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Yes, Daddy?
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2023-07-31 15:17:00Jumping, I would have fallen forward without the chain. The whip hits my ass, making me moan. That is why he has the lead held tight. When he whipped me, my body flew forward. If he didn’t have hold, I would have gone. Moaning, I stay bent over, waiting. His silence makes the anticipation higher. I feel myself slowly slip into my subspace, my mind clearing of everything.
Jumping from the sting of the whip, I moan. I can’t help but smile, knowing that just a few rooms away his favourite whip is waiting to be opened.
The whip continues to hit, my moans growing as they get harder. My mind reminds me of the cameras. As panic rises inside me at the thought of people watching, it is quickly muted as the rest of me craves it, craves knowing what they would do with me, and what they were thinking about watching me. His whip hits again, hard. Moaning, I almost fall forward again, the collar holding me in place.
His hand strokes up my back, the
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Waking up with the familiar scream, my body instantly reacts to the dream, trying to stop myself, but I can’t. Walking down the stairs, I feel a sense of change: something in the dream has changed. I can feel my body stiffen up as the phone rings. The same voice, the same words, everything is the same. A vision shows Jackson standing there and I hear the sound of the gun. I see him falling to the floor. Just as I do, I scream, trying to wake up. I can’t wake up. I’m lying on the floor screaming, the image of Jackson bleeding in my mind yet I can’t get to him. Why has the dream changed? Why Jackson and why now? My body lurches upwards, still screaming. Jackson’s hands are shaking me as if he is trying to wake me. Marcus is standing at the door. My whole body is cold and shaking. If there is anything worse than the dream of me being shot and unable to wake, it is Jackson being shot and me being unable to wake from it. My body automatically goes to get out the bed and check on the
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“No sight or sound, Kitten, not for this.” His hands slide up my neck and put in the earpieces, making the whole place fall quiet. He is talking, I know he is. His lips are kissing mine. Moaning, my hands go to wrap around him and pull him to me. Hands stop me - not Jackson’s because his are still on my neck; Marcus’s hands. I feel the rope wrap around them tightly. The rope pulls on the skin. Jackson moves away, his hands releasing me. The rope pulls, guiding me to walk. My hands are lifted up and I feel the rope being tied around the bar above my head. Marcus’s hands slide down my arms. A moan escapes my lips at the feel of his touch. His fingers run over my shoulders and collarbone down to my breasts. His hands grasp them both. Moaning, I try pushing them closer to them. The feel of the clamps going onto them is one I enjoy. Marcus still grasps them tight, so Jackson is the one putting the clamps on. Once on, the feel of rope
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