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A Just Punishment

My boyfriend punishes me for lying.
“No, please, don't! I'm sorry.”

“Not yet, you aren't. But don't worry, baby. You're about to be.” Your smirk was cold and gleeful.

I flinched.

You bumped me back to start.

Playing games at our holiday parties was a tradition we stayed true to, and Sorry! was always a good way to offset the holiday spirit. After all, what was better than seeing a face of terror when drawing a 'Sorry!' card? It was only a few more rounds until one of our friends won, and I quickly cleaned up the game and replaced it with silverware and napkins. You joined me in the kitchen as I began to fill our guests' bowls, pressed up against my back. “Fuck, that smells good.” You murmured, dragging your hand down the side of my hip.

“I know.” I smirked, ladling a spoonful of alfredo sauce onto a serving of pasta. “It's a good holiday food. Plus, I know you like it, so.” I turned around, a bowl in each of my hands, and smiled up at you. “Now, give me a hand, yeah?” I requested, tilting my head up to plant a soft kiss on your lips. You kept your hands at my hips, holding me in place as you returned my gesture, half-grinding against me. I turned my head away, laughing a little. “Come on, Daddy. Later! We'll have all the time you want after they leave. I promise.” I spoke under my breath, not wanting our guests to hear what I called you. They probably wouldn't understand why I called you 'Daddy,' and I didn't feel like explaining. Not wasting any more time, I gave you another quick kiss before returning to our dining room.

Dinner started off well. Peter and Danielle were probably our best friends, so having them over was always nice. We talked about work, about the holiday season, a bit of gossip thrown in, and finally happened upon the subject of school. I fidgeted in my seat, staring Danielle down anxiously. She had already had quite a bit of wine, and she was feeling talkative. “You're really good in school, aren't you, Alexis?” She smiled, taking another drink.

“Uh, yeah.” I bit my lip, crossing one of my legs over the other, then switching them. “I'm uh, on the Dean's list.” I laughed under my breath, but internally, I was sweating bullets. Out of the corner of my eye I could see you smile at me; I could see the pride in your eyes. After all, you had taken it upon yourself to help motivate me to study. You knew how important my grades were to me, and never having anyone to care about them before, I had asked you to help me maintain my straight A's. We had studied for hours, you helped me with my homework, and even took time to make flash cards for my Japanese class. “Let me take your bowls.” I said quickly, standing and approaching Peter and Danielle. I could feel your eyes on me; you knew something was making me uncomfortable.

“She did really well in her classes this year. She ended up with 103% in her Japanese class, you know!” You beamed, and I felt my stomach churn as I lifted Danielle's bowl.

Don't say it, don't say it. I begged in my mind, but the wine had taken over Danielle's rational side.

“Yeah, but she got a B in her Printmaking class!” She laughed, bringing her hand up to her mouth in an attempt to muffle her cackles.

Fucking. Shit.

I didn't want to look at you; I knew you'd be disappointed, angry, or upset. Maybe all three! I hurried to the kitchen and put the bowls in the sink, pacing back and forth for a few moments. I could feel regret washing over me; nausea, even! I glanced up as you entered the kitchen, your eyes fixed on mine. You looked calm, but I could sense the oncoming storm. “I...” I searched for an excuse, an argument, a defense, but nothing came to me. You just outstretched your hand, silently asking for mine. I swallowed thickly, and after a slight hesitation, took your hand.

You walked me through the dining room and excused us in front of our friends. “We'll be right back. Just have to get the gift exchange ready.” You smiled, knowing our friends were a little too tipsy to care, anyway. “Come on, baby.” You said to me quietly, and I felt like Boy Scouts were practicing knot tying on my stomach. Once we were in our bedroom, you closed the door and sighed. “Sit on the bed.” You told me calmly, and I obliged, staying silent. “You really got a B?”

“Yes.” I admitted.

“How long have you known?”

“Since a day or two after school ended. I didn't want to tell you, I knew you'd be upset.” I mumbled, glancing up at you.

“I'm not upset, I'm disappointed. But not because of your grades. You know better than to lie to me, Alexis.” You put your hands in your pockets, and I sucked uncomfortably at my lower lip. You used my first name; shit, this was serious.

“I'm sorry, Daddy. I just...Dennis is such an ass, you know? And I tried as much as I could in his class, but I just wasn't good enough, okay? I got an A on the final test, I got a B- on the midterm. But I just wasn't artistic enough or something, okay?” I was getting defensive and upset, gritting my teeth to keep tears from forming in my eyes.

“Hey, hey.” You approached me and knelt in front of me, taking my hands in yours. “You did your best, alright? Don't be upset about your grades. You still got A's in all of your other classes, right? And you had the highest grade in your Japanese class!” You could see me beginning to falter and cupped my cheek in your hand. “I'm still proud of you, okay? Look at me.” You said softly, and I reluctantly lifted my eyes to meet yours. I nodded softly, feeling your thumb brush over my cheek as you began to smile.

“I'm sorry, Daddy. I shouldn't have lied to you. I won't do it again.” I sighed, finally calming down and becoming stable again.

“Good. But of course, you'll have to be punished.” You stood from your position of kneeling, and I looked up at you, biting at my lip again. I didn't argue or object, and just nodded again. “Get off the bed. Get on your knees.”

“Wait, now? But our friends are ---”

“Don't make me repeat myself.” Your voice was stern, and I dared not go against your order. I knelt on the floor, resting my hands on my thighs. “Now, you want to make it up to Daddy, don't you, princess?” You asked, brushing your thumb against my cheek again. I nodded in response, but you quickly slapped my face, making my cheek sting. “Use your words. Unless you want me to take them away?”

“I'm sorry, Daddy. Y-yes, I want to make it up to you.” I quickly responded, looking up at you with eager, anxious eyes.

“Good.” You smirked, unfastening your belt. My eyes were fixated on your hands, which deftly pulled at the leather of your belt, then at the button of your pants, exposing your already-hardening cock. You grabbed a fistful of my hair and began to move my head forward, rubbing my face against your cock. “Beg for it. Show me what an eager little slut you are for me.”

“Please, Daddy, please let me taste you. I just want to make you cum. Let me show you that I can be a good girl, please! You can take away my orgasm privileges, they're not important. Please, Daddy, just use me to get off!” I pleaded, desperation taking over as you continued to pull at my hair. I looked up at you, opening my mouth and sticking my tongue out. You seemed relatively pleased by my begging, and leaned down, spitting in my mouth. I closed my eyes, feeling goosebumps rise on my skin as you degraded me. Without so much as another word, you yanked my hair again, pushing your cock into my mouth.

I could feel you throbbing as you fucked my mouth, and I struggled to keep up with your pace. I sucked hungrily, bobbing my head in rhythm with your thrusts. You pushed forward, forcing your cock as far as it would go into my throat. “Open your fucking eyes.” You growled down at me, and I immediately made them flicker open, feeling them water already. Your cock was a lot to take, but I was determined to please you, so I held it in my throat for as long as I could. I shifted a little, feeling the urge to gag rising up, forming tears in my eyes. “What's wrong, baby? It's not too much for you, is it?” You mocked me, brushing my hair out of my eyes as you watched me struggle to take your cock. I whimpered around you, sending vibrations down your shaft, and you hissed in approval. Even so, this was a punishment, and it wasn't supposed to be easy street for me. You made that clear as you began rocking your hips forward, forcing your cock further into my throat.

I couldn't fight the urge anymore and coughed, choking on your length. I pulled back, a long strand of saliva hanging from the tip of your cock to my quivering lips. I wiped it away, coughing a few more times. My makeup was smeared, and you grabbed my chin, examining my face for a moment. You smiled as I panted softly, still trying to catch my breath. “Show me how thankful you are to suck my cock.” It was a simple request, and I was happy for the opportunity to please you in my own way. I lifted my hand and wrapped it around your cock, stroking firmly and steadily. I leaned closer to you, settling beneath your cock and lapping eagerly at your balls. Your moans only encouraged me, and I paid special attention to each of them, taking the time to delicately suck on each one.

I brushed my thumb over the tip of your cock as I moved up, planting kisses along the base of your cock and working my way up. I swirled my tongue around your thickness, my eyes fixed on yours as I teased your cock. I could feel you twitching against my wet tongue, and you seemed to be resisting the urge to thrust back into my throat again. I dragged my mouth to the head of your cock, brushing my lips back and forth over the tip. “I love sucking your cock, Daddy.” I said softly, my warm breath flooding over you. I continued rubbing the tip against my lips, almost as if I were applying lipstick. You were getting impatient – your cock twitched and moved, eager to return inside my mouth. I finally obliged and opened my mouth again, sucking on the head of your cock. I lapped hungrily at the slit, tasting your precum and savoring its flavor. You moaned again, bringing your hand down and pulling at my hair again.

I slowly began bobbing my head back and forth on your length, working a little further down with each stroke. I raised a hand and cupped your balls, brushing my thumb over them, caressing them, and doing everything in my power to keep you impressed with my performance. Once I made it to the middle of your shaft, I extended my tongue, easing my tongue against the underside of your cock. I traced each of your veins slowly, as if I were memorizing them, sucking while my tongue worked. Once I had paid a fair amount of attention to your shaft, I continued down, filling my mouth to the brim with your cock. I could feel it pressing towards the back of my throat and hesitated. “Come on, baby. Show Daddy what a good little slut you can be.” You urged me, and I complied. I rested a hand on your hip, keeping myself stable as I pressed your cock further into my throat, constricting my airflow. I whimpered out a whine that sounded a bit too much like a moan, and you grinned. “You really get off on sucking cock, don't you?” I tried to verbally respond, but you tugged sharply at my hair, correcting me. “Don't talk with your mouth full.”

I somehow managed to accommodate all of your length, and in turn, held my nose against your pubic bone. I was far passed the ability to suck at your cock, and holding my position while breathing was becoming quite difficult. My eyes watered up again, my tears only sending my mascara further and further down my cheeks. I could feel your cock twitch again as you watched me; I think seeing me suffer to make you cum was turning you on more than anything. “Maybe I should call Peter and Danielle in here right now, hm? I wonder what they'd say if they saw you on your knees like this.” You mused, smirking devilishly. I wouldn't have put your threats passed you; in all fairness, I wasn't sure just how far you planned to extend my punishment. After considering your next move for another moment or so, you pulled your cock out of my throat, finally giving me the ability to breathe again. “Lie on the bed, face up. Don't keep me waiting.” You said sternly, stroking your cock as I got into position.

I lied down with my head on the pillow, hands resting at my side, fidgeting nervously. You straddled my chest, securing my hands down with each of your knees. I instinctively tried to pull them free, but you had successfully pinned me down without even trying. You dragged your hands up and down my body, fingers lingering against the hem of my skirt before moving back up to my top. You tugged down the neckline of my top, exposing my breasts. I hadn't worn a bra to the party, as per your request, and you eagerly began groping me. “You still have a few bruises left,” you muttered, pointing out the faint red marks on my tits. “I think it's time we made some more, don't you think?” You smirked, enjoying the nervous look on my face. “But first, we have to make sure you stay quiet.” Glancing over your shoulder, you grabbed a few pieces of leftover tissue paper from the gifts we had wrapped earlier. “Open up, baby.” You grinned again, but I sucked at my lip, reluctant to open my mouth.

You raised your eyebrow at me, almost surprised that I was defying you. “Tough, huh?” You mocked, reaching a hand down and roughly squeezing at my breast. I whined as you increased your grip, but I stubbornly kept my mouth closed, gritting my teeth. I could see your patience running thin, and you roughly pulled at my hair again, jerking my head to the left. You leaned in close, whispering in my ear. “If you don't open your fucking mouth, I promise you, you'll regret it.” You raised your free hand and wrapped it around my throat, squeezing roughly. I found myself quickly out of air, and I squirmed and struggled beneath you without much luck. My mouth fell open, attempting to bring in more air as you choked me. You didn't loosen your grip, however, and kept your mouth by my ear. “Now apologize. I want to hear you say it.”

My mouth moved, but I struggled to find the oxygen to speak. “I'm...s-s-”

“Say 'I'm sorry, Daddy.'” You urged me, your voice all too calm.

“I'm s-sorry...Daddy,” I whined out, my hands tensing and grabbing at the bedsheets, still trapped beneath your knees.

“'I'll follow your orders.'” You continued, your hand unwavering from my throat.

“I'll,” I wheezed out, my eyes slipping closed, “follow your...o-order-s...” I finally stammered out, and you released me, straightening your posture above me. I blinked a few times as I inhaled deeply, adjusting my vision.

“Now, open your fucking mouth.” Your patience had run out, and I obediently opened my mouth. Without hesitation, you stuffed a few pieces of tissue paper in, effectively silencing me. You lifted a hand and roughly slapped my face, not once, not twice, but three times. My face stung and burned by the time you finished, but the paper had kept my whines muffled. “Perfect.” You mused aloud. Your cock was still hard, despite all the time between the blowjob and now. Then again, slapping me was always a sure-fire way to get you hard. You leaned over and reached into the drawer beside our bed, pulling out a bottle of lube. I nervously fidgeted, but you chuckled down at me. “Don't get your panties in a bunch. I'm not fucking your ass.” You opened the bottle and squeezed some of the liquid out, slicking up your cock. My tits were next to be lubed up, and I couldn't help but moan softly as you roughly manhandled them, making sure they were slick enough for you.

You squeezed my tits together and placed your cock at the slight opening beneath them, smirking at me. “I know you don't like having your tits fucked, but this isn't about getting you off, is it?” I could feel my cheeks flushing as you used my body; it was particularly degrading, in a way. You barely spoke to me, you did nothing to pleasure me, you just fucked my tits, groaning every so often as you increased your pace. I turned my head to the side at one point and you slapped me, grabbing my cheeks and turning my head to face you. “I want you to look at me while I fuck your tits.” You growled, primal and animalistic as your body began to ache for an orgasm. I obeyed, my eyes fixed on you as your cock continued to ram between my breasts. I could feel bruises from your fingertips forming on my skin as you held my tits together, but my meek little whimpers were practically silent behind the tissue paper. “Such a fucking whore,” You groaned out, taking the time to spit in my face as your body rocked back and forth above me. “Daddy's gonna cum for you, baby.” Your warm breath washed over me, and I fidgeted beneath you again.

Quickly, you pulled the tissue paper out of my face and began stroking your cock, hovering over my face. “Open your mouth.” You ordered, and without hesitation, I parted my lips and stuck my tongue out. After just a few more strokes, you began to cum, unloading ropes of your thick, warm cum over my face. One grazed my eyebrow, a few landed on my tongue, but most of your cum ended up on my cheeks. Once you were finished, you wiped the tip of your cock against my tongue, allowing me to clean you off. “What do you say?” You asked as you tucked yourself back into your pants.

“Thank you for cumming, Daddy.” I blushed, sitting up from my position slowly.

“Good girl. Now, get yourself cleaned up. I'm not feeling mean enough to make you go out there as you are.” You laughed, brushing your hand over mine.

“Aw, but it goes so well with my outfit!” I faked a pout, going into our adjoined bathroom and fetching a washcloth. I wiped your cum from my face, then used a wet towel to clean up the excess amount. When I returned to the bedroom, you looked just as presentable as you had when we came into the room; you really did look like you had just been wrapping presents! I, on the other hand, appeared pretty disheveled, but it was a look I wore with pride. I took an armful of gifts as you opened the door, but you leaned down and kissed me before I could exit the room.

Your lips then brushed against my ear, your hand groping my ass. “Just wait until they go home. Then I can really give you your present.”

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