snow and pushed your way into a disheveled snow-covered garden.

There were obvious paths through snowy lumps of plantings. There were small trees and shrubs and there were trellises and all this going on an on with benches and a table away over there and -- and there, deep in this rambling old Eden, was a large, intricate, Victorian glasshouse -- its copper frame green with the patina of a hundred thirty years.

How had this become your life? It was as if you had stepped into someone else's skin. It was as if you had been swept into someone else's story. And there was so much of the tale yet to be revealed -- so much about him -- and here, in the snowy garden, you felt that to hear the full story, the real story, you'd need to reveal yourself as well. You should risk it.

You turned slowly all 'round. And then, gazing back and up at the house, you saw those huge bay windows of your new room far above, overlooking the garden.

And so you stood in the snow looking up -- in your heavy sweater, and your pleated wool skirt and your thick woolen tights, your mittens and your infinitely cute insulated boots -- looking up at the flash of a woman's face in your window smiling down at you.

Had it been a reflection of a cloud? The sky was a flawless caerulean canopy; no cloud to be seen. Had it been your own breath steaming through the frosty glare? You knew better.

You felt an opening in your heart. You smiled again. This was to be your garden now -- hers and yours. You had seen some old photographs of the house in the library. Perhaps you can research it. Perhaps you could restore it.

You turned and hurried back through the garden gate. You stomped across the yard, around the house, down the length of the terrace, back around and down the steps to the snow covered drive. I had just stepped out onto the porch. You stopped at the bottom of the stairs as I descended to you.

"Ready for our walk, Daddy?" You took my leather glove in your mittened hand.

"Yes, darling. Where are you taking us?"

"Well, part of the care and feeding of Daddy is to take him for walks now and then," You giggled. "But I need to pick up a book I left on campus, then let's get some coffee."

"Very well, little girl. That sounds delightful."

We walked along the drive to the open front gate and out into the old town streets and headed down the hill through the neighborhood of brick row houses. The roads and sidewalks had been cleared of the snow and we past the pharmacy and shops, the bank, and the luncheonette, turning up hill and onto the university campus.

You held my hand all the way. You talked about your studies, your impending exams, your teachers, your friends. Some of the kids watched us as we passed, a few girls waved and you waved back. They watched you holding my hand and wondered aloud. We climbed the winding roads and, as we passed the old university administration building, a car slowed as it approached us.

The driver's side window glided down and, to your surprise, the university president greeted me. You had only seen him when he addressed the school at official events.

"Thank you for your assistance with the new school theater. It's been much appreciated."

"Sure thing, Benjamin."

"We so rarely see you anymore. Please stop by my office. We can talk about your ideas for the music department recording facility."

"Next week?"

"Better make it after the holidays, OK?"

"Yup, sure thing."

"Is this one of our students?"

"Yes, and my very dear friend."

"Music major?"

"Physics," I said.

He raised his eyebrows. "Perhaps we could solicit your help with a new particle collider, then." He laughed. "You'll both come to tea sometime and we can make the arrangements."

I laughed and turned to you. "Would you like that?"

You were tongue-tied and just nodded. I chuckled and said, "Yes, that'll be great, Ben. We'd love it."

The window glided back up and the car went on its way.

It didn't take us long to grab your book. It was nice to be in the old building where you took English Lit 372, advanced for third semester. The halls smelled of the steam heat radiators and as the hour turned, kids bustled out of the classrooms, pushing past us on their busy ways.

We stood there in the hall for a little while as they pressed around us. You were holding my arm and your book. You were struck by the contrast between what your life had been and what it was becoming.

You had been just like one of these kids, but as of these last few months -- just six months -- you had stepped into a world you couldn't have imagined before. From the moment you saw my little hand-written ad on the bulletin board of the Student Center, your life had taken a different trajectory. It had gone from precocious school girl with full scholarship to -- something else. In a way, it was like a dream now, standing here near the end of your first sophomore semester clutching my arm.

You looked up at me and said, "I love you, Daddy," and stood on your toes to unselfconsciously, briefly, but unmistakably tenderly, kiss my mouth. A couple of the kids -- girls -- noticed and whispered and pointed to friends -- look -- the girl and the old guy kissing in the hall.

"I love you too, darling."

My life had changed too. Oh -- I was still busy with music. Even in what I'd thought of as my retirement, it kept me quite occupied. That wasn't different. It's that I was also very busy with you.

You were an all pervasive influence. And I was in love -- a completely miserable state that even at my middle age gave rise to inconvenient waves of insecurity and doubt in coexistence with the heat and desire and attachment that I'd grown comfortable living without.

My song writing had changed in reflection. My publisher had remarked about it, "You haven't written like this in more than a decade -- you're on fire, man." Yeah -- on fire. Somebody get me some cold water, quick.

"I didn't know you two knew each other."

It was your English Lit professor. She was your favorite and you were suddenly flummoxed at the greeting. 

She was obviously taking in the way you were clutching my arm. Had she seen the kiss? You stammered, "Hello, professor."

I went to extend my right hand to hers, but realizing it was being jealously guarded by your grasp, I chuckled and gave her my left. "It's good to see you, Karen."

Her eyes sparkled but she posed an inquisitive expression as she looked from me to you and back. "We've missed you." She said to me. "Shall we get together sometime? Dinner?"

"Of course."

"Charles will be glad. Bring my student with you." She turned to you. "She's one of my favorites. Great promise in this one." She smiled at you and you swelled, beaming back at her. You were proud of your academic work and your favorite professor was complimenting you in front of me. Your two passions were physics and writing. Oh - and, of course, there was a third passion: sex.

The hall had nearly emptied out. "Thank you, professor," you said, and you grabbed me and pulled me away down the hall while I waved goodbye over my shoulder.

As we made our way down the now empty hallway, you could hear one of the other professor saying, "Wasn't that... "

And your English Lit professor say, "Yes, it was."

"And that's a student on his arm?"

"Yes it is."

"But..."

"Yes, yes. Whatever. But it's gotten him out of his house. That's a first step and something to be grateful for. He said he'd come to dinner. He hasn't been for more than a decade. We used to be close back when... but ever since... well -- I suppose it's a miracle he's come outside, frankly."

"But the girl."

"Yeah -- who can say. But a decade and a half of grief is long enough. That girl is a special one. Who can say."

"But the age difference."

"Yes. A big difference. Still, I haven't seen him happy since years and years. And she's radiant."

"It's not -- well, it's very unusual, Karen."

"Stranger things have happened, Brandon. I'm not worried about her. He's a gentle soul. He'll take good care of her. I fear for his heart. Girls are so fickle at that age."

"I suppose."

As we stepped outside, the air was bracing. One of your friends stopped to say hello.

You turned to introduce me and I watched as I became visible to her -- coming into focus as more than just a codger. I took her hand briefly and she smiled, and, as you reinstated your claim to my paw, she seemed to grasp the implication.

You pulled me away again -- down the hill toward the streets of shops that catered to the student population. You strode along the sidewalk, hauling me with you like an eager child and through the door of the doughnut shop, the door chimes jangling.

The place was empty except for us and the girl behind the counter -- one of your friends, apparently -- the one you'd played with on the phone when I was away a couple weeks ago, in fact. You two greeted and leaned over the counter to kiss each other on the cheek and you turned to introduce us. I extended my hand to your friend and she took mine.

"How nice to meet you. I've heard all about you," she said.

"Good things, I hope."

"Oh -- very good things," her gaze seemed particularly warm and I wondered what it meant, but you interrupted.

"Kristin, how about a couple coffees?"

"Sure thing. Doughnuts?"

"Yeah, plain for me. How about you, Daddy?"

Your heart stopped at your slip. And you saw her eyes widen a nearly imperceptible bit. In fact, you saw her pupils get a little larger. It occurred to you that she was a little exited. And she was studying me, you could tell. Looking at me intently.

But she didn't skip a beat, "Yes, sir, what can I get for you?"

"Well, this place used to have crullers. Do you still make them?"

"Oh, yes, we do. Plain or cinnamon?"

"Cinnamon."

You urged me toward the tables and tall booths in the back of the shop. "We'll be back here, OK, Kris?"

"Thank you," I said over my shoulder.

"I'll bring your coffee right there," she said as we disappeared around the corner.

You guided me into the back-most booth. It had an old, wooden, high-backed bench on one side that extended well over our heads like in an old pub - but on the other side were a couple bistro-type chairs. You led me to those chairs. You sat next to me, cuddled up, and you pulled your mittens off, and then my gloves.

Kristen was there in an instant with our cups and doughnuts. "Look, you guys, I have to run out for a few minutes. You can stay here, but I'm locking up, OK?"

I was unbuttoning my coat. You said, "Sure. Ten minutes?"

"Fifteen, dear."

She turned and hurried out the door, the door chimes jangling as she locked up.

It was warm and cozy and you kicked off your boots. You slid off your tights and draped them over the back of the chair to dry. You pushed the table back against the opposite bench and, standing over me, straddled my legs, reaching down to kiss me and fumbling with my belt, and my trouser buttons, and my shorts.

"We've only got twelve minutes, Daddy," you said breathily, "I want you -- now."

You extracted my cock which sprung to attention at your touch. You lifted your skirt, you lowered yourself onto my lap, your legs spread, pulling me under you. You slipped my cock into your very wet pussy.

Now I am deep inside you. It is quiet and warm in the doughnut shop -- quiet except for your heavy breathing and our kisses and your sighs. "Daddy, I love you sooooo much."

"I love you too, darling."

"This is so naughty, Daddy."

"Yes, my love. Are you enjoying it?"

"Oh yesss. Yes, Daddy."

You kiss me deeply, your tongue working into my mouth while you fuck me. You break the kiss and arch back away from me, hitting your stride. I hold your waist. You rock and sway, taking your pleasure. Your cunnie is wet and hot. You are so beautiful and so young.

I had somehow lost perspective about that. At home, your youth is something I've been aware of, but it has faded in the our day-to-day, into the deepening of our love. Here, in the world outside the privacy of our walls, I am keenly aware that I'm being fucked now by a young girl.

Oh, very much of legal age. Very much a young woman. Hell, you could easily bear and raise children. You could have a couple children by now.

But in this place and time, we are an exception to the rule. And there are rules about such things. Rules with good reasons behind them.

Those things don't matter now -- not now while you make love to me. For now and perhaps for years to come, those rules will have to bend. And so I surrender again as you kiss me deeply -- again. And you fuck me -- again. And you pussy slides along my cock -- again. Milking me, urging me, compelling me.

"I love you, little girl."

"I love you too, Daddy."

And you speed up. You are urgent. You are in a hurry now. You want to come. We've only minutes before your little friend is back. It's risky and dangerous and fun. You kiss me again. You whisper, "Come, Daddy. Come in your little baby girl."

The heat takes me. My balls tense, my ass clenches. I whisper, "Konekochan! My little kitten."

And you shudder as you orgasm, quick, deep, full while I pump into your tight cunnie. You grind down on my lap, intensifying your pleasure. Your pussy is fluttering. You exclaim, "Oh! Oh, Daddy!"

You embrace me tight and hard.

The door rattles as Kristin fiddles with the lock. You are still squeezing the last drop from my cock, the last quick heat from your orgasm. The door chimes sound as she enters the shop.

Fortunately for us, she immediately steps around to the back of the counter and calls out, "Hey, guys, I'm back."

As you lift off my lap and my cock slides out of your pussy you reply lightly, "Hey, you. Get your chore done?"

"Yup." She's rattling paper bags. "I had to get some salad stuff at the market. We ran out." She's putting things away in the little refrigerator.

You pussy is dripping my semen as you arrange yourself on the chair next to me and I button myself up. We both grab the table and slide it back toward us; back to where it belongs.

She's coming to the back of the shop. You lift your coffee cup.

"Thanks for watching the place while I was gone," she laughs as she comes around the corner.

"No problem," you reply and smile.

She looks at the table. She sees my cup is full. Our doughnuts are untouched. She sees your tights slung over the back of the bench. There is a fragrance of sex. She glances at you and levels a look at me. "All quiet while I was away?" She smiles at you mischievously. "Enjoy the -- doughnuts?"

You smile back at her. There is a moment of silence. She says, "Let me get you fresh cups -- those are cold by now."

"Thank you, Kris," you say.

"Any time," she smiles.

I smile. "Thank you, Kristin."

Her eyes are soft and big. Her smile is warm. I think you don't know that Kristin's got a crush on you. She says as she looks me in the eyes, "Really -- any time at all, sir." 




Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 23



Love Letter

My Lovely Man,

I started out to write you an erotic love letter. I wanted to tell you all the naughty things that we'll do when you come to bed, but every time I started, the words just wouldn't express what I wanted to say and so I'd throw the paper away and start again.

Soon you will come upstairs. Soon you will be in my arms again. When you are, I will show you how I feel. For now, though, I want to tell you something else.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how I love you more than I ever knew my heart could bear. When we first met, I fell for you. I fell for your gentleness, your songs, and yes, that you were older than me.

I remember you telling me that I had a schoolgirl crush, but I didn't care. I knew what I wanted although I never imagined it would really happen.

There might be all kinds of reasons that I was attracted to you. I've thought about that too. I think that all the things you are kind-of fit into the places in me that needed you. That part of what I need, the older thing, that's why it thrills me a little bit every time I call you by my pet name for you, "Daddy."

Your age and experience made me feel safe and also naughty and mischievous seducing you (which I probably didn't do as well as I wish I had. Buy hey.).

What I want to say, Daddy, is that now, looking back, I think you were right in a way. I did have a school girl crush, but that doesn't mean I didn't also have genuine love for you. I did. That love I had, though, has changed and continues to change into something much deeper than I've ever felt before.

I feel like I'm blossoming. I feel so full of love, sometimes it makes me cry, and just when I think I couldn't possibly love you more, I realize that I do. More and more each day.

This love, though, is deeper. It's calmer. It's more centered. Oh, it's still hot and exciting. In fact, I'm more turned on by you and us than ever. That heat is different too. If anything, it's even hotter but it's less like a fire that comes and goes quickly. It's more like a furnace that has a whole range of heat, from warm to blazing and can burn all night and day.

When I try and think about why I love you, I don't even know. What I mean is that, although there are all kinds of things that I love about you, none of those things is why I love you. I love you so deeply that I just do. I love you like a fact; like a force of nature. It has no reason; it just is.

I belong to you, Daddy. I want to belong to you. I want you to come to me for pleasure and comfort and I can support you, Daddy. I know you need me too. I know it. I will never leave you and I've made a pact: I will love you and care for you for ever. That's also just a fact. It transcends reason.

I think we all bear our scars, some seen and some invisible. You have yours, I have mine. Somehow, when we are together, mine don't seem so deep or important. I think it's the transformational power of how I feel; and that's a fact too.

I remember saying to you once, "What does one do about gravity, it's just a fact." The only reasonable answer: one weaves facts like the how I love you into the fabric of a life, even though true love is, by definition completely unreasonable.

So I will be your muse and I would readily embody Hathor and Lakshmi for your pleasure. But I will also always be your little girl and, yes, Daddy, your submissive because those, too, are facets of my person. Part of meeting me on my own terms is embracing all those facets. You do that so very well and you do so without judgment. You set me free.

I've listened to you songs, Daddy. I've heard your recordings and I've heard the songs that aren't recorded. They all reveal that you are a hopeless romantic. I think it's what gives your song and poetry power. 

In contrast, perhaps, I'm like a mad scientist. I see the world as it is, or so I like to think. I like to think I see things clearly. I seek the concrete like a quest and perhaps it's Quixotian madness to do so.

You are open-ended. You are a dreamer. You build your house from dreams. I would build my house out of granite but I have wild dreams too, and when you hold me tight I feel like anything is possible. It makes me feel like anything is possible after all; after the tears, after the scars; in defiance of all reason and despite my doubt and fear.

These days, Daddy, I think I am foolish to think that I know anything at all. All I know is that I love you. All I know is that when you play my skin like fire and write my name in the night sky, I hear it and see it in ways I never knew possible.

Words fail me except to say:

I love you.

Your Little Girl.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 24



Toys

You arrived at the mall in the early afternoon. You had called Lynn to arrange it. She met you inside the door. Even though you had shared such a naughty, intimate experience last week, she maintained that slight professional aloof. 

Oh, she was warm. She winked at you. But she called you "Miss." She shook your hand, she didn't hug you. Remembering how she had played with your pussy and how you had watched her sucking Ritchie's large cock excited you as she shook your hand. But she was maintaining a cool demeanor and that, oddly, made you somehow more aroused.

The two of you strolled through the mall. She helped you pick out presents — some for me — but also, you got more things for yourself. As you went from store to store, she would make sure the packages were collected for delivery later.

"Did you get your packages from last week?" she asked.

"The very next morning. I had fun trying on all the outfits again and putting them all away."

She giggled and took your hand as you walked, "Yes, choosing them was a great deal of fun, too, wasn't it?" It was nice that she was warming up.

She took all your vital statistics — and your email — and had you completely measured. "We should re-do your measurements every year just to make sure — besides, this way if he wants to get you a present, I can tell him what size you are. There should never be an impediment to a man getting you a present." You both giggled.

Several hours later, by the time you had found almost everything you wanted, the two of you sat down on a bench in the main atrium to catch your breaths. The mall, which had already been full of holiday shoppers, flooded with the kids hanging out after school. The atrium extended from the ground floor to a glass roof four stories above, and the mall's four glass elevators were busily carrying passengers between the four floors of the mall.

The food court on the third floor was packed, a gaggle of teen girls inhabiting the tables along one section right against the rail at the edge of the atrium's open space. In the atrium were a couple kiosks selling various crafty kind of things and there was a large set up of telescopes arranged to tempt the Christmas traffic.

You and Lynn sipped the Lattes you had gotten, and watched the teenaged boys fussing with the telescopes under the watchful eyes of the salesman. The boys were taking turns peering through a couple of the instruments.

"What are they looking at?" you asked.

Lynn pointed at the girls at the tables above. "Stellar bodies, my dear," and you both laughed. But as the two of you watched, you both realized that something more was really going on. The girls were somehow cooperating with their observers. They were giggling and subtly waving and switching seats. They were putting on a show of some sort for the boys.

You two were so curious that, finally, you sneaked up and tapped one of the boys on the shoulder as he gazed asking, "What are you boys so keen at?"

The boy smiled, "See for yourself, miss." So first you, then Lynn took a turn.

The telescope was trained right up one of the girl's skirts, and what's more, the girl had removed her panties and was spreading her legs, giving a clear view of her pussy. It was slightly shiny and wet, and, as you watched, she dipped her finger between the lips.

The two of you returned to your bench and, as you looked up, the girls traded places, another girl taking her place to show her cunnie. One of the girls had seen you take a turn peeping at them and she waved at you and blew you a kiss.

"What naughty children," Lynn laughed.

"Too true," you chuckled.

"Speaking of naughty, miss, how about we shop for some toys for you?"

"I don't know, Lynn," you said, "I don't really know much about sex toys."

"Tell you what — let's do the equivalent of playing dress-up. I'll take you shopping and select some toys for you. And I'll show you how they work and all." You were intrigued. "Come on, miss," she took your hand. "You can be my dolly again. Remember what fun we had last time you were my dolly." She squeezed your had gently. Her voice was subtly seductive.

You were aroused again. The sight of the young girl's moist pussys, Lynn's warm hand holding yours, and the memory of Lynn and her friend leading you through the empty mall, in the black bustier, panty-less, was now making your pussy quite wet. "Let's shop for toys," you said, and the two of you giggled.

Lynn took your hand and lead you to one of the glass elevators which you rode to the top floor. Near the edge of the elevator, its floor was glass too, so if you stood right at the edge, you could look down through your feet. There below, you could see the boys engaged in their pussy-watching sport among the swirl of shoppers.

"It's a good thing I've got panties on," you said to Lynn, smiling, "Or those boys could look right up my skirt for a view of my charms."

Lynn giggled, "Intriguing thought." She squeezed your hand and leaned in to whisper in your ear, warmly, "Maybe we should give them a show later on, pretty dolly."

To your own dismay, the thought thrilled you. You squirmed a little bit as Lynn fussed with you hair like she had done last week. "You're going to come in the day before Christmas, right? I want to help make you into a gift for him."

"Yes — I promise I will."

On the fourth floor, Lynn lead you to the sex toy store. It was particularly tasteful and discreet, nicely decorated inside, up-scale and not at all sleazy.

A rather flamboyant man came over, kissing Lynn on her cheeks and extending his hand to you. "Darlings! How nice to see you, Lynn. And who's you delightful friend? What can I show you ladies today?" not waiting for an answer he took you by the hand and brought you deeper into the store, "Sweetie, we have vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, all sizes, all colors, all kinds of things to tickle a girl's fancy and tickle her fancily, if I do say so." He giggled at his own joke.

You smiled. He was wonderful. Just what was needed to put you at ease.

"Todd, dear," Lynn smiled, "First let's look at vibrators. Let's see one of those toys with the crook at the tip."

"Ah — yes — a g-spot special," he chortled, "Right here, dears. Do any of these appeal?"

Lynn chose one from the case, not too big, but not small. She twisted the switch at the end and it buzzed. She touched you in the place above your upper lip, just below your nose.

"Oh my!" you exclaimed.

"That's about what it should feel like on your love button, honey." Todd said.

"We'll take one of these." Lynn said.

"OK, dears, anything else today?"

"Actually, I'd like to try something a little naughty." You said tentatively.

"Oh, girls, we can do naughty." Todd laughed.

"Todd, let's show my dolly some butt plugs." Lynn said, and squeezed your hand.

"Okeedokee." Todd took you over to a different case with shelves behind it. All kind of plugs in all kinds of shapes were on display.

You had never seen things like these before. "How do they — well — work?"

"Todd, let's take a look at that one there," Lynn said, and Todd handed her the plug. It was red, about five or so inches long, and kind-of like a cone — small at the tip getting wider along its length until it dipped back narrower with a wider sort-of handle at the end. "You see, sweetie," Lynn explained warmly, "You push it into your behind and your muscle closes over the wide part onto the narrow part here and that keeps it in place."

"Oh! Oh — I see." You blurted.

"Some boys like it too, hun," Todd chimed in. You all giggled.

"Let's take this one, Todd."

"But it seems kind-of big around — I mean at the wide part." You said.

"A bit of a stretch can be really nice," Lynn coaxed you. "I think you'll like it. Trust me."

"OK, then." You agreed.

"So we'll need some lube with that, Todd. But let's take a look at those there." Lynn was pointing at the next case over. In the case were some smallish egg-shaped things and what looked like TV remote controls.

"Oh, you are a naughty girl! Those are our latest radio remote-control vibrating eggs. You slide them in and you can be anywhere — the controls could be held by your lover across the room."

"Oh my! That is naughty." You exclaimed.

Lynn said, "It'll do perfectly." She chose one with lots of buttons on the controls. "We'll take these with us, Todd."

He packaged them up and you and Lynn headed into the mall, back toward the elevators, but a little ways along Lynn grabbed your hand and held you beside her while she unlocked an unmarked door between stores. She pulled you inside a dimly lit hallway and, without speaking, lead you along it to a door at its end which opened into a large store-room.

The room was full of manikins and racks of clothes and several tables with sewing machines, but back through all of this paraphernalia was a large three-way mirror and a small dais for dress-fitting and some big comfy chairs. Here she dragged one of the chairs over so its back was facing the mirrors.

She turned to you and placed her hands on your waist, bending over so her face was only an inch from yours. "Time to play dress-up, little dolly." She purred again. The tone was familiar. It invoked the memory of her playing with you last week and you shivered.

"But, Lynn, how shall we play dress-up? We don't have any clothes to try on." You thought you were avoiding the situation.

Lynn reached into the bag of toys you just got. "No clothes, little dolly, but we have these." She lifted out the red plug and the bottle of lube.

"Oh! But Lynn!" you started. But Lynn was swift. The toys were on the comfy chair, Lynn had grabbed you firmly by the waist, and she was bending you down and over the chair's arm. Expertly, as always, she lowered you down before you could orient yourself or complain — so that there you were, with your tail up, bent over with Lynn pulling down your panties.

"Lynn!" you squealed. She was giggling, and you started to giggle too despite yourself. You struggled a little bit, but Lynn held you firmly, and just as swiftly you felt her fingers, slippery with lube, between your hips.

She found your ass hole and slipped her finger in as you squealed again. "Now, now, be a good little dolly," Lynn cajoled, and you giggled again nervously. "But Lynn..." your giggle was cut short — you moaned softly with pleasure. "That's my good dolly." Lynn purred again. "My pretty little doll."

"Lynn!" you gasped. "Lynn..."

"Good little dolly. Now, baby..." and you felt her finger withdraw to be replaced quickly with the tip of the plug. She pushed gently, but firmly. You gasped again. She said firmly, "Good dolly."

She was working the toy into you. It felt nearly like the stretch of my cock when it enters you, but the plug was bigger and soon it was stretching you much more.

Now you are under Lynn's spell. You are bent over the arm of the chair. Your ass is high in the air. You can feel the toy pushing and working its way into you.

The stretch is affecting you oddly. You almost feel like you kind-of need to pee. You are extremely aroused. Your pussy is literally dripping.

"Good little dolly. Good little girl," she is purring. "You look so pretty, darling, with you sweet little ass hole being stretched so much."

"Lynn..." you whimper. But then she pushes a little harder and the plug slips past its widest point and you feel it slip inside. The handle-part is still outside of you, but the plug is now pressing you inside deliciously. It is hot and heady and sexy. 

But no sooner are you getting oriented than you feel Lynn's fingers at you wet pussy, pushing again — and you realize, as it slides into your cunnie, that she has inserted the egg. It too stays inside with no effort and is being pressed toward the front of your vagina by the plug in your ass. It feels very, very sexy and very, very naughty.

You squirm. "Oh! Oh, Lynn..."

"Do you like it baby doll?"

"Yes — yes I do! Oh my! But I made an agreement..."

"Now stand up, dolly." Lynn says, but she doesn't help you up. She leaves you to negotiate the feat. "Hold your toys in, my dear. Don't let them pop out."

"Yes — yes." you right yourself. You stand up. You face her.

It feels very odd to be standing with the plug and the egg inside you. They are pressing on places inside you, naughty places, and as you squirm, it's very stimulating. Lynn holds you by the waist and rocks you slightly so you sway, the toys sliding inside you slightly — it's exciting you and you are beginning to rise in your excitement. You can't help it.

You know I'd understand. You know I'd want you to have a good time.

You are breathing a little heavily as Lynn takes you by the hand. She's pulling you gently, firmly and, as you take a couple small steps, she says, "Now keep your toys in, little dolly."

"Yes, Lynn."

She hands you the bag with the lube and your g-spot toy and your panties. "Let's not forget these, sweetie. Easy now — good girl." She's smiling at you as she takes you slowly back through the store-room. Every step shifts the toys inside you and it has become extremely exciting. 

She is leading you to the door. "No, Lynn. Not out there."

"Yes, little dolly." she says with a sudden firmness. "Yes. You will come with me for a walk." Then, more softly, "Be a good dolly and let Lynn play with you. You'll be glad you did. I promise."

"Yes Lynn..." her stern words have the perfect effect — it hooks into your submissiveness expertly. You will do as she bids. You will explain to me later.

Walking in public is an interesting problem. You are so turned on, that you are struggling not to come. And the task of walking normally and holding in the toys is driving you crazy. You are breathing heavily as you get to the elevator. 

Lynn manages to get you both into an elevator just by yourselves. The doors close. But a few feet above the third floor, Lynn slips her key into the elevator controls and stops it.

She takes your hand again and leads you to the edge, by the outer glass wall of the elevator. You are standing on the glass floor without your panties on. The mall is packed.

One of the boys sees you and Lynn waves. Soon there are three telescopes and three naughty peeping toms looking up your skirt. You are mortified and thrilled. No body else seems to notice. Everyone else is intent on their shopping.

"A little wider stance," Lynn giggles, "Give them something to look at."

As if you are in a dream, you comply. You stand with your legs parted and the boys are riveted. And you start to sway your hips gently — it feels so good — it makes the toys move — it is so exciting. You are gripping the railing and swaying so slightly while you watch the boys watching you from the floor of the mall. No one else is noticing. It is such a delicious, slow fuck.

And then you feel the egg start to vibrate in your cunnie.

"Lynn! You bitch! You — wonderful — bitch! God, that's good!"

Lynn giggles, "Are you going to come, little dolly?"

"Yes — yes."

"I've been thinking about your piercing, dear"

"What, Lynn?"

"Your nipple piercing. Right after Christmas I think. But it won't be healed completely by Valentines day, but certainly by mid-March."

"My birthday is in mid-March." You are trying to hold it together. Lynn is playing with you.

"Perfect."

You are breathing hard. You are going to come.

"Almost there, little dolly?"

"God — yessssss!"

"Ready, baby? Now hold those toys in. Tight now."

"Yesssss"

"Really tight."

"Yesssss"

"Really, really tight."

You obey. You tighten your muscles and as you do, the egg, pressing against your g-spot, lurches into a higher gear. You are coming. You are coming hard. You are standing still, shaking, and Lynn puts her hand on yours and speaks softly in your ear. "Good dolly. Good dolly." You squeal. You shudder.

You know that Lynn is deriving pleasure from doing this to you. You know she is dominating you in her passive role. You wonder if you could get her off somehow. Maybe.

You open your mouth as another, stronger orgasm smashes into you. "Good little dolly." It is so strong, so naughty, so wonderful. "Good little dolly." And another wave crashes. You squeal again. "Good little dolly. Sweet little dolly." And Lynn kisses you. She is trembling. You can taste her acute arousal on her breath. "Come for me again, baby."

And you do, groaning. Lynn slows the egg to a stop. You just barely regain you composure as she re-starts the elevator. The boys have stood up. They're watching you descend. You leave the elevator and Lynn walks you by the hand — right past them on your way out of the mall.

Your toys are still inside you. Walking is very arousing. At the door, Lynn pauses and hands you the shopping bag with the toys and your panties. "Enjoy your ride home, dear." she smiles wickedly. "Think what fun it will be to have him at the controls. Day before Christmas is next Friday. Come at noon."

"Yes, Lynn." You are still so turned on and excited that your voice is breathy.

"When you walk, miss, I think you'll find that a little extra sway in your hips will be exceptionally rewarding." She smiles and closes the door after her. She blows you a kiss.

You've been a bad little girl today. Will you tell me about it? Oh — someday. You know I wouldn't exactly mind your adventure. In fact, you think that telling me about it would make it like including me. You'll have to be more proactive with Lynn. You can't let this happen when you come the day before Christmas.

But the truth is that you are curious what Lynn might do next Friday. Maybe you could get my permission to play a little bit. That would make it OK.

Last time, you contrived to be paddled after your naughty adventure. You know that subconsciously you had felt the need for punishment — like when you were younger and wouldn't do your homework.

You smiled. Truth is that sometimes you wouldn't do your homework so you could get punished. Even as a much younger girl you had found it exciting. You think — that wouldn't be a good pattern to encourage now that you're older and know better.

You turn, and walk with just the slightest extra sway — rather like the sway you used to catch me those months ago. You know she's watching you. You have no doubt she's given you expert advice.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 25



Promises, Promises

I was dreaming:





Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 26



'Twas the Day Before the Day Before Christmas

For days, now, when you came home from university, one thing or another about the house would be different. You were taking exams by day, studying madly at your desk in the library by night. But every late afternoon as you walked through the iron rail front gate, something would be different.

One day, little electric candles had appeared in all the windows of the house and they were glowing in the dusk as you walked the cobble-stone drive and circle to the big front porch. That day, there were juniper garlands draped in the large living room and on the front stair banister. Their fragrance was intoxicating. There were small pine trees with the little Italian lights along the upstairs hall. Garlands had been hung about the bay window casements in your room. Holiday arrangements were on all the mantles.

The next day, there were colored lights on the porch. A tall Silver Fir tree was being decorated by two ladies in the living room; one on a ladder. In their late twenties, they waved at you as you paused to wonder, smiling. But you hurried on to the library.

That evening, when one of them brought you tea on a silver tray, she introduced herself as Louise. She and her sister, Margaret, had taken up residence in the servant's wing. They were here to keep house. You didn't have time to ask more about it.

You were so busy, we barely had time to talk. A hug, a kiss. You were so tired by the time you came to bed, that you often fell asleep in my arms mid-sentence, talking about your day.

But day by day, one thing after another was changing. The house was becoming lighter, gayer. There were fresh flowers on the dining table, in the library, in your room. Each day the beds were made magically, the towels were always fresh.

Your clothes were cleaned and pressed and returned to the drawers where you put them. When you took a brief peek, you could see that even the lingerie you had bought had been ironed and carefully returned to their drawer exactly how you had placed them. You blushed a little bit thinking of Louise or Margaret carefully taking care of your private, naughty things.

The solstice came, the longest night passed, and at last, the day before the day before Christmas, your studies were done. On your way home from school, you stopped with friends at the pub for a martini or two -- or three. You were elated and exhausted.

Your friends were all going to their various homes for the holidays, dispersing across the country. You were the only one staying in town.

"Aren't you going to be lonesome?" one of your fellow physics students asked.

"Don't feel sorry for her. She's got her gentleman-friend to keep her company." It was you friend Kristin. You shot her a warning scowl and she laughed. The gin was making her talkative.

"Oh yeah. You live at that old manse on the hill. You're friendly with that guy?" 

"Oh, she's friendly all right."

"Shut - up - Kris. Yes, he's become my friend. And yes I'm hanging out there all Christmas break."

"Like I said, she's quite friendly." Kristin was a good friend but she could be merciless.

"Kris - shut - up. OK. Look at it this way, you guys. Last Christmas -- where were all of you? Right. We were freshmen. You all ran back to where ever you came from to see your families and boyfriends and girlfriends. Where was I? Right. You don't even know.

"You, Dan. You, Jamie. You Kris -- whose supposedly my friend. None of you know.

"Where was I?

"Well, I was in my dorm room. I was here, in this town, in my dorm room, a-frilling-lone. I got myself a frilling turkey grinder for dinner. None of you even sent me a card from wherever the frill you went home to.

"So this Christmas you still get to go back home, OK? -- but in contrast, this year as opposed to last year, I'll be here, but I get to stay in a place that looks like a Norman Rockwell with a really great guy who treats me like I'm worth something more than the postage stamps you guys didn't use sending me Christmas greetings last year. Give me a break." You were genuinely angry and the hurt of last year's loneliness stung like it was new all over again.

"OK. OK." Kristin took your hand over the table. "I meant no foul. Maybe I'm a little jealous is all. Please don't be angry. You're right. You're completely right. We all let you down last year. But we barely knew each other then and we were just kids. Happy Christmas anyway. In three weeks we'll reconvene and you can regale us with tales of your adventures with your fairy god daddy or whatever he is."

Your friends all laughed. You couldn't help but smile and then you laughed along. "Fine -- I'll tell you all about it. Maybe I'll even invite you over for dinner next semester. I've got to get going." You drained your glass.

It was mid afternoon and snowing when you dashed into the house and around the corner into the living room, still in your coat and mittens. The floor around the tree was piled with gifts. It looked like something out of a Thomas Nast illustration.

You laughed. I came from the butler's pantry through the dining room. You ran to me and wrapped your arms around my shoulders. I could taste the perfume of gin on your breath as you slid your tongue into my mouth. I smiled.

"A little early celebration?"

"Not early -- I'm done. Free for three weeks. Free!"

You kissed me again.

"And yes, it's time to celebrate, Daddy." You pulled off your mittens and kicked off your boots, leaving them in the middle of the living-room floor. You took off your scarf, your coat, you lifted your skirt and, oblivious to the presence of Margaret and Louise, polishing the silver in the dining room, you slid your panties off as I watched. The girls giggled and exchanged glances but didn't pause at their work.

My cock was getting hard in my pants. I couldn't wait to have you. You took my hand and dragged me upstairs to your bedroom. You closed the door. 

You came to me, unbuckling my trousers and sliding them down my legs.

Now you take my cock in your hand -- gently holding my balls in your other one -- it feels so good -- and you kiss my cock's head. I weave my fingers into your curls as you begin to treat me to your caresses, licking, sucking my tip, then taking my cock deep, clear to its base, down your lovely throat.

And so you work me perfectly and long -- teasing me -- making love to me. I rock my hips, fucking your mouth. You have become so good at this. You are truly wonderful.

But then you stand, you turn to your bed table, opening the drawer and getting out the bottle of lube you bought last week. (I note the acquisition.) You quickly lubricate yourself. You turn, lifting your skirt as you lie frontward across your high bed, and spread your legs, your sweet ass high and available and ready.

So I stand behind you, adjusting you. I slide my cock between your ass cheeks and push. You groan and squirm. I flirt with your tight little ass-hole. I push harder.

I am stretching you as I tease. I am opening you slowly, gradually, deliciously, as your cunnie floods. The tip of my cock feels hot, and you stretch, stretch, and then your body yields. I slowly enter you, sliding all the way in while you groan and gasp and begin to pant, impaled on my hard member.

I begin to fuck you. The feel of my skin is marvelous. It is perfect friction -- nice and slow, "Oh my God! Oh, Daddy."

You are hot inside. I know you well. I want to prolong your enjoyment. I know you are a little drunk and I know this makes you slightly wilder. It's wonderful.

In a wave, emotion sweeps through me. It's like a rush of warmth in my heart. I say quietly, as I fuck your ass, "I love you so much, darling."

But you are busy. You are squealing and squirming in your pleasure. You don't hear my quiet declaration. I know it and I smile.

After a bit, it's time to push you harder. Time to lift you and give you release.

So I fuck you harder -- deep, hard, fast now.

"Oh, Daddy. Oh, Daddy." You are moaning loudly. "Oh, Daddy, make me cooommmeeee."

And so you do. You are squeezing me hard as I continue to fuck you, to push you. You flex and spread wider so my cock can push even deeper. You shout, "Dadddyyyy!" You come again -- so hard.

Then, I push harder and deeper and roughly. Gripping your hips I thrust and thrust. Your sweet, tight body is mine.

You know it. You cry out, "I'm yours, Daddy. I'm yours. Take me now. Take meeeeeee."

You are fueled by the glory of your semester's accomplishments, by your lust, by your frustration, by the excitement of your coming holiday, by the anticipation of our fun to come, and by three martinis. You scream my name as you come again and that pushes me over the edge.

"Baby! Little baby girl." The heat in my legs, my balls, my groin -- the rush of heat in my cock as it swells -- and now the delicious pump, the release, coming in your little body.

"You are mine!" I shout. It's wonderful.

"Daddy!" You scream as your body is wracked with another orgasm.

I pump the last of my spunk into you. I hold myself as hard and deep in your body as I can. You can feel me throbbing inside you.

I withdraw.

You lie on the bed before me. Your legs spread open. You turn quickly. You are leaning back on your elbows, grinning. 

Your legs are spread wantonly exposing your dripping pussy. You slip off the bed and hurry to your bathroom returning with a wet cloth with which you clean me off and before I have the chance to get the least bit soft, your mouth is around my cock again. You suck me hard.

You slip your hand down to your pussy, making you fingers drenched, and then, quickly, before I can react, you slide your hand between my hips and find my ass hole with you finger. I groan, "Oh, little baby," as you slide into me.

It is a wonderful treat. You frig me, as you suck. You work me, and, as you slip a second finger into my ass, I explode. "My baby! Oh -- yessss. Oh yesssssssss. My baby!"

I groan again and pump my come into your mouth as you suck every drop. You tease my ass as I twitch in your mouth, withdrawing your fingers and taking my cock deep in your throat again.

You release me. You slide my pants back up my legs, tucking in my shirt and buckling my belt. You stand before me, grinning up at me.

You are tipsy and funny. Your eyes are sparking. "I love you, Daddy." You giggle. "How about a sandwich? I'm starved."

We laugh together.

"Sounds great by me, little girl." I smile warmly. "Welcome back."

But you are too tired. You sit down on your bed. I catch you as you swoon.

I slip off your thick socks, unbutton your blouse. I undress you. I pull back the covers and arrange you in your bed. I cover you and kiss your sleeping forehead.

Your eyes are dancing beneath your eyelids. I know you are dreaming. In your sleep, you whisper "Shujin." I'm stunned. It's a pet name from long ago.

"Thank you, Konekochan." I whisper. 




Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 27



'Twas the Day Before Christmas

You awoke after midnight warm and comfortable but not sure how you had gotten tucked into you bed. You remembered making love with me. Your ass-hole had the feel of having been fucked. You smiled. "Naughty Daddy," you said sleepily.

You sat up in your bed and looked around the room. A fire was in the fireplace. A candle was lit on the table by your easy chair. You rubbed your eyes and stretched your arms.

The clock on your mantle read one-fifteen. The house was quiet. You slipped out of bed on the window-side and, naked, scurried around to pull on your heavy robe in the chilly room. You flopped down in your chair before the fire, tying your hair back.

"What's this?" There was a tray on your table -- a plate covered with a napkin -- "Excellent!" -- ham sandwiches, a garlic pickle, a small salad -- a carafe of lemon water. You smiled, wondering if Louise or Margaret had prepared the tray. How bizarre to have someone to do these things for you. You greedily began to consume the sandwiches and pickle, your bites punctuated by droughts of the water. You were famished.

You looked around your room. The closet door was cracked open. You wanted your fuzzy slippers, so you got up, opened the closet door, and, crouching down, began to feel about the floor of your closet for them -- but they weren't to be found. Feeling deeper and deeper, your fingers touched a stack of lidded boxes against the back wall. "I don't remember these," you muttered, and you pulled them out.

You opened the top of one and, feeling inside, your fingers touched something smooth and round -- unmistakably a Christmas ornament. You brought the box over to the fireplace, lit some candles and began to lift the ornaments one by one. They were ancient. Hand painted, hand blown, in pairs or in threes or fours, but different, not a matched set, an eclectic collection.

You went back to the closet, pulling out box after box of tinsel and garlands and bows and strands of old-fashioned lights. You sat for a long time on the floor, before the fire, surrounded by the boxes and boxes of decorations, nursing the seed of an idea.

"I could make a tree for him using these. As a surprise. I could make it here in my room to keep it secret. And I could bring him in late tonight and give it to him. I could wear my sexy lingerie and be his gift."

You shoved all the boxes under your bed. Blew out all the candles but one and after finishing you midnight snack, tip-toed through the door into my room and snuggled down into my bed. "He's still downstairs," you thought to yourself as you drifted off back to sleep.

You woke hours later. Sun was up. I was asleep. You kissed me on the cheek as you slipped out of bed. You scurried into your room to dress. "I'll have to work fast -- I've got so much to do."

But it took far less time than you'd feared because you enlisted Louise and Margaret, taking them into your confidence. Soon you three had laid claim to a tree that had been gotten extra and left on the back porch. You had pilfered extension cords from various places around the house where they wouldn't be missed. You slightly re-arranged the furniture around your fireplace to make space.

In a couple hours, a very old fashioned Christmas tree stood in your room with a white sheet tucked around its base. The most modern things were the sixty-year-old strings of lights which you plugged in -- they lit -- the tinsel sparkled --magnificent. You three stood back for a final look, but there was no time to admire it overmuch.

You thanked the girls and the three of your hurried downstairs. They fussed over getting you off to your appointments -- hair, manicure, pedicure -- they called for the car, you gulped down the coffee they brought you, they coated and scarved you, soon you were gone.

At the mall, Lynn fussed and flirted and titillated you through gussying you up. She had you bathed at the spa. She had your legs and arm pits shaved -- you had only ever done this a few times -- and she had your pubic hair trimmed. In fact, she had your pussy lips shaved of their soft hair. It was erotic. You couldn't help but feel it. And your fingers and toes were smoothed and softened, nails trimmed and polished a bright red. And your hair was coiffed to her particular satisfaction. Then your brows were plucked -- you'd never done this -- and make up applied.

Lynn sent you off with a small vial of an old perfume in an old unopened package. "This is fifty years old, dear -- not made anymore. I got it for you from a perfumer friend. 'My Sin.' Put a tiny bit on your neck, touch the insides of your knees, and then a little bit beside your pussy lips. I promise it will have a very desirable effect." She smiled mischievously.

It was late afternoon dusk by the time you arrived home, slipping inside secretly, and followed upstairs by Louise and Margaret. It was gratifying to have them ooooing and aaaahing and you all giggled and laughed at the ridiculousness and wonderfulness of it all.

Margaret hurried downstairs to attend to the last of the cooking. "Will he like it?" you asked as you stood in front of your mirror. The sun had set.

"Oh, yes. He'll like it, Little Miss." Louise smiled. "Hadn't you better get dressed? It'll be time for dinner in a couple hours. I'll help you if you'd like."

"Please, yes. I'm really nervous now. I don't know why. But I so want Daddy to love me."

You put your hand over your mouth. Your eyes teared up. Louise took out her handkerchief and, standing very close, carefully dabbed your eyes.

"Now, don't cry, Little Miss. You'll mess your make-up."

"Little Miss. Is that what you two call me?"

Louise smiled in a big-sisterly manner, "Yes. That's what we call you. That's what you are. You are quite young, after all. And small -- shorter than us. You even call him 'Daddy,' you naughty thing."

She chuckled at your horrified look. "Oh we hear your carryings on, Little Miss. The halls will echo. But you don't have to worry about it -- or us -- and you certainly don't have to worry about him loving you. I've never seen a man look at a woman the way he looks at you. He watches you come and go. He smiles whenever your name is mentioned. He's slain. Make up and clothes couldn't make him love you more or less. But he's sure going to enjoy what he sees tonight."

There was a knock at the door from my room da daaa daaa / da da da da. "She's indisposed, sir," Louise called.

"Oh -- yes -- sorry. Just checking," I spoke through the wood. You could hear the amusement in my voice.

"She'll be down for dinner."

"Very well, then. But I have a couple things for her."

"Then leave them there. We'll get them when we're ready."

You heard me laugh, "OK, OK." A moment later, you heard my door to the hall shut and my muffled footsteps traipse along and down the stairs.

The two of you smiled at each other.

"Will you two be staying on?" you asked Louise.

"I hope so. We want to." She began to unbutton your heavy sweater.

"I hope so too. I've been so busy these last couple weeks I hadn't had a chance to take it in, but the house is so much nicer for your work here."

"Thank you, Little Miss." She had folded your sweater and put it away. She was unbuttoning your blouse.

"Why don't you call me something else, Louise?"

She shrugged as she folded your blouse. "That wouldn't be proper. She looked at you earnestly. As much as we like you -- and we like you a great deal -- we work here. Let's leave it at 'Miss' at least for now."

She was unbuttoning your jeans. You had been thinking so much about what you'd been saying that you hadn't really quite noticed how she was undressing you.

"When we're alone, 'Little Miss' will be fine," Louise said in a business-like way. "In front of anyone else it should be 'Miss' -- OK?"

You had stepped out of your jeans and she had walked around in back of you and was unfastening your bra. You breasts were revealed and her fingers slipped into the waist-band of your panties and drew them down. You stepped out of them and Louise threw them in the hamper in your closet.

You were naked. Your nipples stiffened. You turned to face her. She was gazing at you and smiling. "You are gorgeous, Little Miss." Your skin was smooth, your hair was trimmed, your nails were polished.

"I don't know what to do. I've -- I've never really done this before."

Louise grinned broadly. She turned you toward the mirror. "Well, let's think of it this way -- this is what you want him to see just before you -- well -- have him take you. In a way, you are making a gift of your body, right?"

"Oh - very much so. Yes."

"OK, so let's think of how you want to undress for him and dress you accordingly."

"Yes -- yes -- brilliant. Oh -- I have that perfume."

Louise picked up the "My Sin" on the dresser.

"Goodness, I haven't ever seen this." She opened the package and got out the little bottle. It was only two-thirds full.

"Little Miss, hadn't you better go to the bathroom first?"

"Oh, yes," you laughed. 

So you trotted off to your bathroom and, moments later, as you wiped yourself, you felt how your pussy lips were completely smooth. So were the insides of your legs. It was exciting somehow, and your cunnie moistened a little bit. It was intrinsically erotic to be preparing for the night -- to be thinking about how you will seduce me -- to have been shaved and prettied up and now to be getting ready. You felt intensely female in a new way, in a special way.

Coming back to Louise, you took the perfume vial and put a tiny bit on your finger. A little behind each ear and on your neck. And then, as Louise giggled, you put a dab behind each knee and then, shyly, you ran your fingers beside your pussy lips.

Louise opened you lingerie drawer. "What will it be, Little Miss?"

"What do you think I should do, Louise? I had thought I'd wear something really naughty."

"Miss, I think you should go with simple and straightforward. You are so beautiful and young. Now -- what color are your nails? Red -- hmmm -- lovely. How about you wear the pale rose lace panties and bra -- it will go so perfectly with your skin and your nails will be a great match. And let's do a garter-belt and the silk stockings with the light red lace tops. This bra has a little push-up to it -- that's just enough naughtiness. Leave the other, naughtier things for New Year's and Valentine's -- or any other night. Leave hot for those other times. Tonight -- give him your warmth and sweetness."

"Yes. Yes, Louise. You're right."

And so she helped you dress, fussing and primping. She went to the door to my room, and got the three packages I'd left for you there. One was a small corsage in a clear package -- a single, delicate pink rose, beautifully set. The other packages were wrapped in silver paper with pink ribbons and bows.

You opened the first. There was a heavy, hinged jewelry box inside, and inside that was a beautiful cameo, obviously precious stone, on a silver chain. Louise smiled and fastened the chain behind your neck. The stone hung over your heart. "It's beautiful on you."

"My goodness -- it looks very old."

"I think it is. He insisted on wrapping it himself. He said it was his mother's mother's."

You thought to yourself that it was sweet how I'd taken these girls into your confidence -- conspiring a little bit to surprise you. The other box contained another jewelry box -- a diamond bracelet.

Louise gasped. You said, "Oh, my." And you giggled. You put the exquisite piece around your ankle. It fit perfectly. It was heavy. You thought, "Ha! Girls' best friends." Louise clapped and laughed. It was rather perfectly irreverent.

Opening to the armoire doors, she asked, "What dress will it be?"

You stood before the opened cabinet and chose the crushed silk velvet dress -- sleeveless, V-neck, snug bodice, just-below-the-knee length -- a deep red-rose color. Louise got out your bright magenta silk slip. Perfect.

The dress was low in the back and buttoned up. You could reach the fabric-covered buttons yourself, but Louise fastened you, and, stepping back, she said, "I'd better go help my sister."

"Wait, Louise... how -- how do I look?"

"Your clothes look wonderful on you, if that's what you're asking -- but oh -- far beyond how you look, Little Miss, you are beautiful. But you should know that." She smiled and left you alone.

"What an odd thing to say," you whispered to yourself, "I should know..." But as you turned to your mirror you saw something nearly unrecognizable -- to yourself anyway.

There you were, a profoundly beautiful young woman, smiling at yourself in the mirror. It was a funny kind of shock. You never think of yourself this way. You still think of yourself as the girl on the high-school lacrosse team, skinned knees, bruised arms. You think of yourself as the little flute player at marching band camp.

You thought of the night you saw yourself in the hallway mirror -- the night you gave me your virgin body. This was akin to that moment.

Yes, when you saw yourself that night -- well -- you were lovely then too. And it struck you profoundly then -- you hadn't realized how pretty you were. Only tonight, you seemed more grown-up. Your hair, your dress, your make-up -- yes, all these things were magnificent -- but you were seeing the thing Louise had seen -- beyond the clothes, beyond the make up, you were radiating loveliness.

You put your hands up over your mouth. You turned this way and that. The dress revealed your curves. You wondered at how you had become shapely like this. When and how had that occurred?

The clock on your mantle showed seven o'clock. You turned out the lights. The room was lit by the Christmas tree alone.

You sat on the edge of your bed. You closed your eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks -- a very unusual thing for you to think of doing.

Now your eyes are closed. You are so quiet inside that you can hear the whisper of your thoughts even before they become thoughts. Here, in your inner silence, you are aware, again, of the warm presence of your invisible companion. She is whispering to you wordlessly, but you know what she's saying: "Take him for me tonight, my little dear. Please let me in. Please be my vessel. Love him for both of us. I won't take much and I promise I'll please you in return. Let me share the night with you."

You smile, "Of course, big sister. Of course" It is such a sweet moment. And there's that caress again -- the warmth beneath your breast. The thrill in your heart. You know she is touching you.

You are strangely excited. You slowly pull your dress up. You slip your fingers into your lace panties. Your pussy lips are so smooth and suddenly wet. You dip your fingers between them and play with the opening to your cunnie, pressing its top edge against your pelvic bone.

You spread your legs open and play. Easy, easy. Rising, rising. How naughty of you. Your fragrance is blending with the perfume. "My Sin, indeed," you think... teasing, playing...

There are footsteps in the hall, a rap on your door, "Miss --"

"One moment, Louise."

"Yes, Miss. Maggie and I want you to know we're ready."

Your fingers are busy, teasing, keeping you on the edge. "Thank you, Louise. I'll be down in ten minutes."

"Miss --"

"One minute, Louise..."

You tease. You squirm. You pinch you clitty. You begin to come. You open your mouth. You want to groan, but you remain silent. It's such a nice, naughty orgasm. Risky. And you like taking risks. You squeeze your legs together, your fingers still between your pussy lips. 

Then you withdraw your hand, stand, arrange your dress. "Come in, please."

Louise opens the door. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Miss. I was thinking -- how about I lay a fire and light it a little before you come upstairs. You can give me a nod when you want me to. And how about I make you a pallet on the floor before the fire? And maybe bring champagne up -- a couple bottles."

"You're a genius! What a great idea -- ummm -- what's a pallet?"

"Oh -- a bed of blankets and quilts. I would make a mattress here before the hearth with some of the extra bedding in the upstairs linen closets. They smell a little like cedar and lavender, but wouldn't it be nice to lie here right before the fire and in the light of the tree?"

"Like I said -- a genius." You both laugh.

She adjusts your dress. "Oh -- your corsage."

"But where would I put it?"

"You're right." She re-arranges the rose. She twists the ribbon and -- voila! She fastens it in your hair. You glance in the mirror.

"Did I say genius?" You both laugh again.

"Now don't run, Little Miss, but do go down to dinner. Maggie will start you off. I'll be down to help when I'm done here."

You squeeze her hands in yours and, forgetting yourself, run down the hall and the stairs, ever the little lacrosse player after all.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 28



Christmas Eve

You ran around the corner into the grand living room. I was standing, facing the large marble fireplace and I heard you rushing to me. I turned, and you halted a few feet away. I beheld you. I smiled.

"Radiant." It fell short of the mark but I could think of no other word. Your cheeks were more pronounced than I remembered, your eyes were dark and large. You stood in your stockinged feet. You had entirely forgotten your shoes. I saw the diamonds around your left ankle. I smiled again. 

You were suddenly aware of the sensuality if your dress. You could feel the caress of your lace lingerie and the silk of your slip and dress flowing around your legs. You could feel the cameo against your heart and the glorious weight of the bracelet around your ankle.

Your body was revealed in its subtle shapeliness by the dress you had chosen. The deep red-rose of the fabric contrasted the richness of your skin. The V of the dress's neck revealed a slight cleft created by the push-up of your bra and the resulting curves of your breasts were irresistible. The flower in your hair was perfect.

But these were the mere outer trappings, albeit very lovely, of something deeper. You were lit up from within. Tonight you were the source of all light in the room. There was only you. Only you.

You customarily come to me. Tonight, I took the steps, and then, standing close as you looked up into my eyes, I touched your cheek with my right hand and bent down, slowly, to your mouth. With my lips so close that you could feel them brush your slightly opened mouth, I whispered, "Darling, you are -- radiant."

"Thank you, Daddy."

I gently nibbled you lips as you spoke. I reached around your waist and drew you close. You were trembling. My mouth was caressing yours as I spoke again. "I love you, little girl. You belong to me."

You melted into my arms, bending back slightly as I kissed you deeply. You thrilled, your pussy moistened. Your perfume filled my head. "Daddy." You were breathless.

You wrapped your arms around my shoulders and stood on your tip-toes. You slipped your tongue into my mouth. You became the aggressor, kissing me hard, meeting me with equal passion. My arms held your waist tightly. You belly was against my waistcoat. You could feel the buttons. Your breasts were crushed against my jacket. You could feel its lapels on your erect nipples. You wanted to knock me down and fuck me right there and then.

But there was a chime from the dining room. Our lips barely parted. "Shall we have dinner, Daddy?"

"There is only you, my pet." I kissed you again.

You smiled and put your hand over my mouth. I nibbled your fingers. I felt you shiver.

You giggled. "My fingers aren't nearly as nutritious as what Margaret and Louise will have fixed us."

"I suppose you're right." I smiled. "But I could devour your arm." And I began to bite up your left arm.

"Then you could go for my leg." You laughed. I turned you around and, leaning down, I bit your neck.

Your pussy gushed. You felt a little dizzy.

"Oh, Daddy, it's a magical night." I held your waist as I bit the back of your neck again. Then I took your hand. You took the lead. We walked to the table.

The chandelier sparkled above us. Candles were lit in a silver candelabrum near us. There was an arrangement of roses in a crystal bowl. The table was set with my family's old blue-willow china -- two centuries old. The glass was leaded cut crystal, the flatware was Revere silver.

And then there was dinner starting with our drinks -- a martini with a twist for you, tonic and lime for me. Margaret whispered to you, "Eat only a little each course -- there are eight of them." You nodded.

You sipped your drink. You began to tell me about your studies. You regaled me with university gossip. You told me about your friends. And the shrimp arrived, hung around icy cups with cocktail sauce. Next, bread and cheeses with white wine for you, mineral water for me. Then soup. Then arugula salad. Then sorbet.

You got a huge kick out of this. "I never had desert in the middle." I teased you mercilessly about not knowing which spoons and forks to use. You feigned indignancy. We laughed and joked. You made fun of my formality.

Then came shell fish. Scallops, clams, lobster tails, mussels over pasta. More crisp, white wine. Then came the baked salmon with Brussels sprouts. Then the ginger cookies.

You were glad of Margaret's advice.

And then there was a Grand Marnier chocolate mousse and champagne -- well -- mineral water and lime for me. But you sat on my lap and spoon fed me, kissing me between bites. 

You spoke softly about little nothings. I wasn't even paying attention to your words anymore. Just to hear the sound of your happy voice -- feeling your weight on my lap, your fingers in my hair -- tasting another bite of the chocolate, another kiss -- it was good.

You gave Louise a nod and she hurried off to light the fire in your room.

"Would you like to open a couple presents tonight?"

"Oh, yes, Daddy!" You sounded like an eager nine-year-old. We both laughed.

"Let's go into the living room."

"I'll bring these." You grabbed the champagne bottle and your flute glass.

We sat together on the sofa. The fire was warm. The big Christmas tree was beautiful. You rummaged among the packages beneath the tree. "Here! Open this one."

So we opened gifts, taking turns. A sweater, a dress, the houndstooth windowpane jacket you chose for me, a new lap-top for you.

"Let's ask Margaret and Louise in for a moment," I said.

"Oh! Great idea." and you ran to the kitchen to invite them in.

They came, drying their hands, laughing with you. Soon they were opening presents with us. A pair of watches. Sweaters. You ran and got them glasses. You three sat, giggling, chatting, and guzzling champagne while I sat and drank you in.

I hadn't thought how you must have been lonely here -- in a way. You never had friends over. This place had been full of my melancholia and reclusion. Tonight you sat, the much younger, on the rug with these young women and you were talking and laughing and enjoying their company without care. You were like a little star descended from the firmament to take up residence here. You lit up everything you touched.

You poured their champagne and Margaret ran to the kitchen for more and came back with gingerbread boys and with my coffee.

Margaret said, conspiratorially, "You'll never guess what's out front, Little Miss."

"Hunh?"

"Out front of the house," said Margaret.

"Out front?"

Margaret and Louise grabbed your hands and you three piled and thumped to the front door. I followed behind, smiling at your fun.

"OK, OK, OK. Close your eyes." Margaret instructed -- and they brought you out on the front porch, the three of you shivering in the frigid midnight air but warmed by the champagne coursing in your veins.

And just then, the church bells in town began to peal their Christmas change ringing. "Now open your eyes!" Margaret laughed. And she and Louise clapped and chortled.

There, at the bottom of the stairs, was a pristine VW Type One ca 1968 -- a light zenith blue Beetle that looked silver in the porch Christmas lights.

"I don't understand."

"It's yours, Little Miss." Louise announced.

You turned to me. I fished in my waistcoat pocket for the key and triumphantly produced it, handing it to you. "It's yours, Little Miss," I said.

You descended the stairs. The girls followed you. You circled around it in your stockinged feet in the snow. You opened the door. You sat in, you turned the key. It started.

I roared with laughter. Only someone my age would get the joke -- the old Volkswagen commercial that bragged about how they always start. Of course, this one I had pampered for years, having even the little bits of rust and grime removed as they appeared, the engine rebuilt. The heat even worked as if it had just come off the showroom floor.

You turned it off. You came up the stairs, smiling warmly. You looked up at me and quietly said, "Thank you. Thank you. I can go anywhere now -- all on my own."

"Yes. Yes you certainly can. And where will you go first, my darling little girl? Will you go to Paris? London? The thing floats, you know." I smiled.

You looked me in the eyes with quiet earnestness. You took my hand in your cold fingers and pressed it to your heart. "I'll go upstairs with you, Daddy. With you where I belong."

"I love you, little girl."

"I know." Your smile returned. "I know you do."

You took my hand and walked me into the house. Louise hurried ahead -- the fires would need stoking -- so when you took me into my room, my fireplace was blazing. You lead me to the door to your room and opened it. We stepped inside.

On the hearth was a bright fire. On the rug before it was the improvised bed Louise had made. There were flowers and candles on the mantle and across the room on the table by your bay window.

But there, next to your chair, was a beautiful tree. As I took it in, I saw it was lit by the old kind of lights I remembered from my childhood. And, as it came into focus, I realized that it was decorated by the ornaments from my childhood, and from the ornaments I had added to the collection in my earlier years, and the years when...

"Is it OK?"

I passed my hand over my eyes.

"Daddy, is it OK?"

"Oh, my," I said quietly. "Yes. Yes, it's very OK."

You smiled. You took my hand. You gently lead me to the tree. "I found the ornaments in my closet. They're all really old."

We stood by the tree. "Thank you. Thank you, little girl."

I smiled down at you, but you could see the sadness in my eyes. I looked back at the tree.

"So tell me..." you pointed to one of the oldest-looking ornaments, made of glass. "This one... where did it come from?"

"That's one of the oldest. It came from my father's family in the mid-nineteenth century. It came from Germany along with these here -- yes, sweetie -- and those are Victorian --"

So we went through many of the ornaments until I glanced up at the tree-top. "But, darling, I don't know that one -- the star on top."

You reached up, putting your arms around my neck -- you looked me in the eyes and drew me to your lips. You kissed me tenderly. "It came from me, Daddy. Is that OK? It came from me."

A wave of emotion swept through me. I couldn't speak for a long time. You hugged me. You waited. "Yes, darling, it's perfect. A star from my little star. Perfect. Thank you."

You shuddered. You began to cry. "Thank you. Thank you, Daddy. This is the best Christmas ever. Even better than the time I got my infielder's glove." We laughed long and hard at that.

"Now I know what to get you next year."

"What, you'll get Victor Martinez to give me lessons?"

"Darling, I have no idea who that is. I was thinking season tickets or something."

You laughed. "Well, well. There's something I can teach you about. But Daddy," you smiled wickedly, "The night is still young."

You took both my hands in yours. You brought me to the improvised mattress, and urged me to sit. You made me comfortable leaning back on the mountain of pillows Louise had stacked up for you. You poked the fire. You stepped away so I could see you in the light of the tree and the candles and firelight.

Now you are standing there, the radiant beauty -- the little star -- the young lady who owns my heart. You smile, and turning slowly, you begin a sort-of dance -- gently swaying -- organic -- indigenous to your body's instinctive sexuality. You are fascinating.

There is inherent artistry and grace overlaying your deliciously subtle bump and grind. You are teasing me.

With your back to me, you unfasten your dress. The silk opens, and, as you turn to face me, you allow the dress to fall, revealing your breasts, cupped and lifted, sensually, by the peach lace of your bra. You wriggle out of your slip. You step out of the fabric now around your ankles.

You are revealed. Your panties. The lace tops of your stockings. Your skin is particularly smooth tonight. It reflects the light just so. You run your hands up your belly, up over your breasts.

You dance a little closer. Your nipples are hard. I can see the hint of their areaolae straining against the lace. The fabric has lifted your breasts so their lovely shape is emphasizing a slight cleft on either side of your heart. And my great-grandmother's cameo is right there -- just above -- strung on its silver cord.

As you turn away from me, you are giving me the view of your waist and hips. You sway, you gently grind, You hook your fingers into you panty waist and draw them down, bending over, all the way, and I can see you pussy lips. You tarry there, bent over. You know you are arousing me. You know my cock has become hard by now.

It feels so good to be adored. Your pussy suddenly gushes. You are wet. But you take your time. You want to savor the moment. You slowly stand, sliding your hands up your legs, turning again and looking me in the eyes.

You walk slowly to your easy chair. You turn it to face me. You slowly sit on its edge and arrange the pillows behind you so now, as you relax back, you are supported, you can watch me.

You raise your left leg and drape it over the chair's arm. The diamond bracelet sparkles around your ankle. You are giving me a licentious view of your dripping-wet maw. You stroke the inside of your legs. You wet your lips.

You are watching me. You can see my desire. It is so exciting.

You slide your hands to your breasts. You squeeze. It is thrilling -- and as you slide your hands back down and gently touch your pussy lips, you feel a warmth in your chest, a tingle in your spine. You throw your head back and gasp.

You orgasm. You writhe slightly. You look back at me. You smile.

You dip your finger between the lips of your glistening mons veneris. It is smooth and completely hairless. I know you've been shaved, and the knowledge that you prepared especially for this occasion is very arousing to me. You are enjoying the sensation of your smoothness. My excitement is palpable. 

You begin to masturbate while I watch -- slowly, luxuriously circling your clitoris -- dipping your finger into your cunnie -- compelling yourself to come again. You spend minutes upon minutes in this glorious pursuit. Teasing, lifting, pushing, and finally coming hard while you squeal wordlessly, gazing at me as I watch your show of abject wantonness.

It's wonderful. I'm hard and ready, but I'm letting you give yourself to me slowly.

"I adore you, darling," I tell you as you right yourself and stand and come to me, straddling me here where I sit. You begin to untie my tie. Slowly slide the jacket off my shoulders and toss it to your chair. And then, slowly, unbutton my waist-coat. Button by button, sliding it, tossing it too. Smiling the whole time.

You squirm on me. I can feel the heat of your wet quim on my hard prick through the fabric of my pants. You kiss me tenderly as you unbutton my shirt. You run your hands over my hairless chest. You lean down to nibble on my neck while you unbuckle my pants.

Your hands free my priapus. You shift. You lean down and kiss its soft head. The skin feels silky on your tongue as you run it around the cap and you taste the salty, musky pre-come it is leaking in your honor. You take the head in your mouth and suck. You slide your lips over the head. You take my cock in your mouth.

It's so warm and sexy. You feel it pulse and swell. It arouses you to know you are making me feel good. The outer skin slips slightly over the hard interior. It tastes like -- me -- and you take it all the way -- all the way -- until you feel it there -- there.

And you know what to do. You relax. You feel the shift in your throat that allows you to take my cock that final bit deeper. You squeeze it with you tongue. It pulses again. And you begin to work me. Sucking. Milking.

I sigh, "Oh, my baby girl. My darling." I'm stroking your ear, playing with your hair. My cock pulses in your mouth. But you're not going to let me come.

As you suck me, you take my balls in your hand. The skin of the sack has tightened and is holding them up. The insides of the my legs are flexed. As you squeeze, you can feel my balls move inside. You are gentle. You can feel me reacting.

You run your fingers through the strawberry hair above my cock -- right there by your nose -- you squeeze it again with your tongue, deep in your mouth, its tip in your throat. I pulse again.

You run your hand up over my abdomen. The skin is smooth. The muscles are taught.

You slide my cock out and caress your face with it. You crawl up over me, straddling me again. You hold my cock to guide it right there... and you flirt with it, teasing your pussy lips with it -- getting it slick with you wetness.

Then you push down. You feel it enter you. It is hot and hard. It always makes you gasp a little bit. You close your eyes and open your mouth instinctively. You put your hands on my shoulders. You feel my hands grip your waist.

You begin to rock your pelvis, fucking me.

"I love you so much, little girl."

"Oh -- Oh, Daddy."

You reach back and unhook your bra. It opens and your lovely breasts fall gently out. I reach up and cup the dark skin in my hands, rolling your nipples between my fingers.

I feel you suddenly wetter. You reach up and undo your hair. The curls cascade down over your shoulders. The rose falls to the rug beside us. You slide your hands over my chest. You play with my nipples.

You put your hands on my shoulders again. You are urgent now. I grip your waist again. I guide you and urge you on, the tip of my cock caressing your cervix.

You look down into my eyes. "Oh -- yessss. Oh, Daddy! Daddy -- now. Daddy, come in meeee. Daddy, come in meeee now."

"Yesss," I groan. You look into my eyes.

"Now, Daddy."

I rush, I begin to pump. Your cunnie flutters. You can feel the tip of my cock nuzzling your cervix and I feel it twitching against me. You gasp. I groan. You are suddenly aware of that other voice inside you: "Oh God, yes! Oh God!" It is like an explosion in your heart. Your heart is pounding. You open your mouth, and, staring into my eyes, into my soul, you scream while I yell --

"Koneko!" "Daddy!" 

Long and beautiful release. We moan in our ecstasy, our voices harmonizing like wolves.

And then you arch back. Eyes closed. I feel you stiffen. You come again. So hard -- so long -- while you squeal and convulse in your rapture. You feel the last of my hot seed pump into you. You squeeze my cock. Your cunnie is flooded with my liquid. You want to save every drop.

You open your eyes. You face me again. You breath deeply. You weave your fingers into my soft, blonde hair. You lean down and kiss me so gently.

Our lips are still touching -- barely touching.

Your voice, barely a whisper -- "Happy Christmas, Daddy."

I slide my hand up your back and weave my fingers into the hair in back of your head. I grip it firmly and push you against my mouth. Hard -- hard. I kiss you hard.

And then, gently, but firmly, I pull your head back away from me by your thick, curly hair -- with strength -- with tenderness.

You smile. "My Daddy."

I gently blow breath after breath on your face, your neck, your breasts, cooling you. The air tickles you. All the time I'm holding you firmly by the hair. It is so romantic. You lift your arms and I blow into your armpits. It is sheer luxury.

I grin. Still gripping you by the hair, pushing you over, I roll, pulling you under me. You yelp in surprise. I force you down into the blankets, compelling you, with my weight, to spread your silk-stocking-clad legs wide open. I kiss you hard again as I begin to fuck you hard. I take your hands in mine, our fingers woven together, as I hold you down. My chest is crushing your breasts against me. I growl into your ear, "You are mine. You are mine."




Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 28



It is thrilling beyond compare. You are cooing as I bite your neck. You are surprised by my ferocity and strength. I am still holding you down -- you are at my mercy. You know you are overpowered and it feels wonderful. You feel the intensity of my love driving into you with every thrust.

The ride goes on and on. I release your hands and you wrap them around my neck. You are squealing in delight as I'm driving you hard. Harder.

The fire is burning on the hearth. The soft light of the Christmas tree and candles illuminates my face. Your cunnie is sloppy wet with our come. My cock is rock hard. You are now gasping. I am so deep inside you that you feel like I will split you open in your intense sexual excitement.

Then you feel the caress of my cock sliding against your cervix. You gasp again. You dance momentarily on the edge of orgasm. Just there. Just there.

Then you feel the inexplicable caress -- the spirit-kiss now warmly rippling through your heart -- beyond your flesh -- and you feel a fire rush up our legs, up your spine.

It crashes in on you. You scream. You are consumed and transported. You dig your pretty painted fingers into my back. You bite my shoulder. It compels me to come. You feel me pumping again. "My little baby!"

"Daddyyyyy. Oh -- oh, Dadddyyyyyyy!"

You capture my mouth with yours. You wrap your legs around me tightly as you take every drop. I am holding you desperately and it feels wonderful to be held so close.

"Daddy. Daddy," you squeal. You squirm under me. You kiss me again, thrusting your tongue deep into my mouth. You run your fingers through my hair. You drink me in. 

I break our kiss. I nuzzle you hard.

"My little girl. My little girl."

You gasp. You smile. You wrap your arms around me. "Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh Daddy. Now who has who? You are all mine, Daddy. Mine forever."

We are panting. We have melted together. Release and emotion sweeps through you. You feel small and loved and safe and protected. You begin to cry softly.

"My baby girl, my little baby."

"Oh, Daddy -- I love you -- I love you."

We lie like this for a long time. Our grip slowly loosens. We separate. I kiss your tears away. I roll onto my back and pull you beside me. You tuck your nose under my jaw. You smile and sigh deeply.

"Happy Christmas, my Konekochan," I say quietly.

You feel the inner caress -- it thrills you. The wordless message forms in your mind, "Happy Christmas, little sister."

I'm breathing deeply. I'm asleep. You smile.

You are blissful. You are content. You giggle quietly. You whisper, "Take some rest -- I'm not done with you yet, Daddy."

So you slowly, carefully pull away. You stand. You bring a bottle of champagne and glass over to the hearth and sit, cross-legged, next to me. The fire is still flickering. The coals are heaped red-hot. You pop the cork and pour the ice cold wine. One delicious, long drought... love-making is thirsty work. You smile.

You are wet and leaking. You smell your perfume mixed with the scent of my semen and musk of your cunnie through the fragrant fizz of the wine.

You look at me sleeping. It is so good to love and be loved like this. You gasp. You sob a little bit. You sit, quietly savoring the minutes as they pass to the slow tick of your anniversary clock. The wind rattles the windows.

You think you'll wake me soon. Soon you'll stoke the fire to a blaze again. You smile. Yes. It's just about time for the second inning, but first another glass of ambrosia.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 29



Lovely Little Secret

The house was quiet but no longer silent. Beyond the ticking of the clock here in the library where you sat at your desk — beyond the sound of your pencil's graphite point gently scratching your notebook paper — there was the distant sound of movement in this old Victorian manse.

It hadn't been this way last year when you arrived. Then there was just me roaming about — and you occupying the room you had rented in the servant's wing. Then we had fallen in love and you had moved into your own room adjoining mine. But as of the holidays, Margaret and Louise arrived to help get the house ready for that magical night — your mind drifted back to Christmas eve.

You envisioned my cock and how it grew hard in my sleep as you watched, guzzling from your champagne glass before the fire. We had already eaten and given gifts and made love. You were thinking about how hard my cock had grown. It had seemed particularly big.

You grinned, scribbling:

"Big Hard Cock+ tiny little pussy = max. Pleasure..."

You giggled and then wrote:

"actually a derivation —

"Also related to:
"1. The naughtiness factor (F-naughty)
"2. Degrees of submissiveness (O)
"3. Wetness quotient (x * 10^4)
"4. Orgasmic logarithm (log org)"

You removed your silver glasses and rubbed your nose. You thought again about Christmas eve — about how I woke as you sucked me.

You squirmed in your cherry wood desk chair recalling the flavor of my hot come as I pumped it down your greedy throat, groaning as you frigged my ass hole.  Then I had taken you again holding you down so hard you had wondered if you'd break. But you hadn't broken, of course. I had held your legs over my shoulders as I fucked you. You had come so hard you screamed — not for the first time that wonderful night — nor for the last... you smiled to yourself and whispered, "I love you Daddy."

Today you were feeling particularly naughty. You had a secret. It was fun to know that. You wondered about how and when to tell me.

You tapped your pencil on your pad looking up at the panels of the ceiling. Incongruously, you recited to the beat...

"My name is...
"Shake zoola
"The mic rula
"The old schoolah
"You wanna trip?..." 

You closed your math book with a thump. You giggled.

"I'll bring it to ya"

You stood and danced to the door... an adorable little two-step

"Cause we are the Aqua Teens,
"Make the homies say ho,
"And the girlies wanna scream!"

And, opening the door, out into the hall...

"Cause we are the Aqua Teens,
"Make the homies say ho,
"And the girlies wanna scream!"

"Where's Daddy?" you spoke to the empty living room. You skipped around the corner and through the butler's pantry — opening the double-swinging door. Louise was washing the stove. Margaret was reading the town newspaper and cutting out coupons. She glanced up and smiled. "Looking for Him, Little Miss?"

"Yes, please."

"Haven't seen."

"Hmmm" Your brow furrowed. You frowned.

You retreated to the living room — to my piano. Pages of lyrics in my scrawl were strewn around. For a long minute, you read the lyrics on top, but turned away across the room, through the heavy door and down the hall to my recording studio. The outer door was closed... the inner one was open. The room was dark. You took a few steps inside — maybe I was in my chair, but as your eyes adjusted to the dim light — no, not there.

You turned back to leave, and there on the wall, dimly lit by its picture lamp, was the glass case with the three flutes. Silver, gold, platinum. The little padlock on the case was open. You smiled. "Daddy." You knew it had been locked last time you saw it. You knew I had unlocked it in the event you should venture here sometime.

You lifted the little lock through the cabinet door's loop. You opened the glass. You reached for the gold instrument and carefully took it out.

It felt heavy. You fitted your fingers to the engraved keys, your lip to the embouchure hole. Its voice was sweet and rich. It was responsive and it delighted you. Slow Boat to China. Then Chances Are. Then you began Bach's Sonata in E Minor... you began to giggle with the sheer delight of playing but you were soon out of breath and a little light-headed — "I've got to practice — I'm horribly out of shape."

You carefully put the flute back in the cabinet — purposely backward from the way you found it so I would know you tried it. You replaced the padlock — just so.

"Where's Daddy?"

You made your way back through the old house — back to the stairway that went up to where your old apartment used to be, now occupied by Margaret and Louise. And as you passed the doorway — the doorway that lead down the dark stairs — down to... you shivered. The door was the slightest bit ajar. Cool air was blowing gently from the opening. It smelled like the basement — and there was a barely perceptible hint of a fragrance you knew. It was incense; sandalwood, frankincense, myrrh — distant — almost sub-conscious — the atmosphere of your playroom. Your body responded to the smell.

You shivered again. You felt your pussy moisten involuntarily. "Oh — Oh, Daddy!" you whispered.

You hesitated. It was delicious. You knew you would go down. Was I there? Was I waiting for you? You knew you couldn't resist. But just for a moment you stood, riveted in place by the sensation of your own responses. Your heart beat faster. You could feel your face flush. You gasped. You reached up slowly, placing your hand on the heavy brass door knob.

You pushed. The door swung back on its hinges, creaking. The cool air blew into your face and ruffled your skirt, caressing your legs. You were trembling.

Margaret came around the corner. You glanced at her. She stopped and gazed at you.

"I have to do down now," you stammered shyly, almost whispering.

Margaret smiled slightly with an expression that surprised you. You felt exposed. Your knees were shaking. "Yes, Little Miss."

You felt like you were about to come. It was powerful. You were suddenly at sea, vulnerable, at the mercy of this tide of desire that compelled you to obey. It was frightening, but in just the right, exciting way. You were starkly aware that you were my submissive and that you always would be. You knew you belonged to me and it simultaneously gave you a sense of place and security. And you were in love. You gasped.

You turned and started down, holding onto the railing in the gloom. The movement of your legs was exciting. Your pussy was drenched. Your panties were becoming wet.

With each step, the movement of your legs, the slight sway of your hips — these things you were intensely aware of. And as your legs moved and your lovely hips swayed, you could feel your pussy lips moving too. Your clitoris was erect. Your panties were gently stimulating it. And your nipples were stiff, being tickled by the soft cotton of your dress.

You thought back to when you were little and you played "round-up." The boys would be the cowboys and the girls would be the horsies and the boys would catch the girls, rounding them up" and put them in the stable. You were so good at running you could almost never be caught, but you would let yourself come so close and then dash away and then so close again. And finally, you'd let yourself be caught and you'd make the boy tie you up extra well so you couldn't get away.

Truth is, your favorite part was being caught and tied up. You loved the way it felt — it was so exciting.

The door was creaking. You turned, looking back up, and saw Margaret slowly closing it behind you at the top of the stairs. She was smiling openly.

"I have to go..." you began.

She nodded - then the door closed heavily.

It was suddenly dark. You began to shake. You turned. You slowly walked down the remaining stairs. The movement of your legs was incendiary, you were so excited. You were breathing hard. The prospect that Margaret and Louise somehow knew about your playroom excited you all the more — it seemed so very, very naughty.

The incense was slightly stronger and there was another scent. A slight ripple in the air brushed your cheek and slightly stirred the strand of your curly hair that hung down over your cheek. What was that scent? You knew it. Just out of reach.

The air shifted, ruffling your dress again. Now you could smell your own excitement — the perfume of your heated pussy — musky, fresh. But that other scent...

Another step down. And another. Slowly. Your pussy responding. Your clitoris being stroked by your panties. Another gentle breath of air against your face — and you then knew that smell. It was the mysterious oil that had been in that locket you wore that wonderful, naughty night you rode your sex-machine toy. That oil had been intoxicating and exciting — intensifying your sexual response until you had screamed in pleasure, coming over and over.

The memory was potent. You licked and bit your upper lip. You had become extremely aroused. "My God," you thought, "This is my training. My Daddy is training me so well. I can't resist him. I can't help myself. And I love it. I love him."

You reached the bottom stair and you felt it start — a lovely, hot wave of pleasure radiating from your pussy up your spine and down your legs. You squealed as you came hard, grabbing onto the railing in the dim, musty stairwell with the cool stone on either side of you, the openness of the basement around the corner.

"Oh, Daddy," you whimpered as you came. You knew this is what I wanted. You knew you were responding as I had planned and it added to your thrill. "Thank you, Sir," you whispered and, a little wobbly, you stepped down the last stair and turned the corner into the darkness.

You steadied yourself. Your pussy lips were slick. Your clitoris was fully erect now. As you walked, you felt your panties — wet and sticky. You lifted your dress and slid them down and off your legs, dropping them on the floor. You knew this is what I'd want.

The basement was dark, but your eyes adjusted to it and you could make out your way past the stone pillars that held up the house, past the old furnaces, back deeper and deeper — your excitement growing again — back to your play room.

You slowed. You could see the outline of its door - it must have been slightly open. The outline was in gentle, flickering candle-light. The smell of incense and the magic oil wafted through the gap. You gasped slightly. Your pussy flooded. "Daddy?" you whispered.

You took slow steps toward the door. "Daddy?" you said softly. You were trembling again. Your pussy flooded.

"Daddy?" your hand was on the doorknob. You pushed the door open.

The room was lit by candles. There were bouquets of red roses. The love-seat behind the mirror was covered with blankets and pillows. The rug on the floor before the mirror was covered with sheepskins. There were two bolsters and there were pillows. There was a wash stand with a basin and pitcher.

There were three large screens and they were showing videos of you riding your machine and montages of photographs of you in various states of undress and exposure. You could hear a recording of your voice during our love making; cooing, whispering my name, moaning softly.

The videos of you riding your machine were being played in very slow motion. It was extremely erotic to watch and you could see the locket on its chain around your neck and the oil dribbling down your belly.

One of the videos was of the same event, only taken from behind you. Your hips were flexing, pushing and pulling as you rode the machine with its two dildos screwing your cunny and ass. The memory was potent. The image was lascivious and you were becoming very excited.

You could smell the oil. There was a small bowl over a candle — it was steaming — the smell was coming from there. Wisps of incense smoke curled in the room. You felt a little dizzy.

You saw your special locket on one of the bolsters. You crossed the room and stood on the sheepskins, thick and inviting. You turned and saw yourself in the mirror. You were surrounded by images of yourself.

You noticed that there was soft, rhythmic music playing — becoming slowly louder.

Hands shaking, you lifted off your dress and stood naked. You were lovely. Your smooth, young skin — your curly hair. You were struck again by how you had become a beautiful young woman. Without thinking, you slipped your hands up you belly, cupping your breasts in your hands, gently pinching your nipples.

You remembered the locket. You turned, picked it up and hung it around your neck. Heavy and cool against your flesh.

You squirmed in your excitement. It was a perfectly feline movement. You were watching yourself in the mirror, but you realized that one of the video screens was now showing a live image of you as you stood there.

Instinctively, you swayed your hips in rhythm to the music. It was irresistible. You felt mildly intoxicated. You lifted your arms and began to dance. Your images were spurring you on. Now you were downright horny as your inhibitions melted away.

And the locket — magic, warming, swaying on its chain as you danced — began to leak the mysterious oil through its perforations. Its fragrance was intense now and it hit your head. You were losing yourself in your dance. The music seemed to throb and pulse between your temples.

Then you saw me.

"Daddy!" you said and smiled and danced toward me.

I smiled adoringly, closing the door behind me, stepping toward you. And that obvious adoration made your heart explode. You were filled with love. You slowed your movement and then stood. Tears sprung to your eyes.

I came to you and slowly took you in my arms. I was wearing my forest green bathrobe and grey silk pajamas. The thick fabric of my robe enveloped your nakedness. The warmth of my mouth found yours. You felt me suck your breath away. Your knees gave way for a split second, but you were safe in my arms. In my strong grasp. My little girl.

"I missed you so much," you whispered.

"I missed you too, darling." I smiled. "I love you so much."

"I'm your little girl, right Daddy?"

"Always. You will always be my little girl."

You gasped that way you do. "Yes, Sir." 

I guided you backward as you kissed me furiously. We were standing on the sheepskin. I gently wove my fingers through you thick, curly hair and grasped; now pushing you down to your knees. You opened my robe, untied my pajamas and, with the fingers of my left hand still firmly grasping your hair, you began to caress my hard cock, my tight, soft balls.

You gently massaged my sack, feeling the nuts inside. The sensation was wonderful. You began to kiss the silky tip of my priapus, tasting the earthy, salty drops of pre-come.

"Oh yesss. My baby girl."

The music was still filling your head. The oil had found its way down your belly. You unconsciously slid your left hand down, spreading the oil to your pussy lips and between them, across your clitoris. Dipping your fingers just inside you brought some of the oil into the opening of your cunny.

You squirmed on your knees as I looked down at you. You began to sway to the music, lost in you reverie again. You were playing with your pussy as you kissed my cock. You sucked its tip. I pushed your head toward my abdomen, grasping you by your hair. You took my cock all the way in and down your throat, your nose nestled against my pubic hair. You sucked.

I worked my cock deep in your throat. You sucked me, squeezing me with your tongue and treating me to gentle bites as you danced and swayed on your knees.

I knew you were ready. I slowly drew my cock out of your mouth, still holding you firmly by your hair.

I pushed you down, bending you over one of the bolsters. You were exposed and at my disposal. I spread your legs. You pussy was wet and glistening and shiny with the magic oil that had dripped down and you had worked into your sweet young cunt.

I guided my cock to its mark. You turned your head to look up at me. The music stopped. It was as if time stood still.

Now you are ready. You can see the love and lust in my expression. You are on fire. Your heart is pounding. Your pussy is aching. You are bent over the bolster and you can feel how exposed you are. You know you are completely at my mercy.

You feel that thrill — the little sense of danger — you know that even if you wanted to, you could not get away from me now if I wanted to hold you. But you are also dreamy and happy and you can feel how much I love you. You know I am your Master. You know you are safe.

You smile. I smile.

And I push. You open your mouth involuntarily. Your relaxed body yields. My rigid cock stretches you open as you give yourself to me, and you nearly come, groaning, squirming with the slutty, naughty sensation — one long push — you are taking my cock deep into your ass.

I am pushing my cock at it's full depth as you squirm, moaning, enjoying your impalement. Your body shudders. I know you are near coming.

"Do not come." I say sharply. I know the effect it will have — it pushes you closer. "Do not come."

"Oh God," you moan.

"You must wait." and I begin to slowly fuck you.

"Oh, God! Oh, Daddy!"

"Do not come." I bark.

You squeal, "But, Daddy!"

"You will wait." And I pick up the pace.

You groan. Your legs are shaking. You are desperately trying to control yourself. I feel your sphincter tighten.

"Daddy! Daddy! I neeeeeed to coooome!"

"No! You will wait!"

"Daddy, pleeease, pleeease, may I pleeease come?"

Now I fuck your relentlessly. Hard. Deep. A minute passes — or two. An ecstatic time of being fucked.

Then you scream. "Daddy, pleeease."

I wait — just a few seconds more. I feel you beginning — I know you can't hold it any longer.

"Now. Come now. Come for me, Konekochan."

And you do — explosively. You scream. Your whole body convulses. I am driving you right through your orgasm — driving you to your next. My cock is sliding in and out of your ass — thrusting deep and hard.

It feels wonderful to be taken and controlled. You are about to come again.

"Daddy, may I please come now?"

My voice is warm and excited. "Good girl. Yes. Come now."

It rises from your loins — from your ass and pussy. Luxurious now. So, so naughty. You spread your legs and undulate as I fuck you. You moan. And the moan turns into a long wail.

"Good girl. Good girl."

I hold my cock deep inside you as you writhe in your pleasure. "Good little girl. That's my baby."

You are gasping. You are crying. You are spent and fulfilled, saying softly, shakily, "Oh, my God — Oh, my God — Oh, my God."

My hands are on your hips. "I love you, little girl."

You suddenly sob, "Oh, Daddy — Oh, I love you sooooo much."

You cover your face with your hands. You cry with abandon. You are thinking of your secret.

I slide my cock out of your hot, young body. I quickly move around you and take you in my arms, lifting you. Your wrap your arms around my neck and hold me tightly.

I know you are crying in release. All your worries, all the tension — anxieties about school, worry about your friends — melting away. I don't know that you are also deciding to tell me. You are letting go of your secret and it suddenly feels much bigger than you thought.

You are filled with emotion — pure emotion boiling in your wild heart — and you are filled with joy. You nuzzle me and you sob — an even deeper wave or release overcoming you.

You are safe in my arms. "Oh, Daddy! Oh, I love you so. I didn't know I needed to cry."

"My little baby girl. My sweet, little pet."

Your face is buried in my neck. Your naked body is held tightly in my arms. My thick robe is around you. You are warm. You know you are cherished. "Oh, Daddy. My Daddy," you sigh.





Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 29



You pull away from me and smile. You kiss my mouth softly, tenderly. You wipe the tears from your face.

"Thank you, Sir." Your voice reveals your deep happiness. You weave your fingers through my hair. You pull me to your mouth again and kiss me hard and long.

My cock, having softened, twitches. Your small hand finds it and squeezes.

"Let's clean you up a bit, Daddy."

"Yes, little girl."

So you slowly stand — a little wobbly — so cute as you walk, now, to the wash stand. I arrange myself cross-legged on the floor as you pour warm water from the pitcher into the basin. You dip one of the cloths into the water and return. You wash my cock — not that it's visibly soiled — and you repeat the process until you are satisfied.

I am enjoying the attention. My cock is hard. You are serving your Master well. You kneel in front of me, pushing me back, giggling as I recline on pillows and you straddle me.

You kiss my mouth and undulate your body against me expertly as you work my cock into your warm, wet pussy.

"Now, Daddy — it's your turn."

I gasp. You are perfect. You are fucking me now, so beautifully — and you sit up and smile down at me. You take my hands and place them on your breasts. I squeeze and you arch back, moaning.

You look back down at me and smile. "Daddy..."

"Yes, Koneko."

"My Daddy — you know I love you, don't you Daddy."

You are playing with me as you fuck me, teasing me, beginning to urge me. The tip of my cock is so deep that it's rubbing on your cervix.

You moan softly.

"Yes, little girl, I know."

"I have a secret, Daddy."

You are thrilling me. You smile mischievously. My hands are on your waist, guiding you.

"Do you want to know my secret, Daddy?"

You pull me over on top of you, your arms and legs wrapped around me, holding me close.

"Fuck me, Daddy. Come on, baby boy. Fuck your naughty little pet."

"Oh, Koneko."

"Good boy. Do you want to know my secret, Daddy?"

"Yes, Konekochan." You are so good at this. You know just how to please me.

"Are you sure, Daddy? I think you should ask me to please tell you my secret."

I feel your cunny tighten. You gasp. "Oh, Daddy, I'm so close. Ask me Daddy. Ask me to tell you."

I am close too. My pace has quickened. "Yes, yes — tell me, please tell me."

"Good Daddy. Good boy. I want to tell you, but I don't know if I should until you come."

I feel you shiver. You are enjoying the game.

"Tell me, tell me, Koneko."

"Daddy — I want you to come in me. I want you to come, then I'll tell you."

I'm so close now — so close. "Tell me, little girl. Tell me."

"If I tell you, you have to promise to come fast."

"Yes, Koneko."

"Promise, Daddy."

"Yes. I promise."

"Are you ready to come, Daddy."

"Yes, oh, God, yes."

"Come now, Daddy — come now while I tell you."

"Oh God — Koneko!"

"Daddy —"

"Yes, yes."

You feel me twitch inside you. You smile. "Good boy." You feel me swell.

You eyes are suddenly wide. Your orgasm has begun.

You squeal. "I want a baby, Daddy." You shout, "Give me a baby. Come, Daddy."

It's too late to think. My come is shooting into you — so deep, so hot. "Oh God!" For me, it is the ultimate erotic moment. You spread. I feel you coming.

"Come, Daddy. I want a baby." You feel me pumping. I cry out and you shriek in the sudden realization of what you have done. You are consumed by the flames of passion. It is deep, deep inside you. It is all-consuming — instinctive now. You grip me harder than I've ever felt you hold me. You bite my shoulder — hard. You scream, almost like a growl deep in your throat and I am pumping my seed into you.

"God!" I shout, "My baby, my baby girl!"

Your cunny is fluttering. Your cervix is twitching. You are holding me in a grip so hard it's as if your life depended on it.

You lift your face from my shoulder to my mouth. You thrust your tongue inside and suck. You are squirming on my cock, slowly screwing me, holding me inside as the last of my come flows into your body.

"Mine!" you shout. "You are mine! Forever!" Your pussy tightens. You throw your head back against the sheepskins and come again, your whole body shuddering. "Mine! Mine forever!"

I bite your neck. "Yes," I growl, "And you are mine."

Then you laugh. A deep, rich laugh. Intensely female somehow. You take my face in your hands and look me in the eyes and laugh, "Mine. You are mine forever."

I smile. "Yes. Of course I am."

I shift. You grip me tighter with your legs and I collapse back onto you. "You're not going anywhere." You laugh and so do I. Then you are my little girl again. "Was I very naughty, Daddy?" And you laugh the deep, rich laugh again.

As you emerge from your reverie, you realize you feel slightly intoxicated. The oil is warm on your skin and on your pussy. You are aroused.

My cock is still hard inside you. I lift my head and smile at you as you squirm on me and gasp. "I was naughty. I know. I hadn't meant to tell you. But I couldn't stop myself."

I slowly slide my cock out and in, beginning to fuck you again.

"You were very naughty, Konekochan."

"You close your eyes."

"I'm sorry, Daddy."

"No you're not."

"Yes, Daddy." You smile. You open your eyes. "Are you angry?"

I smile. "No, Koneko. I'm glad."

You burst into tears again. "Fuck me, Daddy." You sob. "Fuck me hard."

And so I do.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 30



Some Little Girls Do

You were dreaming.

You dreamed we were in our bed. You were lying next to me, facing me. You were small – a little girl – about nine years old. You could feel someone behind you – sleeping. Their arm was draped over your waist. Their scent was so familiar – like roses – like soft, feminine perfume - warm.

You reached up in the dark and touched my mouth with your small hand and said softly, "Daddy, when I grow up, can I marry you?"

I replied, sleepily, "Daughters don't marry their fathers, baby girl."

"Why, Daddy?"

"It's – um – just not customary. Besides, when you grow up, you'll fall in love with a wonderful man and you'll barely have time for me." You could hear the smile in my voice.

"No, Daddy, I'll always have time for you. – – – Daddy?"

"Shhhh. Go to sleep."

So you whispered, "Some little girls do, Daddy." And you snuggled your face into my chest. "Some little girls do."

In your dream, I wove my fingers into you curly hair. You listened to my heart beating as you drifted.

And as you rose from your dreaming, back to your young womanhood, you felt my fingers in your hair as they were when we fell asleep. When was that? And you felt the warm comfort of our bed and its familiar smells – male, female, sex. You couldn't remember getting in bed. But you could feel the wetness between your legs. And your sweet ass felt stretched and you felt so – fucked.

You smiled and squirmed. Your arm was over my waist. You pulled me closer.

"Some little girls do," you spoke softly.

I stirred, "What's that, my pet?"

You lifted your head to my mouth and answered me with a lingering kiss, your tongue teasing me as you held me – firmly. It was wonderful to be so close and so in love. You pushed me onto my back, climbed on top of me, straddling me. You lay your head on my shoulder. You were asleep in an instant, and although your weight kept me awake, I was so happy to have you there. I drew the down comforter higher over us and smiled. I contentedly listened to your quiet breathing for the hour or so 'till dawn.

As you woke up later, you smiled – memories of the night before began to sift back into your thoughts. You had been drawn to you playroom. You had danced as the mysterious oil had worked its arousing magic. You had embraced me, surrendered to me. I had come deep inside your fertile cunny as we screamed in pleasure.

You squirmed in the dim light of my room – in the deep, soft warmth of my bed – our bed. I was up – you were alone. You were sleepy and happy, and you slipped you hand down between your legs. You were still wet. You dipped your finger between your pussy lips and gently, gently stroked your clitoris.

You shivered in your pleasure and sighed, "Oh, Daddy – some little girls do."

You played slowly and easily – keeping yourself aroused and building just ever so gradually while you thought about last night. Thinking about your secret – or what had been your secret – that you had stopped your birth control. You had fucked me many times since you stopped, but last night you knew you were fertile. You thought about your Daddy making you have a baby. It was so erotic and wonderful.

You remembered crying in joy and release as I fucked you hard afterward – and how you had slid into a dreamy, happy sort-of drunkenness as you held me – so close. Perhaps it was the perfumed oil that put you in that state.

You played with your sweet pussy, looking back to the night before, and began to remember having then been wild and aggressive, riding me and taking your pleasure over and over. You remember me holding you very firmly and tying your arms back. You remember struggling and laughing and me bending you over again, pushing roughly into your ass while you screamed and came.

"Oh Daddy, I love you." Your fingers were moving faster.

You remembered how later, I carried you upstairs and helped you bathe and get into bed. You remembered how I played with you until you came again. You remembered how I entered you and put my seed deep up inside you. You were almost asleep when I did, but you remembered.

That memory pushed you to the edge in our bed that morning, your fingers pinching your clitoris.

You remembered how I had growled in your ear as I pumped my come into you – "Come. Come now." And, as if on command, you had come. It was nearly involuntary. You couldn't help it somehow.

I had purred, "Good girl, Good little girl."

You pinched your clitoris hard. "Good little girl," I had said. "Come for your daddy." And you came, remembering those wonderful moments of our love-making. So sweet. So hot.

You shuddered, gasping. "Oh, Daddy – Oh, Daddy – I love you."

Then you lay quietly. The soft warmth of our bed surrounded you. The room was quiet.

You sat up. You smiled to yourself. "Some little girls do, Daddy."

And so later on, when you went downstairs, wearing your linen nightie under your heavy kimono, you found me drinking coffee and nibbling on divine toast in the living room. I was wearing jeans and a black watch tartan Pendleton, reading the Saturday New York Times.

"Breakfast, little girl?"

You smiled and sat next to me on the couch. "Yes, please Sir."

I poured your cup. Two lumps of sugar. Milk – just the way you like it. "Divine Toast, Koneko?"

You grinned as you took the buttery toast from my fingers. Divine Toast – it was a meme of ours. To cheer you one time, I had invented an origin story... "Tell me the story, Daddy."

I chuckled, you giggled. Our eyes met. I brushed your curls from your forehead. You smiled – lovely, radiant.

"In the beginning the world was dark and without form and Goddess was bored and lonesome so she created the stars and the earth as a hobby. And she created all the creatures on the earth – large and small – but she was still lonesome. So, against her better judgment, but driven by sexual frustration, she created a man to keep her company."

You sipped your coffee and smiled.

"Now, at first all was pretty good. Even though he was smelly and unruly at times – even though he burped loudly (she tried to train him not to) and enjoyed hitting things with sticks (she couldn't understand why), he listened to her talk and he was more than willing to cavort with her whenever she wanted. And she clued him into the kinds of things she liked – so all was well – for a time.

"He was fun to invent things for. Like tea. But greatest of all her inventions – her gifts to mankind – was the invention of slicing bread and heating it over a fire to make it slightly browned and crispy. She would serve it to him with butter and honey and she called it toast. Devine Toast – the Goddess's greatest gift."

You grinned broadly – "Yes, Sir, but tell me again how womankind came to be."

"Of course – it's obvious. When the goddess got tired of man, she made a creature in the likeness of herself to keep him occupied in hopes he would leave her alone. And she called the creature woman and taught her the ways of the Divine Toast that she could ever be man's perfect companion."

We laughed. You buttered a piece of toast for me. "How am I doing?"

"My perfect companion as always, little girl."

You leaned to me and kissed my mouth. Your lips were buttery and sweet.

So the morning passed gently. We read, sitting next to each other. You rubbed my feet while I ranted about stupid politics. I helped you with your homework. You read to me (wearing my grandmother's silver glasses) out of your Women's Literature class books .

The afternoon sun came around to shine in the west windows, made particularly brilliant by the snow outside.

"Let's take a walk, little girl."

"We'd better bundle up then, darling man." You stopped and looked thoughtful.

"What is it, my love?"

You shook you head – "I don't know – I – I've never called you that. 'Darling man'"

"No – no you haven't."

"It feels odd," you smiled, "I wonder why. You know – I had a dream last night – or this morning, really. I can't quite remember it. But I remember telling you – oh, never mind. I'll go get dressed." You kissed me and skipped to the stairs, which you ran up.

I watched you in awed amazement. You were a stunning beauty. Your shape was subtly revealed by the flowing silk. Your girl-cum-young-woman manner was riveting – the grace of your youth.

You constantly surprised and delighted me. You could be so disarmingly innocent and yet so mischievous. You so obviously played to the little girl role – perhaps a natural function of your submissiveness. But you could be remarkably sharp all of a sudden. And in those moments it was plain that your head was full of thoughts within thoughts and layers of complexities.

So you had transformed in that moment from the young lady reading me poetry to the girl skipping across the parquet. I smiled and shook my head.

I thought back to last night. I thought about how you had been so lost in your excitement as you fucked me. You had ridden me roughly and long, digging your fingernails into my flesh as you ground your cunny down on me, biting me on my shoulder so hard that you drew blood. I had spanked you. And that only made you more frenzied. You were incredible. I had finally tied your hands behind you and fucked you hard. You screamed with pleasure and you had fainted away just as I was coming. I pumped my come into you as you swooned.

"My God," I said to the air that still held the fragrant memory of your passing. "My God. You make love to me like the Goddess of Devine Toast herself then skip across the room as if you are a little pixie girl. But – that's right – you are just a little girl. I forget." I chuckled. And I even marveled at that. It had been sneaking up on me... happiness.

I groaned. "No – not that!"

"No?" You were coming downstairs wearing your favorite new wool pleated skirt and sweater. "I thought you liked it."

"What? – Oh – Oh – no – I mean yes – I mean I love it. I was talking to myself."

You pranced over to the sofa and kissed me on the head. "Silly, silly Daddy." You were giggling.

I playfully caught your wrist and swung you around the arm of the couch so you collapsed on my lap laughing.

And when you saw the kind but earnest expression on my face you were suddenly quiet. You smiled gently, but with a kind of open honesty.

"You do that on purpose, don't you?" I asked.

"Do what, Daddy?"

"That – that thing you just now did."

For a split second you looked puzzled – and then you took my meaning. "Yes – yes I do. I love you and I like to play with you. It makes me happy to be your little girl and I think it makes you happy too.

"I'm sure there are all kinds of psychological reasons that would explain – at least in part – why I get the sense of security and belonging from this. I know I'm young. I know you're older than me by quite a lot. The years will pass, but I always want to be your little girl – – –Sir." You grinned.

You took my hand. "Being your little girl makes me feel safe and cared-for. And I love calling you Daddy. And I know you like it when I do." And then you looked down and your voice got quiet. "And then – you see – I am your submissive. I love being your submissive. I know it sounds counterintuitive, but there is a kind of freedom and power in it.

"And also – also – I love you. I love you so much.

"So yes – I do it deliberately. I know when I'm doing it. I'm very conscious of it. It is an expression of my love. I belong to you, Sir."

And so you had done it again. Caught me off guard. Little girl – yes and yet – I thought – not so much.

I smiled. "I have something for you to wear today."

You beamed, "You're such a good Daddy." And we laughed together.

I pulled you to your feet and brought you out to the front hall.

There was a box on the bench. It looked like a large dress-box – a couple feet wide, several feet long, and 8 inches deep. It was made of thin wood and held fast with old canvas straps. The wood was lacquered and hinged.

"What is this? How do I undo these straps – these buckle things?" You eagerly began to fiddle with the straps like a child on Christmas morning. Soon you had figured them out and undid them and carefully lifted the box open.

Its contents was wrapped in thin, white fabric. Something told you to be careful. You folded the fabric back.

It was a coat. It was a fur coat. You had never seen one before. You were shocked.

You put your hand on the fur. It was remarkably soft. And the warmth of your hand was immediately reflected – it was incredibly warm. You gently stroked the coat. It was one of the most wonderful things you had ever felt.

"Daddy – is this real fur?"

"Yes, it is, little girl. It's a very old coat."

"Oh – oh, my. But, Daddy – – I'm not sure – – I don't feel good about wearing it, I think."

"Yes, I understand. I think I know how you feel. But these little animals gave up their lives long ago – before people thought much about how the little animals were being treated. This coat was made seventy years ago, my love. It was my grandmother's. It's like a piece of history.

"I have it kept with a few others of my grandmother's and my mother's in special refrigerated storage. I had it taken out of storage and the lining repaired so you could wear it on special occasions this winter.

"Here, my love, try it on. There's no harm in it." I lifted it out of the box. "I think you'll want to take you sweater off, darling. You'll find the coat very warm."

You silently pulled your sweater over your head. You arranged your blouse. I held the coat as you slipped your arms in feeling the satin lining. The coat was a little heavy – but it fit you perfectly. I buttoned you up.

"My God it is warm," you said.

"And there's a matching hat." I lifted out a beautiful fur hat. I placed it on your head.

I stood back. "Oh my! Darling – take a look."

You turned and looked at your reflection in the tall hallway mirror. A dark-skinned Russian princess stood there. The coat was a rich dark, dark brown with ripples of deeper color. It was slightly closer at the waist, and flared out to below your knees. Its collar was wide and luxuriously beautiful. And there on your head was a Russian hat.

You gasped. "Shujin! Oh – it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. What is it – or – are they – or..."

"Yes, darling. It's Russian Sable."

"Sable – I think I've heard of that."

It feels wonderful, doesn't it? When I was a kid, I used to wear it sometimes – just because it felt so wonderful."

You laughed. "And not because," and you sang, "You wished you was a girlie just like your dear mama?"

I was delighted at your lyrical reference. "HA! How Pythonesque of you, my love!"

You laughed. "OK, Daddy – I'll try the coat. I suppose if the little sables were skinned so long ago, there's no further harm being done by me wearing the coat."

"Yes – " I began to put on my long coat. "I suppose if you wanted to look at it this way, you could think that by wearing it, you are honoring the little guys."

"A perfect justification, Daddy." Your tone was melodramatically wry. "Would you help me on with my boots? I – I don't want to take the coat off." And you giggled.

I smiled. "Of course."

"Sir, are you sure you don't have Lurch or Uncle Fester or Cousin It hiding somewhere around here?"

"Why – do I seem like Charles Addams?"

As I opened the door, its bells jangled.

"Yes – I think you kinda do. Don't forget your hat, Daddy."

I put on my Astrakhan hat. "Come, Czarina." And I offered you my arm.

We stepped out into the frigid mid-afternoon. The snow was piled high. Our breath steamed. It was well below freezing.

But you were completely toasty. It was wonderful.

You held my arm as we made our way long the streets - first down the hill and then beginning up the next. The snow, easily three feet deep, was cleared off the streets and sidewalks. And the couple inches of last night's accumulation made the world look clean and fresh. The bows of the firs and hemlocks, burdened by their frosty covering, swayed gently in the slight breeze. White powder blew off the roofs and chimneys. The sky was Paynes grey and the air smelled like snow.

Wearing your coat was a study in luxuriousness. It weighed a bit, but it was so warm. The satin lining slid past your legs easily as you walked. The hat kept your head completely warm and your ears didn't feel a hint of the 18 Fahrenheit degree day. And you became more and more aware that you were wearing a thing of unusual beauty – and it made you feel like a million bucks – like a princess indeed.

We climbed up the steep University Campus. People hurrying along sometimes cast long glances in our direction. We cut a striking couple.

Inevitably, a group of your friends spotted us and waved. You waved back. The kids made their way toward us, weaving through piles of snow until the half dozen students stood around us huffing and puffing while you held my arm tight, smiling and gaily greeting your friends.

"Hey there," one of the young men spoke out, "We were wondering how you were. How was you Christmas?"

You smiled and spoke warmly. "We had a lovely Christmas. It was great."

One of the young women smiled and took my hand. "Well, hello – remember me? Kristin. The doughnut shop." We had met the day you took me walking – the girl you had played with on the phone back when I was away in California.

I smiled, "I certainly do. How nice to see you again."

The young man put out his had to shake mine. "It's really amazing to meet you. My mom has all your records. Oh – And I really like them too."

I chuckled. I glanced at you taking this in.

"Yeah," said one of the girls. "I used to listen to you when I was little. I really like that stuff."

Glancing up at me, you saw the look of amusement on my face.

"You should hear what he's writing these days," you said and squeezed my arm as you looked back at your friends.

"God, I'd love to," said another of the boys.

"That would be amazing," said another.

There was a pause. You hadn't quite meant it that way, but it gave you an idea.

"I know – you should all come over for dinner sometime." You said, "We could have a dinner party. And we'll get him to play for us after we eat."

You could feel me tighten slightly. All faces were on me – eyes wide. I was stunned. It was just a split second, but an obvious hesitation.

You squeezed my arm and turned slightly toward me. I was staring into space. You looked up at me and said quietly – an aside to your friends. "He's very shy. He's insecure." You were enjoying your slightly authoritative role.

I looked down at you. I opened my mouth to speak, but you beat me to it, saying, "Sir, may I please have my friends come for a dinner party? Afterward, you can play for us."

"But – but – I haven't played for – – for years."

"You play for me."

Yes – that's true. But..."

"So these are friends – a friendly audience – you should at least try."

The young man who had spoken first said. "Please. Please try."

I was stunned. I looked at your friends' eager faces. I looked down at you. It began to snow. You were smiling at me. You reached up and touched my cheek. "Please, you'll be glad you did."

I touched your hair, tucking into you hat. "Yes, of course." I turned to your friends. "Forgive me. I've lived so long as a recluse, I've forgotten my manners." I smiled, they smiled. "Please come to dinner. It will be lovely, really. I would be truly delighted."

One of the girls quietly said, "Wow."

Another said, "Brilliant."

One of the girls said, "Can I bring my boyfriend?" And soon you and your friends were clamoring and laughing.

Kristin was feeling the arm of your coat. She said to me, quietly, "This is real fur. I've never felt real fur. My God – how beautiful."




Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 30



I smiled. "Yes. It was my grandmother's coat."

She smiled and said in a husky whisper, "She really has no idea what she's wearing, does she?" I could see now that she was a little older than you.

I returned the feigned intimacy. "Not really."

She chuckled. "It's better that way." She tugged on my sleeve and we laughed.

You and the other kids were saying your goodbyes. Kristin turned back to the group. And they plodded away laughing and waving over their shoulders.

We stood holding hands. The snow drifted gently down. The short day was waning. The streetlamps were switching on.

We were standing by a long stone stair that climbed up to one of the old University buildings. You stood up on the bottom stair so your nose nearly met mine and you leaned in, wrapping your arms over my shoulders and around my neck. As you snuggled your face by my ear, the soft, warm fur of your coat rested against my cheek and neck.

You whispered, "I love you, Daddy," and you squeezed me. "Are you happy, Shujin."

"Yes, little girl, I am."

"So am I. You know, I have mixed emotions about having a baby."

"Yes, Koneko, so do I."

You stood on the stair talking quietly.

"I think I want the baby for all kinds of good reasons – some of them instinctive. Also I have been finding the thought of getting pregnant – specifically, of you making me pregnant – incredibly erotic. I think that I desire being pregnant, probably means that some part of me just feels ready and right."

"Yes, my love."

"So when I think of being pregnant, it seems wonderful and I get excited and – I don't know – glowy.

"But when I think of having a baby I get pretty frightened. It's so much responsibility and I have things to do first. I don't know how to raise a child. I – I had such a strange childhood myself... and it's barely over."

I smiled and tucked that strand of hair back under your hat.

"What if I'm pregnant, Daddy?"

"Little love, if you're pregnant, then we'll decide how to have a child in our lives. It will change some things – not others."

"Maybe if Louise and Margaret help us, I can still go to school."

"Yes, I was thinking something like that."

"OK. I feel better. Daddy, I should start my birth control again."

"Yes, probably. But you'll have to wait to see if you are pregnant first."

"All right, Daddy."

"Daddy, I know I should have thought about it more before I did it. And I should have talked to you. I'm both sorry I didn't and also, I'm not so sorry.

"I think I wanted to feel free and to have a secret and," you hesitated, thinking, "I think it gave me a sense of a kind-of control of my life or something. It was something of mine. My very own. There is so much in my life that feels out of my control. I know that sounds crazy." You hugged me again and whispered in my ear, "But, Daddy. Let's go home and make love again... knowing we might still get pregnant, OK? This one more time. All of a sudden I want you in me. Make love to me, Daddy – please – all night long."

You kissed me and took my arm again – my little Czarina. We walked through the darkening streets happily and in silence. It was snowing in earnest now and there was no traffic in the streets. People bustled and children were playing in the roads. A few people. laughing, came skiing up the center of the road, now with three inches of new snow.

As we walked up the driveway, you leaned you head on my shoulder. I held you around your waist as we walked.

"You know, Sir, I never imagined I would be living this life – I mean the life I have now – here with you. This is my home, isn't it?"

"Yes, little girl. It is yours."

"It is ours. So – this morning I had a dream. In my dream, I was just a little girl and you were my Daddy and I asked you if I could marry you when I grow up."

I chuckled and said, "That would be somewhat less than customary."

You stopped walking and laughed. "I can't believe you just said that! That's what you said in my dream. Anyway, in my dream, I told you that some little girls marry their daddys."

We laughed together and hugged and we stood looking at the house in the early darkness. Margaret and Louise had put one of those little electric candles in each of the many windows – all the way up to the dormered ones in the top of the house. At the very top, here in front, they had hung colored lights in the cupola matching the ones they had hung all along the porch. The house hadn't looked so happy since...

"You're far away," you squeezed my hand.

"I was thinking that the house hasn't looked so inviting for many years."

"Are you happy, Daddy."

I took a deep breath. "Yes. Yes, I am, Konekochan."

We walked hand in hand up the driveway, climbed the stairs to the porch. The door bells jangled as we came inside. Margaret was there and fussed over you, helping you off with your boots, carefully putting the coat away.

Louise came around the corner from the living room and asked, "I started the fire in the living-room and laid the fire in the your bedrooms. What would you like for supper?"

"Could we please have supper upstairs, Louise? Perhaps you'd make us something special – you are so wonderful at it – and provide for midnight snackings, maybe." You suggested.

Louise smiled. "Yes, little miss," she said, forgetting herself. "I want to make roast duck for dinner tomorrow afternoon... how about I make salmon for you two tonight? Pasta. Salad. And I'll bring up a variety of things you can eat some of the leftover roast and cheeses – maybe some of the rosemary bread Margaret made this morning – I'll bring wine for you, little miss – and coffee."

"Brilliant! Thank you. Meet you upstairs, Sir." You ran off and up while we three watched after you.

I was smiling and shaking my head as Margaret and Louise turned back toward me. They laughed quietly. "She's a character," I said.

"Yes Sir, and we love her," said Louise. "She wants to be the mistress of the house – and she is, or she is becoming, I guess – but she's so cute." She giggled.

"She's like our little sister," said Margaret.

"And she loves you."

"Yes," I said. "And I'm hopeless."

Margaret smiled, "Yes, Sir. That's obvious."

"Are the supper arrangements all right with you, Sir?" asked Louise, chuckling.

"I'm sure whatever you do will be more than enough – only – no wine tonight. How about plenty of Pellegrino and limes."

"I'll go light the fires in your rooms, Sir. I'll help her out while Louise gets the food ready for your night."

"Thank you, Margaret. And thank you both for being so good to us."

The girls beamed. "We're happy here, Sir."

Louise repaired to the Kitchen. Margaret headed upstairs to help you. I purposely dawdled, tinkering on the piano and fiddling with some lyrics. I wanted to give you some time – and I wanted Louise and Margaret to be done by the time I came upstairs. I heard Louise going up and down the stairs and finally they both came down and Margaret said, "Everything's ready Sir."

"Thank you, Margaret."

"Sir, your supper and some of the snacks will stay hot – I put them on hot plates for you."

"That's wonderful. Thank you so much."

I began my way up the marble stairs.

"Sir"

"Yes, Margaret."

"Little Miss – we're so glad for you."

"Thank you, Margaret." I wondered what she meant, but I smiled and climbed to the long hallway, walked past the portraits. I stopped in front of my Grandmother's painting and chuckled at the glasses in her hand.

You weren't in my room. There was a veritable feast laid out on the tables. There were fresh flowers. The fire was lit, and candles all 'round. You and Margaret and Louise had been busy. The door was open to your room. I could hear water running into your tub.

I put on my heavy green robe. I selected one of the red roses from the vase on the bed table. I stood on the hearth, carefully breaking the thorns off the stem and tossing them into the fire. I thought to myself, "Nothing of this love's flower to cut my little girl's fingers."

I turned and stepped through the door into your room.

You sat on your window seat looking out into the night. You were in a white silk robe. Your curly hair was up, tied with a pink ribbon. You turned and smiled and rose.

I could see your erect nipples straining against the fabric. Your skin was the color of warm July afternoons. You had no make-up. But you had done your nails a new color – a young lady's pink.

You came to me and kissed my mouth tenderly, taking the rose and breathing in its fragrace... gently nuzzling it. You reverently put it on your bed table, you took my hand and led me into your bathroom.

We didn't speak. You undressed me. First taking my robe and hanging it on the back of the chair, then slowly unbuttoning the dark wool shirt. You unbuckled my trousers and slowly pulled the belt through the finders. I realized you were savoring everything you were doing.

So you unbuttoned my trousers and slid them down while I stepped out of them. And likewise my underwear. But you took a moment to gently caress my cock with your fingertips before you slid my shirt off my shoulders.

You took my hand and brought me to the bath so I could step in and you stood back as I settled myself into the steaming water. Deliberately, as I watched, you slowly disrobed, allowing me to enjoy the view, catching my eye and smiling at me.

You picked up one of the bottles of bath oil from the shelf and poured a bit into the water. Immediately, the room was alive with the scent of musky, forest ferns – fresh, but hintng of sex.

As you stepped into the water, I watched your muscles flex beneath your smooth skin. The graceful curves of your shoulders and neck melted into the inviting shape of your perfect, small breasts. Your back and hips were those of a very young woman, just beginning to flower and as you lifted your leg over the tub's rim, I could see the delicate curve of your shaven pussy lips.

You were watching me watch you and you smiled. You picked up a cloth and the soap and knelt down in the water before me and began to wash me – first my chest and shoulders, my neck – then my face. And as you rinsed me, you kissed my eyes, touching their lids with your tongue.

Then it was my turn – slowly bathing you – sometimes stroking your soapy skin with my hands then squeezing water out of the cloth so it ran down your neck and over your breasts.

You massaged my shoulders for a long while. You knew your breasts were at my face level. You knew I was feasting my eyes on them – so near and so beautiful.

The fragrance of the bath filled my nostrils.

You settled down with your back to me and rested against my chest, drawing my arms around your waist in front. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, little girl."

So we sat in silence for a half hour or so, drinking each other in while we rested. At last, you sighed. You took my hands and placed them on your breasts.

"Why, Sir! Whatever are you doing!" you said in mock horror. You squeezed my hands so they flexed and grabbed. "No! Stop! you are taking such liberties! 'I'm a good girl I am!'"

I nuzzled the back of your head. "You aren't nearly the angel you pretend to be, my Miss Doolittle." I said, trying to imitate Rex Harrison's inflections.

"No – No! We mustn't. Stop." As you pulled my hands down between your legs. "We mustn't. Stop. Oh no!" I began to play with you pussy lips. "We mustn't. Stop. We mustn't. Stop. No. We mustn't. We – we mustn't stop. No. We mustn't stop. We mustn't stop."

And we both laughed at the ridiculous classic joke.

Still giggling, you stood and stepped out. You consciously gave me a show of feline nonchalance as you, dripping carelessly on the tile, brought me one of the thick bath towels from the shelf. I stood and stepped out.

"Careful, Daddy, don't slip and break your hip. We'll have to get you a walker."

I laughed hard and long while you stood blinking and looking innocent, sucking your thumb.

You took the towl from me and dried my torso, and, as you toweled off my cock and balls, you said, in your sweetest little girl voice, "Let me get that for you, Daddy." And you kissed me, tonguing my mouth in a very non-little-girl manner. You sunk to your knees. "Here," you said, "Look, I think it's beginning to swell. Are you OK, Daddy? I'll kiss it and make it all better."

I was laughing, but not for very long. You treated me to your expert ministrations. You teased me and sucked me until I had a raging hard prick sliding deep down your lovely tight, hot throat.

I was close to coming when you stopped. You knew your mind – you wanted me urgent and hot. You stood, you kissed me. You took my hand and, still dripping from the fragrant bath, you lead me quickly through your room into mine to our bed.

I pushed the small of your back at just the right second and you lost your balance, sprawling against and overthe edge of the tall bed. I was instantly behind you, my cock was at your cunnie's wet, slippery doorway.

"Daddy – wait, Daddy." I pulled back. You turned and slithered on your back up onto the sheets, your legs spread, showing me what I was about to conquor again... inviting me. You were in the middle of the bed. You held up your arms, beconing. "Now, Daddy. Like this. Come to me, Daddy."

I crawled over you. My cock was at your opening. You arched and pulled me close.

Now you are looking into my eyes. I am about to enter you. I am being strong and sure, but gentle and tender.

It is a very special night and we both know it. You are fertile, and we have decided that for just this night, this one time, we will consciously leave the consequence of our union to the fates – or Gods. Whatever the outcome of this night of love, we will embrace it.

You are shivering, but not from cold. You are still heated from our bath. Your skin is still moist. You smile up at me. You brush my hair back. And I push.

You have that look of delighted surprise you nearly always have when I first enter you. I stretch you open now, your pussy lips fully parting, your tight little cunny yielding. You gasp. You are full.

You pull me to you. You grip my hair. Without any other encouragement, I feel your cunny flutter. You squeal. You are coming. "Daddy! Oh, Daddy!"

I slide out a little then back in.

"What do you think, Konekochan? Do you want to marry your Daddy when you grow up."

You speak breathlessly, "But Daddy, that would be not be customary. Little girls don't marry their Daddys."

I begin to fuck you slowly.

"Some little girls do, my pet. Some little girls do."

Your eyes are wide. You are gripping me tightly. I am sliding my cock in and out of your cunny with delicious strength – but slowly, deliberately. You are going to come again. You can't help it.

"Daddy," you squeal and you begin to shake as the next wave of orgasm begins to sweep you away. "Daddy!"

I feel you coming. "Do you want to marry your Daddy when you grow up?"

"Daddy – Can I really marry my Daddy? Can I, Daddy?"

I thrust hard. You cry out. You are coming so hard. But I know just what to do.

"You were a naughty little girl, Koneko, stopping your birth control."

"Oh – Oh God, Daddy."

Your sweet, tight body is milking me and I'm not going to be able to wait much longer.

"Do you want to marry your Daddy when you grow up – and have his baby?"

I begin to fuck you hard now. You gasp. "Daddy! Daddy! Yes, Daddy."

"Say it, little girl."

"I want to marry my Daddy and have his baby."

You are breathless. I know you are right on the edge. "Say it again."

"I want to marry my Daddy and have his baby. Please, Daddy. Please."

You are right there – you are about to surrender to me – you will come hard when you do.

"Say it again."

"Please, Daddy."

I know the moment is here.

I say firmly – right in your ear – you are beginning to come – I know this will take you to a new height...

"You will marry me. You will have my baby. Say Yes."

You scream in your ecstatic release, "Yes! Yes! Aaaaaarrrrgggghhh."

"You are mine. Say Yes."

And, as you completely surrender to me, you wail, "Dadddyyy. Dadddyyy. Yeeeessss."

You are nearly convulsing. Your cunny tightens. And then I thrust my cock deep into you and I begin to come. You feel it.

"You are mine, Dadddyyyy. Give me a baby nowwww."

And I cry out. "My baby girl! My baby!"

Pumping now. Deep into you. Deep into my little girl. "My baby girl."

You grip me with all your strength. Your arms and legs are wrapped around me. I feel your cunny flutter again and you moan softly, "Yes, Daddy. Yes. I want to marry you. I want your babies. Ooooohhhhh yeeessss." You are coming so deep and you voice is filled with such love.

I have arched my back so that my cock remains at its deepest extent. You relax your grip just a small bit. You kiss my face. You stroke my hair. We are sweating. We are so close it feels as if we are one thing.

"Daddy. Oh, my God. Daddy. Oh, my God," you purr. "My Daddy." You shudder. "My darling man. Yes, Daddy. You're right. Some little girls do get to marry their Daddy."

I say softly into your ear. "I'm going to hold you to it."

"Yes, yes, Daddy. Yes, Daddy, I promise." You nuzzle my neck and bite me gently.

We hold each other close. The fire is crackling. "I will fuck you all night long, Konekochan."

"Yes, Shujin."



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 31



Our Miss Brooks

You came home early. You didn't feel like going to any more classes. You couldn't face school. The world had been drained of color.

You hung your scarf in the front hall. You left your sweater on the bench. You willed your leaden feet up the stairs and down the long hall to your bedroom door.

You took off your clothes in your room and put on your flannel nightgown. You walked into your bathroom to pee. You slid your panties off and threw them in the sink. You pulled the sink's stopper lever. You turned on the cold water and, as it filled the basin, soaking your panties, you watched it slowly turning pink. You turned off the water. You stood in silence looking down.

You had gotten your period.

You peed. You climbed into your bed. You lay under the covers. Lost.

You didn't cry.

You didn't cry.

You didn't cry.

The early afternoon light shifted as the hours passed.

There was a tap at the door. "Little Miss." Margaret's voice.

"Little Miss..." from the door opened just a crack.

"Yes, Margaret." Your own voice sounded harsh and grating to yourself.

"Little Miss, there's a package for you."

"Thank you, Margaret, I'll look at it later."

"I -- I'll leave it here for you."

"Very well. Thank you, Margaret."

You could hear her placing something heavy-ish by the hearth.

You heard the door gently close.

You could barely move. You ached. You sighed.

How would you bear telling me? How could you look me in the eye?

You didn't cry.

You heard something. It was a scratching. It was coming from the direction of the hearth.

You forced yourself to sit up. You looked over at the box on the hearth.

It was open. It was a heavy cardboard box. It had been covered in flowered wrapping paper, but it had no top and there was pale green fabric inside.

There came a thumping and scratching from inside the box. You were so alarmed and intrigued, you momentarily forgot about your grief.

And then there was a whimper from the box.

"What the..."

You suddenly felt like a child on Christmas morning. The ache in your heart was giving way to excitement. You got out of bed and slowly approached the thumping, scratching, whimpering box and peered over its edge into the open top.

Two dark eyes stared back up at you. The eyes were set in a dark, fuzzy face. A black nose. Pointy ears. The creature sat down and lifted a paw. It was a Scottish Terrier puppy and you were instantly in love.

You picked it up gently and it licked your face. It was trembling. You knelt there cradling it in your arms.

It was time to cry.

Silently.

And you held its paws, feeling the little pads. It licked the salty tears from your face.

You cried and cried and cried and cried. Until you felt cleansed and tired and the weight had lifted from your shoulders.

The little creature had lain almost still in your cradling arms. But now it squirmed and struggled and you giggled as you put it down.

It promptly squatted on the hearth and made a puddle on the marble.

You laughed and picked it up, holding it at a distance and running into your bathroom. Where to put it... where to put it... in the tub... and you turned back to the sink.

You stared at the pale pink water. You sighed and slowly shook your head. You thought to yourself, "It will just have to wait a while. It's probably better this way. Still -- It's hard to let go of. And Shujin will be so disappointed." You slowly rinsed out the underwear. You hung them on a towel rail. You drained the sink. You grabbed a roll of paper towel and ran to sop up the puddle -- which wasn't really very big at all.

You came back into your bathroom and rinsed and dried off the little shivering animal. You held it close, nuzzling its head with your nose. It licked your face and barked a tiny bark.

"Oh my, you are probably hungry," you said, and carried it to your bed. It immediately started sniffing around while you put on your robe.

You picked the puppy up and held it in the crook of your arm while you looked back in its box. There was a card. It read: "My Little Girl -- Our Miss Brooks followed me home. Can we keep her? Love, Daddy"

You caressed the card gently and whispered as the little dog licked your chin, "Yes, Daddy. Thank you."

You went down the back stairs to the kitchen. You wanted to thank Margaret. As you ran into the kitchen she looked up from the table and Louise turned from her cooking. They beamed at you, responding to your joy, and, of course, soon the three of you were fussing and giggling and awing over the little dog. Miss Brooks was drinking in the attention, nibbling on your fingers.

"Look, she's hungry..." said Louise, and she ran to the pantry for a bowl. Soon the little dog was lapping up some of the goat's milk Margaret kept on hand for her digestion.

"What do we do with her? I mean -- what do we feed her and do we take her for walks or what?" You asked.

"We should put newspaper down for her to pee on, I think," said Margaret.

"You should look up what to do, Little Miss," said Louise. "Google it."

"Great idea."

"Wait a sec. This package came from Amazon for you this morning."

You opened the package. Dog books. "Oh, Daddy!" You said.

The girls giggled. "He is pretty good, isn't he?" said Margaret.

"Oh -- you have no idea," you said. And you all laughed.

"It's nearly dinner time, leave Miss Brooks with us. You should find him."

"Yes, of course." You found me at my piano. I smiled up at you and you sat on my lap.

Your pale rose flannel nighty had lace around its v-neckline and sleeves and had pink ribbon criss-crossed over the bodice. It looked vaguely like a Renaissance dress and you were fetching in it. Your pink heavy cotton bathrobe was the one I gave you for Christmas.

You kissed me. "Thank you for Miss Brooks. It was so sweet of you, Daddy."

"Then you approve?"

"Yes, Sir." And you hugged me.

I chuckled, "Good -- I'm glad."

"Daddy..." you said, sitting back up.

"Yes, Little Girl."

Your eyes teared up. "I... I got my period."

You saw the shift in my expression. "Oh, I see."

You threw your arms around my neck and buried your face in my neck and wept. "I'm sorry, Shujin. I'm sorry. You still love me, right, Shujin?"

I sputtered, "Oh, good grief, yes. I'm just sad about it." I sniffed. "I have mixed emotions, little girl. I feel like it would really be too soon to have a child. You need to finish school. I want you to be more independent first. But it was such a beautiful and romantic idea -- and I think that someday, it will be wonderful for us to do. Even knowing all this, I'm sad. I want to have a child together."

You hugged me tighter. I held you close for a long time as you wept. "I love you Daddy."

"I love you too, Little Girl."

"Someday."

"Yes, my love. Someday."

"You're right. I'm not ready. I know that. I just wanted something..."

"I know -- of your own."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry too, Little Girl. But in a few years. It will be a better time."

You sniffed. I dried your eyes with my handkerchief. You used it to blow your nose. "Yes. I know you're right."

You took my right hand and held it up, pressing your left hand fingertips against the tips of my fingers. You were thoughtful and quiet and we sat together, fingers touching, you on my lap -- until you sighed. "Thank you, Shujin."

"I love you, Konekochan. I will do my best to care for you."

"I know." You hugged me again, holding me close. "I know you will. I know you do." You sat up again, "But there's only so much you can do."

"Yes, darling..."

"The truth is, Daddy, there's only so much of myself I show you. How can you help me with what you don't even know about? Like, part of the reason I kept my -- my fertility a secret, I think, is maybe because that way I felt like I had control of it. It's not that I didn't trust you. It's that I didn't trust the world." You fiddled with my hair. "When you've lost everything you love, it's hard to trust the world again."

"Yes, Little Girl."

"And you don't tell me everything. I know that. And I know I could help you too." You kissed my forehead and hugged me again. "Someday, Daddy. Someday."

The next days passed easily. You were preoccupied with your studies, your friends, and with Miss Brooks. The winter nights were warm in our bed, holding each other close. To your consternation, I insisted Miss Brooks sleep in a little pen I'd gotten her by the big warm old stove in the kitchen until she had learned to pee outside. She complained mournfully, but she soon got the hang of it and one night you snuck her into your own bed to cuddle with you until you put her back in the kitchen and crawled into bed with me.

"Miss Brooks OK?" I asked sleepily

"You knew!"

I chuckled, "Of course I knew, Little Girl. I'm omniscient."

You giggled. "Oh, Daddy. And what else do you know?"

My voice was warm in the dark, "A great deal, my Pet."

You shivered. "What do you know about... about me, Daddy? More than you let on, I'll bet."

I kissed your mouth tenderly. You melted into my arms, against my body. Safe. Warm. You were trembling. You said in a very small voice, "Daddy -- you -- what do you know -- about me?"

You grabbed my hand and pulled it down your belly between your legs. You spread them an squirmed against my fingers. "Daddy -- you know all about me?"

Your pussy gushed. I moved swiftly.

And now, like a fire being lit, you are suddenly hot.

I am on top of you. I am slightly rough. My cock pushes into you.

You gasp as you pussy lips yield and grip me, your cunny is full. I begin to fuck you hard. You feel overwhelmed by the suddenness -- and, like a wrestler, I have pinned you beneath my weight. You feel your helplessness and you nearly swoon while, like a tidal wave, all of a sudden you are caught in a deep current.

"Daddy!" You are nearly there already.

"Come for me -- now," I command.

And so you do. You know that my command has pushed you over the edge. You are even more acutely aware of your vulnerability. And like gasoline on an already blazing fire, that knowledge, the sense of my complete control, compels you to an incredible intensity.

You feel it in every fiber of your body and you are overwhelmed again with the strength of your emotion. You scream, "God! I love you! My Sir! My Sir!"

My cock swells. I begin to pump my come into you. "My Little Girl!"

"Daddyyyy -- oh, Daddyyyy." You bite my shoulder in your excitement and it makes me come harder.

"My Little Baby Girl... Sweet, sweet little pet." I grip you with surprising strength. You return the embrace.

We are holding each other close, our bodies joined. You squirm beneath me. It has been wonderfully fast and hot. You whisper in my ear, "Just hold me, Daddy."

The weight of my body, the heat of my flesh, the smell of our sex -- you are content. "Thank you, Sir. I needed you like that tonight."

"Yes, my little one. I needed it too."

You wrap your legs around me and hold me tightly. You nuzzle my neck. Tomorrow is another day. You are thinking how you will study for your physics test, you will read poetry to me after class, you will play with Miss Brooks.

As you drift off to sleep, you smell the scent of rose perfume... so familiar, but just out of reach. You smile in your sleep. You unwrap your right arm from around my shoulders. You are sucking your thumb.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 32



Playtime

All day you'd been thinking about sex. You tried to concentrate, but you couldn't keep your mind on your Physics lecture. You lost your way in the completely familiar hallways and was late to Women's Lit. You were caught gazing out the window in Calculus. "Are you with us today?" your professor had teased you. You scowled and buried your face in your notebook as you classmates tittered. 

What was worse — your nearly constant state of arousal kept your panties wet and you pussy lips sticky. You went to the ladies room to pee and you wanted some quick relief, but you didn't have time. And it must have been pheromones or something but guys turned their heads as you walked by. Strangers tried to flirt. It was flattering, actually, but you weren't in the mood.

When your last class was done, you ran out the door into the blustery cold. Your friends hailed you — "Hey! we're going to the pub..." "Can't! Late!" You waved as you trotted down the hill.

You strode through the gate, around the front drive, up the front porch stairs. You stepped over the threshold, the chimes on the tall old door jangling. You threw your backpack on the bench, tore off your sheepskin jacket. Miss Brooks came scampering and skidding across the polished floor and you scooped her up, cuddling her as she licked your face. You could hear me tuning the piano in the living room. 

"I need Daddy," you said to the the puppy. "I need him bad." You giggled.

You kicked off your boots and hurried down the short hallway and around the corner through the chestnut woodwork archway. I was peering into the front of the piano, my right hand on the tuning wrench. The afternoon light sifted through the glass of the tall windows on either side of the fireplace. The chandelier was glowing high above. There were your books opened on the sofa where you'd left them. The piano top was wide open. My laptop was perched on the edge. 

You stood for a few seconds, drinking it in. You watched me make an imperceptible adjustment, gently bumping the wrench with the butt of my palm. I looked up from my work and smiled.

"Sir! Oh, Sir." You crossed the large oriental rug and came to me around the front of the piano. You cradled Miss Brooks in your left arm as you stood on your toes to kiss me.

My right hand slid up your back and into your curly hair. I gripped it. It was a gentle but firm gesture. You knew that it was instinctive on my part — an expression of affection and passion. But to you, given your propensities, it also translated into an expression of my dominance. That I hadn't really intended it in that way made it all the more profound somehow. You felt safe and secure. You melted into your role as my submissive. Our lips met. You were instantly on fire.

I felt you shudder. After a lingering kiss, I said softly, "I love you, Little Girl."

"I love you too, Sir"

"I'll be done in a little while."

"I'll wait right here," and you sat down with Miss Brooks on the sofa.

From your shudder, I knew you were excited and I knew our love-making had begun. I already had a special evening in mind. I smiled. I knew you well — how to please you. "Good girl," I said, and turned back to my task.

We sat in silence for a while. The only sound was my playing the piano notes one at a tine, moving the stops from set of string to set of strings. Mostly, they didn't need adjustment at all, but every so often, I'd glance at the laptop screen and fit the wrench to a string's pin and make a change.

You'd seen me at this task before. I'd explained that by making just the right adjustments to accommodate the strings' inharmonicity, the instrument could be made to "sparkle." Although the changes in pitch were usually imperceptible to you, you could hear the "beats" of the strings' frequency phases and you had come to hear what I meant by "sparkle." It was an undeniable property of the freshly tuned instrument.

As I worked, you played with Miss Brooks, but you were aroused. I knew it. And what was particularly delicious for you was that you knew I knew it. You knew I was making love to you. It was subtle and gentle, but I was asserting my dominance by making you wait. You unconsciously shifted. I could see from the corner of my eye.

"You will take your panties off and put them on the table here," I said without looking up from my work.

"Yes, Sir," you said, putting Miss Brooks beside you on the couch. You slowly lifted your pleated black watch tartan skirt and slid your panties down your legs, over your forest green thick wool socks. You slyly and seductively revealed your pussy as you did so. Had I noticed? I gave no sign.

You stood. You walked the few steps to the table and placed your panties by the celadon vase. You turned and walked back to sit down. I continued working.

"Good Girl," I said casually. "Now, my pet, you will slowly remove your blouse."

"Yes, Sir."

You slowly unbuttoned your cotton blouse. You slid it off your arms.

"Fold it carefully and place it on the table."

"Yes, Sir." I still hadn't looked up. You stood again and walked to the table. You folded the blouse with particular care.

"Now the camisole. Face me."

Yes, Sir." You stood by the table facing me and lifted the white silk camisole over your head. I turned and watched you. You weren't wearing a brazier and so your perfect breasts were revealed. Small. Perfectly curved. You folded the camisole and put it on the pile of clothing. You smiled at me and I smiled back.

My smile was that of a teacher pleased with a child's lesson. You wanted more. You wanted me to want you.

"Very good girl, I said warmly. "Now the socks"

So one by one you took off your socks while I watched. You lifted your legs so I would catch a glimpse of your pussy. I continued to smile approvingly, but dispassionately.

"Good girl. Now the skirt."

To your mild chagrin, I turned back to the piano, closing down my laptop and putting away my tools. You were hoping that Margaret and Louise wouldn't come into the room as you slid your skirt down. But you wanted me to look. And your frustration was fueling you abject horniness.

You had glanced down as you took off your skirt, so as you stood back up, I surprised you as I took you firmly around the waist with my right arm and suddenly, roughly pulled you to me, kissing you hard on the mouth. You gasped. I took your hair in my left hand. I pulled your head back and bit your neck just under your right ear. I felt you shudder. "Oh, Shujin. I love you."

"I love you too, Little Girl. You are so beautiful."

I held your head back by your hair. I slipped my arm from around your waist and slowly pushed my hand down between your legs. "Spread." I commanded.

You complied. You were rewarded by my fingers opening your pussy lips and stroking your clitoris. You were desperate to come but I was expertly keeping you just on the edge. After a minute you squealed in frustration. I withdrew my hand.

"No!" you said involuntarily.

"Silence!" I said sharply and loudly.

Miss Brookes, startled by my tone, skittled off to the kitchen.

"Oh my God! Shujin! I'm so sorry."

I let go my grasp of your hair. I took you roughly by the wrist. I led you quickly through the house. To the basement door. I opened it. Quickly down the dark steps.

You were thrilled. You were frightened. You knew you were safe with me, but my reaction and the speed of my movement — it was different — you were surprised and — yes — a little frightened.

I was leading you to your "playroom." The basement air was cool and it teased your skin, making your nipples erect. The smells and the feeling of the basement were fraught with erotic meaning. You couldn't help but be excited by it and so, your whole day of sexual need, your frustration at my erotic teasing, your slight fear, and our approach to your playroom — they all added up to a state of heady arousal. Your pussy gushed. It was actually dripping.

I threw the heavy door of your playroom open. Inside, it was lit by the warm glow of dozens of candles. And there in the middle of the room was something new.

It was a heavy wooden structure with red velvet padding. It was like a bench or strange high backed reclining chair with supports for each leg — or maybe like a table. The supports had heavy leather straps with large buckles. The short seat was rather high off the ground. It had no arms, but there was a padded appendage on each side also with heavy leather straps that extended up and away from the structure. I quickly led you to it.

Your red leather wrist and ankle restraint bracelets were there — and your red collar. I pointed, "Put them on."

Your hands were trembling as you put on your ankle bracelets, buckling them snugly. You put on your wrist bracelets too, but you picked up your collar and held it out to me. You gave me your warmest little girl look. I couldn't help but smile — not that I was really angry anyway. I slowly and tenderly put the collar around your neck — not too tight at all, just enough so you could feel it. "Thank you, Sir."

"Good girl. Now get up," I said firmly as I helped you onto the step in front of the bench and then turned you around, facing me. You clamored back onto its seat. You felt small and naked perched on the massive wooden contraption.

The seat was very short — a few inches — barely enough to sit on. The padding was firm, but not uncomfortable. The velvet was luxuriously soft.

"Good Girl," I said, and smiled. You felt relieved and you smiled. But you were nervous I could tell.

"Thank you, Daddy," you said in the naughtiest and most manipulative little girl tone you could muster.

"Legs up here," I stated matter-of-factly, and pointed to the supports. You lifted each leg — resting them where they clearly were intended to go. "Now lie back, Little Girl." You reclined onto the slanted back of the structure. You found that it was angled so as you rested your head back, it was perfectly supported on a firm velvet pillow and you could see down over your torso — you could watch everything I was doing. It was exciting and extremely erotic to watch me working. You were actually quite comfortable.

There was a heavy strap, a few inches wide, that went around your waist and buckled slightly to the side. It was crafted of thick belt leather — a natural, unstained color. There was a strap for each calf — just below your knee; as I fitted these around your legs, I didn't tighten them all the way — and your red ankle bracelets clipped into a ring — one for each ankle — one by one. 

Then I came along side you and lifted your left arm above your head and out along the support, strapping your upper arm and clipping in your wrist bracelet — and I kissed you tenderly. You slipped your tongue just inside my mouth. It was lovely. But I broke off the kiss and waked around to your other side. Your right arm received the same treatment. And you got another, longer kiss.

"Good girl." I said softly as I nuzzled you. "I love you, darling."

"I love you too, Shujin."

The air of your playroom was customarily warm. You were comfortable, but you were trembling in anticipation. As you rested your head back, the pillow held it so you could watch as I came back to your legs. Unlatching an unseen hitch on your left side, I rotated your left leg's support out to the side and with another click, I had removed the part that had supported your thigh. You gasped.

The purpose became immediately apparent — and, as I adjusted the right side too, your legs were spread wide apart and the underside of your legs were completely exposed. But I wasn't done — I also adjusted the leg supports so that they bent your knees some. This allowed me to adjust their spread even wider. Satisfied, I tightened the straps below your knees. Then, unlatching it, I took away the seat.

You were comfortably suspended. Your pussy was exposed and spread wide open. You ass was exposed and you could tell it was below the level of the back support you were lying on. You were completely available. And your arms were spread and very slightly stretched out and over your head. You were particularly vulnerable.

You moaned softly and you squirmed in your excitement. It was involuntary. I smiled. "Good girl," I said warmly. Your pussy was dripping and shiny, the wetness running down to your ass.

You glanced up at the ceiling and saw your reflection in a large mirror suspended above you. Was the mirror new, or had it always been there and you hadn't noticed before? No — it must be new. The sight was lewd and mildly shocking, but it delighted you to see yourself strapped down and spread open.

You were undeniably beautiful. Your lovely skin glowed in the soft candle light. The gentle curves of your waist and hips were somehow exaggerated by the position the table held you in. Your breasts were round — small and stunning — your nipples were erect.

In the mirror, you watched me walking around to your left side. You watched me take your left nipple between my fingers, stretching it up as I fitted a tight nipple clamp onto it. I tightened it just right. You inhaled sharply. It hurt perfectly. An as I took my hand away, a small bell on the clamp jingled.

Then it was time for your right breast. I caressed you with my hand, and pinched your nipple as I fitted you again, tightening the clamp. Another little jingle.

You were breathing a little more deeply and rapidly. The movement of your chest was a gentle undulation in the reflection above you. Your nipple clamps were very naughty and if you took anything more than a shallow breath, the bells tinkled. It was somehow extraordinarily erotic to have this sonic evidence of your breathing in the silence of your playroom.

You watched me in the mirror — a view as if you were above the room looking down — as I wheeled a small steel table from the shadows to below you — between your legs. There were things on the table... a few little glass jars, some clamps, sex toys. I lifted two of the little jars and came to your side.

I dipped the tip of my finger into one of the jars and brought it to just under your nose. It was fragrant — a light, fragrant floral scent. I applied a little of the light oil just there and gently around your nostrils. I smiled.

As you breathed in, it immediately cleared your head. You felt light and refreshed. Your little nipple bells jingled as you breathed deeply. And you smiled. You were alert and then also, somehow you felt extra naughty. A rush of liquid sex energy leapt up your spine.

I saw you flex and I smiled. "Good girl."

"Oh, Daddy — oh, I love you so." Your voice was lively but sultry. The sound of a young woman in love and in heat.

"I love you too, darling."

You watched me dip my finger in the other little jar. I gently applied some of this oil to the center of your forehead — to your third eye. You remained clear headed, but you seemed to sink deeper into a kind of reverie. Perhaps it was the cumulative effect of everything that had happened that day — perhaps the endorphins were mildly intoxicating you. But you felt clear headed, and deeply happy, and tipsy, and extremely aroused.

You watched as I applied a little more of the oil on your heart, your navel, over your groin, and, walking around to between your legs, I applied some of the oil to your pussy lips. They were parted because of the way you were held with your legs wide apart. I dipped my finger back into the oil and gently stroked some of the oil onto your wet clitoris and your inner lips.

You nearly came. You moaned and squirmed. God you wanted to be fucked.

Looking down between your legs, you watched me undress slowly. The candle light flickered. I unbuttoned my shirt. I folded it and set it on the chaise lounge. I unfastened my trousers and slid them off, also folding them. You watched as I slowly removed my briefs.

My erect cock stood out. I looked beautiful to you. Hard. Veins full. Completely engorged. Throbbing. You suddenly wanted it in your mouth. You thought of its flavor. You felt your pussy gush again.

I slowly put on a black Japanese-style robe, tying its belt around my waist and turning toward you again. You watched me cross the room and pick up something from the steel table.

I brought it around so you could see it. It was a whip with a beautifully braided leather handle and a handful of long horsehair. I let the horsehair barely touch your stomach. It tickled, but you knew what it could do. You had been flicked by accident by horses tails when you were cleaning stall as a younger girl. You knew how it could sting.

You breathed in sharply and your nipple bells jingled. "Oh, naughty, naughty Daddy."

I let the tips of the horse hair tickle your left breast. "Do you like your new toy, Koneko?"

'You were trembling. This was something new. It felt a little frightening and exciting. You squirmed slightly as I tickled your right breast.

"Daddy — Oh, Daddy. Yes — I think I do."

I walked back down to between your legs. I tickled the inside of your legs with the whip. Your pussy was dripping wet and I gently began to pat your legs with the horsehair.

Then on your left leg — pat, pat, pat... then just a little swoosh.

"Ooooo! Daddy! It's a little sting-y!"

"Yes, darling, do you like it?" I gently caressed the inside of you thigh where I had switched you.

"Oh yes." I slid my hand down to your pussy lips and fondled your clitoris. It was erect and protruding from it sheath. You moaned softly.

I withdrew my hand and patted the inside of your other leg with the horsehair. Your skin was so sensitive and you were anticipating the little switch. Pat, pat, pat... swish.

"Oooooo! Oh! Naughty Daddy. So nice!"

I caressed your leg again and fondled you, lifting you in your excitement. Then standing again — pat, pat... swish, swish.

You squealed. "Oh God — it stings!" My fingers were stroking you clitoris. I bent down and kissed your pussy lips, sucking your clitoris into my mouth and working it with my tongue. I caressed your legs where I had switched them. "Oh — oh, Daddy..."

You were watching in the mirror overhead as I stood again and — pat, pat, pat, "So you like your new toy, my pet?"

"Oh. yes, Sir."

"I think you're ready for more."

"Yes, Sir."

Pat, pat, pat — swish, swish, swoosh, swish. The last two switches landed just where your pussy lips joined your leg. The effect was electrifying. It stung perfectly deliciously. You squealed and squirmed and I caressed your skin with my hand. I played with your pussy again, stroking your clitoris. "Do you like your new toy, my pet?"

"Oh — oh, yes, Sir."

"Good girl." And I kissed your pussy again, sucking you, and sliding my finger into your cunny. I knew it wouldn't be long now. I new you were just about ready to come hard and long — like I wanted you to.

I stood up again. You watched the whip rise and fall, stinging the inside of your legs — but more slowly. Swish. Swoosh. Sting. Swish. I was working my way up your legs — first the left, then the right. Closer. Closer.

And then, more gently. Swish. The whip just barely kissed you pussy lip. What a naughty, little nip. Swoosh. Your other lip. Gentle, but stinging.

"Oh — Oh, God."

I stopped and gently caressed your legs and pussy lips with my hand. "Good girl."

Your skin felt warm and tingly. You were having a reaction that seemed odd to you. It was almost like an itch. I was very gently touching you with my fingers. Your pussy nearly ached, you wanted so desperately to be brought to your climax.

"Daddy — please. Could I have some more?"

"Are you sure, Little Girl?"

"Oh yes, Sir — and please — please be extra naughty."

You watched me raise the whip. Gently on your sore legs. Swish. Swish.

You squirmed. "Oh, yes — please — extra naughty, Daddy."




Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 32



And so I whipped higher — closer. Swish. Swoosh. Swish. Swoosh. Gentle, but stinging. Your legs were itching and pulsing.

Now you see my hand rise. You see the lovely whip fall softly, but with a very naughty sting. I have lovingly brought the horsehairs to bear directly on your opened pussy. The whip nips at your very tender flesh — it is perfect.

You gasp. Your nipple clamps jingle. It is like a flood of red heat. All the sexual tension of the day in burning now — burning in your pussy.

"God — God — Daddy! Yes."

My hand rises. Swish. The whip nips your leg just where you pussy lip joins. Swish. The other one. You want it so bad. You are squirming in your restraints. "Daddy, please..."

Swish. The hairs bite you open pussy again, stinging your engorged clitoris. Nipping your inner lips. "Oh! Oh, yesss."

You know you will come if only I whip your pussy a little more and a little more quickly so you don't cool down between strokes. You moan. It seems like an insane thought — that if only I whip you a little harder and quicker you will actually come.

You watch in the mirror. You are spread open wide. Your arms extended.

Swish. Swoosh. your legs again. And now I settle into a slow, deliberate rythm. I am whipping you. You are watching. The strokes are gentle, but they sting.

Swoosh — — Swish— — Swoosh — — Swish. I am working up the insides of your legs. Swoosh — — Swish. Closer again now. Burning. Itching. Hot.

You want it so bad. And then... Swish. Directly on you pussy. You see the whip rise. Swish. On your pussy again, but at a slight angle; the gentle but naughty blow tickling, stinging new places. Swish. Again. You squirm. Your bells jingle.

Swish. "Oh! Daddy!" Swish. It is getting so hot. "Daddy!"

Then... Swish. Swish. Swish.

The sting is incredible. You flex your legs open in your restraints.

Swish. Swish. You want to receive it now. You know that every stinging caress is evidence of my love.

Swish. Swish. "Oh God!" You shout. "Daddy! Now. Now. More."

And so I give you more. I know you're ready now.

"Come for me, Little Girl."

Swish. Swish. Swish.

You open your mouth to yell.

Swish. Swish.

It explodes like a lightning bolt up your legs, up your spine. You feel as if the places I anointed you with the fragrant oil have lit up with cool flame and that you pussy is as hot as red coals.

Swish. Swish.

You gasp. The bells jingle. You know you will never hear those bells jingle again without associating them with this moment.

Swish. Swish.

And now...

Swish. Swish.

You finally...

"Come for me." I command.

Swish. Swish.

It explodes. You are screaming. You are coming. So deep — so very hard.

Swish. Swish.

Screaming and shaking.

"Daddy!!! Daaaaddddyyyy! Oh Goddd! Oh, Daaaaddddyyy!"

You writhe. Swish. Swish.

Your legs are pulsing. Your pussy lips are hot. You can feel your wetness running down to your ass.

You can see me between your legs. You can see me in the mirror as I gently caress your legs. It stings perfectly. You gasp and your little bells tinkle. I very tenderly play with your pussy. It is wonderful. So sore and hot and sexy.

Your clitoris is erect and distended and inflamed. I take it between my thumb and forefinger and roll it and pinch. It is like an electric shock. The stingy pain and the sexy, naughty feel - you are going to come again.

You squeal and writhe as it washes over you. I smile. "Good girl."

You are experiencing that odd itch again. Your inflamed flesh itches deliciously.

"Sir — please — may I please have some more?"

"Of course, my little love. And then we'll go upstairs."

Without warning — swish. Not too hard, just enough to sting and warm. Swish, swish. It feels so good, like scratching that itch - but it stings. "Oh! Oh, yesssss."

Swish, swish. And now, again, on your pussy lips. Swish, swish. Stinging your inner lips, spread wide and vulnerable. Nipping on your clitoris. Another nip. Another.

"Oh Godddd! Oh, Dadddyyyy!" You scream my name. Swish, swish, swish.

Your skin is hot and throbbing. You feel me gently touching you - caressing you. A perfect naughty heat.

You shake — you scream. You are coming again.

"Good girl. Very good, Little Girl."

I walk around you. You feel me unhitching your wrists and unstrapping your arms. You slowly stretch them. I put the bench's little seat back in place and I am unbinding your legs — now, unbuckling the thick strap around your waist. You are tingly and shaky.

You feel my arms around you. I am helping you off the bench, lifting you. You are holding me so close. You are kissing my face. "Daddy — Daddy."

Your legs and pussy are throbbing — so very naughty and nasty. Your pussy is drenched and dripping.

"Now, baby girl. Let's go upstairs."

"Yes, Daddy. — Daddy — would you please bring my new toy — in case I want more?"

Your arms are around my neck, your nipple clamps jingling. I carry you through the darkness of the basement to the stairs and gently place you on your feet.

You are naked and trembling. The insides of your legs and you pussy are buzzing and, as you begin to climb the stairs, they sting — your legs moving, your tender sting-y itchy skin rubbing slightly as you slowly make your way up the stairs.

I am behind you admiring your naked form in front of me and a few steps above me. You reach back and take my hand. Up the basement stairs, through the halls, up the front stairway down the hall — into my room — our room.

There is a fire blazing. There is food on the table — and wine. You think "I could use a bit of that."

As you step inside, I catch your left wrist and, with a quick motion, pull it around behind you and clip — I've bound your wrists together thanks to your red leather bracelets. But before you can react, I've pushed you gently, just right, just off balance so you flop face-forward over the high edge of my bed — our bed.

Then swish! You squeal in surprise. Swish, swish. On your back and your rump and the backsides of your legs. You struggle involuntarily, but I am quick. Swish, swoosh, swish, swish. It is stinging you. It feels wonderful.

Swish, swish. It's so naughty... and you stop squirming so much. You try to spread your legs. You want to feel the horsehair on your pussy again. Swish, swish. And then some upward strokes — up from behind and underneath — nipping your pussy again. Swish, swish. You writhe and squeal.

Swish, swish. You try to spread wider. But then you feel my hands on your waist, holding you. You feel my cock, hard and hot, pressing between your butt cheeks. A firm push. You have barely enough time to get your bearings and relax. I thrust as I feel your flesh yield. You are impaled.

My cock is deep in your ass and it feels incredible. It is slippery from your own wetness. I am working you luxuriously. With each push and pull, it moves your flesh, your sore cunny, your very sore behind — it stings and aches. It is unbelievably erotic.

Your hands are bound behind you. I reach between your legs and lift you higher onto the edge of the bed. Now I can really fuck you. I press you into the soft covers. The weight of my body behind you is holding you face-down as I screw into you. Harder, faster. You squeal, you begin to scream — and you come.

Deep, deep and long and hard. "Good girl," my voice is warm next to your ear as you shudder and your ass tightens around my shaft. You call my name. You scream again. The orgasm seems to go on and on. My cock is thrust hard and deep into you — holding you there. "Daddddy! Oh my God! Oh Daaadddddyyyy!"

"My beautiful, special little girl. My wonderful pet."

You are sweating and I begin again. Slowly now. Making you feel every movement. Slowly out then in. Strong, deep. You gasp. You shudder. You burst into tears — weeping in your ecstasy.

I fuck you long and slow and deep. I know you are hurting just the way you like it — and I know that you feel taken and made to submit. You are barely moving now as I make love to you. You are moaning and saying "Yessssss. Oh, God, yessss. Oh God, I love you."

I slowly withdraw. I take my time going to the bathroom and washing off. When I return, you haven't moved.

"Good girl." I say softly.

Now I am particularly tender. I take a vial of lotion from the bed table — special lotion made with the essence of marigolds. I begin to work it into your hot flesh. It feels cool and lovely. You sniff and sigh.

Your back and hips and legs receive the balm. Then I unclip your wrists. I roll you over onto your back. Your little nipple-bells tinkle. Your eyes meet mine. They are calm and deep — you smile. I begin to apply the lotion to your legs as you watch. I am smiling at you. I apply lots of lotion to your skin and to your pussy lips and to your cunny.

You gasp at the sting, but you smile dreamily. "I love you, Sir."

"I love you too, Konekochan — so very much."

So I take your hand and pull you gently — up then off the bed. I sit in the high-backed chair and pull you to me — to sit across my legs. I pour you a glass of your favorite Pinot Noir and you take it from my hand and drink it right down. You close your eyes and lean your head back. My arm is around your waist, holding you firmly.

You right your head and take the bottle and, putting it to your lips, you drink — long delicious swigs.

I chuckle and stop you. "Hold on there. Little Girl. Easy, easy."

You shake your head, tossing your curls all around. You lean over and kiss me. You explore my mouth with your tongue. Your skin is shining with sweat and the lotion. Your mouth tastes like the deep, red wine you've drunk. You take my hands and pull me back to the bed. You lay me down and straddle me. You take me in.

Deep and hot. Slow and voluptuous. Like a lovely slow dance. You begin to ride me. You are shaking. And you lean down on top of me, pulling me over you, spreading your legs.

"Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck your little girl."

I can't resist. It won't be long.

"Come on, Daddy." Your nipple bells are tinkling. I know your pussy is stinging with every stroke.

I lift up so I can see your face. You smile, "Good boy. Now come for your Koneko. Come for me, Daddy."

It is a wave that rushes up from the soles of my feet. I gasp.

You are looking deep into my eyes. "Good boy. Give it to me."

I cry out. You smile broadly, then with a look of surprise, you shudder and squeal. "Oh! Oh! Oh Daddddyyyyy!"

I feel your cunny gripping me as we come together. It is a perfect moment. You feel my hot, wet seed spilling into you. Your heart explodes with emotion. You burst into tears again.

"Oh, Sir, my very own Sir. Thank you for today. Thank you so very much. I'm so in love, Sir. I can't contain it. I didn't know it could be like this. I had no idea. No idea. No idea."

There is something about your vulnerability that catches me off guard. I shudder — I begin to cry. You look up at me with a look of awe. You put your right hand on my left cheek as my tears fall onto your face and hair. "Sir! My Sir! Have I hurt you?"

I begin to laugh through my tears, "Good heavens, no, Koneko." I'm just so happy right now." You smile. You tear up all over again. You pull me down, close to you, holding me hard.

"Thank you, Sir." You are smothering my face with kisses.

I laugh and pull you over on top of me, still joined, my cock still hard. You squirm on me. "Oooooo, Sir! You're so — BIG. Make your little girl come again. Then I'll feed you supper."

You are sore and hot still.

"Come on, Daddy." You gasp. "Oh God!" You are going to come soon. 



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 33



For My Use

Dark and warm. Velvet against your face. A blindfold tied snugly.

The smell of sex. The taste of my come permeated your mouth.

Your arms were tied behind you, bent over your bolster, you butt high, your legs spread and tied open. Naked except for your garter belt and stockings.

Your pussy was wet. Your pretty ass was full and stretched by the large plug I had inserted while I played with you. It stretched you more than you had ever been. You had screamed as you came.

And the egg vibrator in your cunt whirred from time to time.

It was a delicious tease. The plug in your ass pressed it forward against your g-spot. When it vibrated, it sent shivers down your spine. But it only vibrated long enough to keep you excruciatingly aroused.

You squirmed to try to get more of it.

Much earlier, you had enjoyed dressing to go out with me. "Let's go to a movie, Little Girl."

"Yes, Sir. Can we please see the Sherlock Holmes movie?"

"Good idea." I had smiled and taken your chin in my fingers. "You are a good little pet. And perhaps a late dinner after."

"I'll get dressed. Give me fifteen minutes."

I smiled as I watched you trot across the parquet and up the stairs. Your lovely figure was irresistible. I felt my cock stir thinking about how I would take you when we got home later.

You ran into your bedroom and quickly stripped. You opened your lingerie drawer and selected the black Lise Charmel garter, bra, and panty set with dark silk stockings. You had been waiting for a night to wear them. You chose a black wool pleated skirt and hunter green cashmere sweater..

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Wicked red lipstick would do the trick. And a string of pearls. You quickly tied your hair up. You smiled. "Yes — this will please him," you said to your reflection.

You grabbed a crochet shawl on the way out your bedroom door. You skipped down the hall, pranced down the stairs, you ran to my open arms.

Our mouths found each other's. The kiss was deep and hot. As you wrapped your arms around my neck, you felt me lifting your skirt.

My hand slipped into your panties. You gushed. I played with you, pinching you clitoris, bringing you close to orgasm while you gasped. I began to work your cunnie with my fingers.

When I was satisfied you were well lubricated, I withdrew my hand, but soon it was back, pressing something against your opening.

"You'll need to spread your legs a little bit, my love." I told you.

You looked into my eyes. "Spread now, dear." I softly commanded. You crouched slightly as you complied and you felt me pushing something into you. It was not large, but not small and as it slipped inside, you felt slightly full. It reminded you of the ben-wa balls I had you wear sometimes. You could feel a short cord hanging out of your pussy lips.

"Naughty Daddy," you said and kissed me. "I love you."

"I love you too, Little Girl," I said as I held your left wrist behind you. "You will always be my Little Girl, darling. No matter where you go. No matter what you do. You belong to me, my love. You are mine."

You smiled. "Yes, Sir. I am yours."

I took your hand as we walked to the front hall. As you walked, you were aware of the toy in your pussy and as you bent over to put on your boots, you felt it shift slightly, a naughty little tease.

I helped you on with the sable coat and hat. As I opened the door, I turned to take your hand and just as you stepped over the threshold into the cold evening air, you felt the toy whirr inside you. It was a delicious vibration. You froze. You looked at me, eyes wide.

I smiled. "Good girl."

"Daddy — I."

"Yes, darling."

The vibration stopped. You felt a little wobbly. You giggled nervously. I pulled you to me. I kissed you deep and hard. You stood on your tip-toes and whispered in my ear, "Oh — Oh — I love you so much, Daddy. I think I'm going to really enjoy the dinner and movie." You giggled.

Our car drove us to the theater. We were let in the side door. The theater manager took our coats. We were ushered to seats waiting for us in the darkened room. The movie had just begun. You snuggled against me and held my hand.

Then, whirr. Your naughty secret came to life. You squeezed my hand and squirmed in your seat. You felt your pussy, gush again. You looked up at me, your lips parted, breathing deeply.

I smiled and turned to watch the movie. You were too busy to watch the movie. I knew it. I held your hand, feeling you tremble. You saw me smile. You knew I was enjoying your predicament. You felt my gentle dominance. You knew I was in control.

You felt your panties getting drenched. The vibrator was pulsing now. You were struggling not to reveal your excitement too much. You were getting closer — closer. Breathing irregularly... the vibrations stopped.

You squeezed my hand and tried to concentrate on the movie. After ten or so minutes, you settled down.

It was a fun movie and when it was over, we sat while the theater emptied out, watching the credits. We got up to leave. The manager met us at the side door with our coats.

A voice you knew greeted us. "Hi there!" It was Kristin. "I thought that was you." She was with a few girls from school. You immediately brightened and hugged her and the other girls. The girls were admiring your coat and hat and making a fuss over you and you turned and extended your hand to me, saying "...and you, of course, know..." The girls turned and shook my hand and as they did — whirr.

You were a little stunned. It was so very public and you were trying to talk and laugh with your friends. But you fell silent and had to content yourself to watching as they talked to me. You were consumed by the waves of arousal rippling up your spine from your pussy. You could think of little else.

I took your hand and pulled you closer to me. Kristin wanted to know how you liked the movie and I said, "Yes, how did you like the movie?"

You stuttered, "I — I thought it was great. I — liked — it." The vibrator was pulsing again. You looked up at me. I smiled at you and squeezed your hand. You were being uncharacteristically monosyllabic. You knew I was playing with you. It felt naughty and wicked. You knew I was in control of you and it only made you more excited. You were getting dangerously close to... and the vibrations stopped.

Your friends and I were talking and laughing. You began to focus on the conversation again. You perked up and said, a little breathlessly, "We were just going out for some late supper."

Kristin said, "Oh! So were we. Where are you two heading?"

Still flustered and without thinking, you turned to me and said, "Daddy, let's take my friends out for supper."

There was an nearly imperceptible pause as your pet name for me registered with your friends. But Kristin was quick and said, "That would be wonderful — we were just going to TGIF..." 

And you said, "Please, let's take my friends. Besides, that way, you'll have a harem to keep you company tonight — I know you can't resist that — you're a shameless flirt."

Your friends giggled and I smiled, "Of course, that'll be fine. We have reservations at Dal Mare. I'll call ahead and have them set four more places."

So the deed was done. Calls were made. Your friends, except for Kristin, went off to their car — Kristin was to ride with us. By the time we climbed into the car, you had regained your composure.

We sat in a row in the back of grand the old Mercedes 600 as our driver made his way through the snowy streets, over the hill, and back down to the center of the historic district. Almost all of the windows of the buildings were lit by little electric candles — very picturesque.

You and Kristin held hands and chatted — filling each other in on the latest news. When we arrived at the restaurant, our coats were taken and we were shown to our seats at the long table that had been prepared for us in the corner.

It was late and the clientele were mostly sipping their after dinner drinks and savoring their deserts. Your friends had never been to this place — it was not appropriate for a student's budget — and they were obviously excited. When the chef came out to greet us, their eyes got kind of big.

"It's so nice to see you again."

"Thank you, Gabriel. It's good to see you again, too."

"When I heard you are coming, I stayed late. What can I make you?"

"Gabriel, just feed us. We came here for your cooking. Please make us a dinner."

He laughed, "What cook could resist such an offer?" He gestured at the matre'd who gestured at the two waiters who were already pouring water for everyone. "I will make you and your lovely companions a seafood feast. Are you hungry, ladies?"

Your friends all laughed and said a resounding "YES."

Drinks were served — martinis, wine. Bruschetta and other antipasto came to the table. Steamed muscles. You all were having a blast. You were flanked by Kristin and me. You leaned up, openly kissed my cheek, and whispered, "Thank you, Daddy." You held my hand on top of the table. Your friends smiled as they noticed.

A second round of drinks. Gabriel's timing was perfect. He was letting everybody rest before the pasta course. Conversation was light and lively. Laughter was bubbling.

Your pussy was suddenly tickled by the egg vibrator. It was revving up. You squeezed my hand and fell silent. It felt so good and so naughty. You squirmed in your seat. Your pussy was drenched. You were afraid you would come and at the same time you wanted to come — right there in secret — in front of your friends — holding my hand. You were trying to appear normal. You were so close... so close...

The fish course arrived and everyone looked up — distracted just in time...

You came. Warmly. Luxuriously. You gasped and squirmed. You looked up at me. I smiled. You shuddered. I said softly, "Good girl." The vibrator stopped.

You caught you breath as the waiters served us. You whispered, "Oh, God, Daddy. Oh — that was so naughty." You smiled and then giggled. You slid your hand into my lap under the long table cloth and stroked my hard cock through my trousers. "But what about you?"

I smiled. "Later, my pet."

Dinner was served, several wonderful courses with perfectly chosen wine — and Gabriel joined us for desert. He was witty and charming and held your friends in his spell. You snuggled against me. You were pleased and proud to have shown me off a little. It had been fun. You were a little tipsy and you felt sexy and mischievous.

The check came. I signed it.

Coats donned, we all said our goodbyes. We held hands waving at your friends as they climbed into their Chevette. Our car came around and we got in the back. Soon we were home. We held hands as we stepped inside the tall old Victorian doors.

"Did you have fun tonight, Little Girl."

"Oh yes, Daddy. Very much. You were so bad. But Daddy — now, please, How about you?"

I helped you off with your coat and hat and, as I put them away and hung up my own, you shed your boots. I turned to you, "Now, off with your sweater."

"But Daddy! What about Margaret and Louise? What if they should happen to see me?" You said in perfect mock protest. Truth is, you were a little concerned.

"Not to worry, my Pet," I said, as I began to unbutton your blouse, "If they see you, they will simply be better informed about one of the things that endears you to me so. Good girl. And now let's get rid of that skirt."

So you soon stood in only the exquisite black lingerie you had put on earlier. You were lovely. Your dark skin was like that vision of summertime that I nearly always associated with its color — warm, soft. Your shape and proportions — gentle curves of your neck and shoulders, perfect small breasts slightly pushed up by the brazier, slender waist showing softly defined muscles, the curves of you hips accentuated by the black lace, your strong legs — I smiled. "You are lovely, darling. And you were wonderful tonight."

You stepped toward me and, standing on your tip-toes, you wrapped your arms around my neck and kissed me deeply and long. I held you to me. You moved in my arms instinctively, seducing me, urging me — your tongue exploring my mouth.

I slid my hand up your back and gripped your curly hair.

You gasped, "Oh, Daddy! I love you."

I slowly bent your head backward by pulling your hair, exposing your neck which I leaned down and bit and kissed and I slowly turned you around so your back was facing me. Your pussy was wet.

I brought your wrists together behind you and you felt me binding them. But you felt me weaving the binding cloth up your arms as if I was lacing a shoe — up your forearms, over your elbows, tying your arms together firmly but not uncomfortably. I tied the bindings.

I led you from the front hall to the big old living room. A fire was blazing on the hearth. Candles were lit, the room was warm. You stood right before the fireplace on the thick old Chinese rug. I unfastened your brazier and undid the shoulder straps. Your breasts were revealed. Perfect. Hooking my fingers in your panty waistband, I slid them down off your legs.

"Please kneel, darling," I said matter-of-factly.

With some effort, you complied. I walked over to the large sofa and sat, looking at you — admiring your beauty. The fire was hot on your skin, you were excited. You were wondering how I would have you.

You were aware, as you had been all evening, of the slight pressure of the egg vibrator tucked in your cunnie. Even when it had not been vibrating, it had been a gentle erotic reminder of my dominance. You felt sexy and feline. You knew I was watching you. You wanted to make me want you.

Whirrrr. The egg, without its usual gentle start, began to vibrate hard and fast inside you. It sent chills up your spine and you squealed involuntarily. It began to pulse. You swayed on your knees — a beautiful sexy dance.

Your breathing was irregular. You were being driven to orgasm. And it overtook you quickly. You arched with its intensity and you threw you head back in abandon. It was so wonderful to not hold back after your night of restraint. You cried out, "Oh — Oh yeeesssss! Oh yessssss!" Your whole body shuddered with the intensity of the waves of orgasm.

As you came back to earth, the egg still vibrating and already lifting you to your next, you were confronted with my hard, naked cock right in front of your face. Mt right hand gripped your hair. You looked up at me. My cock touched your dangerously painted red lips. You opened your lovely small mouth.

I pushed my cock in. You could taste my salty pre-come. My cock was hot and felt large and it found its way deep, deep — and into the top of your throat. You relaxed and controlled your gag reflex perfectly.

I began to slowly and luxuriously fuck your mouth as the egg lifted you again. You were moaning with your pleasure, and it felt so good to be used. You worked me with your tongue to increase my enjoyment. My hand in your hair was guiding you as my cock slid deep into your throat with each stroke.

You were so pretty with your red lips stretched around my cock, looking up at me as I fucked you mouth. "Good little girl. Good little submissive," I said.

I felt you shudder. Delicious. You were getting close to coming again. Very close.

With my cock only half way in, I smiled down at you as you looked up. You were shaking, right on the edge of orgasm.

"Take a deep breath, Little Girl. Take a deep breath. That's it." I slid my cock deep into your throat and held it there just at the right moment. You came — squirming and groaning with my cock thrust down your throat, your nose pressed against my pubis.

As you came you sucked and squeezed my cock. It was marvelous. And I couldn't resist — you felt my cock swell. I groaned and you felt my hot seed pumping down your greedy throat. Pump, pump, pump. You swallowed eagerly as you squealed in the final waves of your orgasm. The flavor of my come now filled your mouth. You felt me shuddering. You knew I would be very pleased.

Hot and slippery and salty as I withdrew my cock. I released my grip on your hair. You swallowed the last drops. The vibrations were still pulsing. You were swaying and gasping. You knew you'd come again soon.

You were looking up at me as I buttoned my trousers. You were moaning as I put my hand in my pocket. The vibrations wound down and stopped.

"Come on, Little Girl," I said as I helped you stand. "Up we go." I crouched and slung you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried you upstairs. You were surprised at my strength. I opened the door to my room - our room.

I set you down on the floor. "Now — up on the bed you go." I lifted you up on the the bed and helped you get situated, pulling and tugging you gently until you were over your bolster, legs spread wide, your tail high in the air. I tied you firmly. Your face was in the soft covers. I fitted a velvet scarf over your eyes and tied it.

You felt me caressing your hips, slipping my fingers between your ass cheeks. I was working lubrication into your ass — sliding my finger into you. You moaned and squirmed. The vibrator began tickling you again. I was working your ass with two fingers now. It was delicious and naughty.

Then, after I withdrew my fingers, you felt something pushing into you. You knew it was a plug. You squirmed as I pushed firmly and so you helped to work it in. The vibrator was pulsing. You were whimpering as the plug worked deeper, and you realized it was much bigger than you had thought. It was stretching you much further.

That sensation of being made to take the plug, of being forced, the vibrator relentlessly pulsing — you began to come — just as the large plug slipped into place. You were taken, filled, tied, completely at my whim and ready. You were coming so hard you screamed. It was wonderful. You felt my hand on your back as you writhed and screamed again.

"Good girl. Good girl."

The vibration stopped. You were spent. You knew it was just the way I wanted you. Ready for my use — and you found it deeply satisfying.

You felt me get off the bed. You heard me moving around the room. There was a sense that I was taking my time. You heard me undress. You heard me go into the bathroom. You heard me start a shower. No hurry.

Now the vibrator in your cunnie whirrs from time to time, keeping you excited, but not allowing you to come. It presses into your G-spot thanks to the large plug in your ass, stretching you.

You are spent. You squirm slightly, enjoying the occasional vibration, otherwise you lie passively luxuriating in your satisfied state and knowing that you are waiting for me. You feel deeply a sweet happiness in being mine. You feel with certainty that this is where you belong. You are my submissive — my little girl.

You hear me getting out of the shower. I am coming back into the bedroom. You feel the bed move as I climb on, kneeling next to you.

My hand is on your back. You feel me grip the plug and pull firmly. You gasp as it stretches you, then slides out. You feel me pulling on the egg vibrator's cord. It slips out of your pussy. You feel strangely empty.

But I am behind you. My hands are gripping your waist. You feel the head of my cock flirting with the opening of your ass hole. You are completely relaxed, waiting. You have submitted.

With a slight push, the head of my cock slips into you easily. You mew and I stroke your back. Tied and spread wide, you are vulnerable and at my mercy.

I push harder. My swollen member slides in easily. It is deep inside. You are impaled. You are completely mine.

And so I fuck you now. Taking my time. You are warm and glowey from having come so many times over the course of the evening. You moan and whimper. You know that you are being used now for my pleasure. You let me take you. You revel in submitting completely.




Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 33



I slow nearly to a stop, enjoying the feel of you — your heat. Then I fuck you hard and fast then slow again. You nearly come several times, but I slow each time, keeping you on the edge.

It seems like I fuck you forever, taking my fill of you. "God, Little Girl, you are delicious." As my cock pushes in and pulls out, your ass is pushed and pulled — your flesh is flexed. Although you are stretched open from the plug, it is a delightful sensation.

But then I slide out of you. I get off the bed and go into the bathroom. You barely move. You wait in stillness, in submission.

You hear me washing off, drying. Then I'm back again, behind you, and in one thrust, I have taken your pussy.

You smile as you feel me taking my pleasure. You can tell it won't be very long now — I have an urgency that you recognize. You feel a sudden wave of excitement. You will come soon.

I dig my fingers into your hips. I am gripping you hard and it feels wonderful. You are on the edge. My cock swells.

Your orgasm smashes into you like a tidal wave from nowhere. You scream again, calling my name and that compels me to come. I shout as I pump my seed deep into your waiting cunt. You are writhing, consumed by your exquisite pleasure. I am thrust to the deepest extent, my fingers dug into your voluptuous flesh. Your cunnie is convulsing, milking me. Your cervix is twitching, drinking me in.

With my cock still inside you, I begin to untie your arms — like unlacing a shoe. Your arms free, you stretch them above your head. 

I pull out of you. I untie your legs. And you pounce. Laughing and knocking me back. You straddle me. You grab my arms and push them down above my head. You slither onto my cock, still hard and at the ready.

"My turn, Daddy." 



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 34



Offering

You sat on the soft cushion of the window seat – the one that was built into the great bay window of your bedroom. You were trembling and you didn't know why.

The moonlight poured in those tall bay windows – the windows that overlooked the frozen garden below – and it flowed over the deep sills behind the built-in window seats. The light gently illuminated the table there and the crystal vase of white roses; and it fell into your hands resting, cupped on the table-top. The rich, summer color of your fingers and palms seemed to hold the gentle light. And you smiled.

As you looked around across the deep carpet, the fire was low in your marble fireplace. The one candle burned on the bed-table where you had lit it. The covers on your bed were folded back. The room was warm.

You turned away, and leaned toward the window and watched the trees swaying in the night winter wind, casting their moon-shadows on the snowy ground. The frigid air outside reached its chill through the glass to your cheek. The grandmother moon had called to your young heart. You would obey.

"Very good, Little One." That inner whisper – the voice you had come to think of as your companion – the sisterly presence you shared your room with. "I am with you tonight." You felt her touch your heart, the way she does – a tender caress. You inhaled deeply and leaned your head back. Blissful.

You stood, and taking a solitary rose out of the vase, you positioned it on the table there – snow white. Crossing the room, you opened the bed table drawer and found your stack of fine lace handkerchiefs there. You placed one of the squares of delicate fabric under your pillow.

Walking around your bed, you paused. You put your hand on the heavy glass doorknob and hesitated, looking at your hand – feeling the moment. Then you grinned and turned the knob, opening the door to the adjoining room – my room – our room. I sat there in the high-backed chair, reading.

I looked up and smiled at you. Your dark eyes sparkled in the reading-light. You leaned and reached across me and turned it off. You knew you were giving me a view of your breasts as your robe opened slightly. Righting yourself again, without a word, you took my hand and lead me into the inviting darkness of your room.

Over its threshold, you let go of my hand by your bed and stepped away from me so I could watch as you slowly, luxuriously undid the silk belt that held your robe together. You stood, looking up at me, watching as I took in the sight – the vision of loveliness – the young lady offering herself to her older lover; to the man that adores her – and, as you now thought, to her master.

You though to yourself – in my voice, "Such a good pet." The thought aroused you.

You opened the robe slowly, revealing the soft form of your breasts, shoulders, and neck. Your curly hair cascaded over your shoulder. Your heart was pounding inside. Your nipples had become erect.

You were watching my face intently and you saw the delight and the hunger in my eyes. I smiled and your heart ignited. You gasped. How could it be – this new life you found?

Sitting across from me at breakfast in that little café near campus – laughing together when we met for lunch at the Student Center – it seemed so normal – as if it had always been this way. Sometimes, when old fears leaped out of nowhere and cast their shadows across your eyes, you would text me and the shadows would dissipate with my reply. The days before we met seemed a lifetime away. How could it be?

Sometimes, when you felt overwhelmed by everything, when you felt angry and defiant, you tried not to belong to me. Sometimes you told yourself you would run away from everything; from school, from your friends, from me. Sometimes you thought maybe you should be on your own. You would go somewhere that nobody knew you and you would start all over again. Free.

But then you'd realize that you were on your own. This was your choice. You had found the home you always wanted, but didn't know you were looking for. You already had run away. You belonged to me now like the ocean and land belong together. Yes – and so I belonged to you too. As it had always, always been. Timeless.

You felt your pussy moisten – an instinctive reaction. You gasped again. So it was a choice and involuntary too. Like a moth to a flame. You needed this. You couldn't resist it. And there was a kind of wild freedom in it. Freedom in the context of our mutual possession. How could it be?

You were accustomed to being the smartest person in the room. Growing up, you always had been. Even now, in college, although you were surrounded by brilliant people, you took it for granted sometimes – you learned so quickly and easily. But here with me, it was different than it had ever been. You had found a mate – and a playmate. Your flashes of brilliance were met with my steady hand. I always seemed to understand you – sometimes better than you understood yourself.

You felt like you were growing up so fast. You could feel how you were no longer a girl – you had become very-much the young woman. The very challenges of being together had changed you. You slowly inhaled. You knew I could see your mind and that was thrilling.

You knew that I was patient. You often felt me watching you with a sort-of steady consideration – a kind of reserved observation. It made you feel seen and understood – and exposed. You shivered. Your pussy moistened more again. Yes, you knew that I was waiting until you were ready. Well – you were ready now.

Your robe fell to the floor. You slowly turned around – away from me. You wanted to show me what was mine.

You were lovely and you felt it under my gaze. Your curly hair cascaded over your shoulders. Your warm skin drank in the candle light, returning the highlights and depths of shadow that defined your form. Gentle curves stretching across your skeleton; your vertebrae and ribs just showing beneath the flesh. There, as you flexed your neck to look back at me over your right shoulder, was your scapula floating in its tendons' grasp. And there was your waist as it curved above your pelvis' wings. The valentine of your coccyx just above the fold between your hips inviting me to explore what lay between. All in good time.

I stepped to you, behind you, and you leaned against me, craning your neck back and up, parting your lips for the kiss I gave you. My mouth was hot and urgent, but controlled, waiting – waiting for just the right moment to press my attack. You felt weak in the knees. I felt your shudder.

I slid my hands from high on your back down to your waist and gripped you. I held you there as I kissed and nibbled your right shoulder. You lifted your hand and played with my hair – soft, so fine, blonde.

Suddenly, you wanted to tell me everything. You longed to say all that was in your heart and on your mind. How worried you had been about school, about your life. But now, as I held you so tight and so safe, the words came out, a whisper: "My Shujin,"and you breathed my name and you nibbled my ear and you felt my strong hands take control of you, sliding up your sides and around you and gripping your breasts. You gasped. I pinched your nipples – just right – just the way you often long for it; and you moaned softly.

So I firmly turned you around to face me and I held you against my chest. I pulled your head back by your hair and I kissed you tenderly – then hard – then so gentle it was like a Luna Moth's wings fluttering against your mouth.

You swallowed and blinked hard – that adorable way you do. "I love you," I said softly.

"Oh God, my very own Shujin. Here for real. I love you too. So much."

I let you move away from me and you lifted your arms to unbutton my shirt. Slowly. One button at a time, pulling its tails out of my trousers as you got to the garment's bottom – six of its seven buttons – and you ran your hands under the cotton – feeling my chest – teasing my nipples.

You brought your right hand to rest over my heart. You felt it beating there. You grinned and looked down, taking my hand and placing it between your breasts and you said, "What does my heart say, Shujin?" You looked up at me mischievously. "What does it say?"

I smiled and thought and smiled more broadly. "Your heart sings ballads of hope and youth, Konekochan. Of tomorrows and mornings to come." I brushed your hair back with my left hand. "Your heart beats the rhythm of promise." I chuckled. "It scoffs at your liver's cautious warnings and flippantly tosses away her purifying wisdom." I laughed softly, perhaps a little self-indulgently at my own wit, and you smiled, your lips slightly parted.

I looked deep into your dark eyes and tenderly stroked your cheek. "Your heart may briefly succumb to fear, Little Girl, but it is not made of it and so it will emerge again to laugh at your nightmares." I paused and smiled. "Your heart is faithful. Your heart wants love. It will not be refused."

You gasped and blinked again and placed your hand back on my chest and said, breathily, "What does your heart say, Shujin?"

"You tell me, Little Love."

"Very well," you giggled, and you began, looking down, "Then – your heart sings harmony. Or perhaps it is really the melody – the melody – of – of our lives' ballad – our lives' duet. Your heart waltzes, Shujin, to a dance of the world, of its stuff –," you seemed suddenly far away and said very thoughtfully, "– all its – stuff." You paused as if you were listening and began again. "But he says he still dreams the dreams of your youth. Even though you stopped believing in him for a time, he faithfully preserved those dreams for you." You looked up at me and smiled. "Faithful heart indeed. I remind you of that, don't I?" Your smile faded to a look of wonder. "I remind you of your dreams, don't I Shujin? Perhaps that is why the world sent me to you – through all its stuff – all its time – and material stuff."

You lifted your arms and wrapped them around my neck standing on your tip-toes to kiss me. Your tongue explored my mouth. You could feel the fine cotton of my shirt against your naked breasts. My arms were around you, complementing your lingering embrace.

You broke off the kiss. You smiled again and your voice took on a sultry tone, "What I have is yours, Shujin. My heart, my liver." You pushed my shirt off my shoulders and it fell. You began quickly undoing my belt, unbuttoning my trousers. You pushed them down and off 'till I was naked too.

You knelt down and kissed my cock, sliding your hands up the backs of my legs and gripping my hips. You took it into your mouth and sucked and felt it pulsing as it began to harden, swelling while you took my balls in your hand. I sighed and wove my fingers into your curls.

You took my cock deep into your mouth. I was suddenly hard. You felt it pressing down your tongue, tasted the salty pre-come. Fully erect now, as you took it all the way in, it pressed its way down to the very top of your throat. You sucked it and bit it very gently, perfectly, your nose pressed into my pubis and your throat milked its tip.

You felt me shudder with the pleasure your were giving me and you thought, "That's right, my baby boy, your Little Koneko is yours, but she owns you too."

You slid your mouth off, you stood gracefully. "Come on, dreamer, take me." Your voice was warm and you grabbed my hand as you lithely jumped backward and up onto the bed. You spread your legs and put my fingers between – right there – on your pussy lips and leaned back and spread wantonly. "Come on, baby. Come on, Shujin."

Your cunny was wet and slick and I slid a finger, then two, between the lips and up into you, hooking around and catching your g-spot just right. You squealed and nearly came. "Oh, God!" and you squirmed on the bed inviting me.

I laughed. You were delightful. You giggled. "All right, naughty Little Girl," I said warmly.

You leaned back on your hands. You looked up into my eyes as I worked you. And I took my left hand, wetting its fingers in my mouth and snuck it up under and into your naughty little ass-hole. "Oh GOD!" you exclaimed as I frigged you – and you came – so hard – so long. "Hnnnnngggggg. Oh! Oh, yeessssss," the muscles of your young cunny gripping my fingers, your ass clamping down on me – yes – hard.

The look on your face was one of slight amazement. Then, throwing your head back, it was your turn; you laughed for the sheer delight of it – and it was like the warm, young voice of spring. As if in answer, or perhaps like a harmony, the winter wind howled especially loudly and rattled the shutters.

So you grabbed my hands again and lasciviously took my fingers out of your cunny and ass. You pulled me into bed, drawing my right hand to your mouth and sucking your wetness from my fingers. My left hand's fingers were not at all soiled from your sweet little ass, and you very naughtily sucked them, tasting the faint tang of your fundament. So naughty.

You snuggled us under the covers. You held me close, my hard cock against your belly. You shoved me back and climbed on top of me and pushed and wriggled and moaned again as your greedy pussy lips yielded.

You kissed me over and over. You undulated as you began to fuck me.

I reveled in your abandon. I held your waist as you moved. Your tight little cunny was milking me, you would have my seed inside you soon. But not yet. I grabbed you and threw you beneath me. I wanted the upper hand.

I took your wrists and thrust them behind your head, where I held them fast. Then, my cock still deep inside you, I slid my right hand down your belly and between your pussy lips to your clitoris. I began to tease it as I fucked you slowly.

"Don't you come, Little Girl – not until I tell you to," I growled softly in your ear. I had you right on the edge.

"Oh, Shujin! Please – please let me come." You were trembling. I was holding you there at the edge of orgasm. I knew you loved this game. I knew you loved to be made to wait for my permission.

"Hush, Little Love. Not yet. Now relax. Hush."

"But Shujin! Oh God!"

"Relax, my love."

You felt confused. What did I mean? You wanted so badly to come. You were on the edge – so hot – right there...

And there was that whisper – the inner voice. "Let go, Little One. I'll show you how. Let me share your body." And you inwardly responded to your companion: "Yes, Sister. Yes."

You heard me: "Let go, Koneko. Surrender." And so then you let go. You felt yourself falling. Deep. So deep. But I was there all around you and through you. You sighed and kissed my mouth. You shuddered. It was as if you were lit from inside. 

You felt me lift you. You were sitting on my lap with your legs around me, my legs under you. So intimate. And everything melted away.

You held me. I held you. That's all there was. Just us. You had the sense that you were home. You thrilled. You rested in my embrace for – minutes, for – for how long?

Now – how long has it been? It doesn't matter. Thoughts like these barely touch your awareness.

You are naked. It feels good to be naked – open – completely exposed. You are sitting on my lap, facing me. It feels good to be so close and possessed. Your legs are around me. Your arms are around me. I am holding you around your waist. You know you are safe. You know you belong to me.

Your face is even with mine. Our lips are barely touching. Your breasts are touching my chest – your erect nipples being subtly teased by the sensation. There is the smell of our commingled sweat, musky and sweetly animal. You are filled with strong, constant arousal.

You can feel my ribs expand and fall – so slowly. You can hear the air as it passes through my nose – so softly. You can feel the beat of my heart through my chest – through the tease of your nipples – so close – so very close.

And just when you begin to form a thought, it collapses again into stillness – a quiet where only we exist.

You feel your own breathing. It matches mine exactly – effortlessly. You feel your own young heart beating – steady, slow and strong. And you feel your pussy lips opened, dripping wet, and my cock deep inside you.

We are sharing an incredible intimacy. You can feel my love flowing through you – palpable, sweet. And your own heart is lit from within.

"Oh, Shujin," you whisper.

How long has it been? It doesn't matter.

We are adrift together deep beneath the surface of a slow, strong river. Your spine undulates very slowly – perfectly – like a strand of silver light waving gently in the current; like a mermaid swimming – but by doing so, all the time very slowly fucking me as I guide you.

Every breath draws in a vibrating alive substance that fills your head and lungs and flows out through your arms and legs. And because of the closeness of my mouth, it seems as if we are inhaling each other's breath. With every exhale, you can feel the electric charge that surrounds your skin expand and blend with mine. You tenderly brush my lips with yours and I respond with the slightest touch to your upper lip with my tongue. Warm. Tender.

You hear yourself moan quietly, but it is as if you hear it from so far inside yourself that the part of you that moaned is just a surface part of you. You hear me whisper, "I love you too," but it is as if my voice is at that surface level – the real communication has been from the same, deep part of me that is so close to your own self that there is little difference. Your heart is flooded with a green light that tastes sweet on your tongue.

My cock, inside you so far that it nestles against your cervix, throbs and pulses and has an electricity of its own. And so does your cunny – wet, pulsing, gripping me. This union creates a flow of energy between us that is at once like a joining of our souls and also like hot, raw sexual fire – and the fire seems to smolder all through your abdomen and especially at the base of your spine.

You can feel my hands have moved to your hips and my thumbs meeting at this very spot at the base of your spine. That valentine. With every one of your slow undulations, I gently help move you. We are like one thing divided into two parts – two souls together; joined – one thing.

With your eyes closed, you can see us as if you are looking through your eyelids, yet your sight isn't limited to your eyes' point of reference. You can see us as if you are looking through a transparency – our bodies made of light.

You are aware of my intent. You are aware of how I am holding you, pulling you deep, keeping you here in the inner silence – holding you here in this river where you are swimming as you fuck me.

In this place, in this depth, in this pool of light – here suspended – with the fire of sex burning inside, you perceive your heart, like a flower opening. And as it opens, you gasp involuntarily and you hear me inhale more deeply – you know I have felt it too.

There is music in your head; a constant chord. Like voices – like bells – like the sound of glasses being played – a finger-tip on each rim.

And a vision rises from the depth of your awareness and projects against your inner landscape. A memory. A time like this but long ago. Fleeting but unmistakable and, even though you remain conscious of the present, of our union, you are also in the reality of the memory.

You smile and whisper, "Shujin." It is a statement of fact – of recognition. It is night in this other place. It is warm and dark. There is space all around us in the garden where we sit – joined just like this with the stars above us.

Then the vision is gone.

But with that vision – that memory – comes a change. You feel different. You are ageless, truly timeless now. And you feel as if your view sweeps back into far reaches of worlds within worlds. You are boundless. You are full.




Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 34



Turning back, you see us as if from outside. You see your young, naked body, slowly, erotically moving. You see the beauty of your back and neck, your hips sitting on my lap, my legs crossed under you. Even as you watch from outside, you can feel yourself from inside too. And the fire in your spine. And your cunny filled with me.

So you feel a particularly strong rush and a snap and you are rooted in your body again. And the flames leap up your spine to your head. You are invincible. Immortal.

How long has it been? It doesn't matter.

Time no longer has meaning. You kiss me gently. Every breath brings the sparkling light into your lungs – the light kissing your blood – your blood kissing your flesh – the heat of your flesh gripping my cock – my cock on fire inside you but also drinking you in like nectar.

I return the kiss. Our tongues meet and we suck each other's breath. You feel the sexual intensity rip through you like a thunderbolt. You gasp and throw your head back. You arch while I hold you against me so strong and tight.

You come back to me. You grip my cock with your pussy. You dig your fingers into the flesh of my back. You feel it begin.

But even now, you are also silent inside. You touch your forehead to mine and shudder. Your erect nipples brush against my chest again as you fuck harder. And it builds.

You whisper, "Now, Shujin." It is not a question – you are asking permission, yes, but it is also a statement, again, of fact. In this moment, the word has a particular meaning – now.

It means no more waiting. It means you are really here. It acknowledges how we have come to this place through time and the world's material stuff to find each other – again – and that this is meant to be.

So you say it again, so softly, "Now, Shujin." And I answer, "Yes, now."

I am giving you permission, but I am also reinforcing the statement. You know that I am feeling the timelessness too. We are together for real and you are here – for real.

My hands, on your waist, push and pull you helping with your rhythm. Guiding you. You feel my strength and my will. You feel a perfect balance of surrender and self-determination. You feel how very much I love you.

You kiss my mouth again – deeply. You gasp. You slowed your movements.

You are consumed by a wave so strong that you feel like you are inside-out – and yet very still. You are lit up from within. Your muscles flex, your fingers grip my back deeply, digging into my flesh.

You are trembling in my arms. Suddenly your companion is so very present inside you. She, too, is using your fingers to grip me. You feel so strong.

"Oh, my God," you whisper. "Now."

You kiss me again – so very deeply – and as you do, you feel my cock swell. It begins to pump hot liquid fire into you and you smile inwardly as it sends you higher. You inhale sharply. You arch back again and grind down on my cock while you are swept into an orgasm that is all consuming. Glorious. Joy.

Long and luxurious and slow. You shudder and shake, wave after wave of energy and orgasm flowing through and around you. You gasp and ride the waves. You suddenly sweat and fuck me harder, releasing yourself into an even deeper orgasm.

But now you are filled with the animal joy of your victory. My seed is inside you. My arms are around you. You throw your head back and scream.

No words. No words can can convey the fire, the joy, the – the victory – of life in this moment. No fear nor dark tide nor hesitation here. No waiting. Victory and joy. Now. Now. Right here and now. And you bite my shoulder as you come hard and long, gripping with your legs around me, your arms around me.

You press your cheek into my neck. I feel your cunt still convulsing, milking me involuntarily. Your sweet young body wants every last drop.

"You are mine." I say, warmly. And you whisper, "Yes. Forever, Shujin. And you are mine."

Your hear the voice of your companion whisper inside, "Yes. Forever. Thank you. Thank you, Little One."

As you slowly relax, you unwrap your legs. You push me back and lay me down, withdrawing my still hard flesh from your sopping wet cunt. You reach under your pillow and take out the lace handkerchief you had placed there for use in this moment. You kneel over me, straddling me, and I watch as you wipe your cunny with it. The lace is soaking wet and you place it by your pillow. The smell is pungent; our sweat and sex.

You are chilly. You lie next to me, pulling the thick covers over us. You rest your head on my chest and listen to my heart while I play with your hair. You are smiling, waiting.

Soon my breathing has slowed. My fingers have fallen from your curls. You rise and grin at me asleep in the candle-light. You take the wet handkerchief and climb from under the covers. You stride across the room to your table.

There, in the moonlight, you fold the handkerchief and place the rose on top. You glance up at the moon and smile. "Here you are, Mistress," you whisper.

Then like a slight shift of light, you see a form in the corner of your eye and you hear a whisper so palpable that you turn toward it involuntarily. There is a shimmering presence. "Well done. Well done, Little One."

You gasp. Then she is gone.

Still naked, my warmth still leaking from between your legs, you sit back down on the window-seat cushion and shiver. You cup your hands on the table again – full of moonlight – again. You are happy. The sense of timelessness persists.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 35



Winter Carnival

It hadn't come last year, but you had heard about it – the Winter Carnival that pitched its tents in the valley just the other side of the river that ran below the University. You had heard about it from the kids. It seemed strange. In the middle of winter; a carnival.

But one morning as you walked from the big old Victorian house on one hill to school on the other, you heard banging and a clamor and you turned and there it was – the snow had been plowed off the large field between the bridges, workmen were driving tent-stakes into the ground, there were horses in a paddock, animals in cages, old-fashioned rides being erected and signs and trailers. It looked quite extensive and exciting.

In class, some of your friends were talking about it. It would open Friday night. They were going. Could you come too.

"I'll have to ask Shujin," you blurted. But your friends didn't seem to notice you'd used one of your private names for me because the Physics professor came into the room and you all found seats and class began. Besides that, you realized, as you picked up your pencil, I was away on business again leaving you alone for a week with Margaret and Louise and, of course, Miss Brooks.

You sighed and tried to focus on class, but your mind drifted back to the night before, and the professor's voice became a background drone as your memory painted the images of our love-making in your imagination. You squirmed slightly in your seat as you recalled my hard cock, deep in your cunny as you, on top, rode me – your arms tied behind you – your nipples wearing the naughty clamps with their little bells that jingled as you took your pleasure. You felt yourself moisten at the thought and you knew that part of the sudden wetness between your pussy lips was my come still leaking from you.

Thursday passed by – class, study, an evening texting your friends and a call from me as usual. You told me of your day. I told you about mine. We laughed together as you filled me in on Miss Brook's latest antics. I would be home Sunday night. Yes, I would bring you presents. I would be out very late tomorrow night and might not be able to call until after your bedtime.

"OK, Daddy. Oh – the Winter Carnival came to town, may I please go with my friends?" Asking permission was a ritual you enjoyed. You found it a subtly erotic reminder of your submission.

"Of course, Little Love. Bundle up."

"Yes, Shujin."

So on Friday late afternoon when you emerged from the old stone building your math class was in, standing there on the wide terrace, you had a perfect view of the set-up in the valley across the river below. There was a main tent – very large – and two smaller ones and there was row upon row of attractions and trailers and shows and rides; a veritable circus. You could see the front gate with its banners and ticket-counter. All was ready for opening night.

Your friends came out of the building behind you and gathered 'round discussing plans for the evening.

"How about I catch up with you in a little while," you said, "I'm going to go by the doughnut shop and get Kristin. I'll text you."

So you made your way down the hill and met your friend, Kristin, just outside the shop. You had texted last evening to arrange about going to the carnival.

She waved when she saw you and smiled. Her red hair was tied back, but her bangs still showed from under her green wool, long stocking cap. Her skin was pale and slightly freckled. Her eyes were a striking pale green. Her cheekbones were high and her smile created adorable dimples in her cheeks. She was wearing her black down coat and black wool pleated skirt.

You thought how pretty she looked and thought, as you often had, that it was strange you'd never seen her with a boyfriend. She was so witty and bright. She'd be a catch for anyone for sure.

She was going to school at the County College part time, working her way through. She lived in the small apartment above the doughnut shop here where she was the manager. The shop was popular with the college kids. That's how you'd met her.

You had liked each other right away and she had always been particularly fond of you. She walked toward you and you hugged.

"Up for some fun, baby?" She always called you baby.

"Oh yes. Let's go. I'm hungry and freezing." You locked arms, braving the frigid breeze as you strode down fourth street and round the corner, and over the bridge.

From the crest of the slightly arching bridge, the carnival came into view. It had a high wooden fence all around it and its gate, wide and tall, had an arching sign over it, "The Magical Winter Carnival." As you got closer, you could hear the barkers and laughter and the commotion inside. You could hear the sound of the carousel and a drum-roll and bang and the crowd cheer from the main tent.

Kristin laughed, "Human cannon ball?"

You smiled, "Maybe, Kris. Hey – tonight's my treat." And, coming to the gate, you bought your tickets at the ticket stand.

The sun was setting. Inside the carnival boundary was a different world. All lit up. Exciting. Colorful. Fun. The games and rides lined the crowded thoroughfares and the heat of all the people bustling and standing gawking at the sights and playing the games made it warmer there. You unzipped your coats as you walked.

You had arranged to meet your friends at one of the refreshment areas and, after you found them, you settled in to hot drinks – coffee and strong warm rum spiced cider – and conversation. You sat at the picknic table next to Kristin. There was no hurry. You figured you would all come back over the weekend and see the shows and play the games.

So you all laughed and drank and became quite loquacious and happy and a little loud and tipsy. Kristin snuggled up to you and you put your arm around her, talking carelessly with your friends.

She turned to you and nuzzled your ear and whispered. "Come on – I'm hungry for adventure. Let's go exploring."

You giggled and nodded and the two of you said your goodbyes. "See you guys tomorrow evening. Meet here? Great – it's a date! Goodbye."

Kisses on cheeks were exchanged. You and Kristin stepped out into the busy walkway full of children yelling and couples laughing. It was glorious.

There were colored lights all around strung from lamp-posts. It was still early, but it had become dark and the last heat of the day drained from the air. Still, you and Kristin, in your parkas and wool skirts and leggings were well insulated. You zipped up.

"Come on, let's go," Kristin said. So, the two of you, warmed by the liquor, giggled as you made your way, arm in arm, along the main walkways and then, turning off the beaten paths, made you way through the narrow, and narrower winding alleyways of trailers and smaller attractions.

You chatted and laughed together. You liked Kristin so much. It was a pleasure to have time alone, you had both been so busy. "Shujin's away until Monday. Why don't you come home and stay with me for the weekend."

"Oh, God, I'd love to," Kristin said and held you tighter.

You slowed as you came to the deepest part of the carnival boundary. There, at the very end of the way, was a trailer away from the others. It was painted with colorful, detailed pictures of countryside and towns far away. There was a lamp on a post in front. Here the lights that, all through the streets, alleys, and walkways of the Winter Carnival, had been many-colored had turned all incandescent white, but cast a soft, dimmed glow.

The trailer's windows were also glowing; from the inside. And, as you approached it, you could see that on the lamp post was hung a sign reading:

"Madame Fleurie

"Fortunes Told, Futures Read

"Pickwick, Potions, & Palmistry"

You giggled, "Pickwick?" Kristin didn't get it, but you looked at each other and smiled.

"Shall we?" asked Kristin.

"Of course we shall," you said. You put your hand on the old, brass doorknob and turned and opened the old wooden door and stepped up the steps and inside the trailer.

It was dim, but you could see the form of a woman with her back to the door, pouring water into a teapot.

"Come in, come in," she said, "And close the door, you're letting the wind in!" 

The interior of the trailer was warm and comfortable and lit primarily by candle-light. Its walls were hung with tapestries and there was a thick carpet on the floor. The beaded and bangled woman turned to you girls and smiled. "I've been expecting you. Tea, my lovelies?"

Her forest green dress was covered by an apron and a shawl tied around her waist. A scarf was around her neck and a bandanna was around her head over her white hair, braided down her back. 

"Take off your coats and stay for a little bit." She gestured toward a chaise-lounge by the wall among stacks of ancient books with leather bindings and colored boxes. 

You girls obliged, laying your parkas to the side. She handed you beautiful, old china cups of fragrant tea, each with a cookie on its saucer. And she sat with her own teacup on a plain, three-legged stool sort-of opposite you girls.

There was a large, old mirror opposite the chaise, and you could see your reflections. You caught your images in the glass and smiled. You were still mildly drunk, but, after your first sip of the tea, you were also surprisingly clear-headed.

Kristin said, "You've been expecting us?"

Madame Fleurie, swallowed her tea and said, matter-of-factly, "Of course. What can I do for you lovely young things tonight?"

You spoke right up. "How about telling out futures?"

Kristin said, "How about the cure for unrequited love?"

You thought this was an odd request, and you looked quizzically at Kristin. You thought it was probably the rum talking.

Suddenly thinking of me, you softly said, "How about the cure for unquenchable grief?"

Madame Fleurie leveled her gaze at you. "For you, lovely, life has taken its radical twists and turns. Part of the future, the basic part of your love relationship, is easy to see. It has its twists and turns too, but it is constant. Your man is devoted to you – and you and he will remain so. Other parts of your future are not so clear.

"But a cure for grief – unquenchable?" She studied you carefully. "You have deep grief in you, dear. For the ones you lost –" You gasped. "This can be mended in time. But it is not unquenchable, my little lovely. It would require skill to heal. But it is by no means unquenchable."

"I didn't mean for me. I mean for my – my Sir."

Madame Fleurie sat up straighter and closed her eyes. "He is deeply wounded. You have lightened his darkness, but he still falls into the shadows sometimes – when he is alone. He hides it from you. He needs your help."

You blurted, "Yes! Yes! You do see it! I want to help, but I don't know how. I love him sooo much. What can I do?"

Fleurie was watching Kristin. She turned back to you and spoke softly and kindly. "I will help you. But give me time to think about it. The Carnival will be here for a week. I'll have something before it ends – I promise you." She took your hands in hers, she turned them over, palms up and studied.

As she did so, she spoke to Kristin, "But your problem is of unrequited love? This can be tricky." And she looked her in the eyes. "Especially for you given the circumstances."

You glanced at Kristin. She looked slightly uncomfortable. You wondered why.

"No cure, right?"

"I didn't say that. I said it was tricky."

"OK, then – a love potion – a real one."

"Don't be silly, there's so such of a thing, Kris," you said, and giggled.

But Kristin and Madame Fleurie had locked eyes. Kristin was grinning defiantly.

The Madame smiled slowly – her voice was quiet and kind. She had completely dropped what little bit of a shallow, fake mask she wore for the benefit of her carnival trade and spoke earnestly, almost motherly "Yes, there is such a thing. But it's rare and not easily come by. Very few still know its secrets.

"A real potion requires time and special ingredients. But you don't really want such a potion," she said, looking intently at Kristin. "To use such a thing is dangerous. You never know what the outcome may be. And I think the object of your desire isn't available." She glanced at the silver ring you wore on your left hand fourth finger and nodded her head. Although you noticed it, its meaning was lost on you. But not on Kristin. And she blushed.

"Come on, Kris," you laughed, "That sounds ominous. I would just wish for a night to remember – naughty, perhaps, and sexy and romantic."

The Madame smiled at you. "That's a better idea – just something fun, girls. Safer. Much smarter."

But this was like a dare to Kristin. And she felt chagrined that her affection for you had been found out. She folded her arms and addressed Madame Fleurie, "You just don't want to show us – or maybe you can't really do it."

Fleurie shook her head patiently. "No, my lovely, I won't succumb to pride that easily. A real, true, indelible love potion is something I really do know how to make. And so also, I know how to make lesser potions – far less dangerous. But the price even for such a relatively trivial thing is high – although..." and it appeared as if she had gotten an idea.

She paused for a long time and studied Kristin. "I was young once – hard to believe, perhaps." She smiled. "And I am far, far older than you would imagine. I was rather like you when I was a young woman. I was drifting in my life. I didn't have focus or purpose."

You glanced at Kristin. Her jaw was set. Her face was a little red.

The Madame went on, "Then I met my teacher. And, reluctantly, I agreed to learn from her and my life changed forever." She chuckled. "But that was long, long ago, my lovely."

You were trying to lighten the mood and you blurted, "How long could that be? You don't look a day over... fifty?"

Madame Fleurie turned and beamed at you. "You darling child! Thank you."

"No – I mean it."

But Kristin's tone shifted to one of dawning awe. She slowly uncrossed her arms. She was seeing something in Fleurie's eyes. "No – no – you are much, much older, aren't you?" She paused and whispered. "A couple hundred years at least."

You laughed, "Oh come oooon, Kris."

Madame Fleurie had sat especially upright and seemed to be looking far into the distance. She said softly, "Yes. At least." She looked at Kristin. "I have been waiting."

You paused and said, quietly, "What have you been waiting for, Madame?"

She shifted and stood. Her white braid fell over her left shoulder. Her beads and bangles rattled and jangled as she took them off one by one. She undid the shawl around her waist and the apron. She took the silly bandanna off her head. And, straightening up, she stood there in her unadorned deep green velvet dress like an ancient forest queen. Small, but formidable.

It was as if you were seeing her in her real state. A wizened woman who had been masquerading as a carnival fortune teller. But you sensed deep mischief too. Like a current of slapstick humor. She was a little wicked. But in a harmless way. You knew she could wreak havoc, but you trusted her. You smiled. You just plain liked her.

She sighed and her eyes looked distant again, "I have been waiting for my last student. For a long time." She looked intently at Kristin. "For a very, very long time."

"Then I'll be your student for – for a week." Kristin had a slightly mocking tone, "A love potion, Madame. Teach me how to do it."

You were shocked at her irreverence.

But Madame Fleurie spoke softly and steadily.

"And if I gave you this potion, perhaps one that would last for – two days, do you imagine you could learn its secrets in a mere week? What would you do for it?"

You turned quickly to Kristin. You saw her looking into Madame Fleurie's eyes. Suddenly Kristin's eyes were filled with tears. "To see love in the eyes of the one I adore – even for just two days – I would do anything. I too have been waiting, but there's no hope. Still, to have my love returned, even for an hour, I would do anything."

You gasped. Who could this one be? You had no idea she was so in love with someone. Why hadn't she told you?

"Anything?" Fleurie smiled gently and lifted an eyebrow. "How tempting." She chuckled. She looked away. "No – well – I would not require anything of you that you can't afford."

She sat back down on the simple stool and took Kristin's hands in hers. She rotated them palms-up. And gazed. And studied. Then, with a look of wicked mischief in her smile, "Very well, lovely. I will give you both what you asked for."

It was Kristin's turn to gasp. 

Madame Fleurie walked to the door and locked it. She drew the inner, heavy drapes across the windows.

"But here is my price: You will return here to me in three days. You will bring with you something I need that you will gather according to my instruction. And you," she gestured at Kristin, "At that time, I will offer you an opportunity you will be glad for." She looked at Kristin, then at you, then back at Kristin. "Yes. I see no harm coming from what you asked for. Not in the period of two days. So that's what I'll give you. But after that – yes – you will be very glad for my offer, I think."

"Wait – I'm not sure I understand. You will give us what we asked for?" Kristin said quickly.

"Yes. For you, a love potion that lasts two days. And for you, for right now," she smiled at you, "'a night to remember – naughty and sexy and romantic.' For the longer run, you will return and we will work on your other wish."

"My wish?" you asked quietly.

"Yes," the Madame said softly, and she smiled, "the cure for your Master and, my little dear, because of your generosity of spirit, the cure also for the burden you carry."

Kristin glanced at you. The word "Master." How odd.

Your eyes welled up. You took the Madame's hands in yours. You bowed your head and began to weep. "Thank you," you whispered. "Don't worry about me – it's him – and he is my Master – my only, beloved One – yes just help me help him."

Fleurie placed her hands on your head. "My child, my child. There, there. All will be well. Are you sure it's what you want?"

You looked into her eyes and spoke with quiet earnestness. "Yes, Madame, whatever it takes."

The Madame placed her hands on your shoulders. "Even if there is danger for you?"

You didn't hesitate. "Of course."

The Madame turned to Kristin, who looked awed. "You see this? You understand what it means? This is what devotion looks like. So – for you – I will give you what you want as well, but you will need to return in three days with what I require – the something – the substance I need gathered exactly as I have specified. You need to both agree. You need to both say 'Yes'."

Kristin exclaimed, "Yes! Yes!" She grabbed your hand and squeezed, "Say yes, silly – say yes."

You said, "I don't know, Kris. I'll do whatever is required of me to help Shujin –" The Madame raised her eyebrows at the word. "And returning in three days isn't a problem," and you turned to Madame Fleurie, "She is impulsive. I'm worried for my friend. What is this substance? And how shall we get it for you?"

But Kristin would have none of that. She sounded desperate. She squeezed your hand harder. "Just say yes. Please. I'm so close. I want it so badly. I've wanted it for so long. Say yes. For me."

And so you said, impatiently, "Oh, very well, Yes. But I'm not even sure what I'm saying yes to – I mean on your behalf."

Madame Fleurie smiled at you and said, "I promise no harm will come to you. I will allay the danger for you." and she seemed to hesitate, but then she chuckled, "Oh, very well, Yes." She clapped her hands once, twice, three times.

And the world shifted.

You felt strange – as if you were dreaming.




Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 35



Fleurie said, "The substance I need must be gathered in a particular way. For you, my lovely," and she looked at you, "Gathering it will, I dare say, be fun and probably easy. For you," and she looked at Kristin, "It will be a challenge and may rely on the very great generosity of your companion here." She turned and rummaged around in a drawer in a chest and came out with a small gold talisman on a gold chain. She slipped it over her neck. "This may come in handy, my lovely."

You wanted to ask what it was, but you didn't seem to be able to form the words. But you heard Kristin asking, "What does it do?"

"It carries a simple charm. It makes the wearer appear like someone else. You can take on someone else's appearance by applying a bit of that person to the talisman. Sweat will work. So would other bits – hair – or, even more potent would be – some bodily fluid." and she chuckled.

"Why would I want to appear like someone else?" Kristin asked.

"All in good time, my lovely. All in good time."

She smiled at Kristin. Then Kristin smiled back. They had the same mischievous look in their eyes and you thought how kindred they were.

Then something seemed to occur to Kristin and she said, wryly, "Quoting the Wicked Witch is a little hokey, don't you think?"

Fleurie parried, "Who do you think was the subject matter expert working with Langley, Ryerson, and Woolf on the Oz script?"

"You mean..."

"Yup – 'Melting... my beautiful wickedness, gone, gone' etcetera. All me."

The two of them cracked up as you watched. You smiled broadly. You wanted to giggle, but you didn't seem to be able to make a sound.

Kristin looked at you. "Hey, you OK?"

You considered this for a second and nodded your head, smiling again. You felt warm and pleased. "Yes," you said simply and smiled warmly.

"She's just fine. I promised no harm would come to her and none will. She is happy and safe. She is in a particularly pliant state. She will do anything you ask – as long as she perceives it as safe. And she will only tell the truth. In a sense, she is yours right now already. That carries great responsibility."

You saw the expression on Kristin's face change slightly. She was awed. She looked at you. "I'm being selfish."

"Yes, you are," said the Madame.

"But I want this. I can't help myself." You saw a kind of longing and hunger in Kristin's expression.

Fleurie sighed, "Yes, I know, lovely. You are very young. The very young don't always know what best for themselves."

Kristin turned to you and you looked into each other's eyes. "Darling," she said, and took your hand in hers, "Will you please go on this adventure with me? Pretty please?"

You smiled at Kristin. "Yes, Kristin, I will."

Kristin looked down. She whispered. "Thank you. It's only for two days."

You wondered what she meant, but you smiled and, with some effort to exert your will, you reached out and touched her cheek. Something was clearly deeply moving her. She seemed to be in conflict. You kind-of felt sorry for her. You wanted her to be happy.

She looked back up at you. Then, it was as if you came to an inner agreement – unspoken, but mutually sensed. Yes, you were in it together now and you would enjoy the ride.

The Madame sensed the agreement too, and she slowly shook her head. "Very well, then. Let us begin. For the first part of the adventure, you need to strip down, my lovelies. Go on – help each other out while I prepare things a bit." And she undid the ribbon that had tied Kristin's hair back.

So you stood facing each other, unbuttoning each others' blouses. Kristin undid your skirt and it fell to the floor and you slid her skirt down her legs. To do so, you bent down in front of her and as your face came close to her crotch, you could smell her wonderfully fragrant excitement. Your own pussy gushed and you gasped. Kristin stepped out and, as you stood again, she slid her hands under your opened blouse, undoing your bra. You returned the favor and soon, the two of you sat down again side by side on the chaise with you nipples hardening in the trailer's atmosphere, even though it was comfortably warm.

You were struck by how pretty Kristin was. Her long, straight red hair fell down over her shoulders. Her breasts were larger than yours, but not big. You thought they looked perfect and you wondered why you hadn't noticed them before.

"Such good children," the Madame said as she turned back, carrying two little cloth parcels. "You are lovely, darlings. Soon, I will give you naughty little girls the first part of what I promised – the beginning of a wonderful night to remember. Then I'll send you home to enjoy the rest of it together. After that – well – we'll talk all about that before I send you home tonight." And she nearly cackled.

"Now – lean back and scoot you pretty little tushies forward. It is, of course, too late to reconsider now." She shot you both a wicked grin.

You realized she was right. You couldn't have said no if you wanted to. But you smiled. You didn't want to say no. You looked up at Madame Fleurie, smiling. And she smiled back. "Yes, little dear, it's too late now – but you will come to no harm, I promise. Nothing that a long day's sleep won't fix – although – you may find some things a little changed. But then, you will be back in a couple days to complete our bargain and I'll take care of that – if you decide you want me to."

"And you," she looked at Kristin. This will all require much more of you. To begin with, now, a great deal of self control. Come on, now, scoot forward."

And so you and Kristin obediently shifted on the chaise so you were reclining slightly back against the thick pillows behind you and your butts were right on its front edge. You wondered what she had meant as she knelt in front of you and reached up to your waist. "Lift, dear," she said and, to your slight astonishment, you obeyed, lifting your hips off the chaise so she could pull your panties and leggings down, and off. It was astonishing because you had thoughtlessly obeyed her. It was pleasant to obey. It felt good and right to obey. Kristin, sitting beside you was next. She glanced at you first and smiled a little, then she too, lifted her hips as her underthings were slid down her legs and off.

Fleurie came back to you and adjusted your legs so they were parted quite wide and your pussy lips were exposed. Then it was Kristin's turn.

Looking down over your belly you could see a great mirror opposite and you could see both your pussies clearly, your legs spread open. The sight was lascivious.

You thought to yourself that Kristin had such a pretty pussy. The Madame slid the mirror closer to your knees. And, as if she had read your mind, "See how pretty you are?"

Kristin's pussy lips were creamy white and were fuller than yours. They were parted slightly, and wet in between, and as the Madame spread Kristin's legs wider, it revealed her delicious inner lips – pinker and so delicate, and shiny-wet. The hood of her clitoris was shifted up slightly and her sweet little clitty was peeking out. Above her darling mound was a growth of fine, red hair the slightest hint of which extended down the very top insides of her legs, the flesh of the insides of her thighs was so inviting, pale, and firm.

In contrast, your lips were a light-chocolate color. They were small and, stretched apart. Your inner lips were plainly visible and your clitoris was extended. You had shaved your hair and you legs were far more muscular – you had taken this year off from the fencing team, but you still practiced regularly enough to maintain your basic skills.

You were familiar with your own reflection. You liked to watch yourself when we made love. And you liked the way you looked now. Your cunny was very wet. You smiled.

In the mirror, you could see Kristin looking at you. She was drinking in the view. You turned to her and she turned to you and said, "You OK, baby?"

You nodded. "Yes, Kris."

Kristin held your hand as Madame Fleurie, having put on her coat, placed the two little parcels on your navels.

She looked at Kristin intently. "I'm going out for a walk now. Maybe I'll get some food – yes – I'm hungry." She chuckled to herself. "This part of the 'adventure' is for you two alone. I'll be back. But, dear,"

"Yes, Madame."

"Your companion has the advantage of her altered state. In your case, you will need to willingly stay still and 'just go' with the experience. I promise you it will be a very pleasant one, but it will seem strange at times and you must not make any attempt to stop it." She paused and repeated herself commandingly. "You – must – not – try to stop it." Then she shrugged. "It's far too late for that now. Do you understand?"

Kristin's eyes widened. "Yes, Madame."

Madame Fleurie smiled and leaned over and fiddled with Kristin's long, straight red hair. She kissed Kristin's forehead. Taking Kristin's chin in her hand she said, "There's hope for you yet, child." And she stood back up.

She blew out all the candles except for the ones that cast light on your naked bodies. She left the trailer. You could hear her locking the door behind her.

The winter wind blew and shook the trailer. Kristin squeezed your hand. "Maybe this is a big mistake," she said. She looked at you. "You see – I've been holding a secret. I – I – it's that I..."

But her words trailed off and she looked down at the parcel on her navel. Then you felt it too. An odd – itch. Not unpleasant. Just really – odd. You looked down at your parcel. Did it move?

You looked at your reflections. You could see your legs spread wide open, your pussies completely exposed. You two looked so naughty and sexy. It was exciting. And there, on your bellies, right on your navels were the parcels.

You hadn't focused on them before, but you could see they were like little bundles of cloth, gathered together at the top. The cloth was subtly colorful deep reds and browns and greens with a bright, almost luminescent yellow stripe.

It was definitely itching you in and odd way. More like tingling, really.

In the reflection, Kristin looked at you. "Do you feel it too, baby?"

"Yes, Kris."

"You OK?"

"Yes..." and you saw her parcel move. She gasped. She held your hand tighter. Then you saw yours move too.

The parcels were slowly and very slightly undulating. It was most certainly tingling now and the tingling was spreading all around it. Up into your diaphragm and down your belly. And inside too, not just on the surface of your skin. It was surprising, but really, when you thought about it, very nice. It had a warmth to it. And – and what? Yes – a kind of erotic fire.

Kristin said, "Oh! Oh!" Her eyes were wide. She turned to you again. "It's – it's really – " she squeezed your hand. "It feels really – and she shuddered – good."

Suddenly the tingling grew in intensity. It turned to a deep and sensual heat. You shivered too and gasped. The sensation quickly spread up through your chest and neck and down your legs. Your breasts felt suddenly slightly swollen – and, when you looked in the mirror, you thought that both your and Kristin's breasts did, indeed, look bigger. Your nipples were very erect. Kristin's lovely pink nipples were standing out.

You looked down at your pussies in the reflection. Even your pussies looked more voluptuous. Her lips looked even more full and yours – yours had a fullness and womanly shape they hadn't had just a minute ago. And your inner lips protruded slightly and you cunny looked – how to put it – hungry.

Both your pussies were wet. Kristin's cunny was more closed, yours was slightly opened. You wondered if Kristin was a virgin even though she was older than you. Yes, you thought, it must be so.

Kristin moaned softly. Yes, you felt it too. It was a delicious turn-on. You were very aroused. She squeezed your hand. "Oh, my! Oh, Little Baby, it's wonderful." You liked how she was calling you her little baby. Particularly in the context of being so aroused, it was especially nice somehow.

The little parcels still undulated slowly and, as you watched your own, the yellow stripe, glowing more strongly, seemed to be – what – was it slightly writhing? Yes. It was. And the colored pattern in the fabric seemed to organize itself around the writhing stripe. It looked almost like there was a coil of rope inside the parcel that was undulating and writhing. But now – no – the parcel itself seemed to be a little pile of undulating rope with the stripe along its length.

The sexual excitement continued to grow.

Kristin moaned again, louder. And you heard yourself moan too. You looked at her face in the mirror. She was watching your pussy. You looked at hers, it was dripping wet, just like yours. She was so enthralled by your pussy; wet, open – that she didn't notice the transformation right away. But then she did. And she gripped your hand.

The little piles of writhing rope that sat on your navels had changed again. They had taken on the form of little, long creatures. Snake-like things. And they began to uncoil themselves. Yes – and now they had noses and eyes and little flicking tongues. The luminescent stripes down their back seemed to glow more brightly. They slithered up over your breasts, coiling around your nipples and squeezing.

Kristin squealed – half from fear and half from pleasure.

Your breasts felt even larger. How could that be? But yes. And – full. Full?

Now you look over at Kristin. Yes, her breasts are obviously much larger. They lie against her chest, sagging in new way. And her snake wraps itself around her right breast – the one closest to you and squeezes. You feel your own snake squeeze you too. And Kristin's snake nuzzles her nipple. And yours nuzzles you. As you look down at your snake, you see its head draw back and open its mouth, ready to strike.

Lightning fast, your snake darts forward, opening its mouth, its little teeth bared. It latches onto your nipple and you feel a new sensation. Kristin moans loudly. You look at her face, then at her snake. You see it sucking her and milking her breast with its body, squeezing and undulating.

Your breast is being milked too and you feel a hot liquid begin to flow through your nipple into the snake's mouth.

There is an accompanying acute sexual excitement, and, inexplicably, a wave of affection for the snake. You close your eyes. You lose yourself in the moment. The snake is your darling thing.

Kristin squeezes your hand again, and you open your eyes to look at her. She is smiling warmly. "Oh, baby girl. It's wonderful. Is it good, baby?"

"Yes, Kris. So, so good."

Kristin is squirming slightly and you realized you are too. You look at your snake as it disconnects from your nipple. The snake looks like it's grown a little larger. You feel it move to your other breast. Another squeeze, another strike. A slight bite this time. You nearly come. And it sucks hard and you feel your breast yielding the hot liquid again. And you close your eyes and drift. So sweet. So, so sweet.

You feel your femininity in a new, strong way. You are part of the earth, part of the cycle of life. You are a woman. Your little darling is sucking you with determination. You can't help but love it. You open your eyes and looked at it.

The creature slows and detaches. You feel it gradually release its grip of your breast. It raises its head and looks you in the eye. It blinks and with a flick of its tongue, moves down your belly where it coils up on your navel. You think it is completely adorable.

In the mirror, you see Kristin's still sucking. You can see it swallowing, taking its fill. And you see an expression of complete bliss on Kristin's face. She looks over at you, dreamy-eyed. "Thank you, baby girl. Thank you for doing this with me. This is wonderful. It's kinda weird, but it's amazingly wonderful."

Her snake lets go of her and slowly slithers down her belly. But it doesn't coil. And yours is on the move, too – lower. You look in the mirror. You see it leaning over your pubis and nuzzling the top of your pussy lips, gently stroking your clitoris with its nose. You draw in your breath sharply. It is delicious. But you see its head lift again. You feel it strike. It has bitten your clitoris with its prickly little teeth and it is sucking it perfectly. You nearly scream in pleasure.

Kristin is watching you. She doesn't even notice her own thing rearing back. Then hers strikes. She exclaims, "Oh! Oh my God!" And she writhes as the little serpent sucks and bites her most tender spot. She instinctively spreads her legs wider in her pleasure and then, as she squirms, you both watch in the mirror as the strange creature detaches and slides it's head into her cunny.

She gasps and moans. Her eyes are wide and disbelieving. It is teasing her cunny open. The snake is little bigger around than your thumb, but she seems to be very tight and it is working her open with its head. It is teasing her and wetting her. It withdraws and bites her clitoris again, sucking it and tickling her pussy lips with its body.

She screams in raw pleasure and it pushes more assertively into her cunny and her virgin flesh yields just a little bit. The snake rolls and squirms deeper in. It is slick now, and slippery, stretching her open. She gasps and gapes, her eyes unblinking, watching the unimaginable. But it feels so good! She is panting as it slowly works its way in.

She arches and squirms at it slowly takes her. To her amazement, there is no resistance from her hymen even though the creature finally disappears inside her. "Oh my God! Oh my God! It's – it's – so – goooood." She shrieks. "Oh! Nnnnnnggg. It's fucking me. It's – fucking – me. It's incredible."

She begins to writhe rhythmically while you watch. "Oh yeeeesssss. My little baby. Yeeeeesssss. I'm – I'm going to come – come sooooooo haaaarddd!"

On cue your snake slithers directly down your pussy and slips inside easily. You watch it slide in.

There is an incredible sexual energy that flows through your loins and abdomen. It is hot and female, but more than that, it is full and womanly. At first you can feel the creature moving inside you. Yes, yes – it is fucking you. But very soon, the specific sense of it seems to disappear – it is taking no space inside you.

Then, in a rush of heat and flame and unbridled sexual power, you both arch back. And then you both come. You come together, holding hands, gripping each other so tight. The orgasm is unique. It is deep and full and feels like you are part of a huge feminine entity. As if you are joined with a goddess of female-hood.

It is wonderful. You are lifted. Wave after wave. Moaning and mewing together. It is like having sex – like being fucked from the inside, but by womanhood itself. You writhe. You both undulate and squirm with a lovely feline fluidity. Your hips sway and roll. You spread your legs wide open, taking pleasure in the lewd display.

You are working your bodies into a frenzy. And you are watching in the mirror. Wild and free. Your hearts pounding. Gasping for breath. You moan louder. You are almost there... and now, you climax again, and you scream.

Kristin cries out: "Oh God! Ohhh Ohhh Gooooddd!" And you see Kristin clamp her legs shut and squeeze. You try it too. Yes – as hard as you can. That feels just right. It feels so good. So very good.

You both slowly touch down. Back to earth. Holding hands. Beads of sweat on your beautiful naked bodies. You lie next to each other – smiling at each other.

Kristin squeezes your hand. "Thank you, baby. That was strange, but wonderful. I – I need to tell you something. But perhaps it better wait for a little while."

She suddenly rolls over and kisses you on your mouth. It is a tender lingering kiss. You find yourself returning it and you feel a lovely stirring of arousal. You are still dreamy. You are content. You don't wonder what will come next.




Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 35



You put your arms around her as her tongue enters your mouth.



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 36



Good Girl

You were waiting.

It was delicious.

Restrained in a nearly upright position, your legs were spread open with your knees up -- tied at the ankles, strapped at the knees. Your arms were bound above you. Your butt was near the edge of the bed so that your wet cunny and your ass were exposed and available. Your nipples were pinched by your pretty pink clamps. The ones with the little bells that tinkled as you breathed irregularly in your excitement.

Your clitoris throbbed perfectly. With every slight movement, even your breath, the clitoris clamp bit into your most tender place -- you knew its little teeth would not break the skin, but it pinched and smarted. Oddly, the image of a snake's mouth nipping and sucking you lept to your mind. You shuddered. You were on the edge of orgasm.

And you were waiting.

You had been anticipating my arrival home all day. You could barely concentrate in your Friday classes. Even before school this morning you had planned dinner with Louise and Margaret. You had wanted something special -- a surprise. 

"What shall it be, Margaret?"

"Little Miss, he'll be tired from his travels. Perhaps something light."

"He loves Margaret's Caesar Salad," said Louise.

"Oh yes! The one you make from scratch," you agreed.

Margaret suggested, "And how about Louise's scallops over angel hair?"

"That would be perfect." You paused, "But what shall I make?"

Louise smiled wickedly, "But, Little Miss, you'll supply desert."

At first you missed her point, "Yes. I could make us chocolate sundaes."

Margaret giggled. Louise was smiling broadly. Then you got it and you laughed. "You're so bad! You mean I'm to BE desert. Well -- I suppose I will be. But after a sundae -- I want ice cream."

You all had laughed. You had blushed.

And so today you made your way through classes and had rushed home from school through the frigid February streets. The winter afternoon sun was already low. As you walked through the front gate, you stopped for a moment to admire the old manse. The house's Christmas lights were still up, decorating the expansive front porch -- and there was an electric candle in every window. Yes -- the place was Rockwellian.

Coming in the tall walnut front door, you had tossed your coat and backpack on the bench in the front hall and fiddled with your hair, looking in the tall mirror. You smiled. "I wonder how many of this home's women have fixed their hair, looking in this mirror on their way out and coming in." You looked up at the small chandelier and the ceiling beyond, twice your height above you.

In the mirror, you gazed at the reflected stained glass window above the bench on the wall behind you. There, an angel was depicted, lovely, smiling down at you. "We love this house, don't we, Angel. And we love Him. You watched him grow up here, didn't you? You've watched him coming and going. You know his secrets. And now I'm here. And so you're watching over me too."

You smiled. You kicked off your boots, turned, and ran to the kitchen.

"I'm home, I'm home." Miss Brooks had leaped up, barking and wagging her tail.

You threw yourself into your chair at the table. Louise brought you a scone and poured you a cup of tea. You fidgeted, "When does He get here..." It was a rhetorical question. You knew the answer: eight, or thereabouts. You sipped your tea, nibbled your scone. Louise and Margaret's voices faded into the background as you thought about the day I'd left.

I'd driven us to our favorite little restaurant for breakfast. We'd laughed and flirted openly. You had squirmed in your seat, feeling my warm seed dribbling from your pussy -- making your panties soaked as you ordered your veggie omelet. After we'd eaten, you reached across the table and held my hand and we sat, talking until it was time for us to go -- the very young lady and the older gentleman -- obviously lovers -- and obviously devoted.

"Little Miss?" Louise was offering her hand, and you emerged from your daydream. You looked up.

"Oh! -- Yes. I'm sorry."

Louise smiled, "Come on. Let's get you ready. I'll draw your bath and we can play dress-up." She had laughed warmly and you had taken her hand and grinned.

"Thank you. You are very kind to me. And very indulgent. Thank you both." Suddenly you were tearful. You stood up. "He WILL come home, right?"

Louise hugged you, "Of course he will," and Margaret joined in. "Group hug," Margaret declared. Miss Brooks barked and growled expressively at you three, and you all laughed.

"She wants to be part of the hug." You picked up Miss Brooks and cuddled her. "I miss him so badly when he's away and I -- I worry -- sometimes -- you never really know."

"You are little more than a girl, Miss. And he's a very grown man with a history here --"

Suddenly you wondered, "You know, I was so busy when you two got here before Christmas, that I didn't ask... how do you know Him?"

"Come on," Louise smiled, "Walk and talk." You put Miss Brooks down and she scampered off to her food bowl as Louise led you by the hand up the old servant's staircase -- the one you used when you first rented that room in my house.

"We came here years ago, Little Miss. Just before... well -- and then afterward too -- we kept house for him. But then we got an opportunity to visit with our family in France these last couple years. We called him when we were heading back to the States and he said he was delighted for us to come here again. He said there was a young lady living here who would need some care too."

At the top of the steps, you two walked along past the servant's quarters and turned toward the door to the main hallway.

"But then, you know him well!" you said, "But of course. That explains a lot. I've been so busy I hadn't even though about how natural you two are here. Oh, now I do feel a little like a fool. I'm sorry, Louise, I'm the interloper here."

"No. No. Not at all. You have brought light back to this house. We haven't seen him so happy since -- well -- years before. You are no interloper at all. You belong here. We're so happy for him. And, of course, for you."

You walked together along the hallway, still holding hands. On either side, there were the tall doors to other bedrooms. And on the walls were the family portraits. There was obviously room for more. In fact, now that you really considered it, it was as if there were a couple missing.

You stopped and squeezed Louise's hand. "I haven't thought about a lot of things, I guess. Like these other rooms. And the whole third floor." You had stopped in front of one of the tall doors along the hallway. You reached out your hand to its door handle. It didn't budge. You looked up at the crown of the door and thought, "Hmmm -- locked."

"Come on, Little Miss," you thought you detected slight discomfort in Louise's manner. "Let's get you ready for your lovely evening."

You smiled and followed Louise's gentle pull away. Soon you were immersed in the hot bath she had drawn. Your clothes were picked out and lying on your bed -- some of your wonderfully naughty underthings and your red dress. You had chosen out your Lise Charmel black bra and panties and garter belt with the real silk stockings thinking "This'll do the trick. I can't wait to have him."

After your bath you had donned your lingerie and lounged in your robe, sitting on the window-seat looking out over the darkening magical back yard with its snow-laden extensive garden. You talked to your friend Kristin on the phone, you texted with your friends, you read a bit of the erotic novel, "La Belle Amie" on your Kindle.

You slipped your hand over the exquisite silk of the black bra you were wearing. You felt your nipples stiffen. You gently caressed your belly and sent your fingers down over your panties. You sighed. "God, I can't wait to feel him touch me. It's bee too long." You slid your fingers inside. Your pussy lips were soft and warm and it felt so good to play, dipping your finger in-between and stroking your wet clitoris.

You had spread your legs a bit and closed your eyes. You remembered the day I left, watching the head of my cock spread your pussy lips open as it pushed into you. I had arranged a video camera so you could watch -- projected the image on a large screen -- you pussy wet and shining as my cock entered you. "You do like to watch, don't you?" you thought to yourself.

My cock was shiny from your wetness and you had watched it sliding in and out as I fucked you. "That's my good Little Girl." I had said wickedly. "You won't ever forget how good I feel, will you, stretching you when I take you? You won't ever forget what it looks like -- my cock in your pretty cunt. You won't ever forget that I was your first -- the first to come in you."

There was a rap at the door. "Yes, please," you answered as you quickly withdrew your hand.

The door cracked open, "He's almost here, Little Miss."

"Oh! Margaret, would you please help me with my dress?" You leaped up, throwing your Kindle on the bench cushion and untying your robe's belt.

You pulled on your red dress and Margaret zipped you up and put finishing touches on your hair. The last bit was lipstick and perfume -- a color that accentuated your mouth, but didn't scream "fuck me" and a fragrance you knew I found nearly irresistible -- the rare "My Sin" Lynn had given you for Christmas -- behind your ears and above your breasts and (even with Margaret watching as you lifted your dress) a little bit on the inside of your legs above the top hem of the stocking -- right up by you pussy.

Margaret and you had both giggled and had run down the hall. You could feel the thick rugs on your feet and it wasn't until you got halfway down the stairs that you realized you'd forgotten to put on your shoes. You stopped. You could hear the big front door opening and Louise talking. Then my voice.

Margaret, steps below you, turned, "What is it?"

"No shoes," you blurted. You were on the verge of tears.

"I don't think it matters, Little Miss."

"No -- I have to be perfect. I have to be perfect or they don't come home."

You turned to go back up, but then you heard my voice again. "Thank you so much, Louise -- yes perhaps coffee. I'm tired, but I don't want to be unconscious for the evening." And you heard my gentle laugh.

Margaret was looking at you quizzically. "Come on, Little Miss. You are already perfect." So you slowly turned again and came down until you stood, frozen, on the third stair up.

Margaret was crossing the floor to take my messenger case. Louise was holding my hat. I was taking off my gloves. I looked up. Our eyes met.

I beheld you. You were standing, elevated, in your stockinged feet, your hair falling carelessly in tight curls over your shoulders. Your light chocolate skin warmed the light as it was reflected, the soft line of your jaw and your neck and shoulders were framed by the bold red dress you had chosen. And the fabric of the dress revealed the lovely shape of your breasts and waist and hinted at your hips as it flared and fell to just below your knees.

I found your lack of shoes particularly charming. Always it is as if I see you for the first time -- and fall in love more deeply.

Your arms were down and slightly out -- your fingers were curled into fists. You were shifting from one foot to the other. You had a stunned expression on your face.

You saw me unbuttoning my coat as I walked toward you, breaking into a smile. "There's my girl."

You couldn't form words. You gasped and moaned softly. You extended your arms and stiffly stepped down another stair. You were opening and closing your hands.

Then you were in my arms with yours wrapped around my neck. My coat was open and around you. You lifted yourself and wrapped your legs around my waist. And you burst into tears.

You were shaking. You had wailed -- there was a tinge of anger and frustration in your cry. You had gasped and buried your face in my neck and sobbed -- releasing your emotion. "You -- you ca -- came h -- home."

"Yes, my Little Love. Of course I came home."

"People d -- don't always come h -- home. Sometimes things h -- happen."

I held you strongly. I took a deep breath and looked up at the paneled ceiling high above us. Yes. Now it was finally coming out -- we had both lost those we love most -- our families. I knew that in this moment I was not holding a young woman, I was holding a terribly frightened little girl. I knew it had happened about this time of year seven years ago.

"Yes, that's true, Konekochan. I know, Baby Girl. It must have been horrible when -- they didn't come home."

You squealed and held me tighter. "How did you know?" You cried out. "How did you know?" You felt Margaret's hand on your back.

I said softly, "It doesn't matter, Koneko. All that matters now is that you are here and I am here and we will always be here. I came home. I will always come home. And so will you."

"Promise."

"I promise."

You had sobbed with abandon. Margaret said, "We kept a close watch on her, Sir, just like you instructed."

"I'm sure you did."

Louise said, "Why not bring her in by the fire? You can sit and we'll bring her tea and your coffee."

"Good idea. And Miss Brooks."

"Of course, Sir."

I had carried you to the large couch by the living-room's huge fireplace. The fire was blazing. You unwrapped yourself from me and stood down.

Your eyes were red, your mascara was smeared. It managed to only make you more lovely. I handed you my handkerchief and, taking off my coat, I gave the heavy wool garment to Margaret. "Thank you, Maggie. Would you please bring us a bottle of that Pinot Noir she likes so much? San Pellegrino for me -- let's have juice glasses, home style -- four glasses, please."

"Yes, Sir."

Louise returned with a Pendleton blanket. We sat you down and she tucked you in. Miss Brooks came clicking across the parquet from the kitchen door. "Water's on the boil for tea. We'll have your coffee soon, Sir."

As Miss Brooks jumped into your lap, Louise sat next to you and put her arm around your shoulders. She took my handkerchief and daubed your eyes. 

Margaret returned with a tray. Carl, the driver and groundskeeper, came in from the kitchen carrying my guitar cases. 

"Thank you, Carl. Come on, now." I poured a glass of the wine for you. And handed one to Carl who stood by the piano. Margaret poured wine for Louise and herself.

I sat down in the chair to your side. You were looking down into your glass. The cut crystal of the juice glass sparkled in the firelight and tiny ripples arced across the deep red wine's surface. "Thank you." You said.

Louise squeezed your shoulders and kissed your temple.

You had looked up at the four of us. Miss Brooks had snuggled into your lap and you scratched her behind her ears. "I'm sorry I was such a mess," you said.

Margaret said, "Please, it's OK now, Little Miss."

Tears sprung to your eyes again. "Thank you all so much. I don't know what's come over me. I'm usually OK."

Louise said, "We know, Miss."

"No -- you don't know -- not this."

Margaret spoke softly, "Yes, Little Miss, we do know. We know about it."

You looked back down at your glass. "But how?"

Carl had cleared his throat and spoken softly. "Was me, Miss."

You looked up. "Just odd chance. My sister. In Baltimore. Visiting seven years ago. I read about it. The paper. Your picture, Miss. You were just little. When I saw you here I remembered."

"He mentioned it to me, Dear." Louise said. "And I looked up the article and showed Margaret. But when we showed it to Sir, he said he already knew."

You quickly looked at me. "You -- you knew?" You sighed and looked down again and nodded. "I thought you might, Shujin."

You stood up and sat on my lap. You put your head on my shoulder.

"That's enough for now," said Louise. She looked at Margaret and Carl, "Come on, you two. Let's get supper ready."

Soon we were alone. You nuzzled my neck and said, quietly, "I'm sorry, Sir. I'm sorry I lost it."

"There is nothing to be sorry for, Little Girl. We'll find a better way to do this. Maybe you can come with me next time."

"I'd like that."

Your mouth had found mine. It was a tender, lingering kiss. You had unconsciously squirmed on my lap in your sudden excitement and it had the predictable effect on me.

You got up and grasped my hand, leading me to the dining table. You pulled out my chair for me but Louise intercepted you and took you aside. "Let's fix you up a bit, Little Miss."

When you had returned, your hair was all done-up and your makeup was re-applied -- a little more grown-up and evening-appropriate -- Louise's French sensibility -- I had smiled.

Carl and I had been talking. He was smiling, finishing his thought. "Thank you. That's great. She'll be so happy. And me too. Thank you." He stood and shook your hand.

"You are very welcome. I'm delighted, Carl. Darling," I turned to you, "Carl's daughter is going to come and live with him in the carriage house. She'll go to school here -- what -- sixth grade?"

"Seventh, Sir."

"Oh!" you clapped your hands, "I can help her with her homework!"

Carl smiled broadly. "Thank you, Miss."

So dinner was served. The salad was wonderful. The scallops were perfect. Louise had brought you Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio (your favorite white) and a stemmed glass.

You drank freely. I didn't slow you. I figured you could use a little release. You laughed and flirted. You were lovely and bright. You giggled at my jokes. You indulged me by giving your rapt attention when I told my boring stories about old adventures -- and new ones. 

After your third glass, you had asked Louise for champagne and seeing my nod, she smiled and took away the Pinot Grigio and replacing it with White Star and a champagne flute. You stood up shakily and grabbed the bottle and your glass and smiled at me wickedly. "Come on, Daddy. Ready for desert?"

Louise giggled and winked at me. "But what about the chocolate sundae, Little Miss?"

"Oh! Yes! Oh! Could you make the sundaes for me?"

"It's already done, Little Miss. Margaret will bring them up."

You giggled and said to me, "Come on, I'll race you." You trotted off toward the stairs, and when you heard my footfalls behind you, you squealed and laughed and sped up the marble steps. You ran down the hall to my bedroom -- our bedroom -- and around the corner and flopped down in the high-backed chair, pouring the champagne and guzzling it as I came through the door.

You had put the bottle and glass on the small table there and leaped into my arms, kissing me furiously. You started to undo my tie as Margaret came in with our sundaes and a bowl of strawberries. She set the tray on the table and closed the door as she left. 

You had been hot and eager and you unceremoniously pulled off your dress. You were stunningly beautiful. Your shape -- young and fit and your legs, still somewhat particularly muscular from fencing -- was accentuated by the lingerie. You stepped to me, unbuttoning my shirt -- you took off my belt.

You had turned, filling your glass with champagne. You had watched with curiosity as I produced two heavy wooden bars that matched the bed-frame and installed them vertically spanning the distance from the canopy rail to the larger bed-rail below. They seemed to hook into the bed at about a three-foot distance from each other.

I took your glass from you and gathered you in my arms.

"Good Girl," I had said. I slid my hand down your belly, into your panties and played with your pussy. "Good Little Pet."

You had been so aroused that you nearly came just from my praise.

Then I had been rough. I had seemed eager; impatient. I lifted you onto the bed between the special posts. You had been surprised at my strength as I tied your arms up above you, hanging from the canopy frame. I had kissed you hard and deep.




Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 36



I caressed the silk of your lacy black push-up and slid my fingers under the fabric, feeling the wonderful softness of your small but perfectly shaped breasts. My strong, warm hands pinched your nipples hard and you squealed. I reached around in back of you and unfastened the hooks. The bra fell away and I quickly took your nipples in my mouth -- first one, then the other-- and sucked roughly and hard. Then I fastened the clamps, jingling naughtily. You had, of course, yielded without resistance; submitting to me appropriately.

I had positioned pillows behind you so when you leaned back you were in an almost upright sitting position. I smiled. I was pleased. And you smiled back at me.

You had gasped that way you do as I slid your panties down and off your silk clad legs and spread you open, sliding my hands up their insides, pushing them apart, exposing you. The feel of my warm hands sliding up the silk, over the stockings' top edge, and coming to rest just there on either side of your pussy lips had been exquisite.

I parted your lips. I bent over to kiss your pussy and you felt my hot breath tickling you just before my lips caressed your flesh. My tongue found your clitoris. I sucked it.

You had gushed. Standing up, I had bound your legs to the posts just right, wide, wide open -- apart and up, so that the lips of your pussy were also spread, and your clitoris, quickly swollen and extended, presented its self. And I slid the nasty clamp onto it -- and it bit you -- and you squealed and creamed profusely.

You were a vision of lasciviousness. Your arms up over your head. You legs spread wide. I wanted you to see. So I slid the big old standing mirror over. "See how pretty?"

You were indeed lewdly pretty. The seams up the backs of the stockings beautifully accentuated the lines of your legs and the sight of your own cunny so exposed made you all the more excited. Your beautiful softly curvaceous breasts, nipples clamped, you lovely face framed by your open legs, your arms high over your head -- you were starkly aware of your beauty and vulnerability.

"Now, be a good girl and wait."

"Yes Sir."

So I had left you there, the clamps throbbing, you body opened. Time passed. You heard me showering. Strangely, you dozed off. Bizarre, sexy dreams -- almost real. Your friend, Kristin kissing you.

Now my voice pulls you back. "You are so beautiful, my darling Pet."

You feel me caressing and squeezing your breasts. The naughty bells tinkle. You wake up slowly as I run my hands down your belly and stroke your legs, spread open. You feel the sting of the clamp on your clitoris.

I am in my robe. It is open. You can see my cock, erect, pulsing.

You watch as I pour you a small glass of liquor from a strange, old green bottle. I hold it to your lips and you drink it down as I tip it. "That's it, baby, the whole thing. Just some herbs a friend sent me from the Amazon. You'll want to be wide awake, Little Love."

The taste is sweet and bitter like a dark root-beer. Immediately, you feet a rush of energy course through you. You are indeed wide awake but, simultaneously, you still feel the effects of the champagne. It is incendiary. You laugh. You squirm in your restraints. The tinkle of the bells on your nipple clamps -- the nasty bite on your tender, swollen clitoris -- your pussy wets again and you need to be fucked. "Daddy..." you plead in your best little girl voice.

I chuckle, "That's my Little Girl. First some ice cream and berries."

I lifted the spoon to your lips. Vanilla ice cream and dark chocolate syrup. The ice cream is only a little melted so you realize that you couldn't have dozed for long at all. The sundae tastes wonderful.

After each bite, I kiss you long and deeply. You explore my mouth with your tongue, feeling my teeth and the roof of my mouth. Then a strawberry.

"Now, champagne to wash it down." You giggle. You are on fire. Lit up by the ice cream and chocolate and the jet-fuel of the champagne and the liquor.

I step back and admire you. You are beautiful and completely wanton. Your wrists are tied high above you. You have an expression of complete lust. Your breasts rise and fall with your deep breaths -- the clamps squeezing your nipples out -- their bells tinkling. Your legs are stretched and restrained open. You pussy lips are opened too and your clitoris is also stretched out and clamped beautifully. You are wet and glistening. Yes, you are ready.

You watch me take a large, long plug from the bed table. It slopes up from its end, but it has two ridges. One wider than the other. "I think you're ready for this, my Love."

You watch as I lubricate it and then bring it to bear at the opening of your sweet little ass hole. You relax to take it in and, as I push, you squirm to help work it as it stretches you. I work it, to increase your pleasure, fucking you with it deeper each stroke, opening you until you feel the widest part slip in and then I push it all the way in. Deep.

"Oh, God, it's so big." It opens you, excites you. You have that strange, naughty feel of being filled. You gasp.

I step to you and you feel the head of my cock at your opening. I push. Your flesh yields. And as I slide into you in one, long luxurious thrust, the curve of the strange plug does its work, pressing the head of my cock forward against your G-spot as it slides past.

Your eyes open wide. "Oh my God!"

My hands on your waist, I begin to fuck you slowly. The flesh of my cock strokes your magic place with each thrust. You begin to moan.

"Oh my God, Oh my Shujin!"

I smile. Our eyes are locked. Suddenly you have a surprised expression. For a split second, you laugh. Then you gasp as you shake and squeal. I feel your cunny grip me and milk my cock as you scream.

I fuck you harder now. "Good girl. Now -- I want more. Give it to me again."

You can't help it. You can't stop it. You feel a more powerful orgasm rip through you. You scream again. You whimper. It is perfect.

"More. I want more. You will give it to me again."

Your mouth is open. You shudder and scream, arching your back. And as you look back at me again, you exclaim, "Shujin! What's happening?"

As you come again, groaning and gripping me with your young vaginal muscles, you are squirting out the rare female ejaculate.

"You are coming, my love. It is perfect. It is beautiful."

"Daddy!"

"Now, Baby Girl." I slow my strokes, then speed up. You are wet and slick from your own come. You feel my cock swell. You feel another orgasm approaching fast -- you are on the edge. You smile at me and squeeze. You want to increase my pleasure. "Perfect! Such a good girl." And you feel the flood of my hot seed. "Ah! Oh! My Little Baby!" And you come again, writhing in your pleasure and ejaculating yet again.

You had heard of this -- but thought it was an old wives' tale -- that women had a kind of ejaculation. But you had certainly never had it happen to you before or even hear that any of your friends had experienced it. 

"Such a good girl."

I lean over you and kiss your mouth and you begin to explore me with your tongue. I undo your clitoris-clamp and you whimper as the blood rushes back into its swollen and distended flesh. I fuck you again -- slowly. I unstrap your legs and you wrap them around me. I unfasten your wrist restraints. You wrap your arms around my neck and hold me to your body -- so close and tight -- trembling.

"Good Girl. Now -- fuck me."

"Yes, Shujin. Yes, my love." And you drag me into bed, lying me back, straddling me, the strange plug still inside your ass. You fuck me hard. I hold your waist. You are going to come. My cock so deep -- you; so opened and taken.

Without thinking -- rising from your dream, perhaps -- like a whisper at first -- as a final barrier disappears -- like an admission of final surrender -- a word forms in your mind. I can feel you shaking. You lean down and kiss my mouth as you begin.

Then you look me in the eyes. All the barriers are stripped away. You say softly, as you began to come so very hard -- because it feels so good to say it. "Master."

I smile and your heart explodes -- so deeply in love.

You shuddered and you felt me swell again. Our eyes lock.

And you say it again, your voice trembling in the throes of your pleasure. "Master. My Master. Oh, my God. My Master." Tears come to your eyes. As if you are in the eye of our passion's storm -- like a gentle release. You know your life will never be the same. You are mine. I am yours. Ever more deeply each time we make love.

"Master." You choke up.

Now, as you softly cry, you begin to fuck me furiously. You ride me hard, my still-swollen member massaging your cervix. Almost there. Almost there. Balanced on the edge. I reach down between your legs and take your clitoris between my fingers. You are raw from the clamp. I squeeze firmly.

You shudder, and you begin to scream as you come, "Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Maasssttteeerrr!!"

It's my turn. I throw you onto your back. And fuck you hard. The plug in your ass continues to do its magic, mercilessly pressing my cock against your G-spot as it slides in and out -- and it is treating me to a delightful pleasure too -- you are unusually tight by virtue of being so filled.

"Mine! My Little Girl." And I shout as, to your surprise, I come yet again. "Mine. Arrrrrrhhh."

You laugh wickedly. You shriek. You pull me down against you and grip me with your legs. You weave your fingers through my hair and grip. You nuzzle my neck. You croon, "Shujin. My very own. My Master."

Our kisses are deep and lingering. You speak softly in my ear, "Master, you will never leave me. I have been afraid every time you go away. I've been afraid something will happen -- that I will lose you too."

You roll me over on my back, you on top. My cock, softening, slips out of you, You feel a flood of my seed drip out of you. I reach down and grip the plug. I pull and you yield. You groan, "Oh, Master -- so very naughty." I set it aside and gather the covers over us. You nuzzle my neck.

"I think I had a dream while you were gone, Master."

"Yes, Koneko?"

"Yes. Much of it I can't remember, but it was strange. And someone told me that our hearts would be healed. From now on, you will take me with you when you go."

I slide my hand up your spine and grip your hair. "Be nice."

You squeal and giggle.

"OK -- please, from now on you will take me."

"Good Girl"

"Hey, Master -- maybe I can do that I Dream of Genie blinking thing."

"Hey! Be Nice!"

You laugh and kiss me. You nuzzle me. "You are my Master, Shujin."

"Yes, Koneko." You can hear the smile in my voice. And I say, under my breath, "Wicked child."

"If I was your genie, what would you wish for, Master?"

"Your freedom."

You think about this. You smile. You whisper. "Then I would give myself back to you, Master. I will always be yours -- willingly."

You hear my breathing deepen. You roll over me and get out of bed between the special posts your legs had been tied to. You pour and guzzle a glass of champagne. Then another.

"Oh Master..."

"Hmmmm?"

I feel your hot mouth on my cock. Your hand gripping my balls, squeezing slightly. I begin to stiffen. Your finger slides into my asshole.

I weave my finger into your hair. "Oh yesss... Good Girl." 



Accustomed to Her Face Ch. 37



Love's Breath

Sweet. Beautiful. You rose from sleep to the warmth of our bed. Your lungs filled; your young heart beat softly now - softly - at peace. Lying on your belly, you felt the weight of the blankets, the softness of your pillow. You smiled and stretched - your eyes still closed - how lovely to be so wet between your legs - and a little sore.

You felt my hands grip your waist firmly from behind. Firmly, but, at the same time, tenderly. You felt my weight shift on top of you, pinning you down. You felt my hard cock pushing - and you obediently spread.

You squealed as I entered you. One slow luxurious stroke. Deeply impaling you.

"My Little Love." I spoke softly. "My very Own."

"Yes, Shujin - Daddy. I am yours."

Then, a slow fuck as you rode the waves of your excitement. Slow and strong and deep. And all the time pinning you down with my weight - holding you tight with my strong hands.

You mewed and squirmed. You thought about how those strong hands would always be there to hold you. They were there to keep you safe. They were there to protect you and please you and to take pleasure from you - to use you.

You groaned, "Yessss." It felt so good to be taken this way. "Oh, God! Yessss."

I was keeping you on the edge. You whimpered. "Pleeeease."

"Soon, Little Girl."

"Pleeeease. I need it. I need it now." But my pace was steady. And you were rising - rising like I wanted you to.

"Hush, Kitten. You're not ready yet."

You felt my pace slow - it was excruciating. You felt me lift, my cock remaining deep inside you. You felt my fingers massaging something wet on the base of your spine. You recognized the fragrance - it was the same oil you had experienced in your playroom.

You felt me applying more oil - up your spine - the top of your head - on your forehead - and around your nostrils and on your lips.

Then my weight was on you again and I was fucking you slowly, easily, resting on you. At first, the pleasant, musky fragrance of the oil on your nostrils seemed perfume-like and as you breathed through your mouth, the oil's flavor reminded you of humid, sultry summer nights. But slowly, the vapors of the oil filled your head and throat with a strange warmth.

You squirmed beneath me.

"That's my good little pet," I purred. "Breathe, my love." I continued slowly screwing you - deep. You felt your pussy spasm and gush. Involuntarily, you took a deep breath and it filled your lungs with a delicious heat and you felt your heart ignite.

"That's right, sweetheart, breathe deep.

"Oh - oh, Daddy. I love you so much." You took another deep breath.

"Good girl. I love you too, baby."

Another spasm, gripping my cock perfectly as I quickened my pace the slightest bit. You settled into your own rhythm of breathing and slightly undulating under my weight. You gave yourself to the wonderful, intoxication of the heat coursing through your young, lithe body.

Now, you are drinking the animal glory of our conjugation with every breath. It is like a dance - you beneath me, me above - holding you, guiding you, controlling the pace as you submit to it.

You arch up, back against me. I wrap my arms around your belly to gain better control. You spasm again. You hear me moan softly and you thrill to the sound and with the knowledge that you are pleasing me - your Shujin.

Your spine is electrified. Your third eye is opened. You are mine and mine alone. You feel my swollen cock sliding exquisitely in and out, in and out. Faster now. And you squeal and shudder.

"Daddy! Oh Daddy! Mmmmmm. Soooo gooood."

You are close and so am I. "Now, Little Girl. Give it to me." I slide my hand down your belly, reach down between your legs. I take your clitoris between my finger and thumb and roll it, squeezing. You feel me bite your neck.

It is explosive. You are filled with electric fire. You are acutely aware of my cock, and its tip especially. You feel as if you will greedily drink my come.

Suddenly you are particularly strong. Your breasts feel full you have the sense that your hips are more voluptuous. You feel something strange and wonderful stir in your womb. You feel - how to put it - connected to something - to womanhood - so strong and beautiful - with a kind of depth - a deep knowing - yes - with wisdom.

"Good Kitten," I purr.

Suddenly you arch and scream and squirm. Your pussy grips me. The orgasm is all consuming. You hear me gasp. You feel me swell. You feel me begin to pump. You are being filled with my semen. And it is as if you are drinking me - and greedily. You push back against me. You know what you want and you will have it - have me - have more.

You breathe deeply again. My cock is still hard, I am pressed deep into you. I feel you spasming and flexing and gripping me. It is superb and irresistible.

You think briefly of your strange dream - sexy - but you can't recall. You feel an odd but wonderful movement inside you. You undulate again, fucking me. You smile. There is something different since your dream. But what? Well - that can wait. But for now...

"Come on, Daddy. More. Come again. I need more."

Your heart is filled with love and you know I am feeling it too. "God, I love you, Little Girl."

"Breathe deep, Daddy," you whisper.

Then, it is as if I have no choice. A long and wonderful build and then it is as if you are drawing my come from my eager cock all over again. And I come - so strong and sweet while you purr, "Naughty Daddy. Good boy. Give me every drop. It's mine and I'm hungry. My naughty, naughty Daddy. You know I'm still not done with you. But, then again, I will never be done with you, will I? Naughty Daddy."

You squirm again and I gasp. I withdraw my cock, but you quickly roll over and pull me back between your opened legs. My cock is is inexplicably hard and you pull me into you. You embrace me. "Take your time, Daddy - there's no hurry - you know I'm yours. But you will fill me again, Daddy. You belong to me too and I'm far from done."

Your finger nails dig into my back. You are so delicious. My very own Little Girl. Yes - mine indeed. I kiss your mouth. "I love you, Konekochan." And I fuck you slowly.

You writhe and I feel your pussy grip me. You kiss my ear and say softly, "Mmmmmm. Sweet, sweet boy."