“Oh, Daddy,” she moaned, pushing her bottom back towards him when his finger left her panting. She’d been so close to soaring off the mountain; his attentions had her climbing only to be left standing on the precipice of the abyss.
“Steady now. Daddy’s not done.” And he wasn’t. His next destination the globes of the bottom she’d shoved into greater prominence though this scrubbing wasn’t anywhere near as delicious as the former. Her spanking had assured that she’d be tender for a few hours, and the rubbing of the cloth against her flesh seemed to be reigniting the burn from her punishment. Knowing it would not do to complain as she’d earned that tender ass herself, she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out, slamming her eyes shut when a finger slid into the crevice of her bottom.
“Relax,” Dalton said softly, “let your cheeks hang loose so that Daddy can properly wash your sweet little heinie hole.”
God, he had a way with words that instantly enflamed her…the heat flooding her facial cheeks and moving through every cell of her body. She was an attorney. She’d been using multi-syllable words and complicated paragraphs full of legalese for years, and yet not a single turn of phrase affected her as these two little words did. It took conscious effort not only to obey but to stifle her moan of pleasure as what she’d always considered private was penetrated by a cloth covered digit. Proper ladies didn’t acknowledge the existence of this dark, hidden orifice much less derive pleasure from what was considered taboo. And yet, none of that mattered to her daddy. He would do as he wished, pursue what he desired with a passion that mimicked the drive which had made him an incredibly successful, wealthy man.
“That’s my good little girl,” he said, having long dropped the washcloth to press the full length of his middle finger into her bottom. “I’ll have you nice and clean in just a minute, won’t I, babygirl?”
“Ye…yes, Daddy,” she whispered, her teeth biting a bit harder into her lip when a second finger joined the first. When he began to to scissor his fingers, stretching her little hole, forcing it to relax, she whimpered, the burn both painful and pleasurable, the taboo of the act causing her tummy to flip, her sex to spasm and her heart to hammer. Was he preparing her to have her bottom invaded by something else, something much longer, much thicker than the fingers he had buried inside her back passage? Even when he popped his fingers free, though she felt grateful, she also felt empty, not that she’d ever in a million years admit that to him. It was simply not a subject she cared to discuss.
After steadying her to sit again, Dalton washed her hair and then helped her to stand as he reached to flip the toggle, allowing the water to begin to drain. “Hmm, let’s take care of that little fuzz as well.” She stood, shivering a bit with the chill of the air against her heated skin as he moved away only to return with the shaving equipment.
When they’d first begun to live the dynamic of age-play, she’d discovered he intended to keep her smooth and bare. The first time he’d reached for shaving equipment, she’d held her hands over her private parts, the sight of the straight edge razor causing her to tremble. She’d instantly proclaimed that she was more than willing to spend her lunch hour at a nearby spa where she could be waxed. She’d even assured him that waxing would last far longer than shaving. Her daddy had just grinned and shaken his head.
“Little girls do not go to spas alone, and they most certainly do not let some stranger touch their kitty. Shaving your fuzzies is Daddy’s responsibility, and one he derives a great deal of pleasure from.” That declaration had been the end of the discussion. And, just like the first time, he gave her a quick rinse with the hand-held sprayer to remove the bubbles clinging to her skin and then lifted her to sit on a towel he’d pulled from the warming bar and placed on the wide table that had been custom crafted for the large master bathroom. It provided a sturdy surface for Dalton to arrange his girl into various positions at a height that made it easy for him to attend to her needs.
“Knees up and legs spread nice and wide,” he instructed as he began to whip up a lather in the antique shaving mug he always used for this ritual.
Would she ever, just once be able to obey without her face feeling as if it were on fire? Pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her hands around her ankles, she allowed her legs to fall open. Her hands remained in place, keeping her legs from closing as she presented the very core of her femininity to this man. As he set aside the lather-filled mug to run the straight edge razor that had been in his family for generations across the leather strop several times, she felt her freshly scrubbed pussy begin to fill with moisture. How something that would have feminists all over the world screaming foul could arouse her so very much was a mystery she knew she’d never solve. He used the strop to not only sharpen the blade but had often used it to stripe her backside. It too was a product crafted decades before, its leather strong and yet supple enough to wrap around the curves of her ass to teach a naughty girl a lesson whether she be of this era or one eons past.
“Good girl. Now this will tickle a bit,” he teased, again picking up the shaving brush. She gasped as he began to apply the soapy froth to her mound, her legs trembling a bit when he swirled its bristles between her labia lips, coating her clit with lather even as he concealed the fuzz of her pubic hair with the thick cream. “Don’t move,” he warned before he placed the razor against her flesh. Drawing her bottom lip once more between her teeth, she watched as he carefully swiped the lather from her body, leaving a smooth line amidst the mountain of lather. Stroke after stroke had her pubis becoming fuzz free and her arousal dripping to mix with the shaving cream. Soft moans slipped past her lips as he cleaned the blade after every pass.
“Okay, to the edge, sweetie. You know what to do.”
She released her legs as she sat up to scoot her bottom to the edge of the table. With the soles of her feet planted flat on the table, Dalton helped her to lie back. Her hands no longer held her legs though she once again spread them wide. Instead, they moved to grip the globes of her tender ass to pull them apart. Required participation in the ritual only added to the naughty feeling of the act as she felt the brush swirl over her anus. A few careful strokes of the razor assured that not a single follicle was left behind. When Dalton grinned and bent forward, his tongue swiping along the divide that she presented so wantonly, she shuddered. But when his tongue pushed into her heinie hole, its passage made far easier by his fingers’ earlier attention, she moaned and her pussy gushed. Lids closed over cerulean blue eyes as the sensations overtook her. His tongue probed, pushed in and out of her anus, leaving her slick and on the edge of splintering apart.
“Pl…please,” she stammered, her need ratcheting up with every plunge and extraction. Her desire bloomed with every lick of his tongue as it traveled over her perineum, through her sodden sex to return for another dip into her dark passage. “Oh…please, Daddy.”
He pleasured/tortured her for several minutes, not allowing her to find her release as her nipples tightened into hard points, her chest heaved with her panting, and her fingers trembled to maintain the spread required by her daddy. Only when he was ready did his head lift, his chin glistening with her juices, the tongue he’d buried deep within her sex licking along his lips to consume her essence. “Forgive me,” he said, his eyes reflecting the desire she knew was within hers, “it’s rude of Daddy to start enjoying his dessert before it’s time.”
“I-I don’t mind,” she said. “It’s okay, Daddy.”
He chuckled but straightened completely, signaling that he was the one in control. Holding out his arms, she sighed but released her cheeks to reach for him, snuggling into his chest. “You’re trembling,” he said, pulling another thick towel off the warming rack and wrapping it around her. “I’d feel horrible if you caught a chill while I indulged myself.”
She knew that while there might be some truth in that statement, if he truly wished to keep her spread open on the table, he would. No, this was just another act in the play they shared. He sat on the vanity bench, positioning her so that she straddled his knees facing away as he picked up the brush. Despite her arousal that threatened to consume her, with each stroke of the brush, she relaxed a bit more. The warmth of the air from the hair-dryer helped keep her from becoming chilled, the exposure due to the spread required with her position keeping her arousal evident as she could not only feel herself leaking onto his trousers, she could smell her scent caused by her lust filling the air. Knowing that she couldn’t control her body’s reaction due to the sensations this man was capable of making her feel, she sank fully into submission. He might spank her, he might tease her, he might torture her until she’d offer him anything if allowed to come but she knew that he owned her heart and held her soul in the palms of his hands.
And she wouldn’t change a single thing.
Chapter Five
Clicking off the hair dryer, Dalton ran his hands through the length of Colette’s hair. Warm tresses slid through his fingers, soft curls straightening with a slight pull only to spring back into curls when released. He loved the texture of her hair as much as he loved the color. Copper and gold combined with red evoked visions of the sunset or the glow of embers in a fire. He loved everything about her hair, from the way it draped over her body, covering her breasts, giving him delightful little peeks at her pebbled nipples to how it would shield her face when she was draped over his lap getting her bottom spanked. He also loved fisting handfuls of it to guide her head down the length of his erection when she was attending to him with her sweet mouth, or pulling her head back to nibble on her neck when she was on her hands and knees, his cock ramming in and out of her pussy. Her soft sigh and the relaxing of her body against him made him again acknowledge how very honored he was to be the man she’d not only married but had chosen to submit to. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the scent of baby shampoo combined with the delicious scent of her arousal that was all her own.