It's the way he touches you. it's the way he always smells of cherry tobacco, sweets, shaving cream; a scent only he can pull off. It's the way he's coaxing you to bed when he walks in through the door. He's began to fiddle with his tie already, loosening it before beckoning you with his finger. And you, the faithful pet, are always so willing to follow. He has you under his spell, the batter wizard has bewitched you and you are compelled to him. So you follow him up the stairs when you are called. Your heart is racing, pounding, because you know what he wants, and some part of you has a guilty pleasure of giving it to him.
So when he does get you into his room you are more than ready for what he wishes for you. He has discarded his tie to the bed. His shirt already halfway done. You're all gooseflesh and quivers at the mere thought of what that body can do for you, do to you.
" ..." you breath, and as expected he is quick to correct you.
"Daddy, darling. Call me Daddy."
And you don't know why you are so willing to abide by his request but you do. The word is breathed out in a pre-excited gasp of 'Daddy~', and it sounds so needy it scares you a bit. But you don't run from him, you never run from him, you love him. So, as is expected, you stay in your place and you prepare yourself to obey, like the good 'Darling Baby' you are. Soon, you feel his hand brush along your jaw, and that alone is enough to make your teeth chatter. You breath in to steady yourself. His hands find the small of your back and he guides you to wrap your legs around his waist. You do as coaxed. And he is so strong. He can lift a safe, of course he is strong. You never doubt his strength because could brake your body in the worst of ways, but he never does, and you know it is because he loves you far too much.
He carries you over to the bed, lies you out. It no longer worries you, the way he goes through this. You have lain with his beast, danced with his devils, become an angel among them, though he has clipped your wings. You don't need to fly, the flames of hell he ignites with you are beyond all compare. You present yourself too him and he begins to remove your clothing, starting with your shirt, then continues on to kiss your body, worshipping you in a fashion only a lover can.
He kisses over your chest and you keen with such need it would brake the hearts of weaker men. His tongue is agile, finding its place upon the pinkened nubs of your sensitive flesh, and you are all but his as you melt. He molds you with his hands, gliding and groping along sides and hip bone. You're helpless to his attempts. Strong hands find their way down as he kisses over the center of your ribs. Then his lips find the spot above your navel and you let out a loud and embarrassing sound, making your face flush and fluster. And he has to remind you he has neighbors and his hands find the tie he had recently discarded to the bed. You know what is coming, he's done it to you before. You watch his agile hands work the magical knots into the center of it.
He holds the crisp and ever well kept tie to your lips, and you obey his indications, opening your mouth to accept the make shift gag. It presses to the back of your teeth, pressing your tongue down. It goes without saying now that your moans will be muffled from this point on. Then the oldest Egbert begins to work his way back down your body, forcing whines and muffled pleads from you. As is expected he ignores them. Finally he reaches your bottoms and anything you may be wearing beneath them. He slowly removes them and you feel the cold air of the bedroom hit your sex. You shudder.
As he lowers yourself between your legs you keen, coaxing him on as well as you can. You know not to use your hands. They stay near the sides of your head. You know the punishment for touching him. You don't want to upset him tonight. You the good submissive you were trained to be. You stay still. Then you feel it. He begins to suck and lick at your sex and it forces your back to arch. Your body is far too attuned to him, and this scares you, but you don't run, you never run. The way his mouth moves, his tongue moves, hot and moist against you; how intoxicating can it be before it's mind numbing. You give yourself to him, as he has asked of you. You are but a molding clay shaped by his body.
His tongue dances over you like a snake in water, bringing your flesh to a raised state. You begin to quiver, start to shake. He knows it is too much and he never stops. It would be a lie to say you don't enjoy it. The way he works you is skilled and practiced, but so very fluid. It wouldn't surprise you if it was a natural gift he had. And soon he has you crying out against the tie gag, the fabric drying your tongue, and your eyes begin to water. The way your legs lock and you begin to moan against the knot indicates an oncomming climax. He stops. He won't let you have it, he never lets you have it. Not yet. You enjoy all of the torture however and you never complain.
Then you have to watch as he declothes. He unbuttons each and every button of his work shirt, and it's too slow for your taste, but you don't help because touching him without permission is grounds for 'grounding'. So you watch as his strong torso is revealed to you. You long for it, each and every chissled muscle that coaxes your urg to feel the. But you don't soon enough you will feel them rippling against you as he uses you to pleasure himself, and you know the wait will be worth it. Then he removes it, discarding it to the floor. His hands run over his strong body only to tease and torture you more, because you want it, and he knows you want it. He enjoys seeing you so needy, so excited, so beaten. Then he finds his belt and he undoes it, sliding it out of its loops. The sound of leather on fabric slicing the semi-silence of the room.
He uses the belt to create makeshift hand cuffs, and you have to admit that he is creative. He latches you to the head of the bed and you arch your back, because you know what he will be doing soon, and you wait with as much patience you can muster. Then he undoes his slacks, sliding them off his hips, along with the gray boxers he wears underneath. His excited muscle is just as impressive as the rest of him; you have no doubt that he could break you. In some twisted way it excites you. He's ruined you for anyone else and you find you don't care. This is as close as two people can get, this is a point of true trust.
The elder man reaches over to the dresser drawer, retrieving a bottle, and he uses this to lather his hand in the lubricant. Your chest is heaving, your heart is racing, you feel dizzy. You need this, you need him, there is no denial now. He warms the liquid in his palm and slowly spreads it over your entrance, making sure you are ready for him, and you have never been so ready in your whole life. You hear your own heart beat in your ears and watch as he spreads the excess over his muscle. Like the good 'baby' you are you spread your legs for him. He lines himself up with you and for a moment you lose sight. It's all white light as you call out loudly against the knotted work tie in your mouth.
Your lover, your Master, now burried inside you he begins to pump with his strong hips. You are left to whine and keen beneath him, gripping the leather of the belt that keeps your hands bound to the headboard. You can feel his member brushing and stroking along your inner walls, skilled to hit any spots that send jostles throughout you. His hands move along your body in feathering touches that leave you yearning for him. And soon, when he begins to pick up speed, you can feel him hit the sweet spots within you. You arch, your legs move up, dragging your feet along the back of his warm thighs until they are latched behind them. Using the strength behind them you force him in further. It's all blank light from there.
The feeling of your body quaking, sight now a thing of the past, the smell of cherries, shaving cream, after shave, and cake engulfing you. And you realease with a muffled cry against dry, crisp, black material. Your muscles tighten and you are thrown into a cunvulsing overthrow of bliss and heart throbbing climax. You feel yourself tighten around the girth within you and he calls out your name, though you can just barely hear it through your shaken state. With a few more well placed thrusts you can feel him fill you, and you are satisfied with this alone.
The room is filled with panting and huffing, both parties attempting against all odds to catch their breath. Slowly he removes himself from your crevice and takes the tie from your mouth to allow you to breath. As your lips connect he parts yours with his tongue, moistening your dry mouth and his hands free yours from the post. He kisses each wrist and lays next to you, rubbing along your chest and stomach.
"Are you quite alright my, love?" He asks in such a way that can only mean he cares for your health.
"I-I'm fine, Daddy." You force through racking breaths and flush at the title he has many a time had to reteach you.
You both lay together after such. You once again find yourself nuzzling against him to take in his scent, so distinct to him, as though it is a finger print.
The next morning you wake to the smell of eggs and bacon. You know he must have woken before you and is cooking breakfast. On the bedside stand he has placed a glass of water and an aprin for you with a note.
GOOD MORNING DARLING PLEASE TAKE THESE AND REST FOR AS LONG AS YOU NEED BEFORE COMING DOWN FOR BREAKFAST. YOURS TRULY, JAMES
You smile inspite of yourself and take the pill, resting on the bed for a while longer.