Submissive

Like Animals, Then Like Loons #Dominance and #Submission

We fucked like animals, then laughed like loons.

"I want you to go upstairs and get naked, girl. Get the riding crop and wait for me in the center of the room. Go!"

I never move faster than when Daddy issues an order like this. My speed is determined partly by excitement at the kinky fuckery to come and partly by a fear of failing and disappointing him. I raced around the room, ripping off clothes, frantically searching for the riding crop.

Ok, middle of the room. Did he want me to kneel? What am I supposed to do with the riding crop. Shit!

Desperate to present a picture that would make him hard, take his breath away, and continue to be a good girl, I went for basic. I told myself not to overthink it. If he'd wanted something specific, he would have said.

When the door opened a moment later, I stood in the middle of the room, naked, eyes down, with the riding crop in my open palms.

"Good girl."

God, the power of those two words. My stomach fluttered and flipped.

I kept my eyes down as he walked around the room, readying himself. I jumped a bit when I felt his touch. I hadn't realized how close he was.

"Look at me, girl."

Staring into each other's eyes, time stopped. I felt ensnared, completely at his mercy. What would happen next?

"Kneel."

Dropping to my knees, his rock-hard cock was at eye level. "You know what to do."

I fell on him, ravenous. I sucked and licked.

CRACK! CRACK!

I squealed around his cock as the riding crop came down on my ass. I knew not to stop. My head bobbed back and forth over him, spit filling my mouth. I could feel drool pooling on my lip. A sloppy blowjob. How appropriate.

CRACK!

Squeal!

CRACK! CRACK!

Eeeeeeek!!

I never stopped. Back and forth, in and out. Slurp. Suck. Gag. Squeal. Repeat.

The blows stopped hurting as the pleasure transcended the pain completely. I felt the sting, the sharpness of each crack, but my brain didn't register the sensation as pain. I lost myself in the silkiness of his cock in my mouth and warmth of each strike on my ass.

Too soon, he backed away, leaving my mouth empty. My hands had fallen to the floor at some point. I was on my hands and knees, breathing hard, feeling loose and wobbly. He knelt behind me.

He grabbed my hips and pulled me back onto his cock. I hissed in pleasure. I have always loved doggy-style - the depth and angle of his cock makes for an amazing fuck, while the position makes me feel small and used.

As he pounded my pussy, his hips slapping into my ass, I had one last coherent thought. We're fucking like animals. This is perfect.

CRACK! CRACK!

Lashes from the riding crop killed the last of my thoughts.

SLAP! He smacked my ass and I hissed again.

His fingers dug into my hips. The pain felt good.

SMACK! Both hands came down on my ass at the same time. I squeaked in surprise, then moaned in pleasure.

We fucked and fucked. CRACK! SLAP! SMACK! Over and over again, as his cock pummeled my pussy, his hands and the crop pummeled my ass. I felt my legs lose all their strength, but I was determined to last. My knees burned. I had a vague thought about carpet burn but it was gone as soon as it appeared.

Finally, Daddy pulled out and collapsed on the floor just as the last of my strength gave out. We lay on the floor panting.

"You fucked me until my knees gave out, Daddy. We fucked like animals. I like that shit."

He laughed, deep and rumbly, the laugh of a satisfied man. "Yes, we did, babygirl. My knees gave out, too, or we'd still be going."

"And you spared my freshly washed sheets. Thank you!"

"Don't forget your pajamas. I should get credit for that, too." I'd lamented the "pajamas smell like sex" problem just the day before.

"Oh, you do, Daddy. I'm very appreciative."

After a few moments of recovery, we helped each other to our feet. My legs wobbled. Daddy grabbed hold of me, pulling me close. My body and mind wouldn't cooperate with one another. Daddy poured me into bed. My body felt like lead, although my mind was racing. I laid in bed, an immovable object while Daddy went downstairs and got water, straightened the room, put the crop away.

"How is it that I have zero strength and you're fine? That doesn't seem fair." My words slurred, my eyes fluttered; it was as if I was drunk.

"Because I'm Daddy." He sounded so calm, so strong...so not-fucked-up.

We talked a bit more, our conversation veering here and there. And then I got the giggles.

"It's like I'm drunk." I wanted to make my tongue cooperate with my words, but it was impossible. I still couldn't move my legs or raise my head. "Is this some new form of subspace?"

"Maybe so, babygirl, maybe so."

I still don't remember what we talked about in the inbetween times, but we laughed until my cheeks and stomach hurt. We laughed like loons at me, at each other, at life.

And that's the dichotomy in Dominance and submission that so many people don't understand. One minute, savagery and the next, laughter, love, and care. One minute, we're fucking like animals, and in the next, we're laughing like loons.

About the author

Kayla Lords

I am an erotic author, sex blogger, podcaster, freelance writer, and an opinionated marketer. I’m also a masochistic babygirl submissive with an amazing and sadistic Daddy Dom. Welcome to my kinky corner of the internet!

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