My phone alarm wakes me up. The bright screen blasts 6 am into my sleepy eyes. I started cussing under my breath right away. I hate early mornings.
I got out of bed started for the shower, walking past my couch and seeing the mess we had made there last night. Guess it’s going to be a cleaning day later.
Ooh, a good excuse to break out a sexy little maid’s outfit to prance around in all day, I thought to myself.
Then I remembered. Oh my gosh, Daddy is staying at my house all week. I could just imagine him coming home tonight finding me here in my maid’s uniform, standing meek and humble, offering my body to him in a graphically enticing way. I could just see him taking hold of me, his hands mauling my body, running over my curves, touching my skin, searching, probing, squeezing…
Fuck, snap out of it. I’ve been awake for two minutes and I’m already narrating my own private porno in my head.
Stop being a dumb slut for five minutes, I thought to myself as I shuffled off to the bathroom. I got undressed and glanced in the mirror, seeing the aftermath of what Daddy did to my poor neck last night.
His hand prints were clear as day. I looked like someone tried to strangle me. His outline of his hands were crushed into my skin and turning purple and blue, with red irritated skin glowing around each finger imprint.
Well this is not the first time I've had to use cover up on my bruises. I hopped in the shower, searching my mind for why I let this keep happening to me but knowing I couldn't stop now even if I wanted to.
An hour later and I’m on the road. I dressed casually, realizing it’s early morning and people out and about don’t want to see some white trash slut dressed like she was working a shift on Figueroa Street. Low rise stretchy black pants and a too short white t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination with what was going on with my chest. Some sneakers and a jacket, and I just became another commuter on the road.
The guy’s house I was going to wasn’t too far, about 20 mins away. I was surprised I didn’t see him more often considering how near we lived, but this Daddy wasn’t like my others. He was younger, in his 20s, some sort of professional. From all the things that decorated his frat-like bachelor pad, it was obvious he had a very active social life so probably just didn’t have time for someone like me very often.
The other men in my life were older, had come to terms with certain things, and had no misgivings about what they were doing. There was nothing gay about fucking me, I was as bitch as bitches come. Nothing about me was manly or made a man question what he was doing. I had shaped and molded my body to show I was nothing but a soft, eager, feminized play thing.
This Daddy I had met by happen chance about a year back. I was bored so I had taken a night shift job at a hotel near the interstate, part time just as something to pass the time and see some people other than just the black men climbing on top of me every day. Not that I’m complaining, but sometimes I need some conversation that doesn’t end with a dick rooting around in my booty.
He was a guest one night and I checked him in, tapping away on the front desk computer. I had failed to keep my hair pulled down around my neck and he noticed the spade tattoo there. He started chatting about tattoos and asked me about mine.
I didn’t know how much to say. I mean this is real life, this guy is just trying to get in his room for the night, not get harassed by some little femboi pervert behind the counter replaying every BNWO propaganda video in his head while taking in this fine black man’s body with my desperate eyes.
I told him I got it for someone I had hooked up with long ago. He asked me if I had any others and I reluctantly showed him the pink heart on my right upper arm, the tattoo I hated the most. People may not know what the spade symbolizes, but everyone knows what a soft boy with a pink heart on his upper arm means.
I had hoped that would end the conversation, but he just looked at me and lifted an expectant eye, so I told him I had one more. I glanced at him real quick and said, “It’s on my bottom.”
He didn’t really react too much, still that same friendly smirk and gently taunting look. Meanwhile I’m blushing so hard my face is practically on fire.
“So did you get all of them for the same guy, or for different ones?”
Guy? Well, there was no pretending now. He definitely knew.
Like I could hide it, I thought to myself.
So I told him about it, another spade the size of an orange on my upper cheek. Then he asked what the spade meant and why that guy gave me two of them.
It was pretty obvious at this point that we both knew the game and were each playing our part. But it was still fun to feign innocence, teetering on the edge of fantasy and reality.
I looked up at him and whispered, “Daddy says it shows everyone I’m black owned.”
He starts laughing out loud while I’m standing there feeling my face burn off with shame. My heart is pounding in my chest so hard it almost hurts. This is what I crave. This is what I yearn for all the time. The mind-shattering humiliation that floods my brain with dopamine and rewires my pleasure center, getting me hooked on it, getting me addicted to the high, numbing me to it and making me always need more, always chasing the fix, one degrading action after the other.
He regains his composure and leans towards the counter a bit. I can smell his scent waft towards me, his cologne or body wash or whatever it was, mixed with the smell of a man, and when I breathed it in my head started swimming.
Oh, no, I thought. Not again. Not at work. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. Stop being such a slut. Stop it!
“Prove your Daddy right. Show me,” He says, in no way a question.
I just looked at him, bewildered. Show him? Where? Here???
He nods his head towards the back office and I didn’t say a word, I just lowered my eyes and walked around to the door, unlocked it and allowed him behind the counter. He followed me into the tiny office and started undoing his pants.
No pretense here, I knew what he wanted. Our hands fought with each other trying to get his pants off, me trying to grab the belt, him pushing my hand away when I’m taking too long, me trying not to break my nails on his zipper.
Damn it, why are boy’s pants so hard to get off? All my clothes just come right off with a hard tug.
His cock sprang free and bounced in front of my face, teasing me with every throb. He had had enough of my silly hands and pulled them up over my head, crossing my wrists and holding them tight with one hand. He took aim at my mouth and stepped towards me, letting my mouth engulf him.
He let me do what I clearly wanted to do, my hands held high, no other choice for me anyway. So I did what I loved to do, and the noises coming from his throat were telling me he liked it.
This didn’t last too long, and he pulled me up onto my feet by my arms and spun me around and bent me down over the manager’s cold metal desk, exposing my little bottom to him. I was wearing a hot pink thong tonight, pulled up onto my hips in a sexy whale tail, my spade tattoo peeking out over my low cut pants. My clothes were supposed to cover all of this to guests, but I guess we’re past all that now.
He groped around on my jiggly cheeks, mumbling something about some tasty cake and making my face burn with shame all over again, and started tugging on my pants, the stretchy material sliding over my butt and hitting the floor, keeping my ankles trapped. He gave my bottom a few good slaps and I could feel the fire rushing into my cheeks. I wiggled my butt at him enticingly and he pulled my thong up out of my crack and stretched it up out of the way, exposing my little pink rose bud to him, the lips clearly swollen and stretched and begging it, winking at him a vulgar invitation and promising a soft fit.
I wasn’t plugged. I wasn’t lubed. I had tried my hardest to get him as wet as possible with my mouth, but with my hands held up like that I didn’t have enough time to get it get it good and sticky.
I felt his fingers rub up against my little pink hole, just rubbing around it. I could feel something wet, so at least I knew he used a little spit. Then the feeling of his fingers disappeared and were replaced with the familiar feeling of an angry cock head trying to work it’s way inside me.
He pushed hard and even with no lube my little hole couldn’t resist him. It hurt, it burned as he pushed it inside me, bottoming out in one quick, determined thrust, crushing my body into the desk. My hole was aching, clenching over and over, trying to adjust to this intruder as he kept rocking his hips deep against me, trying to find the deepest spot with every push.
Then he fucked me, right there on that cold desk. Hard and fast, not caring at all about me, just trying to get his relief, just using my body to jerk off his horny cock.
After a few minutes he grips my hips hard and lets loose, spilling his seed in my belly, holding onto me so tight, his fingers flexing their muscles into my hips every time his balls pushed their cum into my tender hole.
And that's how I met a new Daddy.
About a week after that the manager brought me into his office, played the security tape of me getting bent over his desk, and fired me.
I was laughing the whole drive home. So worth it.
So this is how I met this man who’s house I was driving to now, him pounding one out in me on my boss’s dirty desk.
I got to his house and he let me in. We both knew why I was here and we wasted no time as he tugged off his pants and took a seat on his couch. I crawled up between his legs and assumed my place.
I ran my hands up his legs and cupped his balls, weighing them gently.
“Ooooh, your balls are so big and full,” I cooed at him while massaging them around in his sack. His dick was inches from my face, staring angrily at me, bouncing in time with my fingers playing with his soft balls.
“How long has it been since you came,” I mewled at him, daring a quick tongue flick across the head of his cock, just a taste, just a tease.
“At least a week,” he breathed heavily. Music to my horny ears, and my hungry belly.
“Mmm, you should never have to go long that long, Daddy. These big balls deserve to be drained every single day.” I said, still cupping his balls, kneading them around, tugging on them, pulling them down nice and tight until the skin around his cock head started to slowly peel back, the big swollen head glistening with drops of precum.
“And I intend to do it for you,” I said in my brattiest voice as I opened my mouth and sucked in his juicy head, swirling my hungry tongue all around it, learning it’s shape, tasting it’s flavor.
I watched as his eyes rolled back and his head tilted back onto the couch, his arms resting by his side. I had practically begged him in my texts to let me come give him head, promising he wouldn’t have to do anything. I would do all the work and leave when I’m done.
And now I had it to do.
I focused all my skills on him, sucking and slurping every way I could think of. I ran my lips down the side of his shaft to his base, then back up his shaft and over the head and back down the other side, never stopping my mouth on his cock head, just teasing it with a flick of my tongue as I passed over it. Every time my wet mouth moved over his head I could feel his hips rise, trying to find an opening.
I teased him and edged him on, and finally as I drew my lips up the side of his dick I landed my lips around his head and sucked it all in, pushing it to the back of my mouth. When I felt it hit the back, I pushed down and felt my throat loosen up and let him in.
His big hand came up and wrapped around the back of my head, taking a big handful of my hair to hold me tight, and started working my head up and down his dick, using my mouth like a flesh light.
I loved every second of it, being used like this to make him feel good. Giving him so much pleasure, hearing it from his moans, feeling it from his throbbing hard cock, and all because of me. The thought sends me on a rush, increasing my efforts to milk him off into my mouth.
His pace quickens as he uses my mouth, and he starts panting harder, looking down at me while he drives up into my sloppy mouth.
I know it’s coming, I can feel his dick getting harder in my throat. There’s no way I can let him cum down my belly, I thought. I have to taste it. I came all this way.
I still had my hands around his balls, holding them and tugging on them this whole time. I felt him start to tense up as his thighs started to push up off the couch, and I tightened my little fingers around his big heavy balls and pulled down hard.
Just enough to get his cock out of my throat and onto my tongue, and just in time. He loses the fight and starts unleashing blast after blast of scaling hot cum into my mouth, shooting into me so hard and violently that it’s gagging the back of my throat, making me sputter and cough cum out around his spasming cock.
I furiously stroke his shaft fast with one hand while still tugging down on his balls, working his orgasm out from the very bottom of his balls, coaxing every drop into my mouth, my lips sealed as tight as I could around him.
His cock stops jerking and his cum oozes from his big hole, and I suck hard to get every bit out. As his softening cock slips from my lips and slaps up against his thigh, I sit back on my legs and give his big load a quick swish around my mouth for good measure, and gulp it all down in one big slimy mess.
Oh, that feeling. That feeling as it slides down my throat, almost agonizingly slow, feeling it slide down deep.
He didn’t need me to show him the gooey mess, he couldn’t care less about feeding my humiliation addiction. He used me as a wet hole to unload in from time to time, and my needs were the furthest thing from his thoughts. I had other men in my life for that.
I cleaned up any bits of his cum from on my face and around my mouth, several places where it ran down my chin and was about to drip off. I used my fingers to feed it myself as quick as I could, leaned forward and gave his spent cock a wet, passionate kiss right on the underside of the head, and I could feel it twitch under my lips.
“Thank you, Daddy, that was yummy,” I cooed licking my sticky lips and smacking them together like some bukkake porn slut.
Mmm, cum-flavored lip gloss. My favorite.
“Remember what I said. Your balls deserved to be drained every single day. See you in the morning!”
With that I turned around and left before he had time to process what I said, or to say no.
I got in my car and after checking myself for any evidence of his cum on my face in the mirror, I sat back and just basked in the memory, his taste still strong in my mouth, tasting it on my breath all the way home.
Oh, I’m going to get my breakfast this week, I thought to myself while I drove. When he wakes up this evening to get ready for work, he’ll have some sexy pictures of me in my maid’s outfit on his phone, something to keep him thinking about me all night.
My diet was going great.
