You Want Me to Call You, What?
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2005 by SirNathan

BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 2 - A couple's journey into ageplay. By the time this story is finished, I hope to have adequately described the 'what, where and why' of ageplay, at least for one couple. I thought this would be a good challenge. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, then look at this like a documentary. This is NOT an incest story. Please note the final chapter contains no sex. It is somewhat of an explanation, but you might have to fill in the blanks yourselves.

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   DomSub   MaleDom   Spanking   Oral Sex  

This was soooo delicious. Kneeling beside the bed looking up at Stephen wasn't exactly unusual. Yet this time, and with little provocation, I was as wet as I had been the very first time I'd been in this position. God, I loved this position. I never used to. I thought it was demeaning. But unless Stephen was 'on a mission', I was completely in control down here. Rarely in my life had I felt as strong as I did when I was on my knees with my lips wrapped around his cock. It was incredibly empowering to hear his uncontrollable moans while he clenched his teeth and fists in ecstasy. His yummy eyes smiled down at me and I realised my mouth was dry with expectation. Swirling my tongue around, I broke the silence. "What's 'the birds and the bees' talk, Daddy?"

"Well, ah..."

"Oh, please tell me!" I squealed, giggling. My hands shot to the top of his thighs and Stephen almost jumped out of his skin. Then I had an idea. "I'm a big girl now, see?" I said, twisting my body back and forth and raising my breasts with my open palms under them, presenting them to his stunned gaze. My nipples throbbed with excitement, urgently pressing against the thin fabric of my tank top.

I was enjoying this on so many levels. It was interesting to see Stephen under some pressure for a change. The situation wasn't of his making, and I sensed his occasional hesitation. I tried hard not to smile a few times, having instead to pretend I wasn't having a ball. My instinct was to giggle! I was starting to feel younger. Or perhaps it was smaller. I didn't know, but it was quite bizarre.

And of course, I was wet. Gooey wet. Warm and swollen. I already knew that stories about Ageplay sent me into raptures, but actually doing it was just... Ugh! I don't know. All I knew was that I was tingling from my scalp to my toenails, and I was ready to fuck at the drop of a hat. The longer we took to get there, the more delicious I felt!

"Ah. Okay, well... Take these, for starters," he said, clearing his throat and pointing loosely in the direction of my chest.

"These?" I asked innocently, looking down at them, still held up in my light grip. "My, um, boobies?"

Stephen chuckled at my choice of words and I blushed with genuine embarrassment. I hadn't ever called them that. "Well, yes, but that's the little girl name for them."

I wrinkled my nose. "What's the big girl name for them?" I asked, looking down at the objects of our conversation, still twisting, but more slowly.

"Big girls call them tits. But you can call them titties if you prefer." Stephen visibly swallowed and adjusted his cock in his pants, though I tried not to show that I noticed.

"My titties feel hot and swollen, Daddy. And my nipples are really, really hard too!"

"So I can see, precious."

Never in my life had he called me that. Sitting back on my heels and catching my breath, I realised I liked it. A lot. I grinned and I was sure my eyes lit up. His gaze met mine and he smiled too. With the intrusion of a sudden memory, I pulled a face.

"What's wrong, baby?" Stephen asked.

"Well," I began, not knowing where I was going with my thoughts. "Some of the boys at school make fun of my big titties, Daddy."

"That's very mean of them, baby. You have beautiful titties, okay? Stick out your chest and ignore them. They're not all mature like you. They're being babies, right?"

I giggled. "Okay, Daddy." God, I blushed as my next thought jumped out of my mouth without notice. "I prefer grown up men anyway, Daddy."

Stephen looked at me, then went red. Oh dear, I've gone too far. "Give me a minute," he said, standing and making his way to the bathroom without another word.

What the fuck got into me? I thought, as I wrung my hands together on the verge of tears. It was going so good! Now I've ruined it!

Fuck. Where did that come from anyway? I mean, on one level it's true, I've always liked older guys. Not much older. Just you know, more experienced. They knew what they were doing, and my first older guy was mind-blowing compared to the inexperienced backseat fumbling I was used to. Thinking back, even in junior high I preferred the senior high guys.

The words, 'grown up men' swirled around in my mind, and I suddenly remembered something that took my breath away. There was someone. It would have been almost twenty years ago when I was twelve or thirteen. My knowledge of just about anything would have been rudimentary at best. But I do remember masturbating and fantasising about one older guy. He was the college son of our next-door neighbours and I only remember seeing him around just that one summer.

I remember thinking I was in love with him but he never even noticed me. Still, that didn't stop me imagining all kinds of scenarios in my fantasies, most of which involved touching the bits on twenty year olds that thirteen year olds shouldn't touch.

Shuddering, I was ruthlessly yanked back to the present, feeling shamefully naughty. I should have told him this, I thought. I was about to get to my feet to run to Stephen to explain, when I heard his voice. "It's okay, baby. Just kneel and relax. I want to talk about something."

"I'm sorry! I went a bit far! I didn't mean to!"

"C'mon. Hush now, let Daddy talk." Blinking my eyes clear, I looked up at him. Did he just call himself, Daddy? "Let's get back into this, okay?"

"Um, okay. Are you all right?"

"I just had to have a think, baby girl. Daddy is fine. He just had to get his head around something. We'll talk about it later."

"Y... Yes, Daddy."

"I want to know when all this started. Tell Daddy what you can remember, okay precious?"

I smiled and whispered. "I like it when you call me that." He just smiled back and waited for me. I knew where to start. "I... I think it started because I played with myself all the time, Daddy."

"A lot?"

"More than once a day usually."

"Morning and night? I'd say that was normal."

"Is it? I mean, was it?"

"Sure."

"I thought I was so bad. I couldn't ask my friends about it. I was too embarrassed."

"I take it your Mother didn't help."

"She made me keep my door open."

"Okay, that's different. You better explain."

"Well," I biting my lip. "One time, about a year after I first started playing with myself, Momma caught me and she was pretty upset. My punishment was to leave the door open."

"To stop you?"

"That's what she said. She also used to say things like, 'I hope you're not playing with your cooter'. Since I had no idea what she was talking about, I confidently stated that I was doing no such thing. It took me a couple of years to realise she meant my pussy. It was too late by then," I said, giggling at the memory.

"I imagine that would have been frustrating."

"It slowed me down a bit, making me almost constantly horny and it was thrillingly dangerous too. Heaven knows what Mommy would have said if she caught me again. But I was too horny to stop, and having to leave my door open made my orgasms unbelievable."

"Were you ever caught again?"

"Not once. I was an angel."

"How did you manage it?"

"I learned to bite my pillow and moan into it, took a lot of naps and annoyingly long baths and showers. I was fast becoming obsessed by the thrill of it. I began masturbating in other places where I might get caught. Toilet cubicles were my favourite. I'd learned to cum silently by then. I started helping around the house a lot more too, just to cover the need to do my own laundry. Considering how soiled my knickers were getting, not to mention my bed sheets, I had to do something."

"So you owe your good domestic habits to your desire to hide your masturbation from your Mother?"

"I've never thought about it like that."

"Stands to reason. Tell me when you first shaved."

"A girlfriend suggested it. I told her how itchy I was down there and I hadn't even touched a boy yet. She said it was less sweaty and felt really good. Well, I didn't know whether it was less sweaty and it certainly didn't calm the itch, but it did feel good and Daddy's razor got quite a workout over the years."

"If only he'd known."

"Um, that was part of the turn on too."

"What was?"

"Well, knowing he'd used it on his face. Knowing he'd use it again and again... it was... oh I don't know, naughty!"

"You started getting kinky pretty young."

"I had no idea what I was doing or whether what I was thinking was normal or not! No one talked about this stuff. Oh, I'd overheard things and Mommy told me to be good and to keep my cherry as long as I could. After that conversation I decided to bust it myself. I could barely wait to feel the pain of becoming a woman, and I didn't want to share it with anyone. It was gone within forty-five minutes. Thankfully I was already doing my sheets by then."

"Who got you interested in older guys? When did it start?"

Where is this going? Do I want to know?

I bit my lip as prickles of embarrassment rushed over my skin and I shivered. "I... I..."

In a flash his hand shot out and slapped my left breast, setting it ablaze and my nipple throbbing. Gasping, my mouth opening like a fish out of water, I gobbled air. "Who did you want to fuck?" Stephen asked harshly. I was taken aback and I felt so strange. Memories were rushing back at me from all directions!

"I... I don't know what you mean!"

"You know exactly what I mean, you little fucktoy. Now tell me! Who was it you wanted to fuck? Who was first in line? Tell Daddy!" Again his hand shot out and I cringed, gritting my teeth and expecting another smack. His finger and thumb caught my nipple between them and he gripped it tightly.

"Ohhh!" I moaned, my mind swirling in the sudden pleasure/pain of his tight fingers. God, it was just right. I couldn't move at all, but if I was still, my nipple pulsed with hot pleasure.

"Who has Daddy's dirty little slut been thinking about? Huh? Who!" He shook my breast by the nipple and my cunt flooded.

Clenching almost uncontrollably, I cried, "Billy Hudson!"

"Who the fuck is Billy Hudson? If I get my hands on him, I'll kill him."

"No, Daddy, no! Billy didn't do anything, I just, I..."

"You what?"

"I just wanted him to!" I blurted.

"How old were you?"

"Um, thirteen, Daddy."

Releasing my nipple, he sat a moment, thinking. His eyes seemed to look far into the distance for a moment before refocussing and looking down on me. "What did you want him to do?"

I swallowed, my cheeks burning. "I... I just wanted him to notice me, Daddy."

"How did you make him notice you, baby?"

"I... I didn't wear a bra one time when I went over to drop in some mail that was delivered to our house instead of theirs. I took it off before I went over there."

"And what exactly do you think you were doing, acting like that?"

"I... I was being naughty, Daddy."

"That's right. You were flaunting your big titties at him, weren't you? You wanted him to fuck you, isn't that right?"

"Oh no, Daddy! I just... I just wanted him to notice me! I wasn't... I wasn't like that! I was a good girl!"

"Well, we'll see about that. Drop that arm and let's see those titties you've been so keen to show off, dirty girl."

I hadn't realised I was covering them. Blushing crimson, I dropped the arm I was covering my breasts with until it hung loosely by my side. To add to my embarrassment, I'd been grinding the edge of my other hand into my crotch in a second misguided attempt at modesty. "Y... Yes, Daddy," I said breathlessly, reluctantly putting both my hands behind my back and threading the fingers together.

"So these..." he snarled, grasping my nipples tightly and making me groan, "... are the titties you wanted to show that college boy, are they?"

"Ohhh..." was all I could manage as he shook my breasts by the nipples and my eyes rolled back into my head.

"These are your naughty hard fucking nipples. Say it," he demanded, pinching them harder.

"They're my... oooohh... my ha... hard fucking nipples fuckkk... Ooohhh I'm sorrrrryyy, Daddyyy..."

"Get your clamps, these titties need to learn a lesson. Go on, hurry up." Immediately he released his tight grip and my nipples throbbed so hard I could barely think. What's happening to me? I wondered, as I staggered to my feet. My pussy was hot and slippery between my legs and I was sure Stephen could tell.

When I returned from the playroom with the clamps in my hand, Stephen was sitting on the side of the bed with the crop swinging from a finger. He watched me as I entered and I started to get down on my knees again. "Stay standing," he said. "You'll be having this part of your lesson on your feet, baby girl."

"Y... Yes, Daddy," I stammered, holding out the clamps for him.

"You put them on. If you're big enough to flaunt your titties at college boys, I think you're also big enough to clamp them yourself."

I swallowed and whispered, "I... I'm sorry." I dutifully applied the clamps to my nipples while Stephen ran the tip of the crop up and down the inside and outside of my legs and hips. When I was all set, I bit my lip then asked in a little voice, "Are they tight enough, Daddy?"

"Do they hurt just a little bit?"

"They're pinching, Daddy."

"Tighten them a quarter turn."

"O... Okay, Daddy." As I turned each one, he tapped me right on my cunt with the crop. Tap! "Oooo..." Tap! "Oooohh... Th... Thank you, Daddy."

"Do you promise not to show off your titties to any more college boys, baby?" Tap! Tap!

"Oh, Oh... Yes, Daddy. I'm sorry."

"Hands behind your head... Feet apart..." I did as he asked, arching my back and shuffling my feet apart. I was so wet down there it was ridiculous. "Mmmm..." he murmured, obviously pleased with what he saw. "Good girl. Now let's get this lesson started."

"Okay, Daddy." I was blushing up a storm, and my clamped nipples were pounding.

While asking me questions, he was tapping my skin all over, like little tiny slaps, and he just kept on going, giving me these little soft slaps wherever he wanted. "So baby girl. What are these again?" he asked, tapping the crop all around each breast, careful to avoid my clamped nipples.

"Th... That's easy, Daddy. They're my ti... titties."

He started tapping them a little harder sending them wobbling on my chest with each tap. "Call them your nice big titties, baby girl."

"Oooo... Yes, D... Daddy. They're my n... nice big ooo... big titties, Daddy!"

"And what about these?" he asked, suddenly tapping right on my clamped nipples, sending a shudder through me. "What are these called, baby girl?"

"Oooo... My n... nipples, Daddy... Ohhh Goddd..."

Smack! Smack! He firmly cropped each one and my knees almost buckled. "Wrong, they are your naughty fucking hard nipples. Now say it properly."

"Th... They're my naughty f... fucking hard nipples, Daddy. Ohhh!" Smack! Smack! "Ohhh, fuckkk..."

The cropping stopped and Stephen looked up at me. I gasped at the angry look on his face. "What did you just say, you dirty-mouthed little slut? Did you say 'fuck' without being told to? Did you?"

 
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