I shouldn’t be this needy. Not after the four orgasms I gave myself yesterday, trying to take the edge off before I’d see you again today. And yet, the sight of you makes my insides flutter. I couldn’t figure out what mood I was in when I woke up this morning, but there’s no mistaking it now. My mind whimpers under your gaze, knees weak.

We kiss, melting together as our hands roam over the other’s body. I try to retain some sliver of control over you, desperately grasping at the dominance I know to be inside me somewhere. There’s no hiding from you, though. There never is. My desperation, need and submission are probably pouring from my eyes as I look up at you in between kisses.

“Is it a weak day today?” you whisper in my ear, amused.

“Yes,” I breathe, answering you without pause.

Instinctively, my mind reels, shocked by my admission. I’m not weak! The resistance I, for a long time, mistook for dominance. The resistance that gives voice to my insecurities, keeping me from getting hurt by dissuading me from giving myself over fully. I try to fight it down. I want this, I tell myself. I need this, need him to take me. Defiance snarling like a cornered animal, I try to contain it, falling back on my strongest predator.

With our bodies pushed up against each other, you cup my face in your hands and we lock eyes. “Don’t be angry,” you tell me. I’ve been using my dominance to make my resistance submit. As soon as I realise this, I decide I don’t want to. In your arms, I wonder what would happen if I would just… let go. So I do. I let go. Let go of the worry, the doubt, the control. And it’s suddenly so easy. My eyes soften. I am yours.

You back me up against the wall, towering over me. “What do you need, little girl?”

“You,” I gasp.

You grin. “Be specific, love.”

Unfair, because I want it all, all of you, but I obey and whimper: “Fuck me, Daddy.”

Before I know it, I’m turned around. Bent over, pants pulled down. You drive your entire length into me with one thrust. I gasp, struggling to accommodate you. There’s no lube, and normally quite a bit more foreplay than today. Even then, my gasp turns into a moan within seconds. It simply feels thát good when you’re fucking me.

I hear the metal of your buckle, but before I comprehend the meaning of that sound, the leather of your belt strikes my ass. I stuff my fist in my mouth to keep myself quiet. Another hit and I moan loudly, despite my fist’s best efforts. You chuckle and strike me again. I can feel my orgasm building, both pain and pleasure flooding my nervous system. You hit me a fourth time and I break; I arch my back and let out a scream. One more hit and I’ll cum. My mind is hazy, legs shaking in anticipation.

Instead of feeling your belt sting my ass, it’s suddenly wrapped around my neck. You pull on it slightly, making me hold the uncomfortable curve in my back. Worse yet, you’re now fucking me slowly and shallowly. I groan and try to move back into you to feel more of you, deeper. However, your other hand is on my hip, keeping me firmly in place.

The pressure on my neck, the sting where your belt hit my ass, the tip of your cock teasing me, the orgasm I was barreling towards that’s now just out of reach… It’s like my mind’s splitting in two. I can’t think anymore. Need and desire are all I have left.

I whine, desperately trying to fuck you back. “Oh babygirl, you’re used to being pounded, aren’t you?” Your voice is laced with desire, restraint and something close to admiration. But my mind is truly gone, so instead of answering, I just whine louder.

“Fuck,” you breathe as you pull me up by the belt around my neck until I’m fully upright. You drop the belt and clasp your hand over my mouth.

“Go on then, little one,” you whisper in my ear just before you push my head back down by my chin.

You wait.

I whimper, twisting my body. Desperate to feel you.

“Cum for me,” you grunt, and you slam into me.

I explode. My eyes roll back, the orgasm ripping through me. You keep fucking me, hard, prolonging my climax. My knees give in, but you’ve got me, pounding me still, while my brain taps out.