“Krystenah, come down here, please.”

I bounced down the stairs when Daddy called. I had just thrown on a tank top and skirt and was toweling my hair off from the shower.

“Yes, Daddy?” I looked into Daddy’s still face. My heart began to slowly fall inside my chest.

“I asked you to clean the floor, did I not?

“Yes, Daddy, I--”

He held up his hand. “But I’m looking at my floor and it’s still dirty. Was I not clear, Babygirl?”

“You were clear, Daddy. I swiffered it and—“

Daddy held up his hand again. “What did I ask you to do?”

“Clean the floor, Daddy.”

“And what did you do?”

“I swiffered the floor, Daddy.”

“Bring me the Swiffer, Baby,” he said and I went to the closet and got the mop. I felt a lump growing in my throat even as my pussy tingled. I walked to Daddy and handed him the mop. He took off the head of the mop and set the handle aside. “Get me a chair from the dining room.”

I rushed to get him a chair even though I knew that the faster I brought it, the faster I would get spanked. I wanted to show Daddy I could obey him, though. I set it on the floor and he sat down and motioned me over.

There is something so comforting in going over Daddy’s knee. I could never hope to explain it to my vanilla friends, but as much as I sometimes regret the pain and always regret disappointing Daddy, I feel a rush of relief resting on Daddy’s lap before he spanks me. His strong legs support me and when he draws me close to him I know that for the next little while I am going to be exactly where I am supposed to be.

Daddy rested the rectangular mop head against my ass and then began paddling me with it. It didn’t hurt at first, but soon I grasped Daddy’s calf as he spanked me over and over again on the sit spot. As the stings grew, I knew that Daddy was creating beautiful flowering bruises that would bloom in the hours ahead. I wriggled when Daddy paused because my cunt had started to pulse.

“Stand up, Babygirl,” Daddy whispered and as I stood on shaky legs, Daddy pulled my skirt and panties clean down to my ankles. I bent over his body and kissed his beautiful, strong, dark-skinned back. I nuzzled his neck, but he straightened up and pulled me over.

The initial slaps with his hands made me wriggle in an attempt to get away from the intensity. At times Daddy’s hands hurt worse than any implement. He grasped me around my waist and pulled me closer as he smacked my ass hard. My moans morphed into cries.

I understood he meant business and I took my punishment even though it stung like crazy. My body started to feel hot as sweat broke out behind my knees and neck. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” I cried as the last few blows fell. Daddy pulled me up and into his lap. I rested my face on his neck and whispered a thank you into his ear. I felt a renewed sense of peace when he told me I was a good girl for taking my spanking so well.

“Let’s see how you do with the next part of our punishment, Baby Doll.”

Next part? I thought. Daddy pointed to the floor, the signal I should kneel. I did, gingerly, as Daddy left the room. When he returned, he had in his hand a toothbrush in its packaging. I watched in horror as he filled a bowl of water and set it on the floor with the bottle of dish soap and a rag.

When he had unwrapped the toothbrush, he handed it to me. “I asked you to clean my floor, Babygirl, but you thought you could take a short cut. No more short cuts for you, slave. You are to clean, thoroughly clean, this floor to my satisfaction, and to make sure you do it right this time, I will supervise you. Is that very clear?”

My throat was very dry. “Very clear, sir.” I looked over the floor and felt like crying. Instead I crawled over to the bowl and wet the toothbrush. I glanced over my shoulder at Daddy, who winked at me. I smiled. Maybe this wouldn’t be too horrible, I told myself. I had always had a fantasy of being watched, scrutinized. This just wasn’t what I had ever had in mind.

I concentrated on one square at a time. When I did that, the job was somewhat manageable and it became even better when I looked back at Daddy one time and saw that he was stroking his thick, dark, gorgeous cock. I locked eyes with Daddy and felt my mouth start to water. Early on Daddy had given me the job of eating his precum and keeping his rigid cock clean. I felt an overwhelming compulsion to have cock inside me. I wanted to do my job. I began crawling toward Daddy’s cock, but he just furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Get back to your job, Slave. Your MasterDaddy hasn’t given you a break. And try a stunt like that and Daddy’s gonna pull out the Sharpie and write “Bad Girl" on your pretty back.”

I snapped back to reality, the reality of cleaning my MasterDaddy’s kitchen floor with a toothbrush and ignored the drumbeat in my pussy and my mouth that yearned to be filled with Daddy’s precious treasure. I’m not sure how much time passed before Daddy did call break and allowed me to take Daddy’s hard cock inside my mouth.

My knees and back were starting to protest, but I didn’t dare complain. I was very happy when Daddy told me to lie face up on the dining room table and dangle my head over the side.

Daddy pushed his cock into my mouth and I relaxed my throat as well as I could so I could accept his cock deep. He pulled his cock out very slowly and I squeezed hard with my lips so as not to let it escape. Daddy pushed in and pulled out at various depths and let me suck the precum out of his slit. As he pumped his dick into my mouth with a rhythm I focused on becoming the perfect receptacle for Daddy’s pleasure.

I gently squeezed his dick with my tongue and mouth as I opened up my mouth and throat and breathed steadily through my nose. I could feel my pussy fill with juice as Daddy fucked my mouth. I writhed on the table as Daddy ran his dick over and over my tongue. I never wanted him to stop fucking my mouth, but he slowed his rhythm and I knew sadly that he was going to send me back to work.

Daddy hugged me when I got down from the table and told me to kneel while he got me my “reward”. Rewards from Daddy come in all shapes and sizes, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. When Daddy returned with the butt plug, I still wasn’t sure. I enjoy having the plug inside me, but working on my hands and knees might be more uncomfortable than pleasurable. The Slave part of my brain told me none of that mattered.

Daddy watched me as I lubed up the plug and my asshole. He watched as I inserted two fingers and felt myself relax. He watched as I pushed the plug centimeter by centimeter inside until I got to the point where I had to push to take the last bit inside me. He told me to bend over so he could see it and I could hear him smile with satisfaction when I did. “Good girl!” he praised me and I felt a glow inside my chest. I happily crawled on sore knees back to where I had left the bowl and toothbrush.

As I worked with the plug in my ass, Daddy resumed stroking his cock. “You look so hot, Baby,” he sang to me and I squeezed the plug inside my ass in pleasure at his words. I still had a lot of floor to go and I was a little afraid of the plug drying out before I finished, but I set that worry aside.

“Your Master’s pleasure is the thing that matters, slave,” I heard a voice inside me say. I was doing my work for Daddy. I was on display for Daddy and Daddy was watching me do it, which he knew I always secretly craved. In that moment everything felt perfect. But then the doorbell rang.

Daddy pulled on his gym shorts and went to the front door. From the sound of it, it was his friend, Robbie. I breathed a small sigh of relief because Robbie knew I belonged to Daddy, so there would be far less awkwardness than there would be with any of my friends or Daddy’s family or my family or any of the myriad other people who could have rung Daddy’s bell. Still, I felt a little embarrassed being on display for someone other than Daddy.

I didn’t have any more time to think about it as I head Daddy and Robbie’s footsteps down the corridor and Daddy tell Robbie, “She’s finishing up some work for me in the kitchen.”

When Robbie entered the kitchen, I swiveled around so that I was facing him. He looked down at me with a playful smirk on his face. “Hi, Krystenah. Don’t get up,” he said and slapped Daddy in the chest, laughing at his own joke.

Robbie was a handsome light-skinned African American guy in his mid-thirties. Daddy had told me that someday he might watch Robbie fuck me and I never knew if that was a test to see how devoted I was to Daddy’s pleasure or if it was something that was actually likely to happen soon. For that reason I always felt vulnerable when Robbie was around because I never knew if I would be called upon to demonstrate my obedience. I found Robbie handsome, but I was so attached to Daddy’s cock that I couldn’t imagine another one inside me.

I noticed that Daddy’s mouth was moving, but I didn’t hear what he had said. His brow was furrowed again. “Babygirl?”

“Yes, Daddy?” I said.

“Would you please get Robbie a beer from the fridge and bring it to him?” I straightened up, and happy to have something to do, but not thinking, I automatically stood up, retrieved a beer from the fridge door and walked it over to Robbie. I felt the plug inside me and little ripples of arousal went from my asshole tot my already swollen clit.

“Baby Slave, front room,” Daddy said and I realized I had somehow gotten in trouble again.

My walk was hindered by the plug, but I squeezed it tight as Daddy led me by the wrist to the front room. He hugged me and whispered in my ear in his deepest, sexiest, richest voice, “You didn’t ask for permission to stand or to walk and for that you are going to pay. I want you to crawl back into that kitchen and into cornertime until Robbie leaves and then I am going to take you into the yard and you are finally going to get the switching I promised you.”

My heart stalled at the word “switching”. I had never been switched in my life and when I revealed that to Daddy he had told me that he would switch me someday. I wanted to protest, but I didn’t want to lose any more ground with my Daddy, so I nodded and gratefully said to him, “Yes, sir.”