Where do I begin?

A virgin over a barrel: day two

 

Ok, I know this chapter is called “A virgin over a barrel: day two”, but because of the state my body was in after my first whipping as part of the machine, I needed at least a day off to recover, so in fact it was day three when all this happened to me.

 

I really needed more time to recover, but my time at my Daddy’s house in France was slipping away; have you noticed how holidays start out as though they’ll last forever, gradually the days speed up, faster and faster, and then suddenly it’s all over? Even though I was genuinely excited about starting college, a big part of me wanted time to stop, to stand still, so that my wonderful summer in France would last forever. I would happily have stayed with my Daddy for always.

 

Therefore, although we both knew that I needed to rest before my next sexual ordeal, we also both knew that time was running out. We both wanted me to be used as part of our machine a few times more before I flew out the following week; for one thing I wanted to cum again, and Daddy, well my Daddy was quite enjoying all this too!

 

So, a couple of days after the barrel arrived, and my back and delectable derriere had begun to recover from their severe whipping, we were sitting by the pool in companionable silence. It was once again late afternoon and we were just finishing the last of the Sancerre we’d had with lunch. Apart from his eyeglasses perched on his nose, Daddy was naked in his chair, and, as always that summer, all I was wearing was our favourite high-heeled sandals. Sitting there with my arms by my side and my legs stretched out in front of me, I could see that he was only pretending to read; I like it when he sneaks little peeks at me.

 

I remembered his request from weeks before that I lead him on, so I “innocently” covered my mouth, yawned, and hunched my shoulders forward, causing my breasts to squeeze together. Then I sat up straight and slowly stretched, lifting my arms high above my head, shaking my head to make a big deal out of clearing my hair back from my shoulders with both hands.

 

He looked at me over his glasses; my swaying breasts had his full attention. He looked up at my face.

 

“How do you feel, Princess?” he asked.

 

I smiled. “Very relaxed, thanks, Daddy.”

 

I made a decision.

 

“I think I’ll go get dressed now.”

 

I slowly stood up, coquettishly pretending to attempt to do so modestly, and therefore showing even more than usual. Naked in my heels, I stood very straight and tall and stretched lazily before turning to go into the house. I stopped with my legs a little apart, and looked back at him over my shoulder.

 

“How does my back look now, Daddy?”

 

I smiled as he forced himself to look up at face, away from my naked arse.

 

“Still a few marks, Princess, but they’re fading,” he allowed himself to look back down my body,  “and the bruising in your arse is much less obvious than it was. Does it still hurt?”

 

I replied, “No. It’s okay, thanks Daddy,” as I sauntered off into the house.

 

I reappeared a few minutes later with my hair up, so that my shoulders were bare, (bare shoulders are for me a very sexy sign of my submission) still wearing my heels, but with Daddy’s belt round my hips, and my straps jingling at my wrists and ankles. Looking a lot older than seventeen, I strutted over to where he sat, and keeping my back straight, knelt down in front of him. I unbuckled the belt and held it in front of me with both hands, offering it to him, real corny “slave-girl” stuff.

 

I’m older now, and whilst I’m afraid I’m really no wiser, I do know that the corny “slave-girl” thing still works for him every time. As you know, back then I had only just let school, and I was making this up as I went, in fact we both were. Anyway, it just seemed to be the right thing to do.

 

It was. His cock was immediately hard. He inched towards me on his chair and spread his legs on either side of me, squeezing them gently together against my thighs. He took the belt from my hands, and holding it at each end, lifted it over my head and encircled me with it, letting it slide down my back to rest on my hips. Then he used it to gently pull me towards him. I lifted my hands up to his face and he kissed my fingers as he pushed forward some more, thrusting his stiff cock into the soft flesh of my naked stomach.

 

I tensed my stomach muscles and pushed back hard against him, leaning forward to kiss him and trap his cock between our bodies. I love the feeling of his stiff cock against me, and I helped excite both of us by I rocking my pelvis and flexing my stomach muscles against his hardness. Then I relaxed and let my arms fall to my side. Drawing back a little, we looked at each other. I felt his eyes slowly scan down my body. I felt them bore deep into me, into my shoulders, into my breasts with their dark areolas and hard nipples, down over my flat stomach, pausing where his stiff cock had just smeared a thin, shiny trail of his excitement across me. His eyes came to finally came to rest, devouring the sight of my young, virgin cunt, pouting in its frame of my dark pubic hair. Still kneeling, I spread my legs a little further as I felt my cunt lips moisten with my own juices.

 

“Which bit of me would you like to whip today, Daddy?”

 

As I said the words I realised that this was much more than just a “slave-girl” routine, I really was my Daddy’s little plaything, his toy; in fact, all these years later, I still am. My nostrils were suddenly full of the heady smell of my own excitement as my cunt lips pouted even more and I felt a drip trickle down my leg. I really was his slave; in those simple, far-off days, the only thing I wanted in the whole world was for him to need me, to want me, and I was ready to do anything to make it happen, absolutely anything. If he wanted to love me with his belt; so be it! If that was to be the way of things then I wanted him to whip me with it right now and forever, especially right now!

 

He looked deep into my eyes. “We’ll see, Princess, we’ll see.”

 

He helped me to my feet and said, “Wait there,” and he crossed the hard, sun-baked lawn, trailing his belt from his right hand as he walked. He stopped beside the barrel and turned to look at me. He looked hard and dangerous, standing there naked with his belt trailing from one hand, looking at me through his cool grey eyes.

 

“Now you.”

 

With my Daddy’s eyes following every step, I walked towards him, carefully placing one foot exactly in front of the other. Naked except for my heels and my jingling restraining straps, I walked like a catwalk model, arms swinging, and my whole body loose but upright as I let my weight land on my heels, sashaying naked towards my Daddy, I strutted towards him across the hard, sun-baked lawn in the sultry late afternoon sun. His eyes followed me every step of the way; truly, I felt beautiful, sexy, and desirable. I knew my handsome, dirty father loved me and wanted me.

 

He and I, we’re quite a pair, aren’t we?

 

Talking about pairs, as I walked I felt the weight of my breasts swaying freely in the warm garden sunshine, filling me with a warm sexual glow deep between my legs. Smiling, I approached this man, who was my tormentor, my torturer, my brutal, chaste lover, my Daddy. Beyond the fact that he was going to whip me somewhere on my body, I had no idea of exactly what was in store for me, I had no idea of his plans, but I loved him, and trusted him, and so I simply walked towards him, ready to accept my beating at his hands.

 

I reached the barrel and stood beside him. I stretched out and touched the smooth, warm wood, softly stroking it with my fingers; I remembered the pain I’d suffered on it just two days previously. My favourite tension started deep in my stomach and between my legs. Suddenly nervous, I swallowed and tried to smile as I looked for instructions.

 

“Princess, climb on and lie down lengthwise on your back.”

 

My Daddy helped me climb up and swing one leg over as though I was mounting a very fat pony. Leaning forward to steady myself with my hands together on the barrel, just in front of my pubic mound, my breasts were squeezed together by my arms.  I sat down rather heavily with my legs spread wide on either side. Lifting my hands and placing them on my hips, I sat up with my back straight and let my unsupported breasts sway freely. To keep my balance I had to push out forwards with my stomach, and push back with my arse, rocking my pelvis forward in a kind of sitting caricature of the sexy way French girls walk. I sat there for a moment with my back straight and let my breasts settle. My full weight pressed down hard on my open, unprotected cunt.

 

With the exciting tension deep in my stomach developing with every beat of my heart, my Daddy took me by the hand and helped me to lean backwards, supporting my shoulders as he lowered my head and back until I was lying on the barrel. He then helped me lift my legs up, and there I was, naked apart from my heels and straps, lying face up, stretched out full length on the curve of the wood with my body bent backwards. Because of the curvature of the barrel I was bent backwards like a bow; my hips were quite a lot higher than either my head and shoulders, or my feet and ankles, but I couldn’t keep my legs together on the smooth, rounded surface and my feet slipped apart, sliding far down the smooth wooden flanks of the barrel. I lay there with my legs bent at the knees and my thighs spread wide apart.

 

One at a time, he lifted my arms gently over my head, helped me to get comfortable with them hanging down behind me, and clipped my wrists to the restraining wire at that end of our machine. Then he walked round me, and, lifting my ankles, slowly pulled my legs out straight, stretching my body a little more to ease my hips a few inches up the wooden slope until they were resting on the broadest, highest point of the curved surface. My arms and upper body were stretched tight.

 

Then he let go my ankles and let gravity spread my legs once, until my feet were hanging as far down the sides of the barrel as they would reasonably go, then carefully forced them to go a little lower and clipped them in place.

 

Bent backwards, and with my arms and legs tied tightly apart, my sexy, smooth stomach looked even better than usual, I have to admit that it looked great with my stomach muscles stretched tight like a board. Gazing along the length of my body I had no hint of a cleavage, gravity making my big breasts sit wide and high on my chest. Looking between their soft mounds, I could just see the sweet dipping contour of my navel, and beyond that the smooth sweep of my lower abdomen where my skin sloped down on either side of my pubic mound and swept up to the hard points of my pelvic bones. A hot, summer breeze ruffled the broad, dark triangle of my pubic hair. 

 

I lay there along the spine of the barrel, looking up at the blue, cloudless sky. With my legs hanging down, my feet and knees tended to splay outwards, displaying the pale, soft skin of my inner thighs, and causing my naked cunt to gape. I felt a little of my moisture leak from me.

 

So there I was, exactly as I had imagined I would be when this whole barrel idea had come to me the previous week. This was exactly the picture I’d seen with my mind’s eye. (So much had happened, it was hard to remember that it was less that a week since my Daddy had crucified me, and then mercilessly whipped me on top of the table; how time flies when you’re having fun!)

 

So there I was, naked, (just in case you’d forgotten) tied down, bent backwards, and with my legs forced wide apart, the angle forcing my dripping cunt to gape upwards, completely exposed, unprotected, and completely vulnerable to my father’s gaze. My Daddy could literally do anything he wanted to me and I would be unable to stop him. I was nervous, actually a little scared, but I also knew that I was where I most wanted to be, helpless, and at my Daddy’s mercy.

 

Judging by the size of his hard cock, he seemed to like looking at his little girl stretched out naked on her back, tied at a comfortable height for a whipping.

 

So, dear reader, I’ve described my situation; I was, for the moment, quite comfortable. Maybe you should make yourself comfortable before you read on.

 

Standing beside my, my Daddy bent down and kissed my stomach. I felt his lips on my taught skin and his tongue dip deep into my navel, licking the sweat that had gathered there. I was hot, sweating a little in fear and in anticipation. He kissed my flawless stomach once more, just above my pubic hair, and stood up. I closed my eyes.

 

Then it started.

 

With no warning he brought the belt down hard on my stomach, ten times, mercilessly. With each stroke I grunted deep in my throat, and suddenly there was sweat all over my body. The hard leather laid fiery lines across my skin; each time the last few inches of the flailing belt landed on my navel, the square tip whipping down hard, to punch deep into my taught, unprotected body, immediately bruising me and raising a series of low, red ridges, my welts.

 

My Daddy whipped me ten times, quick and hard, the belt smacking down on exactly the same place each time. I could feel my tortured skin tighten as the bruising and welts started to spread over one side of my stomach and abdomen. My grunts became louder; by the fourth one I was crying, my mouth wide open as I gasped for breath.

 

The belt punched into me ten times; by about the sixth or seventh stroke I’d stopped grunting, I was shouting, the breath being forced from my body with each blow. Each time the leather cracked down on my skin I struggled in my bonds, willing myself to stay absolutely still, but unable to prevent my body from trying to cower defensively in the face of this onslaught, to tightly curl into a foetal position. I was desperate to protect my unprotected stomach and abdomen from my father’s vicious attack, but I was completely helpless; I could do nothing, literally nothing, to protect myself from his belt. In my helplessness all I could do was weep; I just lay there on my back, choking on my tears, and struggled and shouted and cried.

 

The blows stopped. I opened my red, streaming eyes and watched as he crossed to stand by my other side and I was just able to turn my head enough to look at him as he stood there in the classic position, naked, with his legs a little apart, his hard cock proudly displayed to me, and with his belt coiled once round his fist, looking down at me as I lay there, sobbing in my pain and fear. I’ve never felt so completely helpless; I was scared.

 

His cock oozed. It stood up, stiff and almost vertical in front of him, streaks of his excitement glistening on the shaft, a rope of his fluid swinging from its tip. It swayed as he once more lifted his arm to strike me, and I shut my eyes.

 

He hit me in exactly the same place as before, right across my navel, but from the other side this time. The unyielding body of the belt cracked down hard on the very place where its flailing tip had punched welts into me only a few moments before; the pain was excruciating. The belt tip dug into me, creating more welts on the other side of my navel; I was screaming continuously.

 

This time my Daddy was in no hurry. He stood there looking down at me, smiling in his lust as I struggled and screamed; my chest heaving as I struggled to breathe, sweat pouring off me, howling in pain and crying my eyes out. Then he lifted his arm and brought it down again, hitting me once again across my navel. My heart was pounding, I could almost hear it; I was in a state of panic. I was being savagely attacked; I was in acute pain, but tied and exposed as I was, I was completely defenceless. What was so frightening was that I could do nothing to protect myself, absolutely nothing. I could only lie there, at his mercy, howling in my agony.

 

And he showed me no mercy, but smiled down at me and hit me with the belt again, taking time to aim so that he once again cracked it down hard across my stomach, across my navel so that the evil, square leather tip dug into my taught, unprotected young flesh to create a whole pattern of bright new ridges. My stripes.

 

The pain was simply beyond belief. My Daddy loved every second of it!

 

The sticky, swinging rope of his excitement now stretched back from the tip of his rigid cock to his stomach. His whole lower belly glinted in the evening sun, smeared by his liquids. His excitement was splashing on me as he stood beside me, his swaying cock bouncing against his body as he thrashed me. There were shiny drops of his fluids all over my stomach; his thighs, his cock and balls were covered in thick, mucous streaks of it. Even his pubic hair was matted and soaked.

 

I’d never known him be so aroused, so excited, so hard, but that was little consolation to me just then, especially when he moved slightly and changed his target.

 

Now, obviously it had hurt like hell when he was whipping me across my stomach, but I soon discovered that the muscles and the tiny layer of fat I had there had in fact been absorbing quite a lot of the impact of the belt strokes, and therefore quite a lot of the pain. I really thought I was going to die when he brought the belt tip down hard, hard, hard, on the pale, smooth slope of my abdomen between my pubic mound and the point of my pelvis. Of course there is a lot of muscle there, but in those days I had no fat there whatsoever. (Even now, quite a few years later, I’m still tall and slim, only more mature!)

 

I felt my skin stretch tightly over the smooth hard point of my pelvic bone as the leather punched deep into my taught body at one of its most exposed and vulnerable places, the tight little groove between my hip bone and my pubic hair. Even though it was quite close to my cunt, this wasn’t sexy, this just hurt! My Daddy really was just torturing me, hitting me hard in all my most sensitive, non-sexy areas. I screamed, I wept, I continually tried to curl up into a foetal ball in an attempt to protect my fragile flesh, but I couldn’t. I could barely move; I could only writhe helplessly in my world of pain.

 

Staked out, naked and vulnerable, bent backwards over the barrel, which was a punishment machine of my own design, I was helpless, just a pain-wracked, dutiful, loving daughter, letting my own father, my sweet, loving, Daddy have his will with me. He was breathing very heavily through his open mouth, actually snorting with the effort of each stroke of the belt into my soft flesh. He dashed the sweat from his eyes, and in them I could see that he was whipping my sensitive young body for absolutely no reason other than his own perverted desires.

 

The belt tip cracked into my abdomen again. Sweat poured from my red, tormented flesh; my body glowed in the stifling evening sun, and in my semi-consciousness I had sunk to the level of something barely human, I was howling like a cornered animal, which in reality was precisely what I had become. I was trapped; there was no escape. He hit me, again, and again. With each smack of the belt into me he grunted with the effort, his sweat trickling down his chest, his huge cock waving like a fist in front of his glistening belly as he punished my abdomen, whipping the leather deep into me again and again.

 

The blows stopped. Through slit eyes I watched as he took a step towards me. His cock was so stiff he found it difficult to walk; he almost waddled. Stretching out, he gently ran his fingertips over the deep red marks on my shrinking stomach, the fiery dents and ridges he had carved into my abdomen with his evil black belt. Savagely he pushed his fingers deep into my welts. I groaned. He bent over me and kissed me where the ridges intersected and crossed, slowly running his tongue over them, savouring my sobs as his hot drool gently tormented my body.

 

With a huge effort I cleared my thoughts and managed to lift my head just enough to watch as he spread his legs to accommodate his massively swollen cock and balls. I’d never seen him so big and hard. We both knew that he’d always got off on whipping me, it excited him to see me in pain and to hear me cry and scream, and I’d always gone along with the excuse that he was helping me to cum. But having me helpless, in real pain, and nowhere near orgasm, merely an object for him to hurt and abuse was exciting him more than I’d thought possible. I was literally his… well not his whipping boy, I was his whipping girl.

 

At last I began to feel excited.

 

When I was climbing up on to our machine my cunt had been moist, and it had dripped a little, my thighs were still a little shiny close to my sex, but that was way back, it seemed like hours previously. And I’d been very aroused when my Daddy was stretching me out and clipping me comfortably into position, exposed on top of our machine. I had been excited then, but that had soon stopped when the real pain started.

 

The brain is the biggest sexual organ, so I know that you guys can get very hot and bothered just looking at pictures of girl like me with no clothes on; hell, I hope you’re good and stiff while you read these tales from my youth, and the only pictures here are the ones in my memory that I’m sharing with you.

 

But with girls it’s different. Sure, it’s nice for us to look at a picture of a good-looking guy in the nude, especially if he’s displaying a nice, hard cock, but guys, believe me, to get the best out of us; you really have to be there.

 

And my Daddy was certainly there, and getting the best out of me! I managed to run my gaze over him for a moment. His physique wasn’t bad for his age, he still looks after himself, so standing naked with his belt wrapped once round his fist he looked mean and powerful and sexy and dangerous.

 

He bent over me to kiss my stomach, his head rising and falling in time with my frantic, heavy breathing. He kissed me again in the same place and I started to calm down. I stopped crying and merely sniffed a few times, still sobbing as he delicately slipped the tip of his tongue into my navel and lapped up some of my sweat, which had pooled there. Then he ran his tongue over some of the welts he had just inflicted on me, kissing my raised, tortured flesh with his lips before turning his head from side to side, wiping his face into my sweat. He barely breathed and his eyes were tightly shut; he was lost in his own private place, savouring the feel of the ruin he had made of my stomach, and the memory of the pain, my pain, which had witnessed its creation.  

 

I lay there, the knot of my excitement spreading through me from my stomach to my cunt. I lifted my head and watched my Daddy in his private reverie, pressing his face harder into my tortured stomach and I suddenly knew that all was well. My Daddy loved me and I could do this for him. I could hold on. I would survive. I let my head fall back to rest on the wood and through my sobs I actually started to hum the stupid Gloria Gaynor song, right up until the point when my Daddy straightened up and, with his still rampant cock, waddled round past my feet to stand beside my waist on the other side. I knew what was coming and shut my eyes again.

 

I didn’t have to wait for long.

 

A shattering crack of the belt on the other side of my abdomen, lengthwise down the deep groove between my pubic mound and the peak of my pelvis, brought me screaming back to earth. Jesus, it hurt. I certainly wasn’t singing now! I tensed myself against the next crack of the leather on my skin, but it never came.

 

My father was making little mewling noises in the back of his throat. I opened my eyes to see him freeze and look down in amazement at his cock. He stood there, his legs spread wide, and with his knees bent he started to thrust forward with his pelvis, literally fucking the air as his huge stiff cock erupted, spraying his pale spunk high into the air for it to arc over me and fall on to my stomach, spraying all over the once smooth, flawless skin he had kissed so lovingly and then beaten into a ruined mess of red pain and darkening bruises. His hot seed burned me as it splashed onto my tortured, sensitive flesh.

 

We were both caught, frozen in time. I even stopped crying! His hands were nowhere near his rigidly ejaculating weapon, my hands were of course tied; neither of us was touching him or his cock. He was simply cumming in mid air, his excitement exploding from him purely because of the wicked torture he was inflicting on me, his loving, lovely, young virgin daughter. He laughed out loud and grunted with each thrusting spasm as his cock continued to spray me, inundating me with his spunk. He howled with delight, and animal roar of power and of excitement and of his complete domination - of me! 

 

His sperm spattered my body, little pools of it on my skin; some of it landed on my navel and seeped down into its sweet cavity, some of it landed on the ridges and welts he had created as my torturer out of the smooth, tanned skin of my stomach. Some landed on the fiery red flesh between them. My stomach was covered with shiny streaks in the evening sun. I was coated with his thick, pale sperm, his seed, my Daddy’s cum!

 

Watching him orgasm all over me had an extraordinary and immediate effect on me. My cunt suddenly gushed; I felt my fluids actually spray from me, wetting the insides of my thighs with my urgent sexual demands. I needed to cum. My body suddenly demanded sexual release. Watching my father spray his excited release all over my whipped and abused stomach suddenly took me straight to the edge of my own excitement.

 

Eventually he straightened up, his stiff cock streaked with his cum as it trickled down his still erect shaft, and smiled down at me as I lay there, victim of his depraved lusts

 

I whispered, “Daddy, please, you’ve cum, my turn…. my hair won’t protect me much, Daddy, please,” and I tried to lift my hips up from the curved wooden surface to which I was shackled. But I couldn’t move. I managed to tense my hips; squeezing my arse cheeks tight together I forced my pubic mound to rise up by a tiny amount, offering myself to him.

 

He understood; he’s my Daddy.

 

Without a word, and with his fluids still swinging from the tip of his cock, he went round to stand beside my head. As he passed I saw his cock tense once more and I watched as a last, final spasm of his orgasm squeezed out a final few drops of spunk, which dribbled down the side of his still massive cock. Breathing heavily, his whole body shiny with sweat, he adjusted his grip on the belt then softly placed it on my body, laying it down the length of my stomach so that its tip rested lightly on my pubic hair. I once again squeezed my arse cheeks together, and he lifted his belt, ready to accept my offering.

 

He brought it down on me, the body of the belt adding to the ravaged mess of my stomach and the last few inches whipping down hard on my raised, offered pubic mound. The very tip cracked hard on to my body, curling wickedly to crack into the top edge of my gaping cunt lips.

 

I screamed, “Daddy, oh Daddy,” and wept as I lifted my hips as best as I could, offering myself once again. The belt cracked down again, and again, each time burning my abused stomach, punching into the bone of my pubic mound, and its tip whipping into the top edge of my gaping slit. I howled in anguish and delight. I could feel my excitement; I could feel it growing, developing, my need burning into me, my lust suddenly filling my heart and my mind and my cunt with a dripping, insatiable insistence that I be hurt and loved and abused and cherished and especially hurt, by my wicked, evil, strong, loving Daddy.

 

I suddenly felt it all, a spinning mixture of feelings and memories and experiences and sensations. I was tied on naked my back, my arms and legs were stretched out as far as they would go; my vulnerable body was a sacrifice to my father and his belt. I felt the pain of my destroyed stomach, felt the memory of his tongue lapping up the sweat from my navel, the crazy sight of his helpless sexual abandon as he stood naked beside me, his involuntary spasms forcing his spunk from his cock, spraying his seed on my defenceless body. I felt proud; I did that!

 

I felt the scream in my throat start deep between my legs. Sweat dripped from me as I trembled and shook in my bonds, and suddenly there it was; my goal achieved.

 

In a mindless agony I came, my chest heaving as I fought for breath, shrieking with the delight of my ecstasy and my torture, helpless as my Daddy, my loving Daddy, continued to bring the belt down hard, its evil fire crackling along the length of my stomach, whipping my spasms of pleasure as I tried to lift my hips in their tethered immobility to meet and welcome the leather as it punched my pubic mound and whipped again and again into very the edge of my cunt.

 

I pushed and struggled and screamed; my legs were suddenly wet as my spasms forced my fluids to hurl themselves again and again from deep within my abused cunt and spray their acrid sweetness over the smooth curved wood to which I was tied. My cunt and my legs, and the barrel between them, were soaked; streaked and dripping with the fluids of my love, the bitter, salty juices of my private world of sweet pain. I lay on my back and howled to the sky in my ecstasy and my delight, as the flailing belt thudded into me, elevating me, lifting me to my private heaven and hell of love and sex and agony.

 

My vision misted over; the world turned pink. Then, for a moment, everything went black.

 

Eventually it all came to an end. A slow, sexy smile crept across my face and I felt my cunt relax as my vision gradually came back. I was completely limp as I lay still, my breathing slowing back to normal as I waited for the world to return. I had returned from the abyss of my pleasure a pale and exhausted shadow of a girl.

 

My father coughed; I knew he was about to speak.

 

I spoke first, to stop him, because even though we had each orgasmed for our own, and for each other’s pleasure, I had more to give. I really didn’t want it all to stop; I knew I could help my Daddy cum once more. I was his little girl; his Princess, and Princesses are in charge! I wanted to give him more and he had to take it, graciously accepting his Princess’s generous gift.

 

I smiled at my stupid thoughts, and whispered,

 

“Thank you, Daddy. You always know what I need, every time. Thank you for my whipping and letting me cum for you. But Daddy, I’m your virgin Princess, but I’m also your defenceless maiden. Please don’t whip me any more today, but use me any way you like so that you cum again, please. For me, Daddy.”

 

Deep in my heart I really wanted him to fuck me.

 

But he didn’t. Instead, he dropped the belt and climbed up on top of me. For a panicky moment I thought (hoped?) that he actually was going to ignore our unspoken decision about my virginity and fuck me for real, but instead he did something much dirtier, and although it was more dangerous, much more fun, well, for him, anyway.

 

He sat down on me with his legs on either side of my head and his full weight on my face. He shifted his position so as to place his anus right on my mouth and rocked forward on his pelvis so that his sticky balls were resting on my chin. The heat and the sweat and the smell between his legs were stifling. The salty taste of his sweat and his sexual fluids, and the acrid, bitter taste and smell of his arse filled my world.

 

 I was completely blind and with my nose still blocked by my tears I could barely breathe, but I parted my lips enough to softly lick his dark bud. I pushed with my tongue and felt it enter him a little way, and then pursed my lips against him, my head moving just a little up and down as I lovingly kissed and licked his arsehole. With my mouth open, one of my teeth snagged one of the little hairs around his anus and it tugged loose, falling onto my tongue. I drew it into my mouth and swallowed it. I felt him change his position very slightly and was aware that he was moving rhythmically and starting to pant for breath. He was masturbating.

 

With my Daddy sitting naked on my face I was completely blind, but I realised that he was wanking as I slipped my tongue into his arsehole. His sphincter relaxed a little and I managed to force my tongue deeper into him, but I was really having trouble breathing. His full weight was pressing down on me, blocking my nose and mouth; I couldn’t breathe. My heart was pounding; I was drifting away. My heart was pounding as I struggled hopelessly against my bonds and fought for breath. I could feel myself passing out, but my Daddy was still sitting on my face, masturbating, oblivious to my difficulty.

 

Just as I drifted off into complete unconsciousness I felt his anus suddenly widen and my tongue pushed hard, deep into him, deep in to my Daddy’s arsehole. Then his anus clamped tight on my tongue again and I couldn’t even move my head anymore. I heard him shout… something, “Princess!” I think, and he was thrusting upwards with his hips, actually lifting my head up by my trapped tongue and banging it back down on the barrel as he came on my body again, his spasms again messing on my stomach with his hot, sticky spunk.

 

My Daddy was wanking on me, cumming on me, but then I was gone, sunk into the blackness, and the next thing I knew he was standing on the grass beside me, frantically unclipping me from the barrel, helping me to sit up, and my bladder had relaxed, and even as I felt him lift my body, I was pissing myself, a steady stream of my pale, sweet urine soaking my spread legs and the smooth curve of the wood between them.

 

Exhausted, I couldn’t stop pissing but let him help me to sit up anyway. By the time he had unclipped my feet and had me sitting up properly with my legs spread across the barrel, we were both soaked. I sat up straight and coughed a few times.

 

I looked up at the suddenly cloudy sky.

 

I whispered, “I’m okay, Daddy. Kiss me.”

 

Leaning against me as I sat, parched naked apart from my straps and my heels, my Daddy took me in his arms and kissed me softly on the lips, then held me tight as I slipped my tongue into his mouth.

 

Eventually we stopped for breath; I didn’t want to pass out again!

 

I looked up at the sky. It was cloudy, dark and grim for the first time in weeks.

 

I asked him, “Where did the sun go?” just as the first drops of cooling rain fell on to my exposed and abused body. A crack of lightning and the heavens opened, soaking us both with sheets freezing water direct from the stratosphere. The bitter water was painful and sexy and wonderfully cooling on my bruised young body, washing me clean, and washing us clean, not clean of our sin; neither of us see anything sinful in our love, but washing us clean for our pleasure.

 

“I think my heels will sink in to the grass, Daddy. You’ll have to carry me.”

 

And he did.

 

I love my Daddy. He whips me to hell and back, but protects me from getting my feet wet in the rain. He’s lovely.

 

Author’s note:

 

I hope you’ve found this chapter of my memoirs as exciting and stimulating as the others, and that you’ve been able to find it in your heart, and your balls, to be able to get stiff for me again. I love the thought that you might actually masturbate while you’re thinking about me and the events in these stories, all of which happened, just as I’m remembering them for you now, even if it was a few years ago.

 

But I really wish I could help you in person. Of course I’m older now than I am in these stories, but, like my Daddy, I look after myself, and I’m still tall, slim, & sexy; still a pretty good-looking brunette. Would you like to feel my slim hand round the shaft of your cock? I could tickle your balls with my tongue.

 

I’m afraid I might not let you whip me though. Normally only my sweet old Daddy, and my French girl friend, who is also my business partner, get to do that. Maybe you could watch. 

 

Kiss.

 

C