“Daddy, I want you to do bad things to me.”
“I would love to do bad things to you, babygirl, but Daddy is very tired.”
I might have pouted for a split second. “There’s always the Hitachi, Daddy. If you want to use it, of course.”
Batting of eyelashes, sweet kisses on the neck, praying that he says yes, trying not to appear to be directing our play.
“Get on the bed, girl.”
He pulled out our thickest towels, laying them across the bed. Next, he dug out the wand from the closet.
“Lay back, spread those legs.”
Oh shit. What had I asked for? This thing makes me a writhing, screaming banshee – and he’s a sadistic bastard who shows little mercy when he’s in the right mood.
He started out gentle – as gentle as a 10 horse-powered orgasmic torture device will allow. The wand rolled over my pussy, grazing my clit still hiding, not yet ready to come out and play. It moved over my slit. My hips bucked in an automatic, almost Pavlovian response.
Over and over, he moved the wand, never letting me get too comfortable. And then he went in for the kill. He pressed the buzzing head to my poor defenseless clit. I screeched, just barely remembering to swallow the sounds, scooting across the bed in a desperate attempt to get away from the overwhelming sensations. He followed me.
The orgasm slammed into me. My hips lifted and fluid poured out of my pussy. He chuckled. Then he yanked me back – I had come off the towel almost completely.
The next several minutes – maybe it was hours, I don’t know – played out the same way. He’d get me worked up and then press the wand into my body, mercilessly, almost gleefully. I came in wet gushes and dry writhings.
At one point, in a stupid effort to diminish the intensity, I clamped my thighs over the wand. I realized my mistake in the same moment he realized the potential. Daddy forced my legs together as he jammed the wand into my body, shaking it slightly. My body convulsed over and over again. My mouth opened wide to scream, as I choked on the sounds.
We continued on and on like this until…
“That’s enough, babygirl. You’re done for the night.”
He wasn’t wrong. The towel beneath my ass was soaked. I had a death grip on his pillow in my left hand. My right hand hung in the air, still outstretched, fingers splayed from the final intense orgasm. I couldn’t move. My limbs felt like dead weight, the heaviness almost oppressive.
Much like an oversized, really heavy, ragdoll, Daddy helped position me on the bed so he could lie down as well. I almost cried from the sheer inability to move. He’d not only wrung me dry, he’d emptied me completely.
“Thank you, Daddy. I love you.” I mumbled the words into my pillow, sweat and fluids still clinging to my body.
“I love you, too, babygirl. Now rest.”
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I knew I’d asked for it – all of it.
Masturbation Monday really is going to be a thing. I’m working on the elements of the website, and Daddy will be putting it together for me, as soon as schedules allow. More information will be coming (hehehe) soon – and I hope you’ll join me in making Masturbation Monday an amazing experience.