You ordered me to my room, telling me to stand naked in the corner with my hands on my head, and to come downstairs when you called. I couldn't figure out what you were doing but I knew better than to ask any questions. I ran upstairs, my body hurting in places I didn't know it could hurt, though at the same time I liked the hurt. I waited, standing in the corner with my hands on my head, naked as you said, then began hearing noises from downstairs. Mickey was here! My heart skipped a beat at the very thought of him, while at the same time wondering what he was doing here. Then I heard you calling my name, and I ran down the stairs, stopping at the bottom when I saw Mickey naked and bent over your desk like I had been, and you were using the cane on his bum. . . He was trying his hardest not to make a sound; I guess you had told him the same thing you always tell me, that if he made a sound the punishment would double, and I knew he wouldn't want that. Heck, he didn't want what he was getting now!You told me to go around so that Mickey could see me, and I knew from the look on Mickey's face I was a surprise. . . or shock. Mickey was really embarrassed; he didn't want me seeing him getting caned. I noticed something else too; his dingle dangle was stiff, just like it was just before we. .
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. fucked. "Tell my little girl what it means when your cock is stiff and you are being caned, Michael," you growled, striking his bum even harder when he hesitated. "It means I like it. " Mickey flinched again because you hit him even harder. "I'm enjoying being hit by your father, being punished," he groaned. "Much better. We're going to turn you into a pain slut as well, it would seem," you said before ordering Mickey to his knees. "Unzip me. I want my little girl to see what a good cock sucker you've turned out to be. " The look on Mickey's face was one of horror, and yet I got the feeling he wanted to show me at the same time. I watched as Mickey sucked your dingle dangle, then you grabbed his head and it was like you were face-fucking him, and he wasn't pulling away.
He was. . .
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enjoying it. Then you rammed yourself deep into Mickey's throat, so he couldn't breathe, and told him to swallow it all. Mickey nodded slightly to show he understood, and swallowed everything you had to give him. I guessed it was the gunk that Mickey shot into me, into my little hole, whenever we . . . fucked. When you pulled out, you still had his head in your hands, so he wasn't able to move as he swallowed the final load of gunk. "You enjoyed that, didn't you Mickey?" you asked quietly. "Yes sir, I enjoyed it very much," he replied, and he wasn't just saying the words. It really seemed that he'd enjoyed what you had done, and were doing, to him. "Little girl, get on the desk now, on your hands and knees, your arse facing Mickey," you ordered, smiling when I quickly obeyed. "Mickey is going to put his fist inside you, just like I did this afternoon, and while he's doing this I'm going to give you 18 strokes with the cane on each of your arse cheeks. Do you understand, girl?" I nodded, though I didn't want 18 with the cane anywhere. From past experience, though, I realized that making any kind of protest would double the punishment, so I had to agree.
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Mickey slowly pushed in one finger, then two, then three, and so on until the whole of his hand was inside me. Then you ordered him to fistfuck me, to make me cum while he caned me. You added that if I didn't cum by the end of the caning it would be his arse to be fistfucked next, and that it would not be as gentle as Mickey was being with me. Then you leant over and whispered into my ear, so that Mickey couldn't hear, that if I came I'd be caned another 100 times on each butt cheek and on my cunt! Mickey said that he understood, and began to fistfuck me to a rhythm he knew would get me to cum. At the same time the caning started, and it hurt, and I wanted to scream and yell for you to stop, but you didn't. You wouldn't. Half way through you bent over and asked me if I'd cum yet. I shook my head, knowing that if I tried to speak it would just come out in a yell or something. "Pity," you said, then began caning my other bum cheek, with Mickey still fisting me. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, but you didn'tseem to care. You were going to have your fun with Mickey and me, and no one would stop you. No one would dare. Mickey didn't know you'd ordered me not to cum and was trying his hardest to make me cum. He couldn't figure out why I wasn't cumming like he could usually make me. He probably thought it was because I was being fisted; I know Mickey and how he thinks.
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You gave me the last strike on the second butt cheek and asked me if I had cum yet. With tears streaming down my face I shook my head, "No daddy, I haven't.
" Of course, you knew that already, and you told Mickey to take his hand from my cunt so that I could move away and Mickey could take my place. You asked him if he'd ever been fucked in the arse and Mickey shook his head. 'No sir' You suddenly whacked him with the cane and said that he was about to be fucked in the arse with your fist, and that he'd better enjoy it, or else. . . . Mickey and I both knew what 'or else' meant - definitely something unpleasant. You told Mickey to spread his cheeks wide and not to make a sound, reminding him that if he did something would happen. I didn't know what that was, but it seemed to terrify Mickey, and he nodded his understanding. Without warning you rammed your entire fist into Mickey's arse hole. Mickey couldn't stop himself letting out a yell, begging you to stop. The look on his face when he realised he'd made a sound is one I'll never forget. His eyes closed briefly when you told him to pick up the phone and dial, and he obeyed while you continued to ravage his arse.
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"Mum, Michael here, Mr. McMasters wants to see you, now. " He somehow managed to speak in an almost normal voice, though how he did I will never know. I remained where I'd been ordered to stand, wondering what you wanted with Mickey's mother, and missed the rest of the conversation. When Mickey hung up the phone I noticed that his dingle dangle was harder than I'd ever seen it. I asked him in some surprise: "Do you like what daddy is doing to you?"You indicated to Mickey that he must tell me the truth, and he nodded, saying: "Yes, I love it. ""You think I'd like it too?" I asked in a whisper. Somehow I needed to know. "I think you'll enjoy it even more than I do, girl. . . do you like your cunt fisted?" Mickey whispered back, with a grimace. . . "Sir, may I cum please?" he implored desperately.
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"Cum in the glass next to you, slut" was your reply, and to my amazement, while you were still fisting Mickey's bum, he took the glass and held it in such a position that he could cum into it. . . two seconds later he was cumming and cumming. "Give it to my girl. Now remember, you must swallow it all without stopping," you said to me as I took the glass and drank obediently. Just then there was a knock on the door. . . Mickey's mummy. .
