shame account

Rule: “-While not sucking you are immediately to be gagged if not needed for other things, and once ungagged you are expected to immediately start sucking.”

Gags serve an important purpose for me as a mouth fuckhole. Most of my training is centered around my mouth so it’s important to have that hole thoroughly trained and properly stored when not in use. This ensures that I’m always eager to suck, and that my sucking is the best possible quality when given the opportunity to do so.

Unfortunately for me, spending time gagged this way results in a very wet pussy that earns me lots of punishment. 

"I don't care if you want to wear it, put it on."

"I don't ask you to make cute noises, that's why I spank you when I want to hear them."

"Stop overthinking with that mouth and lick my boots clean with it instead."

"Do as you're told or you'll do as you're told with tears and an apology. You'll straighten out that attitude right now or I'll straighten it for you."

"I can't have you going out tonight unmarked. Fetch me my paddle. And be a dear and bring me a glass of water too. Beating you is a good workout."

"Show me how you blush knowing you're my obedient pet. Look at you, blushing on command. You're so well-behaved it's adorable."

"Now you listen to me, here's what's going to happen."

"Not a peep out of you."

"Bend over and wait for me, I'll need to take out some stress on your body soon."

"Stop. You're too little for that. I will handle that."

"Look at me. Feel my chest with your cheek. Nothing else matters right now."

"Get over my lap right now. No, you didn't do anything wrong, I just want this for you. Take it."

"I didn't teach you to dawdle, do what you were told."

"Did I say you could do that?"

"Don't make me repeat myself."

"Good, I'm glad you're embarrassed for me."

"Kneel at my feet and wait."

"You can take it. I know you can. There, now that wasn't so hard now, was it?"

"Here's what I expect out of you today. Anything less will be a disappointment. And I know you don't like being a disappointment so listen carefully and obey."

"This is why I make the decisions around here."

I want the level of control over her to be down to the smallest detail, total authority over her, even if I don't need to use it regularly. I want to handle the complete control I have over her so well that eventually I earn the trust and privilege for my decisions to become her laws and my word her commands. That she slips into a state where she comfortably and blissfully defaults to unquestionable obedience.

"I can piss on you now? What a good girl you are. That clearly deserves an orgasm. Let me give it to you."

Today marks two weeks since I've cum. Two weeks since my body clenched and released for him. Two weeks of wanting, needing, aching. My cunt stays wet, with desperation.

This denial isn't abuse. It's his pleasure. He hears me squirm, hears my whimper, feels my body tremble. Every drop of my wetness belongs to him. Every frustrated tear, every moan caught in my throat when I edge, his. He owns my orgasms. He owns me.

Yesterday was my hardest day. I struggled. My body ached, hollow and hungry. I begged him, I was totally unreasonable and even bratty and he said no, with kindness and understanding.

Today I woke up with acceptance. He decides when I cum. Not me. His choice. And that knowledge settles deep in my bones, warm and heavy. This is freedom. I don't have to carry the weight of wanting, the pressure of performance. I just surrender.

Orgasm denial strips me bare. Makes me beautiful in my vulnerability. I feel free, free from my own greedy hands, free from chasing a high that fades. Instead I live in this constant state of him. Every breath is for him. Every wet, desperate pulse between my thighs reminds me who I belong to.

There will be days I struggle again. Days my body rebels and my mind wails. That's okay. When Daddy holds me, whispers how proud he is, tells me I'm his good girl, I feel adored. His pride fills me where my own emptiness lives.

He tells me when to edge and for how long. Sometimes the timing feels unreasonable, thirty seconds every three hours or edging for three minutes, it can and is torturous but who am I to question him? He knows best. He makes the rules. I follow them. Every second of that edge, teetering on the brink, I think of him. His voice. His hand. His pleasure.

This denial makes me crave him more. My body remembers the last time he let me cum. My cunt clenches around nothing, searching for him. I'm a mess sometimes, wandering the house or work with wet thighs, wet panties, biting my lip until it bleeds, and that's okay.

“I’m weak.”

“I’m helpless.”

“I can’t stop you.”

“You can do whatever you want to me.”

“You decide when you want to use my body.”

“I’m powerless.”

“You can easily force yourself into my holes.”