Domestic bliss, harsher kiss.

Off the clock. (Ongoing)

I was barely through the door when I felt your arms wrapped around my chest tight, floral scents that swirled through my senses as you did. Something in me decompressed, but then I supposed that was the point. "Hey, hold on I gotta start cooking." Letting you disentangle yourself, I watched you bounce on your bare feet back around the aisle, Nearly tripping along the way.

Suppressing the urge to mock, I Turned away and worked my way to the couch, not quite realizing how my body ached with each step until that moment. It was with a plupth of escaping air, I slumped into the couch and navigated the remote lazily, my eyes barely open.

With the smallest of sighs, I sat up, the tv droning away as I wrestled each boot off. I leaned back again, eying you as you shuffled through the kitchen cupboards. your neckline marked and bruised with pretty little constellations. I had been cruel that morning, waking you with my lips slightest pressure, nibbles and licks and kisses along your neck, only to pull you below the blanket and pump your throat.

Perhaps that explained my warm welcome, I had left you needy, much less without permission to solve it yourself. Yet, I was surprised you had never asked for permission, no text, no call. While it wasn't impossible you simply... weren't in a mood, I couldn't imagine it likely, and as I watched, it was with a sadistic joy I realized it was something else entirely. Pride.

Slowly I had noticed the subtle irritation, the way you had withdrawn from your violent hug so quickly, your intensive attempt to avoid looking at me barring a moment where you glanced at me over a pot, only to catch my eyes and hurriedly snap back to your cupboard. Cute. I knew what this was, and as I watched you reaching up for a pot, your sun dress hiking up, I knew you were far too prideful today to ask for what you wanted.

Holding up my hand, I snapped crisply, eliciting only the smallest of a glance away from your activities before you returned to them. Now I was certain, you weren't going to make this easy on yourself.

The tv couldn't be less interesting now, I snapped my fingers again and this time, even a glance was not provided, your back turned as you pulled a pan out. 'Fine, have it your way' I thought, and so I rose from the couch, enjoying the slightest glimpse of wary nervousness in your eyes as I did, you knew exactly what was expected when I summoned you. Luckily for you, or unluckily, I was in the mood to prolong things.

Taking a left turn, the sounds of the dishes resumed as I tread into our room. Grabbing the computer and shedding my layers of work clothes, opting for simple sweatpants and a tee before returning to the couch. For a moment, I ignored you again, fully conscious of the glance you shot me as I did. Poor thing, i could feel your indignant irritation like a ray of heat even from here. Opening the laptop, I logged in before turning towards you, snapping my fingers one final time.

No reaction, not even a glimpse. Undeniably rude. It wasn't likely you heard me walk behind you, only seemingly realizing I had moved as you turned, The step forward you had taken before left you bounced you off my frame slight-like. I gave you the smallest moment of silence, enjoying the view, your mischievous eyes darting, tinged with nervousness before disappearing entirely as you ducked your head. "you know what it means when I snap my fingers?"

I had trained you so much better than this, and with a jerk, I grabbed your jaw and forced your eyes up, wide as they were. "You know better than this". I saw no break in your eyes, no sign that you were ready to be good. Fine, fine, fine, have it your way. It was like you wanted to be slapped. Disrespectful, but un-ignorable. The slap was hard, harder than I think you expected, driving you to the floor. It was the second slap that broke the silence as a panicked little "thank you sir" squeezed out of your mouth.

Taking only a moment to make sure the stove was off, I lifted you up by the back of your neck, my fingers wrapped right around, covering those pretty little aforementioned hickeys. Without much consideration, I dragged you to the couch and forced you to down until you lay flat on your belly below me as I sat. Your breath ragged and sweet as I leaned forward and watched you struggle beneath my foot on the small of your back.

You hadn't expected this, no you certainly had not, but then it was important to remind you why rules existed I supposed. I waited for your cute squirming to cease before speaking again, "what do I expect with a snap" I asked, your little voice responding clear if somewhat nervous, "I'm to come to you" you answered.

You were far too clever to not know what i'd ask next. "I didn't hear you, daddy." Perhaps... not as clever as I thought. I held your gaze, saying nothing. Instead, letting you feel the weight of your lie as you lay humiliated on the floor. Slipping down my sweats, I pulled you up, giving you no time to squeal, protest or otherwise before forcing my shaft down your throat.

I was merciless, forcibly applying pressure to your nape as the head of my cock slid along your tongue before brushing the back of your throat. With each hand I took a pony tail, wrapping the length of each side around each fist as your feet kicked softly in protest behind you. Pushing deeper, I let my cock rest inside for a few moments, watching your eyes roll back and your face redden. You would have no mercy today.

All at once I let go and let you fall backwards, gasping and grasping for balance as precum and saliva coated your chin. "Stay". I was pleased to see you didn't seem to have any intention of doing anything but. Grabbing two water bottles from the kitchen and sitting back, i caressed you for a moment. My fingers running along your cheek as you breathed heavy. I would give you only a few moments to recover, I had plans after all.

"Turn around, log into your account, or the only way I'll play with your cunt is if you're already passed out from the gagging". Your mouth opened as if to protest, but seemingly you thought better of it. Instead, you did as told, logging in to your only fans as I began to strip you. "What do you want me to do, sir", ignoring you, I flipped you around, positioning the camera so as to showcase your holes and re-forcing myself down your throat, and with that, I began to set the OF to record live. "Finger yourself, if you're a good girl, you might get permission to be filled up tonight."

Two, six, ten, sixteen. I watched the viewers rise as I idly used your pigtails to slide you up and down my shaft. Pulling you up, I waited for you to finish gasping before speaking. "Why are you fingering my property on cam." This you knew, a question and humiliation you were well used to at this point. "I made it too difficult for my holes to be used sir." Shoving you back down, I closed my eyes, your moans reverberating along my shaft.

There was a desperation in the way you licked and gagged. You knew this wasn't your punishment, as if I'd let you get away with simply taking your punishment and nothing more. You knew me far too well.

Pulling you deeper, I couldn't help but groan as I emptied every drop down your throat, a drop for every view. I turned off the camera as you furtively fingered yourself on the floor. You were almost oblivious, up until your legs buckled beneath you, your thighs shaking. Your face covered in cum, your mascara long since ruined.

After a moment, you looked at me. "Go get your paddle". I had to admit, your behavior was improving by the minute.