Let me die in your arms...

Last week, for the first time in a while, Daddy played with his mouse. He made her scream (well awkwardly through the mousetrap on her tongue) and orgasm. Again and again, her body betrayed her mind and opened itself to his touch. The slut unleashed for a while before returning to her box, where she's held and contained until the next time.

He left bruises and bite marks on the mouse...bruises from the mousetraps on her nipples, which made nursing painful...but at the same time, mouse sucked up that nipple pain like a junkie almost. The first moments are the worst, then it calms...But it kept her mind focused on him.

Yes, on Him, Daddy.

It seemed odd to mouse to have such a reaction to it. All the rest of the day, she did all the normal stuff and played with the babygirl. Prepared the meals, tidied the house, even walked the dog. But in the recesses of her mind, her thoughts were really on Daddy and ways to please him. To really demonstrate her love for him.

Yet, now as those bruises somewhat are fading, she finds herself wanting to keep them. The idea pleased Daddy, when mouse shared it, but felt it wasn't the best idea. He said he wasn't sure when the mousetraps would make another appearence, but quickly added he was sure they would.

After rituals, he cuffed mouse's hands together behind her while he used her body like an instrument. Then he had mouse on top, while he guided and controlled her movements by pinching and tweaking her nipples, the feeling of helplessly being impaled by him was amazing!

When Daddy was finished, he decided to leave mouse a bit frustrated and didn't allow her to come. But really mouse just accepted that and hardly pouted. Later mouse shared some thoughts with him...yes Alpha thoughts...

But more about the times in those days, when mouse was with Daddy sexually -- how good it felt..happy feelings that began slowly to darken. Sometimes tho after she felt terrible...

It wasn't as tho she were cheating on alpha, because certainly he didn't care. Unless mouse orgasmed, which always happened and she wouldn't dare lie about. Daddy, cut off the ramble by pulling mouse close to him and asked about her anxiety level...her tone of voice had changed...ramped up..he felt her heart rate rising...

Daddy stopped mouse and made her do her conscious breathing, guiding her through it. He reminded mouse that she really did belong to him now and forever (which kinda goes without saying, but sometimes mouse needs to hear it said). While the past is out there, it can't really hurt her anymore than a photograph. He's right of course...sometimes mouse can't stop her thoughts once they get started.

Carefully, he pulled her back...snaking his body around her's and took her again, much the way he used to. Staring into her eyes, making her body ripple and undulate under his weight, with her legs wrapped tightly around him...peace...bliss...his large hands enclosing around her throat, but not tightening, simply resting there...but leaving mouse to feel vulnerable...

It was though at any second he could choke mouse...then he removed his hands, stopped moving his body, and asked...where her mind was...

Remembering quite vividly how we used to play, decades ago.

"We were not playing mouse; at least I wasn't" he said, "What did you hope for then?"

And she told him.

And Daddy held her..

Song selection: (a true guilty pleasure) Annie's Song; John Denver